So. She had plan A down. One lockbox. One combat drone. The chips containing the brains of as many Slave Union people as she could smuggle... and whatever data she could copy without risking getting caught.

Now... it was time for plan B.

She started off by pushing the hand-cart loaded down with cases next to the scanner. While she had a handheld unit that she could use to scan an object or a room, the heavy-duty scanner could get resolution so fine that the human brain couldn't make out the difference without technological assistance; and in a sim, with that assistance being simulated, it could fake that as well if it needed to.

As she opened the cases, she found exactly what she'd wanted when she made the request; one immaculate, brand-new humanoid combat drone; one older one, which had clearly been used on patrol for some time but was still in working order; and one damaged but operable one. And the fourth case...

She studied it closely. It was a standard-issue flying combat drone, the most popular one the Alliance used... though it didn't look like much, in its current state, just four engines attached to an armored box with a slit down the middle just wide enough you could shove a gun through it. They were built so you could mount a standard combat rifle in them; though they also made more compact weapons specifically for them, that didn't have all the excess mass, often with extra battery mounts to extend the life of the drone.

The idea was simple; you buy the drone, a rifle, and you assemble it. It didn't have a means to reload the weapon, so you wanted a needler, or a laser weapon, something that could keep firing for a long time between reloads.... you mount the rifle, sync it up with your implant or a controller... and poof. You have fire support you can remotely feed targets.

While there were variations and refinements, the core principles remained the same as they'd always been. Slap a few batteries in it, it'll fly around for half an hour delivering death to your enemies, then come back, you swap in more batteries, rinse and repeat.

If she ever had to fight for real, she wanted one of these. She could make it act like her tiger... designate targets, it moves around for a good angle....

Eh.

She powered on the first one, and tapped a series of commands into the exposed control panel; it rose to its feet, and would move wherever it was gently pushed; the default, passive, state of it. She pushed it onto the scanner... and started it up.

If she was going to get out of here in a less legal fashion, she needed a pilot. And she had exactly the right candidate in mind.

***

Jacob blinked. One moment, he was programming a beacon. Hoping against hope for a rescue. The next... his sunburn was gone. His aches, his pains... all of it was perfectly fine. It was as if he'd just... slept it all off, and woke up....

He was standing in an empty grey room. There was a couch, a table, a chair... no doors. No entrances. Everything was smooth. Perfect.

And... he was in a sim. He'd just given away the coordinates and a codephrase that the Alliance could use to lure an ASU ship into a trap, thinking it was coming to rescue him.

Fuck.

He sighed... and sat down on the couch. This... was bad. They had him completely helpless, completely...

A woman appeared, wearing a white Alliance uniform; simple, vacuum suit, red Alliance logo... no gloves, no helmet, so she wasn't serving on a ship, or a fort. Cute; dark skin, curly hair... but... Alliance. He glared at her. "So. Whats the story? you got enough info, so now the torture starts to see what else you can drag out? Or are you the good cop?"

She frowned, and glanced up at the ceiling. "So. This is an avatar. Simple programming. I can hear you, and I can make this thing say what I want it to, but I'm actually sitting at a computer console. Obviously, you already know this is a sim. So please, don't say anything about the ASU that the existing recordings don't already reveal; those have already been turned over to my boss, unlike Victor's, so I can't undo that short of slagging the database; if everything goes wrong, they'll have this recording as well."

He frowned. Was this going to be a good-cop, bad-cop thing? This girl comes in and acts sweet, then some brutal thug comes in for the torture? Why did she mention Victor? "Well. If you don't want me to reveal anything new, what's this about?"

"I'm planning to defect. I've got a trip planned to an independent world, that should be able to get me safely out, and I'd like to bring as much intel... and ideally, as many minds off the stack... as possible. I think I've got a good route. A conference I'll be attending, about sims like this one. I leave in a week, and never see Alliance soil again. But.... things might go wrong. And while you might be dead... you're a pilot. And I can get access to drones for you to control. So... if it comes to a shootout, and I can get some drones, I'd like the option of stealing a ship."

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"....I've heard of this sort of nonsense before. You take one of ours and convince them they're working for the good guys. Then you use whatever drone or ship I'm piloting to kill more ASU people. Either I never find out... or I only find out when I'm at the end of my usefulness."

She sighed. "Yeah, that's true. My boss loves doing that sort of thing, takes a real vindictive pleasure in doing it. But... no. They already judged you weren't a good candidate for that. When they do it, they just put an overlay that makes Alliance ships look like ASU or United Worlds, and vice versa... and then put the victim into a fighter or gunship as the pilot. If someone's smart enough they can figure out whats going on by analyzing the patterns, seeing how people fight and react... the ASU has tons of cash but not many people, while the Alliance has both. Means they fight differently, deploy different assets. The ASU has used so many drones and so much borderline AI stuff the Directorate keeps investigating them. Not to mention the capabilities of the craft. We make our own stuff, the ASU uses random craft from everywhere."

