Eyes in the Void

The first astronauts to leave the Sol system hundreds of years ago said that they felt mixed emotions as they sailed beyond the boundries of the Oort cloud, off into the inky black realm of extra-solar space. To leave behind the cradle of civilization, not knowing what they were bound to encounter out in the countless stars of the galaxy. At first it's determination, saying farewell to the scientists who designed the machine the machine they strapped themselves into, knowing the signal delay would mean their words would be heard long after the had crossed the border of the system. Then it's pride, in humanity, in the collective action of the nations who put them in the position to drive the edges of humanity further. Boredom sets in later, as there's not much to look at in the darkness surrounding the vessel as it plunges headfirst into the void. But eventually, the fear sets in.
The Somnambulist was built to push humanity beyond the edge of the solar system into the realm of extra-solar space. Advancements in ship drive technology allowed it to reach a fraction of the speed of light, enabling augmented humans to make the trip while remaining conscious, using powerful scientific instruments to get a closer look at various systems, paving the way for humanity to colonize the stars. Once they arrived, the crew was to send the ship reactor into a final overdrive, sending a laser-comm across the void back home to inform humanity that the way was open, and a new beachhead had been established. 20 minds, the finest humanity had to offer, strapped with the best augments money could buy, riding in the culmination of mankind's innovations over centuries, soaring through the night, away from home. Away from safety, into the unknown.
The mind does not like it when there's an absence of stimulation. Something is out there, in that darkness, says the brain, unable to cope with the absence of anything to look at. At first, the scientists back in Sol dismissed the reports from the ship as simply side effects of high energy particles outside the protecting influence of the heliosphere. Over 2 days of signal delay meant that conversations between command and the ship could take a long time. Medical professionals assumed the cosmic rays hitting the vessel were just causing stress, and the boredom of sitting in a metal tube hurtling through the empty space between systems gave time to ruminate on that stress. The crew's contacts home became increasingly erratic. They knew something was watching them. They started claiming to see eyes in the blackness. Only for fleeting moments, disappearing as soon as the crew made eye contact. Nothing on the sensors, but they knew. Something was out there, observing.
As they travelled further into the space between systems, comm connections with home became more and more sparse. After the delay grew to over a week of waiting between messages, the ship's reactor systems were unable to muster enough power to operate systems and also send messages. Contact between command and the Somnambulist was severed after T+18 months, 6 days, and 13 hours. A glass was raised back home for the courageous astronauts who were out in the void advancing the cause of humanity. Completely unaware of what the toast-ees were going through. Back on the ship, those things were watching. The crew started with attempting to take pictures of the creatures in the dark. It didn't work. Numerous pictures of the darkness, framed by a ship windows, no eyes in the void to be seen. The crew resorted to more drastic measures. Taking bedsheets, clothing, any fabric they could find, and covering the windows, taping up their makeshift curtains over any possible view into the ship. The brightest minds in human history, covering their eyes and pretending that if they couldn't see it, it would not see them.
Then it started speaking. The crew began to hear each other talking when they were alone. The audio logs caught crew members having full, whispered conversations with others that were not there. At first it was innocuous, asking about system status, the progress of onboard experiments, what flavour of meal package they intended to have for their next scheduled meal. Then it grew more sinister. Asking about the state of the safety systems for the reactors, life support systems, pressure vessel integrity. Who was handling the mission the best, who was handling it the worst.
"Take the curtains off?! It's going to see us, Porter! It's still out there!"
"---"
"I know it hasn't done anything yet, but it's creeping me out! I feel like I can see it when I'm sleeping!" "---" "Kill the lights? I don't know, might work. What if that's what it wants?" "---" "We should talk to the others, see what they think." Dr. James Porter was in the crew quarters sleeping according to crew schedules when Chief Engineer Terence Marstock had this 'conversation' with him. Porter's digital diary recalled that Marstock called the crew together for a proposal, and had asked Porter to share his plan with the rest of the crew. Porter recalled no such plan, and furthermore, condemned such an action. Suspicions between crew members on the Somnambulist grew further, as crews reported having full conversations with others that were not there, sometimes 'including' multiple crew members in these conversations.
The traps started next. At T+19 months, 4 days, and 8 hours, Chemistry Head Sarah Broadbrook retrieved an EVA tether from the prep locker, and had it strung across the crew quarter entrance, snagging pilot Teresa Entoras across the face. Autodoc logs state she was treated for a lacerated cornea, suggesting she sustained the injury in the process. Broadbrook stated that she didn't want to 'get jumped' while she was sleeping, after she found a threatening note left in her bunk accusing her of appropriating chemicals earmarked for biology experiments to use in the fabrication of sleeping drugs. Signals Officer Elazar Cortezzo lost 2 fingers due to an apparent pressure bulkhead door malfunction, and accused Marstock of sabotaging the emergency atmosphere protection system to intentionally close on them. The autodoc was unable to salvage the crushed digits, and the crew had to resort to fabrication of a prosthetic using the onboard fab-lab.
