Vanya stopped struggling as the guards stepped back, their job was done. The woman watched Vanya, a hint of smugness in her expression, one that swiftly disappeared when Vanya flashed a smirk in return, shrugging casually with a murmured "Thanks for the help with my wardrobe."
It was clear she had expected Vanya's pride to be deflated, but Vanya had faced worse. The uninformed woman straightened her coat, her expression now cold. "When the commencement stage wraps, you will be transported to Lunaris. Let this be a reminder to everyone here," she said, her voice carrying across the room.
"Resisting facility instructions is futile. Your compliance will ensure your safety and comfort. You are all here for a great and noble purpose...do not squander it."
She turned on her heel and left, the guards followed without a backward glance save for the guard who had beaten Vanya with the baton. He threw a nasty glare over his shoulder, one Vanya returned with just as much venom. The door slid shut with a hiss, and the room once again descended into tense silence.
Vanya plopped down into her bunk, her breathing was ragged and she sucked in a deep breath in a futile attempt to steady her breathing. The cold efficiency of the facility made her skin crawl, and anger simmered just beneath the surface, seeking an outlet.
'At least I got something out of her...we will be transported... there is an opportunity in that.' Vanya thought. It was a certainty that her crew knew of her fate by now and would attempt a rescue.
Too many Grayskins owed her favours, they would provide her crew with the intel and resources they needed, and those who did not owe Vanya a favour would jump at the chance to make her owe one. Vanya only needed to create them an opportunity...but how?
A young woman who sat at the table across the room hesitated for a moment before approaching Vanya. She was small in size, evidence of a long duration of malnutrition. "Are you... okay?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Vanya glanced up, regarding the young woman in silent contemplation. Before Vanya could respond, another voice cut through the room. "Don't waste your pity on her." said an older woman from a nearby bunk. She was tall and wiry, her jumpsuit hanging loosely on her lean frame. A cybernetic implant glimmered faintly on her temple, evidence of life in the survival zones. "She's just another UHF cast-off who thinks she's too good for the rest of us."
Vanya's gaze snapped to the speaker, her jaw tightening. "You don't know a damn thing about me," she said, her voice was low and dangerous.
The woman snorted. "I know enough. I am certain you all caught a glimpse of the tattoo on her arm, we all know what a UHF brand looks like, we've seen it etched into the arms of the very ones that make our lives miserable... she's one of them."
"She thinks she's better than us because she used to be UHF, she's had an easy life while we were scraping for scraps in the survival zones."
"You're no better than the people who left us out there to die." She added.
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room and Vanya was immediately faced with dozens of eyes filled with resentment.
Vanya could not blame them too, all they knew about the UHF was nothing compared to the horrors the federation sanctioned every day. They were wise to be wary of the UHF, anyone with an ounce of self-preservation left would never trust the federation or its agents, especially not those who had tasted what life in the survival zones really was like.
"You think this is bad? Beneath you?" The older woman continued, gesturing to the room around. "Look around you, this might not be perfect, but it's better than what's out there."
"At least here, we have food...a bed...clean air! A chance at a future! Out there, death is a daily reality! If you're too blind or too proud to see that, then maybe you don't belong here." She hissed, "But don't go dragging the rest of us down with you...most of us here have nothing to return to."
Vanya opened her mouth to retort, but the weight of their stares silenced her. There was nothing she could say that would dissociate her from her background as a UHF agent, and Vanya had been too distracted to recall she had to be wary of those around her as much as she was of those on the other side of the doors.
The room was against her now, their fear and desperation twisting into anger. Vanya sank back onto her bunk, her fists clenched at her sides.
The older woman smirked in satisfaction. "That's what I thought," she said, turning back to her meal.
Vanya stared at the floor, her mind racing. The disparity between her and the others was glaring now and suddenly, the room felt smaller, the walls closed in. Her heart pounded as she realized there existed a slight possibility that she would not escape this.
This place wasn't just a prison facility, it was a pressure cooker, and cracks were starting to show... Vanya knew one thing, like a cop tossed into a cell, she was a likely target of resentment. If she wanted to survive till the day of escape, she would need to pick her battles carefully.
She couldn't keep standing out as she had done today.