driftfleet | this is dr. death defying signing off

[Metal and pipes echo hollowly through the empty ship. The Paisley, after more than a year of service, floats along without anyone to poke at her innards or bang pots in her kitchen or destroy the blender. A terrible fate indeed. The ship wanders on its own, slowly but surely moving to pass by the Marsiva to circle around the rest of the nearby solar bodies.

Those who happen to be at their communicator consoles will notice a sudden sharp uptick in energy, some kind of invisible wave that sets out from the Marsiva itself. The type of energy is impossible to define; the instruments scramble for a minute or two. It's not unlike the effect a massive solar storm has on electronic devices. Personal communicators may also be affected by this.

But windows still work, and all the other ships have a clear view of what happens next.

As the Paisley wanders within range, the Marsiva in all its awkward rounded glory splits vertically. It's less like a mouth or a hinged jaw and more like a void. There are the tiniest hints of stars if you look closely, but stare too long and you'll be overcome with a sudden and completely irrational fear of the darkness and/or falling. It opens wide, its size dwarfing the small ship like Earth meeting a gaseous giant, and then--

-- the Paisley is gone.

The Marsiva resumes its normal shape. A deep vibration knocks the consoles back online, like the belch of a universe.]