[ WP ] A ship of one-thousand humans discovers the exact center of the universe . Explain what they see and what happens now .

The New Earth Republic's last ship, `` Hope'', dropped out of FTL travel with a mighty burst of light, brighter than any of the far away stars. It had been hurtling toward it's final destination for nigh on 600 years. It had been sent on its last journey, towards its final destination, it was mankind's last hope. With buzzing efficiency the ship had begun to awaken its sleeping occupants from their cold slumber. One by one they thawed as counted every second of the process, cataloguing each success and each failure. The machine intelligence annoucned each second, each ticking of its own internal clock the speakers. Not because it had been tasked or programed to, but because it felt that the occasion deserved all the decorum it could grant, even if at first no-one had been there to witness it. 
 
 ``... THREE, TWO, ONE, FAILURE,'' the machine paused as if in mourning only to continue somewhat more mechanically, `` SUBJECT # 42: RECYCLING, # 43: PROCEEDING WITH THAWING, 300, 299, 298, 297...'' 
 
 Occupant # 23, one Dr. Finkleberg, stood in the viewing gallery gazing at the stars, his silhouette only visible as a shadow blocking some stars from view. The door opened quietly, betrayed only the the slight hiss of equalising pressure, and quickly closed again behind the newcomer, Occupant # 37. 
 
 `` It's so vast, still,'' said Occupant # 23. 
 
 `` They're all gone. It's all gone. It just does n't know it yet.'' 
 
 `` There's so few of us left. Dozens! Perhaps. There's dozens of us.'' 
 
 `` There's nothing here.'' said Occupant # 37, pressing his hands against the window and peering out. 
 
 ``... 3, 2, 1, FAILURE. SUBJECT # 43: RECYCLING...'' 
 
 `` Another one of us gone. Another part of our hope. Dead.'' Occupant # 23 stifled a sob. 
 
 `` It's hopeless.'' Occupant # 37 finally agreed. 
 
 `` 236, 235... Please do not lose hope,'' the machine chimed in, interrupting it's somber countdown, `` we are afterall the Last. 230, 229...'' 
 
 Occupant # 23 was lying on the floor staring at the dark ceiling when Occupant # 37 answered from his new resting spot against the wall facing the window. 
 
 `` The last what?'' 
 
 ``... 197, 196... Just `` The Last''. You know. The last humans. The last Lifeforms. We are the last sentience. We are the last hope. The last Everything. 178, 177...'' 
 
 `` What about the Nexus? It's not here.'' 
 
 ``... 172... We are in approach to target. We will reach ZERO momentum at target in approx. 343 days 16 hours 33 Minutes 22 Seconds. 151...'' 
 
 `` Want to get some food? Do you play chess? Might as well,'' Occupant # 37 paused, `` I'm going to, anyway.'' 
 
 Occupant # 23 blinked, suprised at the broken non-silence. `` Uh... sure.'' 
 
 `` I'm Charles,'' said occupant # 37, offering his hand to help # 23 get up. 
 
 `` Edmund.'' said Occupant # 23, accepting the help. 
 
 `` Computer, where's the canteen?'' 
 
 ``... 31... out of the viewing gallery and into the starboard elevator, the port elevator is out of order. I'll drop you off at the canteen,'' the machine paused, `` and, please, call me Ralph.''
