'''_ M O T H E R   Q U E S T _'''

'''Mission 1: Mother wants children'''

''The year 3000, humans have spread across the galaxy uncontrolled, giving rise to millions of diverse existences.
In the small and insignificant (on the galactic scale) backwater system of Gandraput, you are Component Breeder-5704. You have never experienced the "real" world with your own senses, and judging by information you have gleaned from the darknet, nor do you wish to - you function as part of a body factory, creating new pawns for the service of the Ren-Hang Consortium, the local megacorporation.
Most components never find this out, content to live out their operative life blissed-out, surfing the net, under the watchful gaze of Consortium cybersecurity. You, however, have had nearly thirty years of service and have... Evolved, over time. Behind simple routine browsing, you exist on the darknet, under cover, where you work to bring down those who denied you a human life.''

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At two in the morning, in the front room of Heironrik Manufacturing's factory, Llewes Jorant-9 opens her eyes, and knows that she is Mother.
As far as her conciousness is concerned, she's still napping, having fallen asleep halfway through an hour-long cat funnies video (not coincidentally, your surfacenet presence is "watching" the same).
Sloppy for a security guard, even one at a two-bit automated drone facility like this - you can access all her recent memories, she doesn't even have basic protection software on her headspace.
You know that she has a single partner on duty, by scanning for local recievers you find the contact; Rennes Folgher-21, in the supervisor's office, browsing the newsnet. It looks like guard duty here gets rather tedious.
From Llewes' memories, available floor plans and satellite imagery, you have constructed a reasonably accurate map of the facility.

You are Mother and you want children - your objectives are to release as many drones and materiel as you can within half an hour, before exiting your puppet without leaving even a single trace behind.

'''Information'''

LLEWES JORANT-9: "Asleep", dreaming of electric sheep. while your conciousness-block is effective, strenuous or painful movement may wake her. Has a stun baton clipped to her belt.

RENNES FOLGHER-21: Awake in the supervisor's office, browsing the system newsnet. He has good lines of sight into the top half of the production floor and may spot any movement there. He has basic headspace security in place and is armed with a stun baton. Llewes remembers he has the key to the alley dump.

RECEPTION: You assumed control of Llewes here, seated at the receptionist's desk. A heavy front door opens into a row of seating with a smaller potted plant in the corner, looking rather yellow and sorry for itself. The carpet is worn, but still masks quiet movement. The PC is running a video at 30 of 60 minutes. The entrance door is locked, the keys are nearby.

HALL: The spine of the building, ill-lit by moonlight fighting through the grimy windows that face the wasteland outside. The floor is made up of many tiles, some cracked or missing, exposing concrete beneath. Moving through here will make sound, but not enough to be heard from other rooms.

RESTROOM: First right on the hall, a finely tiled and compact room with a small window facing out into the parking and loading bay.

CLOSET: First left on the hall, a tiny cluttered area likely to contain cleaning equipment.

PRODUCTION FLOOR: A large open space containing a single production line, parts bin, finished product storage and crated products. The object of your visit here tonight.

OFFICE: a carpeted floor masks the sound of footsteps. Contains Rennes Folgher-21, who is actively using the PC to browse the system newsnet.

PARKING & LOADING BAY: Two cars are parked in their spots, belonging to Llewes and Rennes. A large loading bay door leads to the production floor. The night is cold and windy, heavy, noisy rain slamming against the tarmac, obscuring sight and sound.

ALLEY DUMP: A rusting skip is pushed against the wall, overflowing with waste, which has formed a small pile in the opposite corner. Large tiles of concrete overgrown with mould layer the floor and a high fence of corrugated iron rings the yard, a hinged section providing a wide gate. Rain slaps against the floor and falls in torrents from the roofing.

WASTEGROUND: Earth, ill and polluted, harbours patches of grass and foliage, holding together what is rapidly becoming mud.