Thomas Wrightson (he/him)

@thomaswrightson

Writer of fiction, currently with Roan & Weatherford. In life and art: Veritas Vincit ("truth prevails"). Current projects: The Cluster Cycle, The Angry House. Website:

558 Siguiendo1597 Seguidores2449 Publicaciones

YouTube YouTube YouTube Website Bluesky

¿Es tu perfil?Reclámalo y thomaswrightson.dirty.social es tuyo.Reclamar perfil

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· 14d

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'ride' #BookQW Those who are the loudest in feeling are sometimes the quietest in speech. For Ali, that silence is not by choice. #scifi #spaceopera #drama #spaceopera #sample #BookSky💙📚

“Come. Quickly.”
The human narrowed her eyes. “What game is this?”
“No game. We’re going before the place gets blown to atoms. Ambassador Laffw’s giving us a free ride.”
“Hardly free, I’d guess. But are you serious?”
“Completely. Well?”
Prisoner 74 seemed deep in tortured thought, but it lasted only a moment. Ali almost grimaced at this false display, all for the Feles’s benefit. He must be completely under her thumb. So like a human, using their wiles to get under everyone’s skin in one way or another. Like in the Human-Ekri Conflict’s aftermath, persuading the Synod that they were in the right as the victors.
As Atarex all but dragged Prisoner 74 from the room, the collar round her neck began screeching. The Feles quickly used his control wristband to disable the alarm. It was just two seconds of noise, but that was still two seconds too long. Footsteps sounded behind them. Two guards responding to the call, human by sound of their stride. Before they were round the bend in the corridor, she slipped through and behind them, delivering two swift blows with the small dagger hidden in her tight-wound sleeve. The men fell with a choking cry, their spinal cords severed at the neck.
The Feles was clearly shocked by the swift dispatch. The human merely nodded and spoke directly to Ali.
“Impressive. Your name?”
Ali looked at the woman without even opening her mouth. What was the point? There was no voice to answer. Though she could not blame the human for not knowing. The ring adornments round her neck hid nearly all the scarring from those injuries of long ago. The wounds from a human’s rifle weapon which had torn her voice away. Bapti stepped in and introduced the two of them with a bow.
“Forgive my companion.” She spoke in the same honey-like voice that always grated upon her nerves. “She is mute.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· 15d

A small appreciation post for one of my favourite artists, Yoshitaka Amano. No AI (as yet, touch wood), and all absolutely GORGEROUS! #art #amano #appreciation #artsky

Yoshitaka Amano concept artwork for "The Evil Goddess" from Fairy Fencer F Advent Dark Rising: a blue-shaded artwork showing a goddess clothed in armour and draping diaphanous fabric with horn-like crown.

Yoshitaka Amano's tribute artwork for Clair Obscure Expedition 33: Characters Verso and Maelle face against the boss character "Duellist".

Yoshitaka Amano's promotional art for Final Fantasy XVI: Nine magical creatures dubbed "Eikons" are positioned against a golden background.

Yoshitaka Amano artwork depicting the Buddhist monk Nichiren Shonin, inspired by his work "The Gohonzon"

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· 21d

#anxiety #psa #writerslife

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· 21d

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'decide/decision'. #BookQW Faarax decides to confide in his on-off lover about something that will change his crew's fate forever. #scifibooks #scifi #spaceopera #adventure #horror #BookSky💙📚

