Silence. That was the theme of the empty space between celestial bodies, a space sometimes truly empty, save from the drifting dust charged with enough kinetic energy to be silent killers, or sometimes filled with debris of all sizes.
Silence was not a choice for the dark, sometimes illuminated space, only, it was too wide, too empty, with nought but lifelessness to accompany it. Silence had become its feature, its tint, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, crushing. And amidst that silence that came back in the parts around the planet that had been left lifeless by a ruthless harvesting, there was no whole thing around anymore, not the fleet that had jumped over, not its spaceships, big or small, nor its crew, and even less the moon that had been grey and unfortunate.
