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Дюна

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allow this.
No choice.
The Spacing Guild's buying up
all the spice there is.
Nothing left for us.
This is a rich patch. I'll call the harvester.
Get some men up on those rocks first.
The Harkonnen patrols
won't be this far out.
It's not the Harkonnen I'm worried about.
I'll be damned. A false patch.
Get the men back on board!
Put the knife away, Gurney Halleck.
Who is it that knows the name
of Gurney Halleck?
Paul, is it truly Paul?
You young pup! Young pup!
Gurney-man.
So you're the reason
the Fremen have gotten so clever.
I'd never have expected you
to fall for such a simple trick, Gurney.
Desperate times, Milord.
Harkonnen patrols have forced us south,
deeper and deeper.
Where you might've seen things
you shouldn't.
This is Gurney Halleck, Stil.
My father's weapons master.
One of my teachers.
There aren't many of us who haven't heard
the name Gurney Halleck.
This is Stilgar, Gurney,
the naib of our sietch.
Muad'dib...
...feel the wind.
"Muad'dib"?
-You're the one they call Muad'dib?
-It's my Fremen name.
Come, we'll talk of all these things
while we wait out the storm.
Storm? We didn't see any signs.
It comes soon. Trust me.
What happens to my men?
We'll decide what to do with them
after the storm.
We'll have to hurry
if we're going to save the thopter.
This is one of the things
you should not have seen.
You have many such hiding places?
Many times many.
We call this one Cave of Ridges.
Would you like me to bring coffee?
Yes.
And more food.
Your woman?
The mother of my first-born.
So much has happened.
The boy I knew has now become a man.
Thanks to our enemies.
Cowards.
They hide in their cities in garrisons,
hoping you will wear yourself out...
...with useless raids.
In other words, they're immobilised.
While you know where,
and when you choose.
A tactic I learned from you, Gurney-man.
What about your men?
Smugglers, all. Good men.
Some newcomers.
Off-worlders.
It's hard to find recruits these days.
Any of my father's men?
Those that weren't butchered
by the Harkonnen...
...bribed whoever they could
to leave Arrakis.
Everyone thought....
We all believed you were dead, Milord.
But you stayed.
Awaiting an opportunity for vengeance.
I knew we'd be reunited, Gurney.
I saw it.
You're the only one left to me, Milord.
Hawat, ldaho, your father:
All dead, all betrayed.
I would've gladly have sacrificed myself
if I could've taken the traitor with me.
My father once spoke
about desert power, Gurney.
I remember well.
Well, you've just met it.
The surface of this planet is ours.
No storm, no worm,
not even the Emperor's Sardaukar...
...could stop us now.
Enlist with me, Gurney.
Feed on revenge with us.
Enlist?
I never left your service.
That stupid swine
seems almost begging for me to intervene.
The Baron is a pig, Father,
but he is not stupid.
Rabban has lost almost 50,000 troops
in the past two years.
-Arrakis is a fierce planet.
-Attrition cannot explain such losses.
He's losing five-to-one.
Read between the lines.
You are saying the Baron is allowing
this rebellion to continue?
I'm saying the Baron can count
as well as we.
For the sake of argument,
what if there were only 20,000 people...
...in a Fremen sietch?
And what if there were only 250
such communities on the whole of Arrakis?
Our spies are suggesting
there may be twice that many.
Yes.
Ten million.
Toughened by conditions
worse than your own prison planet, Father.
Yes, but brutalised by that mindless thug,
Rabban.
They would never ally with him.
Perhaps this brutality is simply part
of something more cunning.
A clever prelude
to ripen them up for someone else.
Someone to come and rescue them
from Rabban.
Someone like the other nephew,
the cute one, Feyd.
If such a plan succeeded...
...the Baron would have a force
to rival even your dreaded Sardaukar.
Summon Harkonnen to Kaitain.
We shall see what devices
this perverse mind is breeding.
Дюна Дюна

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