The Battle of Corrin

War is a combination of art, psychology, and science. The successful commander knows how to apply each of these components, and when.
— SUPREME BASHAR VORIAN ATREIDES
I am a hawk. That is my symbol.

The bloated giant sun peeked around the edge of Corrin, painting bloodstains on the hulls of the nearest ships with its somber light. Just inside the scrambler-satellite net, Omnius had clustered defensive ships and rigged cargo containers filled with innocent human shields. The first waves of the shielded Vengeance Fleet would crash through that obstacle, and damn the consequences.

Past the gauntlet the machines had erected, clouds covered much of the surface of the world. Vor saw a flash of lightning and then another, but the worst storms were about to occur in space.

Ahead of him, the network of scrambler satellites formed a line of death for over two million hostages. Including Serena Butler. I can make no other decision. If that is truly Serena, alive after all these years, then she would understand— in fact, she would demand it.

And if it wasn’t Serena Butler, then what did it matter? He had already made up his mind.

As the fleet moved forward, picking up speed, closing the noose, the soldiers were uneasy. Some prayed that the thinking machines would back down at the last minute. But Vor knew that wouldn’t happen. Uncounted billions of enslaved humans had already been annihilated during the nuclear purge of the Synchronized Worlds. The actions of this day would be regrettable, but no worse than what had gone before. And there would finally be an end to the thinking machines.

Even after learning of the human shields in the “Bridge,” his resolve had not wavered. The very fact that the machines would do something so desperate told him that they had everything to lose here. The price of victory is high… but acceptable.

Abulurd’s vocal objection, though, had been a weighty disappointment to him. Abulurd, of all people, knew how important this offensive was— for Vor and for all of humanity. He should have been helping the Supreme Bashar, not interfering with the orders of his superior officer— his friend.

Vor felt ice in the pit of his stomach. Xavier would never have hesitated in this situation. He would have made the necessary choice.

From her safe position aboard the diplomatic vessel, Rayna transmitted her prayers, clearly torn between her hatred for thinking machines and wanting to save the miraculously returned Serena Butler and her martyred child. Vor wondered if the Cult leader even saw the paradox here. If Rayna truly believed that the spirit of Saint Serena had appeared to her in a fever vision, then how could she believe the real Serena was still alive? It made no sense.

The Vengeance Fleet moved into range of the scrambler satellites. “Prepare to engage the enemy. Weapons officers, man your stations. Power up all systems and be ready to fire at my command. We will strike like a flaming sword from the sky.”

He swallowed with a dry throat. If he was wrong in his guess that Omnius did not know of the laser-shield interaction, in a few seconds the first line of League warships would be instantly vaporized in a pseudo-atomic explosion.

“As we approach, select your key targets,” he said.

“Sir, what if there are human hostages aboard the robotic warships?”

Vor whirled, saw the gunnery officer jump at his reaction. “And what if there aren’t? Don’t worry about them. Do your job, Bator.” His voice sounded hollow. Once the Bridge of Hrethgir detonated, there would be nothing to hold back the retaliatory rage of the Army of Humanity. In a way, he wanted to be done with it, so the fleet could concentrate on the urgent task before them.

Ready to open fire and do what he had to, he inched his fingers closer to the touchpad that would commence the firing sequence. He wanted to hurt the machines exactly as they had hurt humans for so many generations.

Finally, the flagship’s scanning officer reported: “In range, Supreme Bashar!”

“Commence bombardment. Let’s soften them up!”

Wanting to fire the first shot himself, Vor touched the firing pad, but nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. “Damn!”

Around the command deck, other gunnery officers let out confused mutters and shouts of alarm. Chatter burst over the comlines.

“Sir, weapons are inactive across the entire fleet! We can’t fire a single shot.”

His officers scurried for answers, filling the comlines that connected the flagship with the rest of the fleet and asking questions. When the explanation came, it was like acid thrown in Vor’s face.

“This is Abulurd Harkonnen,” a voice boomed over the speakers. “In order to prevent the unnecessary murder of millions of innocent people, I have disabled the firing controls on every weapons battery in the fleet. Supreme Bashar Atreides, we must find a better solution than this. You have no choice now but to back off.”