At T+19 months, 29 days, and 19 hours, sensor technican Quincy Barson appeared to suffer a psychotic break, and in a frenzy, went throughout the ship, ripping down all the makeshift curtains from the windows. Eventually, 3 other crew members managed to subdue Barson, securing him to one of the ship's racks in the crew quarters, and kept a rotating guard of him for 72 hours. He remained cooperative during those 72 hours, mumbling about 'just let it in, it's gonna get in eventually.' The crew agreed to keep Barson under supervision whenever he was to be about, until he had fully recovered from the incident. 3 months and 12 days later, disaster struck. An unintended heat spike in the reactor, suspected to be caused by amalgamated fuel pellets triggering an overenergetic burst. This burst melted a control spike on the 32-15 panel, triggering an emergency reactor SCRAM. This shunted the Somnambulist onto the emergency power bus, leaving it with 6 hours of backup power before the craft was dead in the water. Chief Engineer Marstock ordered reactor technician Jamie Mitahara to peform the required EVA to remove and replace the broken control spike.
Jamie had been a reactor technician for 15 years before being selected to join the mission. Indeed, he had pioneered the exact reactor design used on the Somnambulist, having developed it from existing racing craft reactors for increased efficency and scale, allowing the craft to travel at 0.32c at top speed. This was intended to reach their target, Proxima B, in less than 20 years. The design of the reactor did not permit maintenance without EVA activities, due to the immense amounts of shielding that would be required to protect the crew. It was suspended via a lightweight structure system 125 meters away from the pressure vessel, and to traverse to it would require exiting the airlock and performing a spacewalk to the damaged spike. Short range comm logs report Jamie having a conversation with Marstock during the EVA, discussing the procedure to un-SCRAM the reactor once the part was replaced. Marstock, however, was nowhere near the comm systems during the maintenance, instead monitoring the fuel managment system. The reactor system logs reported serviceable diagnostics 2 hours and 28 minutes after the initial shutdown.
"Marstock, job's done. Just let me get back inside and you can begin the startup."
(No response)
"Marstock, it's fixed, I'm coming back in."
(Still no response)
"Marstock... you there? It's Jamie, the reactor is fixed."
"Getout-getout-getout-getout,"
"Very funny Marstock, I'm coming back in. Just don't boot the reactor until I'm in the door." Jamie never made it back in the door. At T+23 Months, 10 days, and 22 hours, the reactor startup sequence completed, and the Somnambulist lurched forward. Not intended to sustain the multiple G acceleration of the vessel, Jamie's EVA tether snapped. According to the diagnostics recorded on the ship computers, a rapid spike in suit temperature likely indicated Mitahara was caught in the drive plume and incinerated.
The crew of the ship gave Jamie an in-situ funeral, lamenting the sudden unscheudled reactor power-up taking his life in such a dramatic way. In the following weeks, members of the crew reported hearing Jamie speaking with them, telling them that the reactor was going to fail again, and they needed to shut it down to prevent it from going supercritical and destroying the whole ship. At first, these warnings were dismissed by the crew, just the stress of losing a good friend in a terrible accident. The morbid distraction almost made them forget about the thing that was watching them, just outside the ship, lurking. Doubts were raised about Chief Marstock, and why they were unable to stop the reactor from booting up. These doubts grew to suspicion, questioning whether the chief was actively sabotaging the mission.
'Did Jamie do something to you?'
'Did you want to get rid of him?'
'Were you the one who broke the reactor?'
Something pushed Marstock over the edge. Over the next 4 days, he kept to himself, avoided talking to anyone else in the crew whenever possible. Whispering to himself. They were out to get him of course. That thing outside was doing this to them. They were going to hurt him. They were going to kill him. He had to do something.
T+23:17:03:25;
EVA pressure suit checked out of locker 02, authorization CE Terence Marstock
T+23:17:03:47;
Pressure recovery valve in interior airlock door failed open
T+23:17:03:51;
Exterior airlock door opened for EVA, authorization CE Terrence Marstock
T+23:17:03:52;
Total shipwide pressurization failure, emergency lockdown protocols initiated
Over the next 37 minutes, various bulkhead failure warnings are recorded in the ship computer. One by one, metabolic reporting sensors recorded 18 crew fatalities. After an additional 14 minutes, all reactor power was directed to the long ranger laser-comm antenna, and a message was set to broadcast on loop.
"Do not come out here. The eyes are watching"
At T+23 Months, 17 days, 4 hours, 49 minutes, a final emergency alert is recorded in the ship computer:
Suit pressurization failure: EVA suit 02
A blocking script was placed in the computer code, triggered by the emergency alert. No further logs were recorded. What remains of the logs were recovered from the Somnambulist in the year 2652, in a high parking orbit over Proxima B. The ship remains quarantined under UC control, and these logs are not to be publicized under authority of the Society for Psychosomatic Security. Any access requests must go through the SPsS office, and are not permitted to be accessed without supervision.