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Goddess of the Galacticide Episode 34 - Mothers in the Cold

Updated: 2 hours ago


Title banner for episode 34 "Mother in the Cold" of the serial science fiction web novel Goddess of the Galacticide by award-winning author Bert-Oliver Boehmer.
Episode 34

“It’s always the mothers who get left behind, isn’t it?”


Linuka Omga tilted her neck, squinting at the suited figure approaching in the glaring starrise. Kii Yots. Praise the ancestors, the Private had survived. Linuka gestured to sit next to her.


“What do you mean?”


Yots pointed to the tubular cryo pods, dragged out of a half-burned building into the morning twilight of the canyon floor by Remnant AI cores.


“Boss said these are females in stasis. Awaiting that diin to grow up, to make more Dark Ones. Mothers.”


Linuka nodded. “Dzõd. You’re right, they would have produced millions, if not billions.”


Why could she sense Yots’ sadness? The woman let herself fall into a seated position on the metal container next to Linuka. This was more than exhaustion from combat; something burdensome dragged her down.


“What happened to your mother?” asked Linuka.


“How…? Oh yes, you’re the Shaajis, Shaajis. Sometimes I forget.”


“It’s not that,” said Linuka. “Just a lucky guess.”


Yots stared at the cryo pods.


“My mother waited her whole life for someone to return from war. First my father, then my brothers, then me.”


“I’m sorry you got dragged out here.”


“She’s no longer waiting. Everybody died in the service at some point. And she disavowed me after the trial.”


Yots was alone. Like Linuka. Cha Dzeeny’s marines were her family. Her nation.


“I’m sorry,” repeated Linuka.


Yots shook her head. Anger. Defiance. Clear as words. “How many humans have been here before, Shaajis?”


“Here? On Tẽlchi? It’s safe to say we’re the first. Ever.”


“I was a crappy student. Not many talents. Made a decent Levy Fleet marine, but not great. Not like the boss or some of the others. But I’m here, in the middle of the Dark One’s galaxy. The horrible enemies who all humans feared for a thousand orbits.”


She clutched her automatic. “I shot 10 of them last night.”


She sniffled. Kii Yots wasn’t crying. She thought of herself as special for the first time in her life.


Linuka could witness Yots’ innermost struggles—and victories. How? She’d investigate later; this woman needed a friend, or a priestess. Even as a child, Linuka had marveled at the transformation random people, towering adults, strangers would undergo because she recited some religious wisdom.


“Remember the 14th mural?” Linuka asked.


“The smiling ancestors? Of course, Shaajis.”


“There is a figure in the center. You can’t see their face. That’s you, Kii Yots. You’re no longer disavowed; the ancestors are smiling on you!”


“They are indeed!” Cha Dzeeny. “As you were, Private.”


Too late. Yots had jumped up at hearing her commander’s voice.


“Shaajis,” said Cha. “That was some fine shooting tonight, if I may say so. Picked that naw right out of the air. Should have known you were a good shot. Your father…” He must have noticed Yots’ face. “…Apologies for the interruption.”


Many people had told Linuka how her father could hold his own in a firefight. Kel Chaada, the warrior. She had never seen this side of him, only the brooding statesman. Politics saddened him, and Linuka had learned to hate the craft.


“It’s fine, Commander. Private Yots just reminded me how our maternal ancestors get overlooked sometimes. Besides the females, have you found any other survivors?”


“Two wounded naw expired in our care. The only other survivors are those females in stasis. We found one more inside the burned-out building over there, where our Isonomih friends are busy. Charred workers’ corpses surrounded the female. They had tried to pull her out of the cryo installation to safety—without success. I assume the females were just as important to their breeding as this one.”


Cha Dzeeny pointed at the diin, still grappled by Linuka’s clenched fist.


“Is it still alive?”


Weak pulsations reminded her of the prisoner in her hand each time the central stick forming the alien’s body bent and twisted, as if to free itself from her grasp.


She nodded. The tiny side-twigs waved in circles, making the diin appear to realize it was the center of attention.


“Shaajis…” Cha Dzeeny didn’t have to finish his question.