Faarax ducked the subject. The discussion of whether, in this age of space travel and scientific advancement, faith and soul had any meaning was far beyond his patience or understanding. But Evelyn was clearly frightened. They hadn’t been this tense, this earnest, in all the time he had known them. Faarax found himself embracing Evelyn for the very first time. Not like a younger brother, or anything like blood family, or even just a friend, but like someone who…. Who what? He didn’t know. Was it just the emotions from the upcoming departure that were making him like this?
He finally made his decision. “You know that datacube I got? The one
from that old man?”
“Yes?”
“It’s got good data on it. Data for something big. And we’re part of the
expedition that’s getting it.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am.”
This was hardly right to calm Evelyn. Without any word to Faarax, they pulled away and went to the window again. Staring out on the poky street and stark view into space, where the filtered light of Megara-Lux was showing, Evelyn looked like a pose for some statuette of tortured martyrdom. They were trying to screw themselves up to saying something.
“What is it?”
“I… had a visit, while you were gone. The Law Officers came. They questioned me about you. They…. You didn’t tell me the man you met was killed.”
“It didn’t seem important.”
“It is. It was. I know it. He was killed because of that datacube. You know it. Don’t insult my intelligence.”
“What did the Law Officers want?”
“They wanted to know whether I’d ever met him. They…. They didn’t…. Faarax, he was a criminal. An old criminal. Have you ever heard the name Black Sutton?”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jul 8

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'simple'. #BookQW On the eve of a journey, the young Faarax and the Android Livesey fall into talk about their circumstances, and the housing of a space station. Has anything really changed? #scifibooks #spaceopera #scifi #writingcommunity #BookSky💙📚

“It’s the heating.”
Livesey’s words as she came in with their minimal possessions and luggage had made Faarax start. “Eh?”
“The Canopy’s prices. I saw you ogling the furnishings earlier and now you’re looking at the outside with a similar expression. You were wondering about prices and such?”
“Yeah.”
“Everyone needs heat. It’s quite simple really. The Branches have longer to go for heating, and since they’re the Cape’s weak point are less of a priority as in the case of an emergency they can be jettisoned. In the Canopy, heat is more plentiful and the distribution easier.”
“But why are the prices so high?”
“You need those rents to pay for the Branches to have services. Plus all of this costs money. The generators and regulators can’t run and maintain themselves, and that’s before you factor in entertainment, transport, all the usual little things that make the Capes little space-borne cities. Solar power this far out from our local star is a little… unreliable. And as for the lower levels, they’ve got their own heat supply from all the equipment down there.”
“What about the Dark Zone?”
“That’s the very embodiment of its existence. A middle ground. It’s heated from above and below, and the cooling tubes to keep the machinery in the lower sections from burning up flow under the floor. That’s why it fogs up and rains there. Also, it’s the end of the Canopy. No great need for climate control. And—”
“I think I’ve heard enough.”
Hadn’t he been told all this before? Solet watched Faarax move away, and tried not to wince as Livesey’s little speech stopped dead as if she had slammed down a metal shutter. It was one of the few things left revealing the barrier between flesh and mechanical. An organic being would peter out and fade, or maybe carry on regardless until the dissertation erupted into an argument.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jul 5

First Vanillaware on PC? Yep, I'm sold.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jul 1

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'after' #BookQW Aboard the Benbow, Faarax and Lenore share a strange connection; mother and adopted son, and enemies sworn to fight to the death. #scifi #spaceopera #BookSky💙📚

“Some salve and bandages for these.”
“Hadn’t noticed. I can do it.”
“Nonsense. Both your hands are burned, I can tell. You’re being foolish, not brave. What will you use to apply it, your teeth?”
Faarax argued no further. Rather than go straight to the control area, the two went to the ship’s sick bay. Hardly the most lavish example of its type, nor did it have a dedicated doctor ministering to its patients. It was all rough and ready, served and administered by the self or a willing companion. Seated on the small room’s single sick bed, Faarax allowed his hand to be treated and bandaged. Lenore performed this action with all the gentle maternity any mother might give her son.
She looked hard into the boy’s eyes. Was that a slight softening? Or frustration? Would their bargain have to be delayed? Might as well ask and get it over with.
“Does this mean the bargain’s off for now?”
Faarax nodded, his mouth sullen. “Yeah. Can’t kill you with duff hands.”
“No, you can’t. But these should heal in a week or two.”
“Thanks. For the assist.”
“Whatever our agreements, you’re still my son in all but blood. And any
mother looks after her son.”
The two stared at each other, the unspoken agreement reaching across any boundaries of either family or species. It was a deep, unspoken connection. An agreement most would see as unsettling or unnatural. One the others either knew nothing of, or pretended not to see. She had brought him aboard, a frightened and sullen child, nearly fifteen years ago. Solet had appreciated the addition of some young blood, and a competent Feles combat expert. The pair had carved their niche among the ragtag crew. But always the agreement, the tacit understanding.
“When the day comes, I’ll kill you.” Faarax had said.
“And when that day comes, I’ll let you try, but you may fail.” Lenore
had said.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 28

