"So... uh..." Ebon Mane leaned towards Pilate. "Are you really blind?"
"Yes. Most assuredly." The zebra turned in the general direction of Props' and Jasper Clark's bodies. "Could somepony explain to me what you three are doing here?"
"I was attending a conference at Gray Smoke—" Clark began.
"The most clouderiffic cloud city there ever is!" Props added with a giggle.
"...right. Ahem. There was a symposium for like-minded physicists to gather around and talk about the latest technological advances this side of the war front. I was supposed to give a formal address on the potential profit in utilizing hyper-accelerated mana streams in Ledomaritan freight shipping—"
"Come on, Jasper," Ebon droned. "Don't talk him deaf. He's got enough to worry about as it is."
Props giggled.
With a groaning voice, Clark said, "Long story short, I was accosted by unicorns attempting to pass themselves off as Gray Smoke merchants. They hauled me onto a ship, where I met Props and Ebon Mane here."
"I was knee-deep in a tangled auxiliary engine gear array!" Props cooed. "When they grabbed me, I was so sad that I couldn't get my work done! But then they gave me even better work here!"
"Needless to say, Props, not all of us are thrilled to be here against our will."
"Pffft! Don't be such a grumparoo, Clarkaroo! I see your ears twitching with excitement whenever you look at the energy readings they send us! Either you're making love to physics in your head, or somepony's giving you a tummy rub! And since I learned my lesson on the first day, I think we all know what the real reason—"
"AHEM... And Ebon here..."
"I... uh..." The younger stallion chuckled. "I was making a delivery of soup cans and flour to Props' ship when she was taken, so they took me too."
"Yeah!" Props' hooves could be heard bounding over towards where Ebon stood. "Me and Ebony go way back in Gray Smoke! Why, we're practically identical twins! Except I'm an innie while he has an outie—heeheehee—if you catch my drift."
Pilate nodded. "I take it that you all have—"
"My gray smoky drift! Heehee!"
Pilate smiled nervously, cleared his throat, and continued. "I take it that you all have been brought here to do something specifically?"
"Affirmative," Clark's voice replied. Through Simon's pulse, Pilate momentarily caught his head nodding. "My mental skills and Props' expertise have certainly been put to the test. And as for Ebon..."
"He's been keeping us in good favor with the guards by keeping their bellies full!" Props exclaimed. "Isn't that right, ya slick-maned rascal?"
"It's certainly better than execution," Ebon said with a shuddering breath.
Pilate grimaced. "Blessed Spark! Is it really that bad of a situation?"
"Nightshade Industries means business, but they're not enforcer material. Er... if you catch my drift."
"Believe it or not, I do," Pilate said with a nod.
"I wasn't always making food in the mess for them. When I was first dragged here, I was expected to be nothing but a normal prisoner—just to shit down and keep his mouth shut. But I... eheh... have a way of persuading ponies. I won their confidence, and now I'm serving tons of stallions everyday. Serving food, that is..."
"Uh huh..."
"I've managed to hear bits and pieces of gossip here and there. It seems that most if not all the guards of this place are in on what's going on, which is kind of remarkable, considering how little the public knows about it."
"Knows about what?" Pilate asked.
"Well, it appears as though Madame Nightshade is expecting to send a vessel east to the battlefront," Ebon Mane said. "This isn't out of the ordinary. Nightshade Industries supplies the Ledomaritan forces along the eastern front all the time. Only, what's strange about this occasion is that they didn't want to use a vessel from their own stock. Typical Nightshade freight zeppelins are typically slow, and they didn't want to construct something to Ledomaritan military specifications, or else the Enforcers might catch on."
"Catch on to what?"
"That they need a glider for this delivery—a very fast, swift vessel that could outfly both Xonan and Searonese aircraft."
"So..." Pilate pivoted over towards the others. "They're having Mr. Clark and Ms. Props here construct a newer, faster, secret aircraft?"
"Hardly," Clark said. "Rather, they're having us augment a preexisting craft."
"Oh?"
"From what I overheard from the guards," Ebon explained, "Several vessels have been seized by Nightshade's security, all for bogus reasons, mind you. I'm guessing that they were looking for a ship privately built that—with a few modifications—could be made to do the swift delivery that's needed."
Props spoke in: "Cuz if they requisitioned the nuts and bolts to build one from scratch, the Big Whigs at Ledo would notice and start sniffing Nightshade's whigs!"
"And a few months ago, they found a vessel fast enough to work," Clark added. "That's what Props and I are here for."
"We're building a cage!" Props sing-songed.
"A cage for what?" Pilate's brow furrowed. "This... delivery? Is it alive?"
"Quite frankly, we don't know what it is. Some sort of vibrant, out-of-this world energy signature. I'm not sure how the company got their hooves on it, but it's the most amazing thing I've ever read about. No pony in the Company is gifted with containing this sort of unknown element. Pffft—it's most certainly thrown us for a loop! But, think tanks do as think tanks are, and we've almost come upon a solution."
"They're certainly barking up our tree trunks enough to make us get the job done!"
Pilate trotted forward. "And this... energy is going to be taken east? What—is it a weapon?"
"Nopony's saying," Ebon explained. "But a few stallions outside of this room have dropped the name of Prime Enforcer Seclorum."
Pilate rubbed his chin in thought. "Prime Enforcer Seclorum... Prime Enforcer Seclorum..."
"It would seem that he and Madame Nightshade have history with one another," Clark said. "I do believe her less-than-fortunate brother served under him in the war."
"The name sounds vaguely familiar." Pilate lifted his head. "I would very much like to help you three get out of here, as impossible as that may sound."
"Hey..." Ebon's body shrugged. "You're a zebra with a metal forehead who floated here with a magical squirrel. You're the best thing to come this way since I talked the mess hall into scrounging up butter garlic and cinnamon."
Pilate talked past Props' giggles. "But, first and foremost, would you be so kind as to let me see the blueprints of this... 'cage' that you are working on?"
"Most certainly. Although..." Clark's body shifted. "Can a pony like you actually read it?"
Pilate smiled gently. "I'm most certain I can."