Chapter 301: The Sisterhood's Plan — Assassination! A Trade of Interests!
Hawat could clearly see that Duke Leto held deep resentment toward the Spacing Guild—those fickle, double-dealing fence-sitters. He then turned to Song Zhaomei and asked in a low voice:
"Director Song, we're still detaining the Spacing Guild's heighliner. Should we arrest everyone aboard?"
Hawat himself despised the Guild's opportunistic behavior, but whether or not they could move against them depended entirely on the stance of the Galactic Megacorp.
As long as Song Zhaomei gave the order, he'd gladly toss those mutated Navigators into Arrakis' dungeons and help them kick their spice addiction cold turkey.
"No need. Let them go for now."
Song Zhaomei shook her head, speaking calmly. "Tell those Spacing Guild people that I want their full cooperation with the Great Houses in the coming offensive against House Corrino. Their ships and Navigators are to be prioritized for use by the Houses."
The Guild was like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bowstring—paranoid and fearful of being purged by House Atreides. At this point, whatever demand was made of them would likely be granted without resistance.
Especially considering that spice production on Arrakis was now under Atreides control—those spice-addicted Navigators could only survive by relying on House Atreides.
Hawat nodded thoughtfully. "Understood, Director Song."
Her reasoning was sound. While House Atreides, with support from the Megacorp, had gained access to more efficient and advanced interstellar navigation, the technology had yet to become widespread across the Imperium. The other Houses still needed the Spacing Guild's services for large-scale troop deployments.
The Guild still had strategic value. This was no time for settling scores.
Moreover, the Corrino Empire had ruled the galaxy for tens of thousands of years. Their political roots ran deep, their influence ubiquitous.
To overthrow the imperial regime in one fell swoop, they needed to maximize allies and minimize enemies.
Only through a united push from all factions could the Corrino dynasty be toppled in a single, decisive blow.
…
Aboard a heighliner fleeing at full speed, a bloated figure slumped in a golden lion's throne, gasping in heavy, ragged breaths—his fear and panic on full display.
"Damn it! How could that old bastard Leto defeat my Sardaukar legion?!"
Emperor Shaddam, having just escaped the shadow of death, erupted in a fit of furious roaring.
As the most powerful man in the Empire, Shaddam had never suffered such a crushing defeat—never been forced to stare directly into such a catastrophic reality.
The Sardaukar, the empire's elite ironclad troops, were all but annihilated. The Great Houses, sensing weakness, had begun marching toward the capital under the pretense of "protecting the throne."
But everyone knew their true intent. Once those vassal kings reached the capital's gates, the Corrino dynasty's reign—built over millennia—would crumble.
Shaddam had never imagined that he might become the last ruler of House Corrino. Just hours ago, he was still the confident, all-powerful emperor.
The Atreides, once thought to be on the brink of annihilation, were nothing more than playthings to him—easy prey. But with the end of this war, everything had changed.
Baron Harkonnen was captured. The Sardaukar were completely wiped out. Rebels were rising across the galaxy.
Everything had fallen apart!
"That fleet couldn't possibly belong to House Atreides! That old fox Leto couldn't have built warships like that. Someone must be helping them from the shadows!"
Shaddam replayed the battle in his mind. He was certain—those massive warships didn't originate from House Atreides.
There had to be a puppet master pulling the strings.
Shaddam clenched his fists. As the heir to the throne, he'd received the best education available. While he lacked emotional restraint, his intellect was sharp—he immediately recognized that the origin of the fleet was suspicious.
But that's where his deduction ended. Without more intel, he couldn't even begin to grasp the existence of the Galactic Megacorp.
"Whose fleet was that?!"
He growled through gritted teeth, unable to accept a loss that felt so utterly senseless.
House Atreides hadn't won through cunning strategy—they'd won because they had an overwhelmingly powerful armada capable of inducing despair.
Any faction in possession of such a fleet could dominate the battlefield just as easily.
Which raised the real question: why had the mysterious benefactor chosen House Atreides? Why Leto, of all people, to become the biggest victor?
"Your Majesty, please try to remain calm."
At that moment, Reverend Mother Helen entered the opulent hall. She had heard the emperor's furious outbursts from afar and felt an increasing disappointment toward him.
Only those who remained composed in the face of collapse were worthy of the Golden Lion Throne. Shaddam's hysterics—shouting and breaking down over a setback—achieved nothing but further clouded judgment and hastened poor decisions.
His tantrum only added pressure on his generals and allies, offering no constructive aid to the situation.
Still, Helen could understand how Shaddam's temperament had formed. His entire life had been sheltered from disaster—until now.
The foundation left by his ancestors was vast and unshakable. Compared to other Houses, the Corrino Empire was like a fully geared champion fighting under-equipped opponents.
