The Derelict (Flint Hawke)
|The Derelict (Flint Hawke)|
|Date of Cutscene:||04 June 2014|
|Location:||Unknown Space Station|
|Synopsis:||The Black Sun's crew comes to a decision. Flint Hawk experiences the first side effects of his Pure|
|Cast of Characters:||320|
|Tinyplot:||When They Return|
"We're sorry, Cap'n, but after the attack last night, the crew decided to take the ship in a new direction."
Flint Hawke sits in front of a vid screen in an escape pod, his hands in his pockets as he looks at the screen blandly, "Oh have you? And tell me which direction that is, so I can come retrieve my vessel."
"Well the thing is that... the direction be 'away from you', sir," says the drabby looking man on the other end of the line. The crewman scratched the back of his head as he looked around awkwardly, Flint giving him an even-tempered stare through the screen, "Yer bad luck. We're takin' the ship and goin' our own way."
"I see. While I certainly applaud your initiative, I am afraid that you have left me dismayed at the turn of events. May I say goodbye to my crew?" Flint asks with a faint sigh, running his fingers through his own hair. The man nods and Flint says, "Captain Override Code 322."
The man looks surprised as Flint's next words are heard echoing throughout the ship in the background of the call, "Attention crew. The code to the loot vault is 342-667-9195. That is all."
Flint smiles to the man, "Enjoy your new ship." He taps a finger on the screen to end the call.
He doesn't know why, fully, but doing that left a warm feeling in the center of his chest. A contentness, "Now the only problem is findin' it."
As he leans back in his chair and puts his feet up, he sings to himself, "We wrapped them all in a mainsail tight, with twice ten turns of hawser's bight. And we heaved 'em over and out of sight, with a yo-heave-ho and a fare-ye-well. A sudden plunge in a sullen swell. Ten fathoms deep on the road to hell-- Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of rum..."
Flint shut his eyes.