Forsaken

[Implosion]

ACT I: Beyond the shadows

Scarlet nervously awaited an answer to her holocall. Suddenly, the unit flicked to life and the figure of a man dressed in a Liberty Navy uniform appeared.

"What do you want?" - The man said.

"What I want is to not have to speak with you, but we can't always get what we want. I've an operative lost in Vespucci. I've sent someone to investigate. You're to aid her and do everything she needs you to do. I don't have to remind you what will happen if you decline, no? You are to meet her on Barbados. For her and your safety, I'll keep the name to myself." -Despite no facial expression on her face, Scarlet was smug about the fact she can boss this man around. - "This individual is of great importance to me, Hackett. I want him alive and very much unharmed, you get me? Get the job done or there will be consequences."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Who..." -The call abruptly ended. -"Frakkin' A."

Hackett straightened his uniform and turned towards his XO.

"Sam, prep the ship, we're burning for Barbados. This will be a black op, we go dark. Off the grid. We can't risk high command getting wind of our shady dealings. Make sure everything is hush-hush."

Hackett walked towards the front of the bridge, crossed his hands behind his back and muttered:

"So it begins..."

The Liberty Dreadnought's engines screamed as they came back to life. Roaring under the immense load, they propelled the ship onwards, towards its destination. Half an hour later, the ship has reached it's the luxury liner. A Grizly made it's way to Barbados and brought Hackett to the hangar, which was rather luxurious, much like the rest of the ship. Hackett, now in his parade uniform, made his way to the bar. If he wanted to make contact with Scarlet's operative, he had to make sure he'd stick out like a sore thumb in a crowd mainly composed of rich people. He wondered if that was enough and decided to seal the deal with a pitcher of Sangria wine, to draw even more attention to himself. He sat on a couch, at the very center of the bar, poured himself a glass and just laid back on the leather sofa. The furniture sure was better in the civilian sector, he thought. Robert Hackett focused his gaze on the entrance, glass in hand, and just awaited to see who would come in next. If he was lucky, the operative knew his name and would see the name tag on his uniform.

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