Arthur, suited, floats outside the shuttle — a speck of humanity against the void.
He adjusts a gate’s control panel, tools clicking softly in the vacuum.
Inside, Thomas stands at the comms.
“Okay, Arthur — that’s got it.”
Arthur nods to himself.
“I’m coming back in.”
He reenters the shuttle. Anna watches him, worry written across her face.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Thomas looks concerned too, fingers brushing Anna’s hand.
“It might put more heat on us than before.”
Arthur turns to both of them.
“More heat than when they kidnapped you and tortured you?”
He steps closer, voice rising.
“They tortured Sarah.”
He breathes once, steadying the anger.
“The truth is… this warning?” He shakes his head. “They’re getting off lucky. They need to know we won’t put up with it anymore.”
“He’s right,” Sarah says. “And there won’t be a better time to prove it.”
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Arthur moves to a console and taps a series of commands.
News feeds across the galaxy flicker — then collapse into static.
—
ON SCREEN — NEWS FEED
The frame glitches.
Arthur’s face fills the galaxy.
No studio.
No editing.
No spin.
No misunderstandings.
“My name is Arthur Hammond, and despite reports to the contrary, I destroyed the Tribunal yesterday.”
“I didn’t do this lightly. But it was an easy decision.”
“The Tribunal destroyed my home.”
“They kidnapped my wife and my brother.”
“Tortured them.”
He pauses.
Calm.
Cold.
Certain.
“Until now, my family and I have tolerated these constant attacks on our lives.”
“Take this warning seriously.”
“No more.”
“If you see my name in a file, in a report, or hear it in a whisper — and your boss tells you to look for me — resign.”
“Tell your boss they can do it themselves.”
“Your life is worth more than a few credits.”
He leans back slightly.
“This is the only warning I will give: stay away from me and my family.”
The transmission cuts.
Normal programming resumes.
—
INT. GOVERNMENT OFFICE — UNKNOWN PLANET
Crosanda stares at the screen, pale.
“Brenz — I’m quitting.”
Brenz rolls her eyes, tying her hair into a neat bow.
“Why? You’re going to let that message scare you?”
“You’re damn right I’m scared!” Crosanda snaps.
“They destroyed the Tribunal. The Tribunal. An entire government organization.”
She grabs her coat.
“We’re six people in a windowless office taking orders from who knows where. I’m not doing this.”
She walks out.
Across dozens of offices — people stand, pack their things, and walk away in stunned, quiet defiance.
—
ON SCREEN — NEWS FEED
CONFEDERATE BROADCAST:
“...thousands resigning after the Tribunal’s fall.”
Channel flips.
Crowds fill the streets — some cheering, others terrified.
Channel flips again.
“Unknown warship Anubis confirmed destroyed.”
—
EXT. MOUNTAIN TRAIL — DAY
The family hikes along a sunlit ridge.
Wind carries the faint cry of distant birds.
Sarah sits on a smooth rock, watching Arthur and the others ahead.
“Do you think it’s actually going to get better?”
Arthur exhales slowly.
“Maybe. There’s chatter.”
“I gave myself the highest clearance levels,” he adds, smiling faintly.
“If something happens, we’ll know.”
Ahead, Anna and Thomas walk hand in hand.
Arthur catches up.
“The Solace II is ready,” Anna says. “Delivery next week. I’m excited to see how she turned out.”
The sound of a violin drifts through the air — soft, nostalgic, familiar.
They keep walking — a small, fragile family moving forward.
—
SOMEWHERE…
A faint radio hiss.
“Yes, ma’am. We tracked the security code.”
“…No.”
“No, ma’am — I don’t believe it was an accident.”
A pause.
“Yes, ma’am. Consider it done.”
A soft electronic pulse.
Signal distortion.
Static swallowing the words.
A dark room.
A figure stands before an old monitor — watching Arthur’s broadcast replay.
Arthur’s face flickers in cold, unblinking eyes.
End
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