There was no ‘next’. Finding the last diin was the mission. Only knowing the seedling’s fate would ensure there was a future for anyone. Linuka sat on the bunk, exhaustion heavy in her bones. Then Cha said it—the words that cracked the silence: ‘We returned… with a sphere drive array.’

Clouds of yellow dust puffed out of the surface. Blue static ran along towering vines. Then the ground shook. A blinding beam erupted skyward, leaving behind a smoking crater. At its bottom, half-hidden in charred plant-matter, gleamed the hull of something impossibly old.

“Strange,” said Cha, squinting upward. “And I don’t like strange.” The marines dealt with the prospect of danger and death with crude, defiant humor. ‘Sick shit’ is what they called the wavy semi-planet wide ecosystem, and it endeared them to Linuka even more. Yet the Remnants’ insistence that humans scout the surface first made it clear: this green world was beautiful, yes—but also dangerous.

“I never ripped apart a paying customer, but you could be the first,” hissed the Traaz skipper. Linuka kept her voice calm. “Let’s talk this through.” Around them, the Dark AIs’ empty hangar loomed—silent, airless, and waiting to see who would make the first move.

“Skipper says he can’t count all the weapon systems locked on us,” said Linuka Omga. A lone freighter, no fleet escort, drifting toward a Remnant battle cruiser. One misstep, and they’d be nothing but wreckage. Yet when the airlock opens and the Dark AI core hovers inside, dread gives way to something stranger—possibility.

Spin after spin went by, just standing there, unable to move, but fully conscious. It was so clean, sterile, antiseptic—like a sickbay stripped of life. Sometimes you just stood in an endless white open; other times they made a room, an office, a lab. It felt real, yet it wasn’t. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” Cha Dzeeny said. “I understand why your tutor would rather face the Dark AI than spend one more spin trapped like that.”

Linuka clenched her fist. “The Assembly won’t act. My marines are buying weapons in back alleys. And you tell me it’s not enough?” Tswa sni sni’s bluish avatar flickered. “Correct. You bring desperation, not certainty. If survival depends on finding the last diin, then your resources fall short.”

Pirates lurk in the darkstrings, convoys shift under Assembly orders, and the freighter Hikshuur races toward danger. Among marines restless for a mission, Linuka must find her voice. What begins as a memory of her mother’s last speech turns into a rallying cry of her own, igniting warriors who refuse to run or hide. Together, they will strike fast, strike final, and strike fatal.

The straps cut deep into Linuka’s skin. She couldn’t breathe. The burn had begun. Anything loose would slice through bodies now. Tiny particles of animal filth puffed from the walls, stinging her nose and tongue. She could not only smell but taste it. Retched. Stop the burn. Make it magiis stop!

The marines woke one by one—confused, weak, and convinced they’d spent years in the dark. But Linuka knew better. Only days had passed. “Help someone who can’t walk. Quiet steps. We’re getting out,” she said. They didn’t ask why she was in charge. They just followed. Behind them: a dead technician. Ahead: alarms, klaxons, and the narrowest window to freedom.

Inside a secret lab, Linuka Omga navigates shifting realities to rescue prisoners—only to face a brutal confrontation when her Uurmi symbiont takes control. As timelines blur and danger escalates, she must decide who to trust—herself or the creature within. This time, the weak link might be her.

Linuka Omga needs a hacker core. The only one she ever met may still be out there—hidden, repurposed, and assigned to the very penal unit she's trying to break into. To find her allies, she’ll have to trace a stolen AI through public records, smuggler networks, and lies.

Linuka Omga finds herself lost in a bizarre suburb of the galactic capital. Haunted by doubt, pursued by Assembly enforcers, and guided by her symbiont’s whisper, she walks straight into a showdown between a smuggler and a local vendor. But danger often disguises opportunity—and Linuka makes a bold offer that could change everything.

Episode 10 Linuka Omga knew they wanted to get rid of her. “Lady Omga, we’re here to escort you to the spaceport.” The uniformed woman...

"There was no afterlife. Remembrance of one’s name was the only eternity. They had lost it." The verdict is in. Cha Dzeeny and his unit stand accused of the highest crime imaginable. As judgment falls, the courtroom delivers a surprising turn—but not one that brings relief. In a galaxy where remembrance is eternity and shame is a death sentence of its own, survival may come at a terrible price.

"Let them kill me. But not my unit." A tribunal seeks blood, not justice. Cha Dzeeny faces the consequences—alone. Goddess of the Galacticide, Episode 8: They Followed Orders.

“Do I fear her? Yes, I do. So should you. She is the first immortal-born human. She is multi-aware. More so: she can manipulate reality.” Lotnuuk Rrupteemaa sounds the alarm in Goddess of the Galacticide Episode 7. But is anyone listening?

The workshop door slid open and a metal ball was hurled into the room. Linuka Omga’s feet were swept from under her. Her silicate protector, Raar, had pulled her body away from the device, putting his massive hulk between her and the explosion.

Returning from the Galacticide Era, Linuka Omga awakens to confusion, loss—and the looming threat of boarders. As her silicate ally Raar prepares for a fight, Linuka must confront the cost of victory, her father’s sacrifice, and the fragile line between reunion and ruin.

Causality bombs. They ripped holes into spacetime—ending the rule of cause and effect.