As long as they didn't make reckless, foolish moves, the Corrino line could easily crush the rest. All it took was an alliance with House Atreides or House Harkonnen to secure the throne.
Unfortunately, this time, Emperor Shaddam had not faced another well-equipped contender—but a player with literal cheats.
The moment they clashed, the empire's deep-rooted power shattered like brittle glass. There was no "game balance" at play here.
Seeing that it was Reverend Mother Helen, Shaddam didn't even bother to lift his head. Brow furrowed, he snapped irritably:
"I'm in no mood—get out of my sight."
He had long lost faith in the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood—an organization that offered aid when it was convenient, but vanished in times of true crisis.
Helen had promised him support. Yet the moment war broke out, she hid away on the heighliner, never showing her face.
Rumors claimed the Sisterhood had incited the Fremen on Arrakis as a hidden force, but the war had come and gone, and not a single sign of the Fremen had been seen.
Meanwhile, his Sardaukar were all gone.
Now, with the loss of the Sardaukar—his dynasty's proud legacy—Shaddam was like a castrated boar, reduced to grunting in impotent frustration, his former ambition gone.
Hearing such disgraceful words, Helen's gaze sharpened, a flicker of anger in her eyes as she halted in her tracks.
If not for the Sisterhood's diplomacy, the Spacing Guild would've already handed Shaddam over to House Atreides. He had no right to complain.
Still, no matter how furious she felt, Helen had to swallow her pride and continue soothing him.
"Your Majesty, there's no need to panic. We still have a chance to turn this around."
Fearless, Helen stepped forward until she stood below the lion throne. Looking up at the still-enraged emperor, her voice was gentle but steady:
"Please, calm yourself. Let us discuss our next course of action."
In Helen's view, while the Corrino family had lost the battle, the overall situation wasn't yet beyond salvation.
They still held the capital. They still controlled many colonies.
---
At this moment, Emperor Shaddam was fuming the instant he saw Reverend Mother Helen. In his mind, the recent defeat of the royal family and Harkonnen coalition was partly due to the Bene Gesserit's lack of contribution.
"Guards!"
As his voice rang out, a dozen warriors clad in golden armor emerged from the shadows of the inner hall. Their eyes were fierce, their expressions grim, as they glared menacingly at Helen.
Just as Emperor Shaddam motioned for his guards to seize her, Helen parted her lips and uttered a single command: "Stand down."
The warriors froze in place.
Her Voice took hold instantly, subduing the advancing guards and forcing them to retreat under her compulsion.
Those who were affected by the Voice turned, expressionless, and left without a word—leaving only Emperor Shaddam and Helen alone in the inner hall.
In that instant, the atmosphere grew heavy with tension. Shaddam began to feel a twinge of unease. Only now did he fully realize that Helen was not someone to be trifled with.
As the Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit, Helen's mastery of the Voice was at the level of a grandmaster. If she wished it, this woman could easily speak him to death.
"Helen, what is it you want?!"
Shaddam stared at her calm, inscrutable face, a flicker of fear rising in his chest. If she wanted him dead, now would be the perfect moment.
"Your Majesty, you understand nothing of the Bene Gesserit's true power. What we are capable of far exceeds your imagination."
Helen was well aware that House Atreides had made rapid progress with the backing of the universal megacorporation. Precisely because of this, the Bene Gesserit had to form a united front with House Corrino if there was to be any hope of turning the tide.
Her aim was to persuade Shaddam to cooperate fully and join forces in striking back against House Atreides.
Of course, the Bene Gesserit were far from a monolithic organization. Some within its upper ranks were already leaning toward abandoning the royal family and siding with House Atreides.
After all, the Corrino dynasty had lost its greatest weapon—the Sardaukar legions. With so many noble houses rising up in rebellion, from any rational perspective, the Empire was the weaker side.
But to Reverend Mother Helen, the universal megacorporation and House Atreides had to be destroyed—because they possessed devices that neutralized the Voice.
If the Bene Gesserit were to surrender to the megacorporation, their fate would be dismemberment and dissolution. The centuries-old breeding program would come to a definitive end.
Helen refused to be the one under whom the Bene Gesserit's legacy, spanning millennia, was destroyed. Even if she held no personal grudge against the megacorporation, from the standpoint of the Sisterhood, this was a matter of survival.
And now, Helen had to make Shaddam stand up again—to rekindle his resolve to resist House Atreides.
"Speak. What do you want, and what can you do for me?"
Emperor Shaddam took several deep breaths. He knew Helen wouldn't assassinate him—not now. It wouldn't benefit the Sisterhood at all.
It would only invite endless trouble.
In truth, during his moments of contemplation, Shaddam had seriously considered surrendering to House Atreides. He would relinquish his imperial title and continue on as a regional lord, allowing House Corrino to cling to life.
After all, the great Houses had once stood shoulder-to-shoulder during the days of the Jihad. No matter how bitter their disputes, surely they'd show each other a shred of mercy.