#LGBTQWriteAThon June 28: One magical line share. #QueerWriters #pride #writesky #writingcommunity

The only sounds in the control room at that moment were the thrumming of a few systems still up and running, and the occasional rustle of cloth or creak of leather from my own body. I was resting for a moment after trying a few desultory software restarts in the vain hope that it would magically sort the issue. Then I leaned back, tipped my hat over my eyes, and thought. I think I must’ve fallen asleep, because the scene outside was very different when I poked the hat brim up again.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 24

PROBABLE SCAM ALERT: This person doesn't sound like who they are. If you get an email like this, triple check it! I've already sent a message to the company involved. Always, ALWAYS, be on guard. #writerslife #scamalert #writingcommunity

Screenshot of an email. Text follows...

"Hello Thomas,

I hope you're doing well.

I recently came across Starborn Vendetta and wanted to reach out.

What immediately caught my attention was the character at the centre of the story. The idea of a ruler presumed dead, beginning again from an asteroid prison and determined to reclaim everything she has lost, creates a compelling foundation for a larger tale of revenge, ambition, and survival. I was also intrigued by the scale of the world you've built and the blend of political intrigue and adventure woven throughout the premise.

My name is Harriet Egleton, and I serve as Head of UK Literary and Film & TV Scouting at DSLS. Part of my role involves identifying books and authors whose work may have opportunities for wider positioning, rights development, and related opportunities.

After spending some time learning more about Starborn Vendetta and your plans for The Cluster Cycle, I felt it was worth introducing myself. I would be interested in hearing more about your goals for the series and exploring whether there may be opportunities worth discussing.

If you'd be open to a conversation, I'd be delighted to connect and exchange ideas.

Thank you for your time, and I wish you continued success with The Cluster Cycle and your future writing.

Best regards,

Harriet Egleton

Head of UK Literary and Film & TV Scouting
DSLS"

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 24

Book Quote Wednesday's word is "drive". #bookqw Faarax and Lenore live a hard life on board the Benbow, but it's the only life they have, apart from each other. #scifi #spaceopera #adventure #writesky #BookSky💙📚

“Got any plans?”
She was looking at Lenore with narrowed eyes and a jovial smile. The Feles shrugged.
“Not really. Find somewhere to get some food that hasn’t been preserved in our freezers or processed into packages. Then find somewhere to sleep that isn’t my bunk.”
“How low are your ambitious.”
“We poor Feles are limited in that regard.”
The Kavki laughed. The two often had little sessions of banter like this. It meant nothing. They were just playing on ancient species stereotypes, joking with an old enmity that reached back to the Xeno Conflict. They still had a trace of that, an old instinctual dislike for the other’s species, but any conscious animosity was swept aside. All that remained was the dream of all on this ship. The dream of finding something better.
Lenore turned to the captain. “Permission to leave with Faarax and pre
pare for docking?”
“Permission granted,” was the sullen reply.
Lenore left the bridge in pursuit of her child as Sudu entered, looking flushed but satisfied. It took little time for the pair to meet up again, as Faarax had not gotten far. As they traveled in their lift to the docking control area, Lenore looked at her adopted child. He was hissing a little in pain, but kept it under control.
“You okay?”
“Sort of. I don’t like clambering on that warp drive. But then I don’t like a lot of things I’ve gotta do on this ship. No need to fuss, it’s not like I was hurt.”
“It won’t be forever. And you did get yourself burned.”
“Where?”
Lenore gently pulled off one of Faarax’s gloves. The skin under it was red, almost raw from the heat of the conductors. He winced as she gently tapped the palm.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 21

#LGBTQWriteAThon June 21: Funny end line? I'll let you judge. #QueerWriters #pride #writesky #writingcommunity

Now, I know I’m not the best at poetry. But I think the best way I can sum up what walked into the door at that moment is this. A desert flower, worn by the sun, but still soft and with a smile like a full moon on a summer’s night. And damn was he hunky and well hung when he stripped off that red and grey tracksuit he always wore. What? I said I’d be poetic, not mannered.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 20

This is from the time I went to Milan with family in 2024/2025 and saw the Yoshitaka Amano exhibition there.

