They are in Chambers when the message arrives. "Emperor Atreides," says the hologram, a woman with long brown hair bound tight behind her head.
"On behalf of the New Republic, I request an audience with you." The hologram freezes.
"They are Empire-Wreckers," Irulan says. "I do not recommend we engage with them."
"I think that we should meet with them. Perhaps we can learn from them," Alia says, and he turns, regards his sister with suspicion.
His sister sits straight in her chair; she smiles at him, a half-smile, and when she meets his eyes she does not flinch, but he hears what she is trying to say all the same.
"Let them land, then," Muad'Dib announces. "We will hear these Republicans. Perhaps they have something to teach us."
"My Lord," Irulan interrupts.
"They may be Empire-Wreckers, Irulan," Muad'Dib says, "But then, so are we."
Alia bites back a grin, and Paul rests his hand on his sister's shoulder.
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