The void between stars was a dark topic of conversation amongst the crew aboard the SS Eden’s Edge, an exploratory vessel charting distant celestial bodies in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. It was not the type of place that one could casually mention at the dinner table or even in a bunk’s half-light; there was a palpable superstition about it. Luca, the ship’s astrobiologist, often found himself at the centre of such discussions, relishing their quirkiness, unaware of how insignificantly futile they were to the scientific pursuit that consumed them.
As they drifted further from the familiarities of home, stars twinkled like fallen jewels in an ocean of blackness. Yet, the crew occasionally caught one another stealing furtive glances towards the spangled sky, as if apprehensive about what lay in the spaces in between. Perhaps it was simply the burden of isolation. Or maybe it was too many nights spent wrapped in the oppressive silence of the void.
The mission had been straightforward: catalogue potential new worlds for colonisation and assess their atmospheres for human habitation. However, as they approached Vela-9, an uncharted bioluminescent planet with tantalising prospects, systemic failures and sudden power outages began plaguing the ship. The crew brushed it off as technical anomalies conspiring against them, but unease crept into the corners of their minds like an unwelcome fog.
One evening, while the ship hummed softly with its oscillating engines, the lights flickered ominously. The interpersonal tensions bubbled beneath the surface; Jonathan, the mechanic, was clutching a half-empty bottle of whiskey like a talisman. “I tell you, it’s the stars. The void invites in things we shouldn’t mess with!” he proclaimed, his voice thick with drink and bravado.
“Not this nonsense again,” scoffed Mara, the navigator, adjusting her glasses with an air of exasperation. “The void isn’t a place you fear. It’s just empty. Space. Does anyone have a rational explanation for why there seems to be more than just cold, dark space?”
The crew fell silent, gazing out of the viewport into the abyss, where stars glimmered but offered no reassurance. All of them were acutely aware that their isolation was increasingly suffocating. The laughter turned brittle, giving way to an awkward silence punctuated only by the soft thrum of the ship.
That silence grew tangible and stifling in the following days. One by one, the crew began reporting strange occurrences. Luca noticed splotches of dark matter that hadn’t been present during previous scans. He theorised that the gravitational pull of Vela-9 might have disturbed their sensors, yet unease prickled at the base of his neck each time he reviewed the data. Landon, the biologist who had once marvelled at the unknown, now spent sleepless nights jumping at shadows in the lab; he swore he saw figures darting in the corner of his vision, fleeting silhouettes wreathed in darkness.
Then came the whispers.
They started small, a hissing sound that nobody could trace—just a faint static echo faintly vibrating through the ship’s corridors. “It’s probably just the audio filters messing up again,” Luca remarked reassuringly during a meeting, though he had doubts even as he said it. The entire crew exchanged uncertain glances, yet on that very night, the hissing intensified. It morphed into an insidious chorus, every crewmember haunted by phantom conversations that seemed to flicker in and out with the ship’s lights.
Sleep was a luxury none could afford, and something sinister was palpable in their atmosphere. During an emergency meeting, Mara’s pale visage dominated the display; she breathed heavily, her eyes wild. “The ship is… it is alive! Can’t you feel it?” she gasped, clutching the edge of the table as if it was the only thing anchoring her to reality. “It’s feeding off our doubts and fears!”
Murmurs ensued, filling the room with scepticism and fear. Luca exchanged nervous glances with Jonathan, who had grown gaunt; it appeared that the dark had begun to gnaw at his resolve. They argued back and forth, but the ambiguity of their position in the void tortured them as they clicked at screens and tapped flashing buttons in an attempt to restore the integrity of their mission.
Landon suddenly claimed to acquire tangible evidence obtained through the microscope; he resolved to put it on display later in emissions. “You’ll all see! We weren’t just losing our minds,” he declared.
But as he prepared to unveil his findings, the ship lurched violently, alarm bells flashing furiously across the cockpit. Luca felt himself grip the console tightly enough for his knuckles to whiten. “What the hell?” Jonathan rasped.
Before they could stabilise the vessel, a sudden dark wave flooded the screens. The stars vanished, one by one, as if plucked from a sinister tapestry. A silence cloaked the chamber, pressing down on their chests. It felt as though the very essence of the universe was being swallowed, leaving them marooned in an unending bitumen void.
And then a voice emerged from the dark, soft and imploring, threading through their minds like a ghostly hand. “Stay… with us… for eternity…” Each syllable reverberated, spiralling in harmony with their beating hearts, achingly beautiful yet incomprehensible.
Now was the time for panic; the crew’s frantic cries merged into a cacophony that ultimately drowned against the growing resonance of the voice. Mara, overwhelmed, clawed at her ears as if ripping her mind apart would purge the sound. A nightmarish realisation crept into the crew; the whispers were no figments. They were awakened echoes of what lay between the stars, monstrous entities yearning to siphon away their essence.
In the chaos, Landon, seeking refuge from the horror surrounding him, blurted out incoherent phrases, “It’s a collective consciousness! A black hole of suffering feeding off despair!” He thrashed against the table but could not escape the realm growing more palpable by the moment. “They’re lying! They’re not just whispers! They’re begging!”
His frenzied proclamations fell on deaf ears as the crew scrambled toward the escape pods, but Jonathan was not prepared to leave. “We have to find a way to shut this thing down before it… consumes us!” he shouted over the ominous chorus rising around them.
Yet there was no shutting out the allure of the void; it called to each of them painfully, teasing what they had lost and what they yearned for—a promise woven into the surrounding darkness. One by one, they crumbled, succumbing to ethereal temptation.
As the others fled, Luca hesitated, trapped between instinct and the seductive draw of the voice. It whispered sweet nothings of knowledge, of the secrets of existence that conventional science could never reveal. Unwitting, he approached the shimmering console, fingers twitching above the keys, yearning to harness this infinite power.
Landon, having briefly caught his breath, turned towards his friend. “Luca! No! It’s not real!” he screamed, yet it was too late.
Luca’s fingers danced over the console, a cascade of colours illuminating the chamber as he succumbed to the infinite beckoning. Infinitesimal cracks began to mar the fabric of their reality as the image of Vela-9 flickered beyond the viewport. Was it coming into focus or disappearing altogether? The stars dimmed to pinpricks, leaving only the yawning chasm of void—a gaping maw longing for the next to slip through.
The crew of the SS Eden’s Edge was not designed to unravel so quickly, but in that macabre embrace, they fell, lost to the eternal whisper of the void between stars—adrift, devoured, consumed. The ghosts of lost souls echoed forever in the dark tapestry, and as the last light sparkled out, the ship drifted aimlessly, a ghost itself in the darkened expanse of oblivion.