Image of "Japan 1" a painting by Yoshitaka Amano: a half-naked female figure in white reclines against a background of gold.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 17

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'never' #BookQW Captain Solet of the Benbow is forced to make a snap decision to save his ship and fellows from a supernova explosion. #writingcommunity #scifi #spaceopera #BookSky💙📚

“Guess we’ll have to do it. Out.”
Lenore was staring at Solet. “What the hell are you doing?”
“If we can put up enough of a barrier, and match the light frequency of the blast, we’ll be able to ride it out. It’ll be bumpy, and might blow a few minor systems, but we’ll be able to stay in warp and not blow ourselves up.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
“The other ships have back-ups. We’ll probably be blown to bits. Well?”
Alkmeney looked at the timer. “Impact in two minutes.”
“If this works—” Lenore never finished her sentence.
Solet settled himself, watching the stream of orders and confirmations through the comm chat. The crews of all four ships were working like maniacs, lowering their warp field output and preparing the light frequency adjustment. It was a long two minutes. It felt like more than that. Every crew member who cared tried must be trying not to imagine the solar shock wave striking them. The other ships had reduced their warp field power quite quickly, and according to the display had moved into a horizontal triangle formation around the Benbow. The small ship rested at the heart of the formation, like a single cygnet protected by a gaggle of swans.
Alkmeney looked hard at the console, focusing on the slow ticking of time. “Impact in one minute…. Fifty seconds….”
Solet tightened his grip on the console. Syndac glared at him.
“Sometime today would be nice.”
“Not yet.” Solet spoke in a hiss. “We do it now, we might as well not do it at all.”
“Forty seconds.”
“All ships, stand by.”
Through the displays, Donovan, Gustav, and Dashall all waited in expectation, their faces through the comm displays tense despite the relatively low risks to their own ships. The bridge crew of the Benbow were more worried, and all visibly prepared to leap into ordering lightning repairs if there was any sign of failure following the initial impact.
“Thirty seconds.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 16

#LGBTQWriteAThon June 16: I like chapter titles (though I may not use the 'chapter' designation), since they can be teases and puns at the same time. I also enjoy epigraphs where appropriate. My WIP uses them. Here's the Chap.2 one as an example. #QueerWriters #pride #writesky #writingcommunity

File 2/ファイル二
The Stray I Met One Day

Our livelong days we never meeting
Move as do stars in other clusters
Yes this evening (‘And what an evening!’)
We’re sharing this lamp and candlelight.

Tu Fu, ‘For Wei Pa, In Retirement’,
translated by Arthur Cooper

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 14

#LGBTQWriteAThon June 14: Line share - support. And today on the 'rickety ship' chronicle... #QueerWriters #pride #writesky #writingcommunity

“You spent most of your last job’s pay on getting your engine sorted. And even then you had to haggle.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Shit, this week just keeps getting better and better.” I spat to one side. “First a job goes sour on me, then the jump engine packs up, now the filter system’s fucked. What next, the life support giving out?”
There was a thrumming noise from somewhere. I started up, and cursed my big mouth. It was coming from one of the air vents.
“Nui, what’s that?”
“Some clogging in the air system. Probably needs a clean out.”
“Ah, fucking hell!” I kicked at the console and leaned back again. “Is there anyone posting jobs in the Mars area? I can still make a landing, I hope. If not it’ll be a good way of going out quickly.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 12

#LGBTQWriteAThon June 12: I've chosen a symbol and a flag. My lead Delsin (plus two others) is gay, so I chose the Chrysanthemum flower. His partner Mona is ace. #QueerWriters #pride #writesky #writingcommunity

Image of a group of Japanese 'Ogiku' chrysanthemums

Asexual flag. "The black represents asexuality, the grey represents grey-asexuality and demisexuality, the white represents non-asexual partners and allies, and the purple represents community."

