We had the pleasure to meet Dr. Simon Halifax, one the last surviving personnel allowed inside of section B of the Archival Database. It's been long since the vessel disappeared off the Arctic— and we want to know everything about it.

"So what's it like back then?" One member from our team asked him about the incident, "This lost ship — what's the secret behind it?"

Simon does not answer, yet in lieu, we saw him pulling open a drawer marked with the number 362, and pulled out a binder with the header "Borealis Report 1968".

"Take it," Simon hands us the file, "Back in the sixties they had documented the most they can, until—"

"Until?"

"Until they had to sacrifice." His face turned pale, "It's all yours. Read it somewhere else."

"You sure you don't mind?"

"If the public gets to know, it's worth it."

We extracted the 15-year old document from its protective cover. Along the first line typed in faded red ink:

"INTERNAL USE ONLY. DO NOT OPEN UNLESS AUTHORIZED."

We skipped the warning and flipped ahead. It began describing the scene.

The hydraulic vents shoots out air as the ship gets its first pair of turbines started.

An employee atop the main deck leaned on the iron railing on the deck in sailor attire. His name is Doug Rattmann. He stares aimlessly at the dark cavern that housed the ship. Below him, people dressed in white lab coats come and go. Some stock up the supplies, others used their clipboards to cut and record statistics. No one has time to stop to take a break. The voyage will launch in less than ten minutes.

Perhaps the only person who had time to wind down was him. He knew he won't be going home for at least a year, if the cruise had any issues, may be even longer. He daren't tell his mother that he will be away, who was gravely ill and paraplegic, and permanently asleep in her own bedroom. Without him, there will be no one to take care of her. He clutched the loose bolt he found in the supply room in deep regret, and squeezed a few drops of tears out of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he muttered, "I"ll get home soon."

Reportedly the CEO was going to be the captain of the ship. The beloved secretary was waiting nervously outside his office. The speaker next to the door in buzzed.

"Caroline," he coughed, "Come in here."

She fixed up her dress, and gently pushed the door in. The superior rose from his seat to greet her as she walked into the office.

"Good afternoon, sir." She said as the door closed itself.

"I guess you knew why you were supposed to be in here, so I'm not wasting my breath trying to repeat myself."

She nodded.

"Good."

He shuffled through the boxes of office supplies toward the back of the room. A few were shoved out of the way until he found an unmarked box, still sealed with tape. He places it on his desk.

"I can help with that."

She took the razor off of his pen stand, and sliced through the seal. She patted off the dust that had accumulated over the week from when this box was sent in, and opened up the box. Inside sat a folded-up sailor outfit wrapped in cellophane. A white torso piece lined with a turquoise collar and a single red cloth draped over the center. On its chest was a singular pocket with an Aperture insignia sewed above it.

"It's beautiful."

"'No time' is two words I have for you. I'll see you on the deck, with that outfit on."

Caroline ran across the pier. The ground's wet from the sea water sloshed on by the liner, and crowds of personnel made her duck and slide through while making her way to the edge of this vast indoor dock. Amber lighting harshly illuminated her journey.

She made it. The steel door gave way to a stall. She pulled off her dress, put on her shirt, gave the ribbon a tie, and hurriedly pulled up her skirt. A final touch would be a quick swipe of her hair back to her hairline. Then she rushed back to the office.

"I'm done… sir?" What she saw struck her in awe.

Her boss was dressed in a white suit with a matching cap. Black nylon stripes decorated the sides of his shirt and pants. His right sleeve had those same bars stop to encircle the Aperture logo. The left reinforced his position. Four wool chevron overlap the dark lines confirmed that he's a captain. His face brimmed with confidence, and, of course, a pinch of sarcasm.

It took his beloved secretary a full minute to absorb in how gallant his presence was.

Cave sighed after noticing her sudden admiration, "I get it, Sailor Caroline."

"Sorry."

"I wasn't punched in the face. Why apologize?"

He ran his hand on her collar as he eyed her top-to-bottom. "But you look adorable in this get-up! I wonder why didn't you ever tried going to work like this."

"Get in here, cute little sailor." He invites her for an embrace, "You're my first mate."

She closed her eyes as she tried to absorb his warmth. She smiled and relished his presence, being that close to her.

We can do this everyday, Captain, she thought, Everyday.

He pulled her away. He pulled up his sleeve to check the time.

"Five twenty-five," he says, "Let's go."

Caroline tugged on his arm as they both step out to where Borealis sat. They made their way through the waves of people when more than a few stopped to greet their CEO. A roped-off area near the edge of the ship awaited their arrival.

"Hello, Mr. Johnson," the staff tipped his hat, "And Miss Faraday."

She nodded.

"Right this way, sir."

He removes the stand to allow them up the staircase onto the deck. In the distance, an influx of different scientists aboard the vessel on the lower deck. Caroline silently watched in curiosity. Doug welcomed the pair.

"Sir, your loudspeaker, and your key to the room."

He slipped the key in his pocket, grabbed his mic in one hand, and his first mate in another.

"We'll come again soon."

The two descended down the stairs accompanied by loud clanks by the steps. The group had already seated on the deck, all within the windowed space supported by various metal pillars. He turns the mic on, and after a brief moment of reverb, he began.

"It's your damn captain, Cave Johnson. We will be moving with Borealis to the Arctic, and hopefully we can at least get some work and research done. Most of you will probably not be allowed to call me like this. However, she can."

Caroline waved to the audience, which around a third of them wore the identical clothing as she did.

"Her name is Caroline, and she will be my secretary throughout this long trek. You should all know what you should be doing on this ship, or you're immediately fired and thrown off this boat. Yes, I'm serious. Now get to work."

The group dispersed ad sent themselves off to their posts. A horn blares as the huge ship began to move. They went back upstairs, and as they stepped up, she tightened her grip on him.

"Alright, cute little sailor, let's get you warmed up."