Intro by 
With the passage of time, the omnipresent buzz of the generators - and God knows what else in the bowels of that cathedral of circuits - had become like a second skin. Funny how the white noise coming from the racks was indifferent to him and could, at the same time, launch its messages in the most modulated and subtle of languages, in a perfect symbiosis. After months, Ethan was instantly aware when something in the monotonous chanting cracked, foretelling one of the increasingly frequent system errors. He was developing a third ear in place of a third eye.
He just smiled at the thought, his gaze fixed on the secondary pylons n. 6 and 11, the last still working in the experimental orbital station DDG-31/DD-936 Decatur, renamed "The Decaf".
Silence was a mute vowel screaming inside him. Always. React to the atrophic thinking. Dodge the anguish, sharp like the debris of that day. The slashed modules were like scenic elements for a cheap movie. All the modules except his one. Follow procedures, rituals, checklists. All this to not raise his gaze and stare, right in front of him, the hangover of so much pain.
Castaway. At some point, he had renamed the pylons Romeo & Juliet. For each orbital period, about 90 minutes, the two arms were almost touching each other. A fleeting kiss and again far away. From the beginning of the mission, he had liked to play the game of renaming equipment and modules with funny nicknames. He allowed himself a slow sigh.
The inclination of the station displayed the earth down there. He had promised never to look in that direction again but the mauve colour, so iridescent, so alive, so omnipresent, took him by surprise once again. He thought for a moment that it was.. beautiful.. and the remorse for that thought flooded him soon after. Ethan hid his face between his hands as the tears surfaced and many names knocked on his heart's door once again. Inside him, a spark of curiosity wondered if it was possible to locate one of the 19 towers between the mauve nanoparticles' clouds.
“Ethan, I suggest that you sleep in 30 minutes. I detect slightly high levels of cortisol, are…”
“Thank you. I was going right now, old scrap”. He replied to the metallic yet familiar voice through the speakers.
He suddenly suffocated all those idle musings, it was time to rest. According to Querquobad, tomorrow was going to be the day.
My Ending
The day he’d been dreading all these months. The anguish, the gaping chasm he tiptoed around, hid from in procedure and normality, like the orbiting pylons - would come into undeniable view.
The placeholders he’d filled his heart with, the affection he’d savoured for the machinery that offered the vaguest companionship, could no longer compete with the vacuum of sorrow. The thin metal skin he’d hidden behind, couldn’t hold forever.
“Ethan, I’m detecting an extreme spike in cortisol levels, do you require assistance?”
Ethan steadied his breathing, forcing the slow descent of calm. Assistance wouldn’t be possible, but that was beyond the comprehension of the AI.
The slashed bank of modules behind him, spluttered and wheezed, singing in their vain attempts to come online.
“Thank you Hal, but really, I’m fine, I’m going to bed now”
The months, floating in stationary orbit above the swirl of violet petals, had lead to this.
The aftermath of that dreadful day, hung suspended around the edges of his mind, drifting in the dead space of repression, still there. Always there.
He’d given up his rage, his resentment; that had evaporated as quickly as the moisture from their skin. There was no one to blame, no one left to hold accountable. Not even Querquobad.
Ethan drifted along the corridor, pulling his weightless body to the only intact sleeping compartment.
The man who awoke, alone on The Decaf, was not the same man who had strapped into bed.
Ethan, no longer one with the station, unbuckled, pushing away from the bed, drifting to the window.
Tears ran, unrestrained down his cheeks, blurring the mauve swirl encasing the planet. Not a hint of the towers, the last of mankind, were visible through the ebb and flow. He’d never know who gave the order, who called them back into this protective shell.
The remnant of The Decaf, it’s torn limbs trailing behind it, breached the edge of the swirling planet, the blackness of space cusping the purpled aura.
The depths of the darkness held the vibrancy of pure absence. A sickening starless, yawning mouth.
It had held when they opened it.
The experimental DDG-31/DD’s had maintained a stable orbit, the pale lilac nanoparticles had acted as a barrier across the nothingness abyss.
Ethan, practically wired into the bowels of the ship, hadn’t seen what happened, but he felt it, the shockwave creaking, groaning, sparking through the hull. By the time he got to a window, all he saw was the rush of burnt mauve nanoparticles racing past.
The rest of the Decaf, torn limb from limb, was gone. The debris, scattered remains, spilt bodies, suspended in space.
His futile attempts to radio earth had been answered by Querquobad, the man who spent the last hours of his life imparting the only thing he had, knowledge.
“They’re gone, they’re all gone, sucked into… it”
Querquobad, his body, now withered in a drifting oxysuit caught in the gravity of the abomination, had dropped out of range as the earth eased away.
It had been a long 340 days, waiting for earth to bring him back into the pull of the immense chasm. Today, with the carefully maintained thrusters, the last drops of fuel he’d frantically siphoned from bleeding lines. Today, he’d go after them.
This was another really fun one to work with, the possibilities just seems to spiral as I thought about them, I had wanted to go down a deep space terrorist route, but trying to hit the points, I ended up here.
This is my entry to 
Photo Credit by Pixabay User Insspirito which I edited to change the colour pallet. This user, who's not based that far from me, has such am amazing selection of mind bending fractal imagery!