The emergency shutter seals the bay into a narrow slit of gunfire and sparks. Beyond it, the ramp lifts away, and the ship’s engines begin to swallow the night. Ben stands on the exposed side of the threshold, half-lit by warning strobes, with the last of the swarm hammering the metal wall.
The Security Officer
Hold that line, drone. If the ship clears, we all live long enough to hate this place from orbit.
The Security Officer staggers back behind the shutter edge, rifle smoking, then braces as the bay shakes harder. Cid hauls Martha and the girls farther inside, all four pressed together in the shrinking safe side of the hatch.
Cid
Ben, come on. Get inside if you can.
Rachel
We’re on board, Ben. Move when you can!
Outside, the horizon flashes white. A deep, ugly tremor rolls under the concrete, and dust fountains from the checkpoint roofline. The Murder Drone behind the shutter goes still for one beat, its damaged frame twitching as the ground begins to fail.
Ben
The planet is breaking apart.
A hotter blast washes over the bay, and the dead lights on the far towers wink out one by one. The ship rises into the smoke, carrying the Martins away from the firestorm. Ben remains at the slit, alone with the shaking floor and the growing roar beneath the world.
“The murder drones are still coming. If Ben leaves now, the ship won't make it. It will have to leave him behind. He has one last look to the Martins,and says, "it has been a great honor serving you."”
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +2)
Ben lowers the shotgun a fraction and turns back to the Martins in the shrinking strip of light. The bay trembles under their feet, but the moment holds, small and still against all that noise.
Ben
It has been a great honor serving you.
Cid
You already did, Ben. You kept us together when it mattered.
Martha
Come home to us when you can, all right? We will leave the light on.
Rachel
You’re family. That means something, even out here.
Amy
I think... I think you should hear this. We would not have made it without you.
The ship pulls farther away, and their faces shrink behind the sealing gap, but none of them look away first.
The bay shook as the ship lifted, its hull shining through smoke.
Ben
Go on. Live for me too.
Martha
We will. Because of you.
Amy
You were family, Ben.
Rachel
Always.
Cid
You held the line. We won't forget.
The hatch sealed, and the Martins rose into the gray light of escape. Ben stood at the threshold while the planet broke itself apart around him, the mission complete and the silence finally earned. Behind him, the old world ended. Ahead, their lives went on.