This is so familiar Max nearly wants to laugh. Sure, the technology is aces, but the guards are still just as human as they are back home, they're easy for a seasoned soldier to take down. Down, not out. That distinction is important to Max in a way that never was when she was younger. Mister Mysterio's scavenged tech comes in handy, so does her sticky fingers. (Hey, eight years of stealing to survive, might as well do something useful.) Max doesn't stop to check with anyone else who might be breaking in; she has a mission. Part of her feels guilty that she didn't offer to help anyone else, but there was too much risk and Courfeyrac was too special.

Only once she made it to the cells and realized that there was no way to quickly identify Courfeyrac's cell did Max stall. Damn. She looked at the keycard in her hand and realized she couldn't waste time worrying that she might let out someone who might actually belong in a cell.

"Olly olly oxen free." Max swiped the card, barely waiting for the force field of the cell to open and close before moving on to the next. "Courf! Courf, you better yell your pretty French ass off right now!"