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 7

#LGBTQWriteAThon June 7: Line share, lovers. More like "paragraphs share", and from a drafted bit. Enjoy! #QueerWriters #pride #writesky #writingcommunity

Urshan chuckled, held my hand. Yeah, it was just like I remembered, that slight scar across the fingers from a stray shot. I then realised that Mona was staring at us. She wasn’t shocked or anything, just perplexed at the fact I had any kind of romantic partner. If it’d been a ghi’vka woman, she’d have been just as surprised. Most humans – barring shitheads like Wayne – have gotten past their Victorian hereto prejudices, and don’t mind if you like a woman’s garden or a guy’s mountains.
“Mona, this is Urshan. He’s my...” I turned to Urshan, stumped for a word. “What the hell do I call you to a human? Not husband, we’re not paired. And we don’t live together, so...”
“Maybe try lover?”
“Lover’s good. Urshan’s my h’rsvekyis. In human terms, he’s my lover. Of long standing.”
Mona shook his hand easily enough. “A pleasure. Unexpected, but a pleasure.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Jun 3

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'several' #BookQW A prospective employee of a woman who should be dead confronts his interviewer. Starborn Vendetta is available now! #scifi #drama #spaceopera #BookSky💙📚

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· May 27

It's Book Quote Wednesday and the word is "morning". Flourishing her poetic wit, Mercedes Solari begins laying the groundwork for her masterplan of revenge. Starborn Vendetta is available right now. #BookQW #scifi #spaceopera #BookSky💙📚

Mercedes gestured illustratively. “In the average Chess game, if you take out the most mobile pieces while preserving your own, it gives you an advantage.”
“But one must also not discount the pawns as viable players. They can take your pieces and rise up to replace ones that were lost.”
“So, make the pawns change sides. Without pawns the opponent is, according to your logic, at an even greater disadvantage.”
“How do you make the pawns change sides?”
“By undermining the image of their king.”
Laffw whistled. “Interesting. Daring. And very risky. Do you think you could pull it off?”
“Confidence in one’s abilities is more than half a victory. An old Argo proverb.”
“There is another matter I might mention.”
“My appearance? I hadn’t forgotten.” She placed a hand on the scarring. “The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected. I wouldn’t worry about that too much. People who knew me well would recognize my face with these scars. Certainly my brother-in-law would. But ten years in prison changes you. I saw myself in a mirror in that bathroom and almost didn’t recognize myself. Cover up the scars with makeup or a mask of some kind, dye my hair, change my dress style. No one will recognize me. And it’s amazing how few people actually look at faces.”
“And your sister? Your brother-in-law? You may meet them.”
“I’m sure I will. And if I do, and they recognize me, I’ll handle it. But now I need some time to construct my new identity. If you’ve a library, that would help. And if you wish a contract of some kind.”
Laffw seemed to think for a moment, then smiled. “Maybe once you have your identity ready. Until then, you are my guest.” She gave a slight tap to her comm. “Bapti, come at once.” Bapti appeared with surprising speed. “Take Miss Solari to the library. If you need refreshments, my dear, Bapti will be waiting just outside.”
Mercedes looked directly at the Kavki. “You’re most accommodating. I will ask Bapti to call you when I’m ready.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· May 20

A new acquisition! #BookSky💙📚 #ghoststories #booklovers

Picture of the book "Complete Ghost Stories by M. R. James" on a red background: the title and author are in gold on a pale blue colour block, with an illustration showing shadow figures of someone running from an unknown creature.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· May 20

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'help' #BookQW Back to the beginning, where prison guard Gaspard Atarex, driven by reawakened faith, submits himself to a terrible thing keep another safe. (1/2) #writingcommunity #scifi #spaceopera #drama #BookSky💙📚