"...Yeah. Sounds about right. I would've been suspicious to start, and if the force I was part of was equipped like Alliance ones, I'd go rogue. And if they lied on the overlay about what each side had, I might get the fighter destroyed for no good reason."

"Exactly. So. I've got all the minds of people recovered from your crew. Gonna bring them all in here, one by one. If you're willing, I'll be putting receivers in a group of combat drones I'm currently scanning so you can remotely control them... and carry your minds and a transmitter with me. Either you wake up in independent space, where I can hand you over to someone from the ASU that can give you all the proper credentials.... or you wake up because we need to shoot our way onto a ship and get offworld in a hurry."

Jacob studied her for a moment... but the figure was emotionless. Just an empty image, not a real person. "...I make no promises. If it looks legit, I'll help escape. I'm down with killing a few Alliance spooks either way, I know how nasty those people are. If not, I'll take you out first."

"...Just decide fast, if it happens. If you get activated, it'll be because they got suspicious and did a gene-scan of me, or otherwise decided to hold me and check my carry-ons and found your minds. Either way.... you'll have minutes, or less, before the authorities unhook you, and you're on the way to being sold or scrapped, and I'm on the way to an execution."

"...Execution. An attempted defection merits an execution? I thought it was legal to leave the Alliance?"

"I'm Alliance Intel, and I'm an Augment. The sort that will pass a surface-level scan, but not an in-depth one. No matter what I tell them, I'm gonna get killed or enslaved in a few weeks when they next run a detailed scan. I'd prefer neither."

A slow nod. The United Worlds had been screwing with the Alliance since they were just a bunch of pirates and religious nuts. For forty years there'd been a back and forth, the dubs making a new version that would look normal to scans, the Alliance developing new scans to detect them. As far as he knew, the Alliance was ahead on that score.... but it was possible she'd been a new variety... or one of her parents had.

This whole thing reeked of trickery. He'd take the chance to kill some spooks, if he could... but make absolutely sure not to reveal anything else they didn't know already. Was she an implant by the dubs, who just found out they'd made an advance in scanner tech and would find her next time?

"...Well then. I suppose I can understand your motivation."

***

That went about as well as could be expected.

The trip would take a couple of days, if it went to plan. She'd get a small carry-on bag for the initial launch, and to take in whatever berth she paid for, and a footlocker that would be stowed with the rest of cargo. She had no idea why, but there was a specific size that both the Alliance and the dubs used for their footlockers; and which was the standard.

If things went wrong, they'd go wrong before launch. She should be able to avoid being scanned... but if she wasn't, she'd never reach the ship. If she wanted to make it out alive, she'd have to activate the bots, try to join up with them... and secure one of the ships. Something like a gunship; small and fast enough to get away, but big enough to make it out of the system.

...She was not a professional soldier. Some of these minds were, and would be devastating piloting a combat drone... but the odds were low. She needed an alternate option. A way to make the backup plan actually viable.

She inhaled deeply. Victor's info hadn't been sent to her boss yet. The Mckenzie plantation. Maxson. She needed to track him down, and speak to him, without leaving a trace, without her bosses knowing... even just searching for him on this console would give the game away if she ended up not needing him.

She knew he was an Overseer. The name of where he worked. And probably his last name. What if there was more than one Maxson there? Ugh.

She saw a beep; an incoming message on her terminal.

~Hey, sweetheart. The docs have retrieved 'Sue's implant and are cleaning it up now. You're our foremost expert on this sort of thing. They want him processed and interrogated ASAP. I know you wanted some vacation time, and I'm fine with making sure you have a safe trip out, but considering who it is.... I'm not going to force you. Just asking.~

It was from Ericson. She grimaced.

~I would certainly be willing to. I have to warn you, though... it would mostly just be an effort to make him suffer a bit for my own personal enjoyment. I frankly don't think he's likely to give us much; he knows who I am, and what I do... and saw what the laser did to his torso. He's going to assume he woke up dead, which means it'll be almost impossible to get anything out of him through trickery... and we both know how useless torture is unless we can verify it on the spot. I'll end up looking at a bunch of leads that probably have no actual connection with the ASU, torturing him for a while longer, then coming back, rinsing and repeating, and never really know. I might even just burn his mind out completely.~

~Understood. I've got a courier taking it your way.~

She stared at the screen. This was awful.... but it might also be useful. This asshole was the cause of her current predicament; maybe he was a 'good guy' in the grand scheme of things, but his methods were terrible, and he'd killed the damned cat!

On the other hand... he had to have a way to get himself, and some intel, offworld. So... hopefully, she could use that.