Benja stared up at the sky, now discolored into a sickly orange from all the smoke and explosions.
Everyone had been warned to stay aboard in case they had to make a fast getaway, but the cargo bay stood open and the ramp was down, so Paras went for a walk.
She didn't go far. Just to the edge of the outcropping. She stood there and looked out over the burning landscape.
Benja headed down the ramp, intending to talk her back onto the ship, but he stopped halfway down. The apocalypse was, for all its horrors, stunning to behold. It literally stunned him.
He scanned the skies for some clear enemy causing all this destruction, but saw only local aircraft dog-fighting in whirling loops and screaming barrel rolls. All of the fighters had the same markings, so it was impossible to tell which side any of them were on.
Benja wondered how they could possibly know whether they were firing on friends of foes.
A voice behind him said, "Right, that's enough o' that."
Benja turned.