[ His noble sacrifice is not in vain! Rita escaped, and the door isn't exactly trying to wrench itself out of his grip, which has to be good. Maybe it really was a draft? Flynn inches around it, waiting until she's well and properly in the hallway before making a (controlled) break for it himself.

The door hangs there, innocuous.

Another tray flings itself onto the ground with a clatter, and Flynn shoves the door closed all at once, trying to calm his hammering heart. ]

Well.

[ A beat, into the tense silence. Flynn swallows. ]

This is, I think, an even more clear sign that we need to get off this ship. I don't suppose you've been able to figure out why we're here and how we got here? Or, more importantly, how we leave?