He sickened at the thought of their last encounter, that ugly welt in his mind that until now closed his heart. But what else could he do? Nothing, though he might rack his brains for hundred years.
An hour later, in one of the interview rooms on the Factory Level, Gaspard paced up and down with nervous expectancy. He stopped and turned as Echo was pushed inside. The prisoner, a brown-haired Feles with platted locks emerging from his mane, stared at Gaspard for several minutes as the shackles were taken from his wrists and the other guards left. Once the door shut, Echo gave a smile that to all but the knowing would come off as friendly. Gaspard felt sick upon seeing it.
“Nice to see you again, Gaspard Atarex. It’s been so very long since that little issue I helped resolve. I’ve barely seen you since then. I’d almost think you were avoiding me.”
“I’m not here to talk about that. You said back then that if I never needed a favor related to one of the prisoners, I should come ask you about it. You stick by that?”
“Depends. Say what it is.”
“There’s a human female being sent down here. She’s new, and she’s gotten on Witton’s bad side. Make sure no-one down here lays a finger on her and get her onto the easier work schedules wherever possible.”
Echo frowned, fingering one of his locks. “Tricky. I’ll see what I can do—though I’ll need to get several of the guards in on it. And she might
not cooperate.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Just messing with you.”
“Bastard. Keep her safe, you hear?”
“Goodness, such energy. I can but do my poor best.” The smirk turned into an expectant smile. “But something that complicated would entail, I think, a bigger payment than last time. And no vague promises. I’m not in the mood.”
“Look at the camera.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· May 13

Book Quote Wednesday's word is "wander". #BookQW Midflight aboard the Benbow, the android Livesey has increasing reason to mistrust their new crew. Lost Station Circé is out now! Coming soon, The Murderer's Lament. #scifi #adventure #spaceopera #sample #BookSky💙📚

As Livesey checked over the conduit situation, a strange scene was playing out behind her. As one, a Feles, was at the top of a retracting ladder fixing a piece of pipeline for coolant. The other, a gruff-looking human, ended up tripping the wrong function and part-retracting the ladder. With an angry squawk, the Feles clung to the one solid pipe until the ladder re-emerged.
“Hoy! Careful down there! You almost had me off.”
“I did try to warn you this ladder thing wasn’t tuned properly.”
“They need to get this fixed. Hell, why didn’t they get this fixed?”
“It wasn’t on the priority list, probably.”
“Well, maybe when I’m down, we can sort it out. By the way, how’s the wandering one? Tired yet?”
“Not at all—Hist.”
Livesey frowned, quickly turned her head. For a moment before all resumed normality, the human was glaring at her. The last time Livesey had seen such a glare was when accused of eavesdropping on a squadron commander in an earlier incarnation. The human’s face switched with an impassive calm and the two changed topics to something quite urbane.
“Have you met Faarax yet? He’s a dear when he’s not being a sullen brat.”
“Ouch. Still, I see what you mean. He’s quite… solid.”
“Sullen.”
“What you call sullen, I call solid.”
“It’s that ‘mother’ of his. That Feles. She’s a piece of work.”
“Says the Feles.”
“There’s Feles, and Feles. She’s—”
And it was then that the Kavki in charge of sorting out the couplings noticed their listener. Livesey pulled away from this equally-intriguing exchange.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· May 6

It's Book Quote Wednesday and the word is 'dry'. That word can mean many things, including the dry words of a warrior to the world at large. Lost Station Circé is available now, and its sequel is coming soon! #BookQW #scifi #spaceopera #adventure #BookSky💙📚

