Nights on the station are determined by which shift you’re working.  I’m lucky.  I get to work the graveyard shift, therefore nights are my days.  That means my days are quiet.  Ivanova gets all the excitement, I get the silence.  A chance to look at the stars and wonder what surprises the cosmos has waiting for us.

Standing here on the observation deck, I blink as an inky blackness descended on the vista in front of me.  Where once there had been a myriad of stars now was just darkness.  The nightmare had arrived and A SCREAM PIERCED THE NIGHT.

Susan awoke to darkness.  Not unusual, but something must’ve awakened her.  Something niggled her mind, as if calling to her.

“Lights,” she commanded.  Her room was quiet.  Sensing something, she closed her eyes, and concentrated on her inner space.  There.  In her mind.  A SILENT SCREAM of pain and terror.

Something was wrong.

Susan exited her quarters and ran towards the bridge.  Inside, shock halted her headlong rush.  Outside the window a spider-like shadow hung in the void, blocking the stars.

She instinctively knew that the heart of that shadow was a telepathic mind begging for the release of death.