Goddess of the Galacticide Episode 37 - Passage

Episode 37

“Those bastards cut off the darkstrings.”

Linuka had been too trusting. Technically, the Remnants had delivered on their promise to bring the Hikshuur’s illustrious crew, now including the last diin, back to the plant-dominated world Green Wave. Hemispheric biomass filled the viewscreens. Maneuvering the intergalactic travel-bubble the sphere drive created so close to their destination came at a cost. It nullified all the invisible galactic filaments, which made warp-travel energy-efficient.

“The Hikshuur will have to limp out of here for a light-orbit or so,” thought skipper Oonzu. The Traaz was surprisingly calm about the situation. She could not detect anger, or even annoyance, in their mind-to-mind conversation.

“I appreciate the optimism,” said Linuka. “I just wish the Remnants would not make our return to Assembly-space unnecessarily difficult.”

“These machines cannot disappoint me,” said Oonzu. “I never trusted them, so this is not unexpected. They want to grow this puny alien plant down there. They had already scanned for ideal breeding grounds and started setting up infrastructure. I think they plan on being here for a while, and they want to be undisturbed.”

“You are right. Cutting off easy warp access was not an oversight; it was planned.”

“It will take four times as long, but we can make it to your human space.”

“Thank you for your willingness to keep granting us asylum on your ship, Oonzu.”

“Unlike the machines, you kept your promise, Linuka, ward of Zihriik: money to take care of my offspring, the last glimmer of honor left in my existence. Looking at my cargo hold, you over-delivered. This tech is worth a fortune, even if it has to be sold through the black market. I am a rich ryaag.”

Ryaag. Traaz almost never referred to themselves as individuals; even the term ‘Traaz’ meant ‘us’ in their collective thought-language.

“But this was payment for smuggler’s work,” said Oonzu. “You are now planning to free a family member, and this is honorable. I will gladly fly you to your Assembly-space. But I am certain this ship is now marked by the government, and I do not know if we can keep dodging patrols all the way to your home world.”

Linuka didn’t think her plan was honorable. Removing her aunt from Assembly control was not evil; the purpose-bred Shaajis might even welcome it, but her “freedom” was a means to an end. She lacked the heart—or maybe nerve—to correct Oonzu, who finally respected Linuka as more than a loot-promising troublemaker.

Oonzu mentally paused. Nreedz. She hadn’t guarded the monologue meant for her mind only, and the Traaz had picked up the trail of her emotions.

“I can still call you puny human,” said Oonzu, “if that makes you feel better. But this is not how your fellow humans think about you behind your back.”

Linuka smiled, inside and out. “How would you know about that, skipper? Picked up the human language so you could spy on us?”

“No,” said Oonzu. “But I observe gestures, sense emotions. The other humans revere you. See you as a goddess.”

“Close,” said Linuka. “I am—was—a high priestess. Our shared religion has no deities.”

“I felt what I felt,” said Oonzu.

Traaz. As stubborn as they were long-lived. Regarding one thing, however, Oonzu was 100% correct: The Hikshuur could not deliver the marines and herself to Dziilaa Sok. Not in one piece.

Linuka gave the silicate a grateful mental embrace, then left the Hikshuur’s cockpit for the crew quarters. She chuckled. The goddess needed to see her holy warrior.

***

Cha Dzeeny couldn’t have raised his eyebrows any further.

“Shaajis, you want the Remnants to accompany us further? I thought we were glad to part ways with them here.”

“We’ve returned to a hostile galaxy. Any ship-to-ship encounter on our way could be our last. Oonzu is a skilled pilot, but how is this freighter going to survive patrol destroyers at an interstellar space darkstring connector? Open space, no place to hide, no clever swing-bys. On board the Chéé we’re safe from anything but a full battle-fleet.”

Cha did neither agree with nor argue against her point. Linuka wasn’t wrong, but the Commander’s intuition fought his rational analysis, with no side winning the fight. She knew. Throughout her whole life, that battle raged in her conscious mind. Multi-awareness granted her glimpses into many fringe possibilities, sometimes clouding the obvious. Sometimes these rare options brought salvation, safety, survival. The art of life was knowing when to trust or dismiss them.

“Alright, Commander. Let’s say we don’t convince the Remnants to help us further. Assume we make it to Dziilaa Sok. You were a royal guard in the very palace we’re now trying to break into. What kind of trouble will we run into?”

His shoulders relaxed. Tactical planning was his strength. Solid ground to walk on.

“The first obstacle is getting close to the palace. There is a conical no-fly zone covering the palace grounds extending into low orbit. We could minimize traversal by approaching as low as possible, but we’ll have to cross it. The only air traffic cleared are vessels carrying the Shaajis, or maybe a high-clearance Assembly Member.”

Linuka pouted. “I assume my old codes wouldn’t help?”

“No Shaajis, these codes change every few rotations. Yours will be outdated.”

“What happens if one doesn’t have clearance?”

“The palace air defenses will engage any unidentified vessel in the zone.”

“I don’t remember any air defenses. Have they been added recently?”

“Updated—maybe. But they’ve been installed before your mother was born.”

“Nobody mentioned them to me. Not even my father,” said Linuka.

“Likely for the same reasons your guards didn’t talk about them. The palace was supposed to feel like a spiritual refuge, a grandiose home, not a high-security fortress. I’m certain no one wanted to scare you, especially since you were…”

“A child?” asked Linuka.

Cha hesitated. “You were young, Shaajis. And your father was very protective.”

Yes, he was, thought Linuka. He lived protecting me. He died protecting me.

“What other security measures are in place I didn’t know about?”

Everyone knew where the main palace gate was. Hidden back-doors could present an opportunity.

“There are the secure quarters for the Shaajis.”

“I know about them. The dullest room in the palace.” She remembered the games she played with her handlers, getting to the drab stone cellar. No windows, no toys. These games had been drills for her to reach a safe room, a bunker.

“There are direct access evacuation tunnels, all leading to it. A premature Shaajis would not know them. Royal children used to play in them, hide, and trigger alarms. Only the Royal Guards would know the access points.”

Linuka had been told she was an adventurous child. Maybe she was just a normal child, and her mystic tutors had been clueless about human nature. She would have explored these tunnels in their entirety.

“A general palace security system controls pretty much everything,” said Cha. “Cameras, aerial and ground. Defense coordination. Alarm systems. The evacuation network system is independent and activated only by the four guards on duty assigned directly to the Shaajis.”

“And they will trigger access when she is in danger?”

“Standard protocol, yes.”

Predictable behavior. The obvious thing to do. Most realities would adhere to these pre-planned events, the humans acting according to the drill. A briefly projected fringe event could implode this security, giving the weakest component of the system something it could not deal with. Humans were stunned when presented with the impossible.

“We can make this work,” said Linuka. “But we still need the Remnants to get us there, provide orbital over-watch, and help us escape once we got the Shaajis.”

Cha Dzeeny nodded. “I see you got a plan. But we got nothing left to offer the Remnants. They won’t care about the Shaajis or human politics.”

“No,” said Linuka. “But they will care about their machine prophet—4007.”

Cha paled.

“They’d do anything to free the prophet. Including helping us to put someone in the Assembly to grant them access.”

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

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