A voice crackles through the speaker, audible even over the clanking ringing through the metal hull.
"Alright, let's see… This is your last chance to say something's missing in there before you get dropped in, Convict. Food, water, medical supplies, you know?"
The man sat in the command seat simply stares at the speaker, head tilted slightly. Idly, he scratches at his neck, a gentle clinking coming from the metal ring on his collar as he does so.
"Hello? Are you reading me? Damn it… Can someone come over here and confirm that the sound systems were tested in this thing?"
"I'm not getting any response from the sub, I thought that this one was supposed to be better than the rest of the fleet? Convict, if you can hear me-"
"That's where you're going wrong. You're supposed to use his name."
"Look, I get that you weren't here during the last dive, and you can feel whatever you want towards murderers, but we use names for people around here. No matter if they're Captain or Convict. Besides, you really think The Hound will answer you if you're trying to prove you're better than him? You're lucky he's in there and you're out here, otherwise he'll be biting your throat out."
Standing, the man, The Hound, steps slowly towards the speaker, orange light glinting off the metal mesh of the muzzle strapped over his face.
"Shut up, man, that's just a rumor."
"The pictures are in his case file– don't tell me you haven't even read it?!"
"What's the point? We all know he's either gonna die down there or get wounded horribly, just like the rest of the—"
The Hound speaks, low, rumbling. Judging by the way the two people on the other side of the speaker yelp, he must have spoken close to the microphone. Good to know.
"Christ, okay, we hear you in there."
"And he's supposed to stay alive, dumbass. That's what the prior tests of this sub were for. Technically, he's on loan to us as a navigator and explorer."
"On loan?! This is ridiculous…"
"At least pretend to play along. Come on, we don't have all day for final checks, we need to be on schedule for this."
"Alright, alright… Uhh, Axel, have you checked your supplies? Food, water, medical, tools, extra oxygen tanks?"
"Yes. Strapped down in storage."
Going back to the seat, Axel instead chooses to sit on the floor, crossing his legs around the central stand of the chair for stability. Prepared for the sub to drop as soon as the rumbling outside the metal walls ceases.
"I'm sure you've already heard it a thousand times, but I need to recount the objectives of your first mission. You're to navigate towards the Blood Maple, then to the coordinates marked down on your map. Take pictures in every location, and of anything else of interest you find down there. When you're done, make your way to the station marked down for resupply and your next mission."
Laying back, Axel hooks his hands under the sturdy connection points of the pipes running along the base of the wall. That should minimize the amount of damage taken from being dropped at such a height without anything to strap the occupant down. Even in the specialized sub designed for multiple dives without loss of life, the C.O.I. still try to make it all work with as little resources spent as possible.
"Engaging launch procedure. Good luck."
Axel tenses, eyes closing. SM-14 drops, and the world falls away with it.
Only when the submarine stills does Axel take a breath, carefully unwrapping himself from his anchor points. The vessel hums softly around him, blissfully quiet. Standing, he stretches, folded arms almost grazing the roof. Then, he sits, pulls out the map, tracks down his location, and starts the SM-14 on it's way.
An hour passes, and the speaker once again crackles into life. But something is different. Something… is off. Through static, voices struggle to come through. Axel stops and stares at the speaker, watching the little orange light flicker on and off. Slowly, he rises to his feet, gaze never leaving the feeble light.
