As the cell door shut, Drake spat at the departing General in futility. Getting caught wasn’t usually something that happened to him, but then again, he didn’t have the ship or his crew at his back. With the wind at his back and the crew by his side, they would’ve fought their way through this damn Frontier corporation, before selling their gear on the black market. But something else was troubling him... Ever since he’d betrayed Alpha, Michael had been tortured by his own psyche. Did he [i]really[/i] think that he was doing it to help protect her? Or was he just doing it to break even, to selfishly eradicate his former sins? Either way, her death (he doesn’t know that she’s alive) haunted him. He couldn’t go back to being the ruthless smuggler that he once was, not when he had people to look after. Before Caroline had come along, he was content with loneliness. Now, he needed to figure out the truth, and a mere cell wouldn’t contain him. Looking down at his restraints, Drake did a quick forensic scan of the access code with his prosthetic eye, and then began printing the “key” that he needed from the 3D printer in his wrist, concealed by carbon nanotube plating. After a few seconds, the pattern was finished, and with a bend of his wrist, Drake freed the restraints on his prosthetic arm. Rolling his shoulder, he reached across his chest and grabbed the restrain that was on his other arm, tearing it off with a loud grunt. The broken restraint clattered on the ground, too loudly for the guards to not notice. Thinking quickly, he ripped off the cuffs on his feet as well, and stood up. He probably didn’t have much time, so if he didn’t find anything by looking around the room, he’d have to try to get a guard’s attention. But hopefully there was an opening around here somewhere...