I can't feel my legs!
The lift plummeted. Out of the window it could be seen that they were
in a large cavern with the glowing power core hanging from the
ceiling. By the looks of it they were falling too far and too fast,
even if they managed to stop this lift they would have a long way to
come back up to reach the core.
The lift started to rattle and shake. Nobody knew how long it was
until they would hit something.
Everybody clung onto each other for dear life. This didn't provide
much support at all, really, but it was comforting at least.
"Amber!" shouted Jay "Shoot out that hatch above you."
Amber looked up to see a small access hatch on the elevator ceiling,
and shot off the hinges allowing it to fall away and nail a few people
on the head.
"Now, Mk.9. Do you thi-" said Jay before being cut off mid-sentence by
"Don't worry, I get ya."
Mk.9 climbed on top of the wriggling mass of people and hauled himself
up through the hatch.
He quickly surveyed the situation. There were two cogs spinning wildly
as they released cable at an alarming rate.
"Righto. Here we go." said Mk.9, and jammed his leg in under one of
the cogs causing the elevator to jerk to a stop abruptly. Chris, Jay,
and Amber all climbed on top of the elevator and stared at the scutter
embedded in the cogs.
"Uh...I was actually gonna suggest you use the emergency brake handle
here." said Jay, pointing out a large red lever.
"You okay?" asked Chris
"Oh yeah, I'll be just fine." said Mk.9 chirpily.
At that point, the elevator shuddered and moved down another metre,
causing the gears to devour yet more of Mk.9; up to his hips.
"...Actually, no. I am most certainly not okay."
Amber shot a few rounds through the ball joint on Mk.9's leg allowing
it to be removed from it's socket.
Mk.9 stood awkwardly on one leg for a second, unsure of what to do,
before hopping back into the elevator.
"Seymour!" he called
"What is it?"
"C'mere ya ponce, I need to lean on you till we get back to the big blue."
Mk.9 hopped over the the ambassador and used him to prop himself up,
getting WD-40 over Seymour's lovely white ambassadorial suit.
"Oh, now really!" cried Seymour woefully, before remembering the large
gun Mk.9 had built into his arm, now resting on Seymour's shoulder.
<tag, we need to get back up and blow the reactor quicksmart.>