“Keep it moving, grab this.” The power loader began to groan as the claws gripped the crate marked “500 units. Class 7 power relays” Ren just nodded and picked the crate up, their directive they had assumed and taken to. A simple fact, anything left is left to the void and anything else they would take with them. They already had taken several dozen other crates of various kinds from small boxes to full sized handler crates holding bulk units. Ren just was tired but carrying on and keeping on going. That was the post apocalypse. 

…

They had been left alone by station security and the whole situation was probably the exact opposite they expected. Looting. No. Loading yes, they were loading and loading in a form of disciplined order that was rag tag but efficient, steady. Hundreds of tons of cargo and materials were being moved into the docking area but there were likely many hundreds to thousands they would have to leave behind before they left. Raiding the customs area was a somewhat distraction but there were likely valuable items, drugs, medication and other valuable items hidden in those storage lockers. The whole lockers were just pulled out of the wall, locks and so where to be opened later they had time. There had been some effort to yank some safe out the wall that was too damn heavy to lift and they had to haul that hunk on a cart. 

A battered up internal truck rolled past Ren loaded with a full cargo of materials, metal, pipes, spare parts and so on. So many parts rolled out to the ship with a determined pace of the end of the world. Each step from the heavy machine was slightly unsteady but thudding metal on metal, one step after another. Ren nodded tiredly as she passed someone, the heat was massively tiring and her armour however light did not help. 

“One more night, one more day, one more morning I say.” Ren sang softly as she worked, badly singing to keep going. 

“One more day…, one more hour.”