"If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended." The voice reciting that famous closing monologue was the only noise that could be heard, echoing all around the lifeless ruins.
Lifeless, save two figures standing side by side, the hairs on their arms barely touching, looking over what had once been their home. The war was not so long ago that they still could hear the shouts and screams and gunshots ringing in their ears, and the ghosts of those they had once known could be seen in the corner of their eyes, still roaming the desolate streets.
"You guys seem pretty versed in Shakespeare; I remember seeing a Midsummer Night's Dream at the Antigone when I was younger, I looked up the script because I liked it so much, I wanted to know how it ended," he explained over the soft whistle of wind that wound its way around the destroyed or otherwise abandoned buildings. The theatre itself had burnt to the ground, the Governor's School had been exploded by the rebel forces, and the Capitol Building had been flooded when the skies had cried over the damage done over... well, no one could really remember what they had been fighting for anyway.
"The rescue ship's been refueled, they're boarding the survivors." He took a step forward, approaching to stand behind the two, and stopped there to let out a humorless chuckle. "Our numbers are much less than they expected, so there's plenty of room." He paused again, waiting for some reaction from either figure. There was none, of course; both had long since held suspicion the once great Empire had been working on reestablishing contact with Earth. Not to mention the news of space travel breakthroughs they had gotten from those they had kidnapped from the Carmello all those years ago.
The newcomer just shook his head, and as he walked away he said a passing thought back over his shoulder, to them and to himself: "It's time to stop running."
The two stood like statues as Captain Zeke Epsilon walked away, as if nothing in the world existed but each other. The man didn't so much as look at the woman when he finally spoke his thoughts.
"Is this sensible?"
Deborah turned to Stephen in response, taking his hand and catching his eye with a smile. "I really, really hope not."
No more shall ye behold such sights of woe,
Deeds I have suffered and myself have wrought;
Henceforward quenched in darkness shall ye see
Those ye should ne'er have seen; now blind to those
Whom, when I saw, I vainly yearned to know.