It had been several month since the Sietch Impiam was created, and the first, most deadly, disaster was already upon them. The supply of Melange was dangerously low, and there had not been enough time for the Axlotl tanks to produce more, much less for the Sandtrout to develop into full grown worms. Already several members of the community were in the first stages of withdrawal, their bodies wracked by pain without the presence of the life sustaining drug. Precious Bene Gesserit training was fading just as rapidly as their supply of Spice, the Sisters in the group already heavily affected by the loss of their stores. During the landing on this strange planet, the majority of Spice stores had been destroyed, an accident which had cost the Sietch the lives of five men. Those men had been trusted advisors of the new Mother Superior, as well as the Bashar, Sani Najib, and their loss had murdered the moral of the new colony.

Despite this loss, Sani Najib kept hopes up. In their current rationing, they could survive long enough for the Axlotl tanks to come to fruit. Only another month of agonizingly small portions of Melange, and the Sietch would have all that they needed to survive. He knew this, as did the Mother Superior, but the Acolytes did not believe, and a small panic had ensued.

Panic had taken the form of a riot, the mostly un-addicted Acolytes gathering together against their superiors. They had taken the last of the lasguns, although the weapons would do them no good. Sani and his men wore shieldbelts, and the deadly reaction of las blast, and shield would create an explosion of nuclear proportions. So, the battle at the gates of the Sietch had been one of blades, of knives and shields where both Bene Gesserit Reverand Mothers, and Sani’s soldiers engaged the group of Acolytes. While the Acolytes held greater numbers, the riot showed the superiority of Prana-Bindu trained warriors.

During the battle, Sani himself had fought. A Crys Knife in hand, he had waded through the ranks of Acolytes, each stroke of his blade being well placed, just slow enough to pierce the shields of his enemy, and fast enough to rend flesh. Within moments of beginning, the riot was over, crimson staining the sandy streets, as well as the blades and uniforms of soldiers and Reverend Mothers alike. Half the Acolyte population had been lost then, which ironically became the Sietch’s saving grace.

With less numbers, less Spice would be needed. Sani, the Reverend Mothers, and his soldiers would all have their Melange, they would survive until the Axlotl tanks could produce more of the vital Spice. And that was only a month away, one more month, before the Missionaria Protectiva could be sent out into the populace of this World, beginning the age old game the Bene Gesserit sisterhood played. Whether this game brought another God Emperor, or another coming of the Honored Matres, or even the utter destruction of the remnants of the Sisterhood, all was to be seen.