Goddess of the Galacticide Episode 5 - No One Needs to Die Here

Episode 5

Traversing to the galacticide era had been a convoluted ordeal of funneling one’s mind through a maelstrom of multiversal weirdness. Returning to the reality Linuka Omga called home was akin to waking up from a strange dream.

She felt hot and tense. Someone was pulling her hair.

“Shaajis.”

She saw outlines of several humans, but nothing came into focus. There were voices she did not recognize.

“I can’t just touch her.”

“Take off the connector helmet.”

“Shaajis!”

“You do it!”

An enormous shadow leaned over her. She felt a pull, and the pressure on her head disappeared. Something touched her cheek, cold and rough. Yet, the gentle touch flooded Linuka’s mind with warm, familiar thoughts.

“Raar,” she said, her throat feeling parched, as if she hadn’t spoken a word in an orbit. Why was she laying down? Oh, yes, the equipment they had connected to the probe in the workshop came with lounge chairs borrowed from some tactical streaming station. The clearer the scene became, the louder and more irritating it grew.

“I don’t know where he is.”

“They have been successful, I assure you. Now we need to keep everyone safe.”

“…prepare for boarders in the main hangar.”

The last bit she could understand sounded like a ship-wide announcement. Boarders. They had returned to the era of New Galactic, where Linuka could understand each word without uncertainty. But she didn’t like what ‘boarders’ meant.

She reached for the dark gray silicate mass next to her. “Raar. Help me up.”

She needed to get a grip on this reality, and fast. Arm-like protrusions grew out of the Traaz’s upper body and lifted Linuka out of the chair, slow, gentle, but with powerful ease. Raar stood Linuka up on her feet, supporting her body with great care, preventing her from falling over when the post-helmet connector headache spike set in. She held her head in pain, feeling a soft cap covering her hair.

She ripped the connection membrane off. “Ouch.” It took some of her longer hairs with it, when she discarded it on the workshop floor.

“Tell your marines to stand down,” said one voice. “There was a time for rebellion, and now is the time for compliance.”

“Not until I receive orders.”

“I am ordering you!”

“I only take orders from the Shaajis.”

“The Shaajis is beside herself. She is confused, exhausted. Can you not see this?”

“Unless I hear otherwise, we’re waiting until everyone made it back!”

Linuka saw the chair next to hers. It was empty. She looked at Raar. The heavy silicate warrior stood silent, a singular burning question on his mind. She had to tell him about her father.

“Raar,” she said into the connection of the minds, a private refuge amidst the agitation, “we lost him.”

Raar’s thoughts convulsed, pushing back. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I was there. The trap was set, the breeding couple arrived, but he took my place.”

It had been her turn to die, but her father didn’t allow it. He talked her out of it. No, he made her angry. Made her leave him behind.

“You weren’t there to the end. You don’t know.” Raar had read her thoughts, saw the last scene of Kel Chaada’s life unfold clear as day.

“Raar.” Traaz could be stubborn. “I created a bubble universe to trick the Võmémééř. It collapsed. Vanished with them, and my father, inside.”

“You don’t know that.” Denial became Raar’s mantra.

“Shaajis.” Commander Cha Dzeeny’s face entered Linuka’s field of vision.

She attempted a smile, trying to acknowledge the faithful man who had thrown away a long career of distinguished service to take over this battle cruiser for an insane-sounding plan: destroying the Dark Ones across the realities. She doubted any of the details made sense to him, but he had helped her, regardless.

“Commander,” said Linuka.

She knew he had some lower rank now, but she wasn’t the ‘Shaajis’, the Ancestor Queen, anymore, either. The old Aloo Dashaad etiquette had become meaningless—both ways.

“You and your marines have done your part. It’s time to give the ship back.”

Cha Dzeeny’s eyes wandered to the empty chair. “What about the father of the ancestor?”

“My father is not coming back.”

Dzeeny’s face reflected Raar’s doubt; hopeful rejection, not mistrust, fueled the expression. He opened his mouth, but seemed to struggle for the right words.

“What? Are the spirits safe?”

Linuka nodded. Before her departure had been no adequate time to explain the inter-reality war raging across the multiverse to Cha Dzeeny. This sounds arrogant, but it’s not how I meant it. Linuka was born multi-aware, and she could hardly wrap her own head around the intricacies of the conflict. Instead of a lengthy lecture, she had opted for a religious allegory when she had asked him for help. Cha Dzeeny’s devotion, coupled with Linuka’s high-priestess status, strengthened her argument. It was abusive. She knew what she had done. Technically, she had left the decision to his free will, but did she really?

“Boarding crew transport has landed.”

She had coerced him. Abused her influence. His punishment, a result of her deeds, had arrived at the hangar.

Cha Dzeeny touched his temple implant, no doubt being hailed by his marines awaiting orders for what to do with the boarders. ‘Boarders’ made them sound so antagonistic. Until recently, these boarders had been fellow marines serving in the same Levy Fleet as Cha Dzeeny and his band of mutineers. Now, they weren’t sure if they needed to fight them.

“Commander, tell your marines to lay down their weapons. The mission is over. No one needs to die here.”

“As you wish, Shaajis.” Cha Dzeeny tapped his implant once more, now giving verbal commands.

A timbre of regret underlined his words, having signed up his team for an uncertain future, a reality in which they would be forced out of Levy Fleet service—as the best possible scenario.

“Finally, some sensible action.” Lotnuuk Rrupteemaa’s tall, slender figure approached, carrying the aloof aura of the Assembly immortals, and the ever-present condescension with every single sentence he uttered.

The low-g human pulled Dzeeny aside and bent down to inspect Linuka’s face from an uncomfortable close distance. “Linuka Omga, welcome back. It appears as if you went through quite the adventure, but alas, there is not much time before we all face arrest by the boarders. Let me say two things: You have succeeded! It appears as the threat of the mind-bending assaults on our reality has disappeared.”

The main workshop door slid open and a young crew member entered, his eyes darting around, looking for the Commander. “They’re on their way. They’re taking everyone!”

“And the second thing,” continued Lotnuuk Rrupteemaa, “is my solemn promise that I will do everything in my power to assure fair and lenient treatment for everybody involved in this… mission.” He turned on a benevolent smile and tilted his head as if he wanted to add, “no need to thank me.”

Linuka felt Raar tensing up, saw the translucent spikes growing on his body; pointy, hard as diamonds, and clear signs the Traaz had readied for a fight. Her father’s last words spoken to his closest friend Raar, just before they left, had been “don’t trust Rrupteemaa!”

Linuka inhaled sharply. The realities split before her eyes. As the boarding marines prepared to enter, they brought heavily armed humans who were anxious about what they might encounter, only to meet the saddest, angriest Traaz in the galaxy. If they’d as much as point a weapon at Linuka, Raar might turn the first few of them into blood smears on the workshop wall, before everyone, including him, died in chaotic crossfire.

Rrupteemaa was right. Adjacent realities allowed for multi-awareness again. A short-lived victory, if all Linuka could see was death.

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