Prologue

A wail rang out, the piercing tone of metal being torn away, shredded by malefic talons. Mor’keth cowered behind his station, his hands clasping the sides of his head, his thin auburn fur sneaking through his thick fingers. He shook, rocking back and forth, tears streaming from his eyes, trickling around his stubby snout.

The noise stopped, the snarling creature vanishing from the camera before him, trailing off beyond Mor’keth’s limited view. He peered over the console, summoning all his bravery to do so. The bulkhead he had slammed behind himself had a cluster of thin gashes dug into it, the results of the nightmare thing pursuing him struggling to get in. He let out a long sigh of relief. The door had held, for the time being at least.

He stood up, puffing out his chest in a false display of bravado. There was no-one else in the command centre. No-one else alive at least. Mor’keth was trying his best not to look at them, to avoid his gaze settling on the mangled limbs or self-inflicted gunshot wounds. His impromptu sign of courage was for himself. Salve for a wounded spirit.

He placed one foot on the small step, pulling himself around behind the lectern that held his console in a swinging motion. Gravity was lower than he had expected. The engines must be losing power, he thought. It was too late to do anything about that now, and far beyond Mor’keth’s knowledge anyway.

He pressed one palm to the console’s touchscreen, and it sprang to life. At least this is still working. Mor’keth’s hand danced across the screen, checking status indicators and loading protocols. Satisfied, he pressed the transmit button.

“This is Junior Communications Engineer Keth, third born for the Mor family. Currently in command of Her Radiant Grace. As far as I’m aware I am the sole survivor of the crew. We have failed in our mission. There is no safe worlds out here, no colonies to settle. There is only death and horror. We were fools, we should have listened to the Speakers. They warned us not to leave our solar system, to fly beyond the grace of the Eternal Mother. They were right.”

His hands pressed another set of icons, a small loading bar appearing beneath the oscillating wave of his recording message.

“Alert!” screamed an automated voice. “Reactor shielding failed on deck seven. Commencing radiation spillage procedure. Bulkheads closing.”

"Out here, in the void, beyond Her light, there is only blackness. Not just the blackness of space, but of being. As I talk something stalks our ship, the blood of my crew dripping from its talons. I…don't know where we are. Our ship is far off course. I pray by Her light that this message returns home, somehow." Mor’Keth rubbed the sides of his head. He knew, deep down, that it could centuries to reach home. "Look, I know that maybe, by the time this reaches you, it will be too late. Another ship launched, another crew lost. I just hope that maybe, by some miracle this stops someone, anyone, coming out here. The dead do not sleep easy in the void beyond Her light. I have included recordings of everything. Please, no matter how unbelievable it may seem, understand, that this is the truth."

Mor’Keth pressed the icon to send the message, and immediately authorised the transmission. The long flowing script of his people flared onto the screen, informing him of its successful sending.

The handgun felt heavy, its large handle and trigger designed for use with a vacuum suit meant it was much larger than the one Mor’Keth had trained with. He barely carried his normal sidearm these days, or at least, he didn’t before the nightmare he had endured. Some of the other crew had taken to carrying their openly again after the first sightings. They had been the first to shoot themselves.

He bounced forward with each step, the gravity had dropped significantly. The engines were well on their way to failing totally. The vacuum suit Mor’Keth had scavenged from its locker was too tight, rubbing awkwardly as he moved. It didn’t matter, the discomfort was a small price to breath should he stumble into a breached area.

The ship rocked again, metal groaning from deep inside, as if it were feeling a deep throbbing pain. That was the fourth impact Mor’Keth had been able to keep track of. Something was pelting the ship from outside, slamming against the hull. He, like the rest of his crew, had set off into space excited to experience everything they could, the first faster than light explorers of their people. Now he simply didn't want to know. Curiosity had killed them, a lesson Mor’Keth had taken to heart.

