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Marina glanced back and forth between the plotters surrounding her, listening to them boast of how they could break free once their various restraints and shackles were removed, a boast she had heard so many times by now. She wasn't sure if any of them, outside of Randolph and the omnivorous alien, considered her a factor in this grand plan of theirs. Well get the device off her back and they wouldn't have a choice in the matter, would they?

"Great, now I'm doing it," Marina chuckled to herself, her gaze temporarily resting on the one with long, thin black hair looking rather vacant. It was only natural of course; she kept her emotions carefully in check, never once stepping out of line when the guards could see her. Even when she wanted nothing more then to bare her claws and tear through every smug and sneering face looking down on her, she bit her tongue and waited.

That was something her enemies always got wrong about her. It was so easy to paint Marina Montressor as a schemer, a psychopathic manipulator, a grandmaster playing everyone around her like pawns on a chessboard. It was that reputation that earned her the colorful nickname "The Bismarck of the Business World" after she outmaneuvered those bastards at Sonnenlicht. She hated the nickname if only because she found the hero worship of that name so unbearable, but it fit in at least one way. The German statesman's greatest skill was never genius, a talent the aristocratic fop never once possessed. It was patience, and the willingness to hit and hit hard when the right moment presented itself.

That's when she spotted something...odd. Glancing at a distant table, an unimportant prisoner sat with his bulky wrist restraints at his side. The small light on the side was not on. Strange. She glanced to her side, where the enthusiastic alien was sitting. The light on the apparatus, a small dot so hard to spot you wouldn't know it was there unless you looked for it, was dimmed as well. Putting two and two together, her heart started racing as she looked back at the vacantly staring Hemlock again. What was his power again? She heard one guard discussing it...traveling through electric...

Fucking hell. Here she was pondering about some dead German's ability to improvise when the time was right and here she was. Right when things were starting to get dicey in the cafeteria. And if the power was out, that meant-

[i]*hsss*[/i]

Such a small sound, and yet it rang in her ears like the fanfare of a hundred man orchestra. The leech of a contraption attached to her spine; that was connected to the system as well, and with the power out, the pumps had shut down. Soon she'd be free, so long as the guards lining the walls didn't realize the power was out and shoot her. Time to make herself scarce.

Quietly getting to her feet, she surreptitiously leaned over to the alien next to her. "Someone's cut the power, everything's shut down," she whispered, before turning on her heel and making herself scarce. The guards eyed her suspiciously but didn't follow; the device was supposed to still be working, after all.

Time to see what her ghoulish friend was up to.