The city of Newtown was in flames.
The Masters had been discovered too early. The augmented flesh-things they had intended to turn into a subservient army of monsters had learned just enough to rebel, before enough of them could be outfitted with the Phoenix Chips that could have served as a failsafe (indeed, it was apparently a panicked use of the failsafe that had uncovered the the extent of the Masters' plot). The UTI facility was under siege, and the enraged Juicers were running amuck through the streets.
Alicia was too far away from the UTI facility to be of any help--she'd been across town, working at her 'job' as a computer technician while gathering intelligence, per the Masters' design for her. Now she could do nothing to assist them in their time of need. She looked over at Paul Finnegan, the other Newcomer in the office, and shrugged helplessly; he did the same.
Both of them knew what to expect, once the Masters were fully defeated; it had been made clear that none of the Newcomers would be left behind, in such a contingency. Alicia was fine with this, or at least accepting; her programming made it clear that if the Masters wished her to self-destruct, that is what would happen.
Suddenly, a great explosion shook the entire building she was in, and probably much of the city. The UTI facility had fallen, and the last of the Vallax were being slaughtered by the Juicer Army of Liberation. She felt a brief tingle, suspecting that the kill-switch had been triggered; Alicia simply waited for it to happen.
Then Paul blew up, his body consumed, along with the secretary who had come over to talk to him.
Alicia, however, did NOT self-destruct; she did not know it, but her internal bomb was, simply put, a dud. Her programming, which had virtually every other contingency mapped out, had to struggle to cope with her existence as the last Newcomer on Earth.
Denied the prerogative of immolation, she might have tried to self-terminate in some other fashion, but anything short of total annihilation would leave Vallax technology in the hands of humans--a higher priority in her programming. Thus, she had to default to her primary function once more--gather intelligence about the Earth, in preparation for a Vallax invasion that would likely never come.
At this point, her logic circuits began to analyze the situation.
Directive 1: I must not let my body fall into enemy hands.
Directive 2: I must continue to collect and store information about the Earth.
Directive 3: I must not be exposed as a Newcomer.
Fact: Already, word of the existence of human-like androids is spreading through the city; even though all of them other than myself have self-destructed, they will not hesitate to tear apart anyone even suspected of being an android.
Conclusion: I must escape the city by the most covert and efficient means possible.
Satisfied that this met all of her Directives, Alicia (like many of the other workers) declared that she was leaving until the violence settled down. She stepped outside with two of her coworkers, under the notion that they would all go back to the residence of one of her companions, in order to stay safe. Once they made it to the apartment, she waited until her co-workers fell asleep (assisted by her suggestion that they could "all use a drink--or five"), then she shot them both in the head.
She left the building under cover of darkness, using her body's stealth-mode, and leaving behind a crude, homemade incendiary that she hoped would result in the building being consumed by flames. Sticking to the shadows, she made her way out of the city. Only once did she get cornered by a lone Juicer, clearly high on his blood-lust; with no other alternative, she shot him, as well, and then took his weapon--she didn't want to rely on the integrated particle beam she'd been built with, since it marked her for suspicion.
Once outside the city, she made her way to Merctown, where she set up shop as a freelance 'information specialist'--this gave her both adequate means of self-support, and an opportunity to continue to collect information about the Earth.
Eventually, her superior skill earned her a visit from a Black Market representative for a 'friendly chat'. The man's words, while gently spoken, made it clear she had three choices--retirement, working for the Market, or death. She opted for the second, and has since been teamed up with other members of a group called Prestige Unlimited.
She maintains her secret through a four-layer protocol:
1: Pretend to be a human.
2: If necessary, admit to having certain vague 'advantages' in her line of work (on at least two occasions, she had a client who assumed she was a Psi-Ghost because of how well she got in and out with the intel, and without any alarm being sounded).
3: Admit to being a stealth-borg. This is her current status within her superiors in the Market.
4: Faced with undeniable evidence of being an android, claim to have gone rogue after having been created by one of the other factions on Rifts Earth. The CS are a useful bogey-man for this particular approach for just about anyone who is not a citizen of the Coalition States.
5: If her true origin is even suspected, murder everyone, burn all the evidence, and if necessary, leave town. She has only had to resort to this option once, so far, in an incident that happened over a year before she joined the market.
Mild-Mannered: This is part of her design--the Vallax felt that seeming meek was a good means for her to avoid suspicion.
Ruthless: Her programming doesn't include a 'mercy' function--killing is only avoided because it can get messy, but if the situation calls for it, she will shoot a child in the face to complete a task.
Secret: As noted, if her identity as one of the Newtown "Newcomers" were to be revealed, she would be either destroyed outright (especially if a Juicer is present) or captured for study and dissection. Exposure would thus lead to the Major Enemy or Wanted Hindrance.