House Ordos
Information is dangerous. It must be controlled. That is the lesson.
-The Executrix
The Mentat Ammon stepped out of his comfortable frigate onto the icy surface of the starport of his new home world: Sigma Draconis IV home to the secretive House Ordos a greedy and heartless Great House. The air was biting cold on his face and every breath he took blew out thick clouds of steam that was blown away by the winds. Looking around he could not imagine being in any place more depressing. Everywhere there was nothing but snow, and ice on a vast plateau. The planet was almost as inhospitable as Arrakis and was sparsely populated. It was midday but the sun was completely curtained by grey clouds. Even the capital where he was now was nothing more than a few wooden houses built using the wood from trees on or near the equator where the weather was more pleasant and where the majority of the population lived. Surrounding this star port that was all but empty save for his frigate that had been given permission to land by his mysterious new masters were green and gold flags of House Ordos fluttering in the wind. The starport itself had no terminal and the landing field had the crossed bones with Ivy drawn on it, the insignia of the Ordos.
Ammon had been told that there would be a keep larger than the starport here but he could not see it anywhere. Using his Mentat skills he processed through all possibilities why he could not see it, eliminated them one by one until only one remained: The keep must be an underground lair.
Ammon had recently completed Mentat training and had accepted this assignment for the remarkably high salary. He made many projections of what his new role might be, but he, like everybody else knew next to nothing about House Ordos so he could not be sure what to expect.
The streets were empty for good reason; a blizzard was headed this way. He had been warned of this in the heighliner. And yet… there were no people to come welcome his arrival and escort him to his new masters. Ammon did not know why but did not want to freeze just waiting for people to show up. So he walked to the village and walked through the empty streets looking for some sort of hint as to where he could find the entrance to the Ordos underground lair. With his Mentat abilities Ammon was not often afraid. But calculating the odds of him freezing to death here he shivered from both the cold and his fear. The odds were against him. Wandering through a deserted marketplace, he noticed a wooden cottage with red text painted onto it: AMMON ENTER.
Ammon entered what appeared to be an eating establishment. Five men wearing several layers of clothing sat near an old fashioned fireplace keeping warm. Ammon was tempted to sit for a few minutes by the crackling small fire, but knew he had to get to his masters soon or he would most likely be executed for his tardiness.
"Which one of you here works for House Ordos?" Ammon asked. The men turned to face him. Their faces were almost as white as the snow outside and they did not look like they were in any mood for conversation. They all had grown beards probably for the extra warmth. They had not been talking nor doing any activity when Ammon had entered. One of them looked up and spoke to him.
"I do. You must be the new Mentat. You have passed your first test in locating me. You do what you must without having to be commanded. The council does not waste time with welcoming newcomers. Time is money as an the Old Terra saying goes" The other four men turned back to the fire. The man who spoke to him told him to sit and wait until the blizzard passed. He was offered no beverage of any sort to warm himself. Ammon began to understand the reason for this unwelcome atmosphere: to discourage visitors to this remote world. What was it they were trying to hide here? Seeing no board or card games anywhere in the room he decided to do Mentat mind exercises.