All characters from the Dune Universe are property of the Frank Herbert Estate. All characters from the Buffyverse are Property of Joss Whedon. Everything else belongs to me.
Arrakis is gone. Leto is dead and there are only a few of us left now. I'm surprised that there are any of us left at all. It's been over three hundred years since we attacked Tailos Three. Leto, what did you do to us? Are we alive because we're Bene Gesserit or because we're Slayers? Was this your back up plan if we lost? Were you going to make us soldiers in Hell? While the Humans fight against the Machines of the Synchronized Worlds we fight in the shadows against that which they have no defense. They will never know our names or what we do and that's ok. We're Slayers. We will always hold back the night.
Reverend Mother Surayya Raisa Atreides
Last known transmission from the Boomerang Nebula
(Technical note: The Boomerang Nebula is one of the coldest places in the Universe. The nebula itself is only one degree above absolute zero. It may contain a Bose-Einstein condensate which would display large scale quantum phenomenon such as temporal indeterminism.)
Aboard the warship "Memories of Dawn" things were falling apart. The ship was being hammered by waves of energy emanating from the artificial moon Tailos three. The moon was glowing. The crew could see it clearly as a diamond hard star against the pale gas giant.
Reverend Mother Surayya Raisa prayed silently for her friend Motorria. Whatever she was doing down there was lighting up the solar system.
Lisa Mandrake moved up behind Surayya at the command console. Surayya could see the fear on her face.
"Two more ships are gone." Lisa said as the ship rocked to the side. "We…" Lisa stopped as something on one of the monitors caught her attention. "The Xander Harris is out of position." Lisa pointed out.
Surayya scanned the control monitors. Lisa was right. One ship was headed back into the maelstrom of Tailos Three.
"That's Wilma's ship." Surayya said. "What is she up to?"
Aboard the Xander Harris, Wilma Plankton ordered her ship into the storm. The warships, as designed by Leto, were tripled armored with an enhanced Holtzman shield and a fair portion of the empire's atomics. The Xander Harris perused a course that would take it within a few hundred kilometers of the moon's surface. The radiation leaking through the shields were already at dangerous levels. In the mind of Wilma Plankton a far more intense storm was raging.
"That's it girl." She heard the Baron Harkonnen say in her mind. "Just a little closer and I will finally have the power to destroy every trace of the damned Atreides." Wilma cradled her head trying to block out the headache that came from nowhere. Every since she had undergone the spice agony the voice of the Baron had grown stronger. Wilma feared she was becoming abomination.
"Not so fast fat boy." Another voice chimed in. "I've seen guys like you my whole life. Always up to no good with a chip on your shoulder. Always thinking you're the Big Bad. Well, I've seen a lot worse than you get a smack down.
"Who dares!" The Baron roared.
"I dare." said the voice from Wilma's distant past. "The name's Faith and you're in for a whoopin."