//------------------------------//
// The Great Escape 
// Story: Innavedr 
// by Imploding Colon 
//------------------------------//

	"Dear Props, some expedience would be fortuitous at the moment," said Clark's voice.

"I'll only make a mistake if I go faster, Jasper, master!" Props cooed over the sound of mechanical clinking.

"Give her space to breathe, Mr. Clark," Pilate said.  Nervously, he tilted his head around and gave the rooftoop a sweep with the O.A.S.I.S. sphere.  Windswept metal stretched for several meters before coming to a sharp edge where a window washing platform rested, having been fully retracted to the building's summit.  "It's only a matter of time before they figure out how we escaped their hold."

"That was some sharp thinking on your behalf, Mr. Pilate!" Ebon Mane cheerfully exclaimed from the zebra's right.  "All these months of indentured servitude in the kitchen!  Whew!  I'm telling you... we could have used the zebra-and-squirrel connection way sooner."

Clark's voice drifted in.  "I don't suppose the rodent's telekinesis could also be utilized in dragging a zeppelin here from one of the adjacent building's landing pads?"

Simon perched on Pilate's shoulder and squeaked wearily.

"I... don't think he's quite that godly, Mr. Clark," Pilate said with a nervous smile.  "Besides, it would do us all good if the fellow rested a bit."

"Hey... he deserves it!" Ebon exclaimed.

"Got it!" Props suddenly sing-songed, followed by the sound of swishing metal panels.  "Roll in, everypony!  Keep your legs and other legs inside at all times!"

"Props..."  Ebon groaned as she trotted forward. "I don't even."

"Me neither!" she giggle-snorted.  "Small world, huh?!"

"Is this what I think it is?" Pilate remarked.

"Indeed," Clark said, ushering the zebra into a claustrophobic, acoustic chamber.  "The elevator should take us to every level of this building, including the basement corridors."

"Wait..."  Pilate raised an eyebrow as the doors closed behind them.  He couldn't stop bumping elbows with the other equines inside the car.  "Basement corridors?  But I thought—"

"Nightshade Industries claims that they don't have underground chambers leading to other compartments," Ebon said.  "But it's a complete falsehood.  I know, cuz I've been sent there a few times to collect cooking supplies."

"Evidently, Madame Nightshade has been busy constructing an intricate web of labyrinthine passageways for various purposes," Clark said.  "Most of them lead east to a grand hangar hidden beneath the landscape beyond Blue Nova."

"A hangar...?" Pilate murmured.

"And a perfect escape route!"  Props cheered while fiddling with the elevator controls.  "Well, almost perfect.  If I built an escape route, it'd be lined with plates of grilled cheese."

Ebon Mane moaned.  "Don't you even start..."

"You know you love it, Ebony!"

"Wait!"  Pilate grunted.  "We can't escape!  Not yet!"

"I beg your pardon?" Clark remarked.  "Am I wrong to assume that you had given us a way out of this predicament?"

"Well, of course!  But I'm indebted to some... body..."  Pilate cleared his throat.  "Floydien, the gentlecolt who brought me here.  There's no telling what may have happened to him!  And I still haven't found his beloved, Nancy Jane..."

"To my knowledge, we're the only ones that have been held here against our will," Clark said.

"Yeah!" Props chirped.  "Besides, it's not like they would have him held up in their security brig or nothin'!"

Simon barked.

"Huh?"  Pilate gasped.  "There's a security detainment center here?"

"Well, somewhere in the building!" Props said.  "Past where they keep all the pew-pew death sticks and stuff."

"That sounds like the perfect spot to keep a prisoner for questioning," Pilate said.  He turned towards Clark.  "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Nyeaauuuuughhhhhmmmnnnghhhh..."

Pilate's metal brow furrowed.  "That does not sound very affirmative."

"There is no telling how many guards are located in this facility, much less how many of them are presently searching the grounds in an attempt to find us."

"Oh come on, Clark!" Ebon Mane's voice rang.  "This guy's gone out on a limb to get us out of that annoying room!  The least we can do is repay him!"