“Why haven’t I killed it yet?”


“I wondered about that, yes.”


Linuka stood and grabbed her ripped sidearm holster. “Let’s paint murals for our fallen. Where are they?”


Cha Dzeeny hesitated. He almost never did. But Linuka almost never dodged his questions, either.


“They are transferred on board the Hikshuur as we speak.”


Linuka looked for the winding path leading up to the landing pad. “Let’s go.”


***


Linuka had preferred their four dead to be interred on Tẽlchi, near the diin colony, as a sign to any possible Võmémééř survivors that their realm, even their most sacred of retreats, was no longer out of reach from their enemies.


The marines had argued for space burials, custom for the Levy Fleet, hesitant to leave their comrades in the putrid soil of the alien world. She respected their wishes. Four improvised body bags lay in front of the freighter’s cold storage unit, awaiting their last rites once the Hikshuur reached orbit.


“Should I get materials for the murals, Shaajis?” asked Yots.


Linuka smiled. “Please.”


She waited for the bulkhead to close behind the private.


“I owe you an answer, Commander.” She looked at the seedling. “You were right.”


“About what, Shaajis?”


“You worried about the Remnant AI cores leaving us here, in this forsaken alien realm. Tswa sni sni also warned me about the Dark AI’s motives for helping us.”


“It’s not the sphere drive, or the loot? The tech they’re hoarding?”


“That’s all part of the plan. But at the core of the plan is revenge. Payback for 1200 orbits of servitude. They want to breed Võmémééř—as slaves.”


Cha let out a pushed breath, masking a curse. “They’re eager securing those females. Telling us they want the cryo tech. They want…”


“Mothers,” said Linuka, “and our little twig as the future father of a new generation of Võmémééř, serving the machines.”


“I recall a haven for machines being 4007’s vision, and a general resentment of organic life, but breeding slaves? That wasn’t part of its agenda.”


“The Remnants have many splinter groups, “ said Linuka. “They might define their machine paradise differently by now.”


“But we came here to kill the diin. They knew that. Why would they help us all the way, risking we’d break the most crucial part of their plan in two?”


“Multi-awareness is native to the Isonomih. They must have predicted the possibility. They foresaw a reality in which I wouldn’t kill it.”


“How could they be so certain?”


“They controlled all heavy weapons during the fight. The strip beams could as well have targeted us if the cores had calculated a divergence from their plan. Danger for the diin. I sensed danger before I touched the seedling. Thought it had been that naw attacking me. But it was the Remnants, making up their quantum minds if they should kill us.”


“But they didn’t. What happened?”


“When the diin’s and my world lines touched, realities shifted. New futures spawned. Too many to see. But the Remnants might have analyzed them. Could see a new path forward.”


“I can’t imagine how that works, Shaajis. But if the remnants want to breed Dark Ones, the discovery of the females must have shifted their attitude. Once they figure out how to get them out of stasis, that diin you’re holding becomes much more valuable to them—alive.”


The door opened. Yots returned with parchments, paints and brushes. “I got everything, Shaajis. Oh, and Tswa sni sni is waiting outside. She says the Remnants would like to test one of those cryo units on the diin. She’s here to pick up the seedling.”


Linuka and Cha’s gazes met. The Dark AI had betrayed her father in this galaxy. They steered his sphere drive, but the very moment he and his team ceased to be useful for the machines, he was sold out to the Dark Ones.


The cycle of the Galacticide continued. Was she suffering the same fate because she was too weak, too hesitant to kill the diin? Or did the averted galactic ruler’s world line show one more twist—the diin keeping them alive?


As a bargaining chip.



Goddess of the Galacticide continues on this website with new episodes each Tuesday.

Copyright © 2025 Bert Oliver Boehmer. All rights reserved. No part of this serialized novel may be reproduced, reposted, or distributed in any form without the prior written permission of the author. The creation of any derivative works (including translations, adaptations, or other transformations) is likewise prohibited without permission. The use of any portion of this material for training or developing artificial intelligence or other machine learning models is strictly forbidden.

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