Navigators of Dune

“I anticipate a swift and glorious victory, Sire.” Roon acted indignant on the Emperor’s behalf. The noble-born General was in his late forties, Roderick’s age, though he was shorter and more muscular. Roon had dark skin, jet-black hair, and an intense manner. The two men had a tumultuous personal history, which Roderick did his best to ignore right now.

“Yes, swift and glorious would be my preference, Vinson.” He used the General’s first name intentionally. He and Roon had been boyhood friends until an unfortunate falling out—over a woman, of course. Since then, they had spoken only during formal military meetings with other officers and high-level advisers, but it was time to put all that nonsense behind them. The Imperium was at stake.

Roderick knew he could count on this man, whose loyalty and dedication to the Imperium had never been in doubt. Without turning from the viewing window, the Emperor said, “Venport Holdings must be struck down before they have time to entrench themselves further. We need to move soon.”

Roon nodded.

This strike force had been assembled hastily in secret, and would launch within the next few days. The Emperor was gambling a significant portion of his military defenses that were normally stationed around Salusa Secundus, but a successful crackdown on VenHold would greatly increase security all across the Imperium, making it worth the risk. Roderick intended it to be a swift decapitation mission to kill or capture Directeur Venport, seize his operations on Kolhar, and cripple his widespread business operations.

Then Roderick would be in firm control of the Imperium.

Two months ago, just when his guilt was revealed, Venport had escaped with the aid of Norma Cenva. Since then, the Directeur had abruptly withdrawn all VenHold commercial ships, cut off trade, and left many planets in dire need of provisions. The repercussions were only beginning to be felt, and they would grow much worse. Private fleets scrambled to pick up the slack, but no other interstellar transport company was as reliable as the VenHold Spacing Fleet—because no one else had Navigators.

Venport also held part of the Imperial military hostage, thanks to a disastrous circumstance. One entire battle group of the Imperial Armed Forces—seventy warships—had been traveling routinely aboard a VenHold carrier when the whole crisis began. The Imperial ships were powerful, but did not have Holtzman engines, so they needed to be delivered to their destination via spacefolders. For years, VenHold carriers had transported the Emperor’s battleships as part of their service to the Imperium, but now a key portion of those powerful vessels were being held by the enemy, locked away and taken off the board like pieces in a galactic chess game.

Roderick muttered, “He means to hamstring us, and force us to bow to his demands.”

“Do we even know what his demands are, Sire?” asked the General, still watching the ships move aboard the gigantic carrier. “He has been silent since he withdrew to Kolhar. I thought he was on the run and hiding from justice.”

“His demands are obvious to me. Venport wants to do whatever he likes. After killing an Emperor with impunity, he wants me to be a figurehead ruler while the tentacles of his commercial empire extend everywhere. He also wants me to eradicate the Butlerian fanatics.” His thoughts whirled. Something that Salvador could never do.

Roon gave a distasteful snort and lowered his voice. “After all the destruction Manford Torondo has caused, would that be such a terrible thing, Sire?”

As he thought of all the damage the antitechnology mobs had caused, even killing his beautiful little daughter, Roderick let out a low sigh. “Not as such, no … but if it means we must cooperate with the man who assassinated Salvador, then I cannot agree. I will never agree to that, Vinson.” He shook his head. “I would not be surprised if Venport had something to do with Anna’s disappearance, too.”

Roon blinked in disbelief. “But your sister vanished from Lampadas, Sire—during the Butlerian siege of the Mentat School. I would suspect Manford Torondo, but how could you think Venport is responsible for that?”

“You’re right.” He shook his head. “I seem to find ways to blame that man for everything … when he is really only responsible for half of my problems.”

The General scowled, obviously disgusted. “When I think of all the Directeur’s dealings—a monopoly on safe foldspace travel, his secret Navigators, the spice industry on Arrakis, his banking operations across the Imperium … no one man should control so much power, and—”

Roderick cut him off. “Not true, Vinson—I should hold that much power, and no one else.”

Roon straightened. “Our fleet will take care of him, Sire. You can count on me.”