But on further reflection, even Shaddam had to admit he was deluding himself. If the tables were turned and he were the one in rebellion, would he spare the emperor?
Not a chance.
Power transitions were always bloody. There was no such thing as mercy.
This war—he had no choice but to see it through.
Seeing signs that Shaddam might be regaining his fighting spirit, Helen gave a slight nod. Once, in his youth, Shaddam had been a man of great talent.
But the long years of peace in the galaxy had dulled his will and eroded his character. Still, if he could rise again, there was a real chance he could match House Atreides in battle once more.
"Great Emperor of the Galaxy,"
Helen offered a modest bow before speaking with sincerity, "In the last battle, the Bene Gesserit truly were unable to assist. I simply couldn't bear to see our sisters suffer meaningless losses."
"But that doesn't mean the Bene Gesserit are weak or useless."
Helen began by explaining why the Sisterhood hadn't contributed militarily. It was a matter of specialization. Sending Bene Gesserit members into battle as cannon fodder would have done nothing to change the outcome.
What's more, every member of the Sisterhood had undergone rigorous, lifelong training. The cost of cultivating each one was enormous. The loss of even a single sister was a significant blow to the organization.
Once Shaddam calmed down, he realized she was right—Bene Gesserit weren't meant for open warfare.
Still, he asked coldly:
"So what exactly can your Sisterhood offer me—and what do you want in return?"
Shaddam knew full well the true strength of the Bene Gesserit. The organization had operated in the shadows of the Empire and its noble houses for centuries, weaving an intricate political web through bloodlines.
At times, when conflicts broke out between noble houses, it was the Bene Gesserit who were called upon to resolve the disputes.
Even House Corrino had to respect their influence. Each Sister possessed unique talents—the ability to detect lies, manipulate through the Voice, and more.
This was also why Shaddam had originally appointed Reverend Mother Helen as his Truthsayer—to curry favor with the Bene Gesserit and demonstrate an alliance between throne and Sisterhood.
Helen, as the leader of the Sisterhood, also had her reasons. A friendly relationship with the imperial throne meant greater freedom to expand their ranks and strengthen their influence.
For a long time, Helen and Shaddam had enjoyed a kind of political honeymoon. The Empire needed the Sisterhood to gather intelligence and maintain order.
And the Sisterhood needed imperial legitimacy so they could more easily place their women in the beds of Dukes and Barons across the realm.
Think about it: Bene Gesserit women were already exceptional—but add the imperial seal of approval, and they became the most sought-after women in the galaxy.
Under Helen's leadership, the Sisterhood reached a new pinnacle—realizing their goal of embedding operatives in every noble house across the Empire.
There wasn't a single ruling family without Bene Gesserit members—often in positions of great influence.
But with House Corrino's latest defeat, Shaddam began to question the Sisterhood's loyalty—and their usefulness.
Unless they could eliminate House Atreides, this political honeymoon was over.
"The Bene Gesserit possess unparalleled assassination skills. We've left many hidden agents on Arrakis. They stand ready to serve the Emperor at any time."
Helen smiled faintly and presented her proposal—assassination.
The Bene Gesserit had spent years embedding their agents on Arrakis. The number of covert operatives was staggering—including many within House Atreides itself.
Even Lady Jessica had no idea how many.
And these weren't ordinary spies—they were Voice-trained assassins. Given the right opportunity, they could eliminate key figures like Duke Leto and Thufir Hawat.
That would throw House Atreides into utter chaos. With a few strategic provocations, Helen could spark an internal civil war.
Finally, Helen's plan sparked Shaddam's interest. If the problem couldn't be solved—then eliminate the people causing it.
A simple, effective solution.
But in the next moment, Helen laid out her conditions:
"Once the war ends, I want custody of Jessica and Paul. And we must share access to House Atreides's fleet."
Jessica and Paul were the crown jewels of the Bene Gesserit breeding program—especially Paul. He was possibly the culmination of centuries of genetic engineering: the prophesied Kwisatz Haderach.
As for the Atreides fleet, there was no need to elaborate. Such powerful military assets had to be secured for the Sisterhood's own protection.
It was the same logic that had led them to cultivate the Fremen into their own version of the Sardaukar.
Upon hearing Helen's terms, Shaddam's entire face twisted with anger. Not a single one was acceptable!
The Atreides warships? He had no idea what the Sisterhood wanted with them. Planning a rebellion? Absolutely not.
As for Jessica and Paul, their blood ties to House Atreides made them too dangerous to leave alive. If they weren't eliminated, they would become endless threats to the throne.
Total extermination had always been a proud Corrino tradition. Shaddam wasn't about to make an exception.
---
(Show your support and read more chapters on my Patreon: p@treon.com/psychopet. Thank you for your support!)