“Bring him to me!” Vor said. Security troops rushed from the command deck. He turned in his chair. “And get those weapons back online!”

“We can’t do a thing unless we have the coded control sequence— and Bashar Harkonnen has changed it.”

“Now we see why he took the name Harkonnen,” one of the gunnery officers snarled. “He’s afraid to fight the machines.”

“Enough.” Vor stopped himself from saying anything more. He reeled, unable to understand how his protégé could have done this, why Abulurd would have risked all their lives by interfering at the most critical moment. “Bypass what systems you can, rig manual launch sequences and targeting operations if you have to. Otherwise, we may have to open the cargo hold doors and throw rocks at the enemy.”

“It’ll take a few minutes, Supreme Bashar.”

“Sir, do we keep going forward?” the navigator said. “We’re almost to the Bridge.”

Thoughts spun through Vor’s mind, almost overwhelming him with the clamor of betrayal he felt at what Abulurd had apparently done. “If we slow now, the machines will know something’s wrong.”

“We dare not hesitate!” one of the Cultist crewmen cried. “The demon machines will think we’ve wavered in our holy purpose.”

Vor was sure Omnius wouldn’t think like that. “More likely they’ll suspect technical difficulties, a weakness.” He made his voice hard, inflexible. “Proceed. We’ll just need to do this the hard way.” He would have only a few minutes to make Abulurd put the systems back online. Maybe he could do it in time.

Abulurd Harkonnen was easy to find, and he did not resist. He actually looked proud of himself when the guards dragged him back to the command bridge. He carried no weapons and wore a hard expression on his face that cut Vor like a stiletto. There was no insignia on Abulurd’s coat.

Eyes blazing with cold fury, Vor strode forward. “What have you done? By God and Serena, tell me what you have done!”

The other man looked at him as if hoping for understanding. “I have saved you from making a terrible mistake. I have saved millions of lives.”

Vor grabbed Abulurd by the uniform coat. “You’re a fool! Unless we finish this now, today, you might have doomed us all and opened the door for another thousand years of machine slavery.”

The gunnery officer sneered. “A coward, just like his grandfather.”

“No, not like Xavier.” Vor looked at Abulurd, his frustration burning away all good memories of the times they had spent together. “This man is in his own universe of cowardice, Bator. Don’t compare him with anyone else.”

Abulurd remained motionless in Vor’s grip but continued to plead. “It doesn’t have to be this way. If you’ll only— “

Vor’s voice was icy. “Bashar Harkonnen, I command you to give me the new codes. We don’t have much time.”

“Sorry, I can’t do that. It’s the only way you’ll look at the problem in a different light. You’ll have to pull back.”

“You are endangering the lives of the entire Vengeance Fleet!”

The younger man did not even seem intimidated. “You’re the one endangering lives, Vorian, not me.”

“Do not dare to speak my name again. You presume upon a friendship that no longer exists.” Disgusted, Vor shoved him away, and Abulurd stumbled to keep his footing. Vor knew he could not follow through on any threat of torture. Not with Abulurd. “You have betrayed the future of humanity!”

Alarmed, the navigator called out in a strained voice. “Coming up on the satellite boundary, Supreme Bashar. Should I reduce speed?”

“No! We proceed with the offensive, no matter— “

Abulurd gasped. “You can’t! You have to stop now, regroup! Try to negotiate with Omnius. Your ships have no weapons— “

“The machines don’t know that. And unlike Erasmus, I can bluff.” A deadly calm came over Vor. Stripped of their long-range weapons, the Vengeance Fleet closed toward the machine forces. In Vor’s mind, he had committed too much to risk failure. “Besides, as long as I have my imagination, I am never without weapons.”

Turning away from the ghostly pale Abulurd, Vor said, “Get him out of my sight and put him under constant guard.” Three angry-looking guards closed in around him, as if looking for an excuse to beat the traitor. “I’ll worry about what to do with him later— if we survive this day.”






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