Your father ruled this house for over two centuries. He inherited a failing merchant guild and left it the machine of war you see today.
But now he is dead and you both inherit his legacy.
We face annihilation. The Jihad of Muad’Dib spreads from the world of Arrakis like a plague, swallowing whole systems on its path to the galactic core. Planets that do not bow to this prophet-emperor and his cult religion are destroyed and remade. The Jihad marches ever closer to Junction even as I speak.
We are trapped. Confined to this dead world by the cursed Spacing Guild. Junction’s atmosphere guards against invasion, but to what end? Without trade we will run out of food, water, and even our precious spice. Rebellion and interplanetary war are inevitable.
Yet I do not fear. Far from it. For I know of the Khan blood, of the men you have been trained, and bred, to be. I now pray for those that stand against us.