Spaceman, it is too late. You will never find your way home again. You are dead men on a ghost ship, and you will fall forever into the Night.
"I saw him, Wong, I saw him down in Section Three, tall and thin and black. He laughed at me, and then there wasn't anything there."
Sound of great wings beating somewhere outside the hull.
Mother, can I have him? Can I have his skull to play with?
Not yet, child. Soon. Soon.
Wicked rain of laughter and the sound of clawed feet running.
No one went alone. Spacemen First Class Gottfried and Martinez went down a starboard companionway and saw the hooded black form waiting for them. Gottfried pulled out his blaster and fired. The ravening beam sprang backward and consumed him. Martinez lay mumbling in psychobay.
The lights went out. After an hour they flickered back on again, but men had rioted and killed each other in the dark.
Commander Jansky recalled all personal weapons on the grounds that the crew could no longer be trusted with them. The men drew up a petition to get them back. When it was refused, there was muttering of revolt.
Spacemen, you have wandered too far. You have wandered beyond the edge of creation, and now there is only death.