#thulaz

A sneak peek for my other fic for The Fight We Takethe@galrashipzine Thulaz zine, which will be free to download soon! “Those Who Live and Those Who Die” is a story about death, knowledge, and Galra poetry, feat. special guest star: Kolivan!

His chest ached and his sides felt tight, lungs burning with every breath, but Thace had to keep breathing. Walking. Breathing and walking were simple actions. It was his task to focus and carry them out, as he always had. His body could not be allowed to fail now. It could not so much as slow. Time could not be spared. A Galra could push their body beyond all endurance through the power of will. More than enduring, he would excel. Thace moved into the pain. Pain was the great teacher. It had one more lesson for him.

Ulaz would have told him to pick up his pace. It would have been a grim joke, meant to encourage him, although Ulaz’s tone would have remained dry and flat. “I know what you’re capable of,” he would have said, with a quiet pride. Thace could almost hear his voice again.

Thace quickened his pace, steeling himself to make his way down the long corridor in stealthy silence. The last time his chest had ached like this had not been so long ago. That earlier ache hadn’t come from a wound, but it had been more severe than any agony the Druids’ unnatural techniques were able to inflict. Thace had been alone then, as he was now. A message had come for him.

When he’d received the transmission from headquarters, Thace had known it would be important. They were always important, though Ulaz would have said some were more important than others. He would have been right. Ulaz always was skilled at prioritizing.

Contact between comrades in the Blade of Marmora was intermittent and brief, by necessity. Messages from headquarters might come in quick succession when a situation escalated and immediate action was called for, but lengthy spans of time could pass with no word. Thace scanned communication channels regularly for anomalies, seeking patterns. Messages wouldn’t come to him by chance. He had to look for them. His military superiors considered him admirably diligent. They had never guessed he was a traitor—until now.

Hello—here’s a preview of my fic, “Rebels of the Foundation” for the Thace/Ulaz Zine: The Fight We Take, which will be free to download at @galrashipzine! (This is secretly a sequel to “Children of the Empire”, but also stands alone.)

“What do we do?” Thace asked, as he and Ulaz gazed down into the hole that had opened in the ground beneath them. From where they stood, no bottom could be seen, only darkness.

“We jump,” said Ulaz. He took Thace’s hand. He held it tight. There was an answering pressure from Thace—an agreement, or a promise. On the edge of emptiness, they hesitated, then leapt forward into uncertainty and open air.

The series of events that had led them to this leap had begun with Ulaz’s uncle and Thace’s promotion, phoebs ago. “I want you to be careful,” Uncle Kolivan had said, gold eyes glaring down at Ulaz over the cloth that protected his mouth and nose. The red planet that was home to the Foundation for Children of the Empire wasn’t naturally habitable. Galra technology had created a livable zone where the Foundation could flourish and provide a home for the orphaned and surrendered children of the empire.

“I’ve been careful.” Ulaz tried not to be petulant. That would make him sound young. Uncle Kolivan was rarely able to make his clandestine visits to the planet’s surface, and Ulaz could only use his science experiments as a cover for sneaking off the school grounds so often, so Ulaz had to take advantage of the little time given to him to convince his uncle to let him do what he wanted to do.

“And so you should remain. You are not an active agent. You are not to act like one. The Blade of Marmora is not the Empire. We do not use children as our operatives.”

“I’m not a child.” Too late, Ulaz realized what he’d done. He’d said what a child would say.

“Enough. I’ve made myself clear.” Ulaz could tell from his tone of voice that Kolivan would not be moved. “Ulaz. Be well.” Kolivan leaned down to press the side of his cheek against the top of Ulaz’s head, and no matter how affectionate the gesture was, Ulaz could tell he’d been dismissed.