This is UNSC Saturn. We are the last known capital class vessel traversing these oceans.

If you can hear this, you are not alone.

Lawrence spoken to the speaker for the thousandth time. He uttered those words with such an undying

sense of hope and wonder, as if there still might be other survivors remaining in the ocean.

It's currently the 19th of September 2392. I am speaking to you from the

Communications Center aboard this vessel. We're holding 5,000 sleeping souls. All waiting for

a time we can finally resurface. If you are out there, if you are struggling, we can help.

We have food, we have cryotubes, and we have a self-sustaining biome. Please, if anyone can hear

this, respond. The last statement sounded less optimistic and more like a cry for help.

Lawrence was the last member of our crew even bothering to provide daily custom messages with

the actual date and message of hope. The rest of the crew would record a message on their first

day awake and let it play on loop as protocol dictated. But Lawrence was different.

Despite spending the past century in a stasis-wake cycle, he still believed other survivors existed

out there in the ocean. I admire what you do, you know. I said, as I watched him turn the radio off,

if you admire me so much, why don't you send out a couple of these messages? He said sarcastically.

I'm just not as outgoing as you, I joked. We sat silently in the dark halls of the

Communications Center. The lights were dimmed to save power, only turning on at full strength a few

hours a day to mimic sunlight. Though the UNSC Saturn had the nuclear power to run uninterrupted

for at least 500 years, we weren't sure that would be enough before having to refuel and refueling

meant resurfacing, a dangerous feat to say the least. Want to send Nemo out for a ride? Lawrence

asked, we're not supposed to. You know what they do if they found out. Nemo or nautical excavation

and motility operator was a half-senscient, unmanned submarine used to scan our surroundings without

...