Navigators of Dune

Those without a true sense of history fail to see how volatile and transient human leadership is, even on the scale of empires. When viewed from the perspective of a mere lifetime, we tend to see our governmental structures as permanent and unchangeable. This is entirely false.

—FAYKAN CORRINO I, first Emperor after the Butlerian Jihad

Inside her tank on the Navigator deck of the VenHold flagship, Norma waved a webbed hand. “We are ready to depart. My Navigators will guide us to Salusa Secundus.” She drifted. “I am anxious to restore stability to the Imperium.”

Josef paced on the bridge beside her. He stared out at his orbiting spacefolders—more than three hundred of them. “I have no doubt our fleet will arrive flawlessly, thanks to you, Grandmother, and we will quickly overwhelm the Imperial defenses. Soon this will all be over. Does your prescience foresee an easy victory? We certainly have the military advantage.”

Norma floated away from the plaz wall of her tank. “My prescience sees many possibilities around Salusa Secundus. I cannot say which one will become real.”

Without giving further details, she used her own control to activate the Holtzman engines, and Josef could feel the hull pulsing as the energy built up. The Navigators aboard the other ships coordinated their moves, and Josef quickly held on, bracing himself. All three hundred vessels vanished simultaneously into foldspace.

Disoriented during the passage, he clenched his fist, sucked in his breath. He wished Cioba could be at his side, but needed her to guard Kolhar as well as manage the commercial activities of Venport Holdings in his absence. Business went on. Despite the bank seizure, hundreds of his trading ships continued to travel throughout the Imperium illicitly delivering vital supplies—especially melange.

With their financial assets frozen, VenHold was crippled in conducting regular operations, but he would resolve the situation quickly and aggressively. Once the Emperor saw the enormous force arrayed against Salusa, he would have only one rational solution available to him, and Josef counted on him being a rational man: that was the gamble he had made all along, although Roderick had certainly disappointed him so far.

Guided by Norma and her Navigators, Josef’s well-armed ships reappeared in a tight cluster high above the capital planet. Knowing the amount of space traffic around Salusa, Norma had intentionally brought them to the upper fringe of the primary orbital lanes, where the VenHold ships need not worry about colliding with the bustle of governmental and commercial vessels. Nevertheless, it was a show of force that could not be denied.

At their stations, the VenHold crewmembers on the Navigator deck breathed a sigh of relief. “We are in a safe position for battle, Directeur. All VenHold vessels present and accounted for. Weapons ready.”

“They’ve seen us, sir!”

On the wide screen Josef saw the orbiting Salusan ships suddenly move erratically, like fish stirred in a bowl. He smiled. “Of course they have. That is our intent.” He would let them see and absorb the sheer military might he had brought with him—the biggest stick in the Imperium.

“Will you be addressing the people, Directeur?” asked the comm officer.

Josef placed his hands behind his back and walked slowly away from Norma’s tank. “Not yet. I want to give them time to think about the power we have brought to bear on them. Let them feel the crisis in their bones before I deliver my ultimatum to Roderick Corrino.”

From the bridge of one of the adjacent spacefolders, Draigo Roget reported. “The Emperor’s defensive fleet appears to be even smaller than anticipated, Directeur—no more than a hundred warships—and none of them a match for ours. What happened to all the rest? Our earlier intelligence suggested another full strike force here, but those ships are not in sight.”

Josef was concerned. “Are they otherwise deployed?”

“I cannot make that projection, sir,” the Mentat said.

Josef looked at the flurry of orbital activity, the trading and diplomatic vessels trying to escape while the greatly outnumbered Imperial military ships scrambled to form a defensive line. “Send no transmissions just yet. The Emperor will demand to know why I have come, and then he’ll ask for my terms.” He had decided that Roderick should bare his throat in some way, to prove that he understood where the true power lay. “And then he will surrender, but it’ll just be a formality. Afterward, we can put all this behind us.”