Void Scavenger

Picture a long, finned fish of the void whose head is mostly one enormous, humanlike eye above a broad, gaping mouth; the eye shines whenever the creature is awake. Fin counts vary by origin, but color and habits divide them into four kinds: gray, brown, night and deep-void scavengers. Small ones merely steal air, while the big ones go looking for dinner.

Most are idle drifters that ride in the air envelope of ships, asteroids and large creatures, hanging along the gravity plane at the trailing edge and living on refuse. Packs follow a vessel until something better appears or they are driven away. Great asteroid ports keep standing crews of exterminators, often manned by the captains who carried the pests in. In deep space a scavenger can switch its body off, going without air or food for ages until it drifts into a ship or world. Big planets are avoided as too much effort, but they turn up in every known crystal shell and in the flame-sea. Being barely more than a gullet with a brain to steer it, each kind fights as noted below.

Smallest and least dangerous, grays swarm in large packs, each one using and fouling air like an extra sailor. An armed party can usually shoo them off. Their meat is dull but nourishing on long trips.

Gold to rusty umber, browns are bigger but hardly smarter. They flee when challenged and sneak back later. A natural 19 or 20 on its bite swallows a man-sized creature, or two smaller ones, and the gullet poison kills in three rounds unless the victim saves vs. poison. A survivor can hack at it from inside with an edged weapon shorter than 3 feet; after 1-6 such damage the scavenger spits him out, then foolishly tries to gulp him again. One unarmed mage burst free by drinking a potion of growth.

Once daily a brown can spit a puff of poison at one target ahead of it; the save gains +3 out here, but failure still means death in three rounds. Browns resist their own venom, not other kinds'. Their tainted flesh baits grays, which always eat it and die, while most other void life shuns it. Eastern dragonship crews insist a well-cooked brown is fine fare, and one captain claims to have served it to his emperor, who supposedly kept priests ready with poison-curing spells before the captain was hustled back to space.

Black dappled with white, it melts into the starfield. This omnivore creeps aboard during night watches to forage and will not budge once settled, even against greater force, though it shuns crowded decks. Its belly often holds swallowed valuables: roll 1d12 for a treasure type J through U, plus a 1% chance of one magic item. It swallows man-sized prey on 19-20 but has no poison; if a swallowed victim hurts it (interior AC 7), it brings him up to chew (one attack at +4) and swallows again. Sailors find them delicious, roast them on deck to celebrate planetfall, and count one as good luck at voyage's end.

Jet black save for the eye, this solitary man-eater skips the scraps and goes for the cook. It hides a lair aboard, raids the crew like a larder, smashes through doors and hatches, and will strip a ship bare. It swallows creatures up to large size on 18-20, carries brown-type gullet poison it cannot spray, and has an interior of AC 5 that small blades can cut through. Its senses are keen enough to attack invisible foes without penalty. It drives off other scavengers, attacks any kind, and kills browns without eating them. Tales speak of gargantuan specimens ripping open whole ships.