“Speaking of remembering, is the map safe?”
“Quite.” Livesey’s face softened suddenly as she remembered the datacube and its store of precious data. “Quite safe. Even if it weren’t I’ve copied all essential information, so if anyone takes the datacube itself, we’ll still have a copy.”
“And if they take you with the cube?”
“I’ll detonate it. And at the worst, wipe my memory core.” Livesey’s face took on a determined look. “I’m not letting them have this. It’s too fine to be handled by such lowly hands as I know would seek it.”
“Like ours?”
“I didn’t mean you. Or Faarax, or Lenore, or even Syndac. You’re good people, good to me. I meant Sygint and his ilk. They wouldn’t stop short of tearing my circuits apart to extract the data byte by byte.”
No one laughed at this strange wordplay. Livesey clearly hadn’t expected anyone to laugh, and Solet knew that wouldn’t change. She made such quips with the dry solidity of her kind. He accepted the slight sick feeling such cold humor induced in him. Livesey left the room, and Lenore looked at Faarax as he flopped on the bed.
“There’s a small arena nearby. Care to have a try?”
The human looked directly at her. “Not right now. My hands haven’t
healed completely yet. Besides, we’re about to embark on a difficult mission, I don’t wanna risk injuring myself.”
“I see.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Apr 29

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'free' #BookQW Exiting a special anomaly to freedom, the crew of the Benbow face the distorting impact of a black hole. #writingcommunity #scifi #spaceopera #adventure #BookSky💙📚

Lenore’s voice broke the monotonous silence. “Any update?”
Livesey glanced at her instruments. “No sign of us leaving the time dilation yet. As I believe I said less than thirty seconds ago.”
“It was a lot longer than that. Or it felt like it, at least. Would we know if we were approaching the edge?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Nothing like that is determined.”
Syndac’s voice groaned out. “Oh, do be quiet. You are wasting valuable conversation. Save it for later. We need all the entertainment we can get.”
The silence fell again. Fell like a stone. Alkmeney slumped on her console, looking down at the navigational readings. Her eyes watched as the speed marking wavered slowly between two points. The ship, balanced delicately between the inner edges of the black hole and the sludge of dark mass, continued on at what many warp connoisseurs would call a sluggish pace. In normal space, they might make double or triple this speed. It was soul-numbing to see such a low result from so much applied power and determination.
It was about half an hour later when her eye realized something. The number was climbing. Slowly, it was true, but it climbed nonetheless. Ascended with the inexorable certainty and power of the professional free climbers conquering the icy faces of New Plutrac.
“Livesey, check the warp readings.”
“Hmm?”
“Just check them.”
Livesey did as she was asked. Her eyes lit up. Her own power readings were climbing, just as Alkmeney’s speed indicator was. Solet jerked away at the sound of animated voices.
“What’s happening?”
“Our speed is increasing.”
“And we’re getting more power output to match.” Livesey’s voice was losing its control. “Wait…. Yes. I’m seeing a change in the gravitational pressure on the warp field. it’s shifting as I’m talking.”
“I’m getting sensor feedback. Stellar readings. Normal space. We’re nearing the entrance.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Apr 26

#queerwriters Sunday Line Share (on the theme of 'turn'): From my upcoming novel "The Murderer's Lament." #writingcommunity #scifi #lgbtqwriters

Sedna, despite her knowledge and her own shaken nerves, decided to stay and turned to her partner. “Get the others back to the house. They need stiff drinks. Especially you and Dycart. We’ll stay here and wait for the proper authorities.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Apr 22

Today's Book Quote Wednesday word is 'better'. #BookQW The word can be many things, here it is an emphatic to ascertain a withheld truth in the face of a potential fortune. #writingcommunity #scifi #spaceopera #BookSky💙📚

That strange path went into the Uncharted Belt. It bounced from coordinate to coordinate, never getting too close to the thinning ranks of stars. It finally reached a point apparently in the middle of nowhere. There, a pulsing beacon, two rings of coordinates surrounding that projected light, showed the destination as clearly as any paper map might have done in archaic tales.
Everyone looked, fascinated, and then Solet whistled. “That’s quite a way off. Without high warp, it’d take centuries at least.”
Livesey spoke like an automated teacher “My estimate is that without warp, it would take approximately five hundred and twelve years at near-light speed to reach that point. And even with warp, the journey would take… perhaps… a fortnight. A month there and back.”
Syndac’s voice was like cold water. “That would be quite a trip. I’d have thought half that time over such a distance. Even alone, I doubt one ship would manage it without extensive preparation. Certainly ours might not make it back.”
Sudu now spoke, sounding a subtly excited note. “And it’s the perfect place to hide something. Let’s be honest, who would think of looking out there?”
Lenore broke in. “To use a Kavki analogy, it’s like being a single atoll in the middle of a vast ocean. And in that atoll, a knob of ore. If the tales are to be believed.”
Alkmeney almost sounded like Syndac in her condemnation. “This could all just be a hoax. Livesey, how old is the data? And is there any chance it was artificially aged?”
“I’ve checked.” Livesey was firm. “All signs of aging are genuine. It’s practically impossible to fake the age of data. As to its age based on my calculations… I would say the datacube was first struck around five centuries old.”
“That’s how long that man said—” began Faarax, then stopped.
Solet eyed him. “I think you’d better tell us everything you know about this. Everything, mind.”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Apr 15

