In the cold, silent expanse of deep space, the towing vessel USCSS Magellan's Hope goes about its routine work: hauling cargo from one end of the system to the other. Its seven-member crew—captain, engineer, pilot, and support staff—are accustomed to the monotony of interstellar travel, the hum of reactors, and the flicker of faulty fluorescent lights. But when they are dispatched to a seemingly routine salvage coordinates, they discover something far beyond their expectations.

A derelict alien ship drifts in the void, massive and ancient, its hull scarred by unknown forces. Its architecture is organic, curved, and unsettling—nothing like human engineering. And it is broadcasting a signal. A repeating pattern. A warning? Or an invitation?

Against better judgment, a boarding party enters the alien vessel. Inside, they find a chamber filled with leathery eggs, each pulsing with inner life. When one of them opens, a creature emerges—pale, limb, terrifyingly fast—and attaches itself to a crew member's face. Within hours, something new is born. Something that hunts.

The creature stalks the Magellan's Hope, picking off the crew one by one. It moves through vents, hides in shadows, and strikes with predatory precision. The survivors fight back with whatever they can find—welding torches, plasma sidearms, sheer desperation—but the thing is relentless, intelligent, and adaptive. It learns. It evolves. It kills.

As the body count rises, the remaining crew realize they are not just fighting for their lives—they are fighting to keep a nightmare from reaching Earth. The final survivor manages to broadcast a desperate warning before the creature claims her, too.

Weeks later, the science vessel Prometheus arrives, drawn by the signal and the promise of discovery. Its crew ignores the warnings, driven by corporate ambition and scientific curiosity. They board the alien ship. They find the eggs. And they make the same fatal mistake.

The creatures spread. The Prometheus falls. But before it dies, it captures several eggs and escapes into the black, carrying the horror toward an unsuspecting humanity.

ECLIPSE is a story of isolation, terror, and the consequences of human arrogance. It explores what happens when we reach too far into the unknown and find something that reaches back. In the tradition of deep-space horror, it reminds us that in the void between stars, we are not alone—and whatever is out there is hungry.

The science vessel Prometheus dropped out of FTL three weeks later to find silence.


No signal from the Magellan's Hope. No running lights. Just a dead ship drifting in the void, its hull dark, its airlocks sealed.


And beyond it, the alien vessel, still and silent as a tomb.


Captain Orla Nilsen studied the scene from her bridge, her face carefully expressionless. Behind her, her crew waited—scientists, mostly, eager to study the first confirmed alien artifacts in human history. They didn't know about the distress call. She'd made sure of that.


"No lifesigns on the tug," her sensor officer reported. "Some residual power, but nothing active. The alien vessel is... strange. I'm reading massive internal temperature variations, as if something is generating heat in there. And there's a signal."


"Repeating pattern. Not the same as the one in the initial report. This one's different. Simpler." He played it over the speakers.


BEEP... pause... BEEP... pause... BEEP...


Three notes, repeated endlessly. Simple. Almost... peaceful.


Nilsen nodded slowly. "Prepare a boarding party. I want a full survey of both vessels. And Doctor Mercier?"


The ship's chief scientist looked up from his console. "Captain?"


"Bring your best people. I think we're about to make history."


Mercier smiled—a thin, eager expression that didn't reach his eyes. "I've been waiting my whole life for this."


The shuttles launched twenty minutes later, carrying eighteen scientists, security personnel, and specialists into the unknown.


Chapter 14 - PART TWO: THE ARRIVAL