"And get us all back in the clutches of Nightshade's lackeys?!  I am a stallion who believes in honor and repayment, but I'm not entirely sure this is exactly feasible..."

Simon barked again, this time giving an extended monologue of angry squeaks.  Sparks crackled in the air and the entire elevator car shook.

"Whoah!"  Props giggled.  "Nuts to that action!  Hah!  Get it?!"

"I'm a sensible pony," Pilate said, holding back a smirk.  "But I cannot say the same of my gifted, telekinetic friend here."

"Alright... alright!!"  Clark grunted.  "We will endeavor to get your... eccentric friend freed!"

The elevator car stopped shaking.

"Glad we could come to an agreement," Pilate said.

"But we cannot do it through any simple means!  This building is just too well protected!  We need to come up with a plan..."

"Things would be a lot simpler if we could just get past all of the security," Ebon said.

"I don't suppose there's any single floor that would be safe," Pilate said.

"No.  Plus, with these enforcers you're talking about, we haven't much time to waste here anymore."

"Wait!  I know!"  Props gasped.  "Every Nightshade building is powered by a crystal core located at the base of the structure, so that it can connect via mana conduits through the super-duper-secret basement corridors that are built!"

"Yes..."  Clark leaned in.  "And...?"

"Well, get me to one of those cores and I bet your bottom buttcheek I can knock it out!  (Squee!)  And that'll knock out the lights so that none of the guards will see us to knock out our brains!"

"That sounds..."  Clark's breath paused for a gulp.  "...ridiculously convoluted."

"But it could work," Ebon Mane said.  "Our striped friend here can see in the dark... more or less..."

"You mean to suggest that I attempt to get Floydien out of the brig in pitch blackness?"

"Seems like the more likely scenario," Clark said.  "I suspect we will have to split into teams for this..."

"Oooh!  Oooh!"  Props hopped up and down in the elevator car.  "I get the crystal core!"

"That much is obvious, milady.  But which of us should accompany Pilate?"

After a moment of silence, Ebon spoke up.  "I'll go with him.  Between him, me, and the squirrel... we'll drag that poor fella out of the hole he's in."

"Then I suppose I'll assist Props," Clark said.  "She may need help in powering down the core without blowing things up... like she's apt to do."

"Hehehe!  I'm half deaf in one ear!"

"And then we can proceed through the corridor to the hangar compartment."

"What for?" Pilate asked.

"Pffft! Duh!"  Props' voice squawked.  "Cuz somewhere east of here and underground is the fastest skiff in the air!"

"I'm afraid I don't follow..."

Clark stepped in.  "What Props in her poetic tone is trying to convey is that Nightshade Industries—in their infinite wisdom—gave us the detailed schematics of the fastest airship in their possession."

"You mean the one you were charged with building the 'cage' for...?"

"And even without that magical energy source, the thing is still faster than most Ledomaritan gliders!" Ebon said.  "We've always figured that if we had a chance to get out of here, we'd have our best chances on that airship!"

"Spark knows we've studied it enough," Clark said.  "Once we've got your friend, we should rendezvous at the basement level, trek east, and make a swift exit on our ride."

"And then it's home to Gray Smoke!" Props cheered.

"Well... I do suppose it would only be fitting to help Pilate find his beloved," Clark said.

"I'm all for that," Ebon uttered.

"Then it's a plan?" Pilate stammered, his lungs short and excited.

"Absolutely."  Clark turned towards the mare.  "Props?  Can you get this elevator moving?"

"Uh ohhhhh... sorry, everypony, but it's out of order."

"What?!"

"HA!  Heeheehee—I had you going, didn't I?  Heehee!"  The compartment hummed as the car began its gliding descent.  "Down we gooooo—"

"Props..."  Ebony groaned.  "One of these days, I'm going to replace your mane with grass and feed you to a herd of sheep."

"Oh please!  Then you'd drive me sheer crazy!  Heeheehee!"

"Maybe this is too late for a change to the game plan, but can we just put her in Floydien's place instead?"