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'family' #BookQW Memories flood Lenore's mind as she considers one family she sacrificed, and another she found in bloodshed. #scifibooks #spaceopera #adventure #BookSky💙📚

“And all while he watched.”
What followed still haunted her nightmares. Killing her own was a taboo of her people, but was it not also a taboo to kill the innocent? She had slaughtered them as she had slaughtered her prey. She had stood, covered in the blood of hunted and hunter, and looked again at the little boy. He had been staring at her, and continued doing so even as he wept uncontrollably. When she approached, he had yelled at her to stay back, parroting half-remembered obscenities from his deceased human fellows.
Without a word, Lenore had picked him up and carried him out, feeling his little fists beating on her back. She had made up her mind. This boy was bereft of family, of friends, of anything. She would take him in, raise him as if he were her own biological child. If needed, she would renounce her clan altogether. And if he chose, he could come for her when he was old enough. She could easily fend off any attack from this slip of a thing, but when he was older and well trained….
She had faced the stern looks of her clan elders for the transgressions, but they had seen her actions as partially justified. Ultimately, her fratricidal acts were beyond excuse or pardon. She was banished with her little human child, who had grown silent and sullen. The two had spent their first year hopping from ship to ship, taking short-term jobs, once being confined and working off their passage when the funds ran out. When they finally got their freedom, the two had their private talk. The little boy had spoken first.
“I know what you did.”
“I never expect you to forget.”
“I wanna hit you.”
“But your fists can’t hurt me. Perhaps later, they can.”
“You don’t mind me getting stronger?”

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Apr 12

I'm going to get roasted for this and I don't care. Quality is subjective.

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Apr 8

Book Quote Wednesday's word is 'quick' #BookQW On board the Benbow, tensions flare, recalling for its captain Solet some uncomfortable memories. Now available from your book front of choice, Lost Station Circé. #scifibooks #amwriting #spaceopera #BookSky💙📚

“Say what you will. We have our agreement. And if you deign to question it, you’d best know your ground and the grounds of my tribe and his feelings before interfering. It’s not polite to stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
Livesey narrowed her eyes in a very human expression. Lenore matched look for look, both staring like predators to size each other up from the borders of their respective territories. Finally, Lenore laughed.
“Why am I bothering explaining anything to you? You’re—”
“I’m an android?” Livesey pre-empted her slight. “A machine without true emotions? Surely we’ve gone beyond such trite generalizations in these days. I have as much emotion as you or Faarax or even Solet for all his posing as a heartless bastard. No offense.” She made the quick aside to him and he nodded as she continued. “You’re not explaining because you can’t explain yourself.”
Without waiting for Lenore’s reply, Livesey strode out. She almost ran into Syndac, who was passing by the door. Livesey backed away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“So I gathered.” Solet saw Syndac flexing her arm, which had seemingly taken the full force of the blow. “I should be glad if you kept your speed under control. You may have a soft outer layer, but you’re still more solid than anyone else on Cape Cisternaea.”
Solet dived into the bathroom, in urgent need of a dabbing of water to the face. The final exchange between the two was lost as he plunged his face into a sink of water, washing away the memories. Memories of beings like Livesey, people who had… taken….

Thomas Wrightson (he/him)@thomaswrightson· Apr 5

Best Star Trek crew. Wrong answers only.