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Mor’Keth’s fingers squeezed through the small gap, wrapping around the edge of the door. He pulled, grunting as he forced the doorway open. He swallowed, sending vomit back down to where it had originated as he looked at the bloodbath beyond. Corpses floated through the corridor, the gravity finally giving out. Blood pooled in the air from gashes, entrails coiling through the air like thrashing snakes.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and gripped both sides of the door frame. He pulled, launching himself with as much force as he could muster. As Mor’Keth flew bodies bounced off his arms, raised up to screen his visor from the loose globules of gore. He grunted again as he struck the doorway at the other end, slamming against its metal. He took a moment to gather his senses and then flicked open the cover to the override.

A red light flashed back at him, a warning over the release switch. Mor’Keth knew the symbol, it had been drummed into his head at every step of his training. Danger, Vacuum beyond. Mor’keth placed his boots on the floor of the corridor, rotating himself slightly to do so, his preconceived notion of up pointless in the zero-g, but comforting none the less. He looked down at the icon in his helmets monitor, sensors within tracking the movements of his eyes. He stared at it for a second, long enough for the simple computer within the helmet to register the click. He had the sudden sensation of being pulled downwards, the magnets in his boots switching on, adhering the metal floor.

Happy he was secure, Mor’Keth pressed the release. The door slid open, easily, the motors still working, unlike the corridor's entrance. He could feel the air rushing past him, disappearing through whatever breach lay beyond. 

Something struck Mor’Keth from behind with a heavy thud. He crouched instinctively, cowering with his hands over his head as the corpse flew past. It was followed swiftly by the others, limbs and entrails colliding with his shaking body.

The barrage over, he stood up, stretching his battered body. Mor’Keth was sure it would bruise later. He turned, just to check nothing else was flying in his direction. It was then he saw it.

 At the end of the corridor, beyond the doors he had prised open, everything was black. Not just the simple black of the failing lights, but something more. An overwhelming all-encompassing black, a hole in the universe, absorbing all light it touched.

Hanging out of that infernal negative space was a pair of large hands, talons sprouting from each. They were a dark cold grey, ridges rolling along its knuckles like hydraulic pistons powering its deadly machinery. They began to crawl forward, gripping into the metal floor like a baker kneading dough. The cloud of blackness seemed to come with it, edging slowly towards Mor’Keth.

He raised his weapon and fired, light flashing from the end, shell casings silently ejecting from the side, floating slowly away with an odd sort of formality. He fired again, and again, emptying the magazine. The shadow slowed but did not stop, advancing towards him, hands lashing out from within.

Mor’Keth tried instinctively to run, jerking awkwardly as his foot refused to move. He cursed, leaning back on his heel to release the magnetic lock, before swinging his leg around again, the magnet automatically reengaging. He did the same with the other foot, coming about in a strange clockwork motion. He had been drilled, over and over in long boring sessions, using the boots until they felt natural. Now, terror was pushing that training deep down, oppressively crushing it.

“Light screw this,” Mor’Keth whispered to himself, his eyes flicking to the boot icon, disengaging the magnets. He gripped the door frame and pulled, plunging himself into the chamber beyond.

Mor’Keth floated there, motionless in the centre of the room. He had brought himself to a stop with a handhold mounted on the ceiling. That creature, that eternal nightmarish black was dragging itself into the room, clambering through the doorway. Mor’Keth didn’t care.

We had found himself in one of the ships shuttle bays. The doors had been torn off, revealing space beyond. He stared out at the image beyond. Know there and then it was hopeless.

 Through the gap in the hull, he could see a graveyard, thousands of dead ships, shards of metal collected together in a think band around the planet before him. Her Radiant Grace’s arrival had sent a ripple through the ring. Each slam against the hull, the gash before him, all were evidence of collisions with the other space-borne corpses.

The planet itself was bizarre. The surface was a dark green, almost black. Much brighter green clouds roiled on the surface, massive storms swirling around each other. It looked almost like an eye, staring directly into Mor’Keth’s soul. This planet, this place, it was despair personified, a nightmare place. He could feel it, looking at him. His people had legends, bogeymen to frighten children. They were nothing compared to the vision before it. It was anguish, fear. It was an eternal blemish on the universe. 

Mor’Keth sat there, staring back at the eye, and let the creature take him.