August 14th, 1034 ALB, Turquoise Sea, west of Trots and Canters Islands.

The sunrise on the beautiful turquoise sea was amazingly beautiful, the weather and the rising of Celestia's sun fills the RNMS Strong Hoover with liveliness, liveliness that is totally eclipsed by the huge accumulation of black clouds in front of them, impenetrable by daylight and only illuminated by the numerous lightnings that occur inside; thunder and rumblings are heard in its bowels.

Tailcoatl, Fluttershy, and Spike stand on the railing outside the ship's bridge, watching anxiously as the storm rages not far away, and peeking into the discussion being held by Twilight, the ship's captain, Jade Finder, and Major Peakard.

The ponies on the bridge worked at their daily tasks, peering through binoculars, viewing screens, measuring maps, turning knobs and buttons.

“The storm looks much wilder in reality, Your Highness” —the captain argues— “we should consider postponing the mission.”

“How far's the island?” Peakard asks.

“About forty kilometers, maybe more,” the captain answers.

“Bring us closer to that place, please, Captain,” Twilight insists, pointing the map.

“I’m sorry, princess, my ship, my rules, if you want to take off, it shall be from here,” The captain concludes sharply.

Twilight then turns to Peakard.

“Can you get through that, Major? This is our chance.”

The Major continued to analyze the weather map, where he saw an area with colors that were a bit more friendly to the eye. Trotland didn't seem sure of it either.

“Through this hole here?” He points with his claw.

“Yes, it’s a rare pocket of low pressure, it means we'll be less time inside the storm,” the alicorn states as the colonel looks outside and analyzes the storm.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, we appreciate your passion, but as the leader of this mission, I'm in control,” as Jade turns to look at the captain. “The mission is aborted.”

Twilight can't believe her luck and tries to insist.

“Well said, the princesses will be impressed by your great courage,” Twilight says, sarcastically, trying convince him.

“I hope they'll be impressed with my common sense, Princess,” Jade counters. “We’re just going to make a map.”

“From one of the last unexplored areas of Faust and you want to leave because of some rain?!” The alicorn insists. “You can stay on the ship if you want, Jade, but it could be years before we have another opportunity like this one.”

"This is crazy, your majesty," he replied.

Twilight turned to Peakard.

“I was told your unit is capable of handling the harsh climate, Major, isn't it?”

Peakard just listens to her and turns away again as the princess continues.

“Why don’t we let Major Peakard have the last word, Jade?”

That storm was definitely the most horrible storm Peakard had ever seen in all his years of service.

“There’s no way I'm gonna get on that helicopter," Jade Finder said.

Jade Finder looked into the helicopter's interior, its doors open and its unbelted seats. His heart twisted in fear.

Behind him, exiting the ship, were Twilight and friends.

“Shouldn’t we tell them why we asked for gunships, Twilight?” her dragon friend asks.

“And scare them even more, Spike? It’s just a precaution, don’t worry, what could go wrong?” the alicorn tries to cheer them up.

"Everything," he replied.

Fluttershy said nothing because of the same terror in her gut.

“Two minutes to takeoff. Troops and civilians to your assigned crafts.”

Here they separated, Spike and Fluttershy to a helicopter with the zebra and thestral in it, and Twilight gets on another, where the hippogriff and the changeling are; as they talk while Major Peakard, Trotland and other pilots leave the ship towards their respective aircrafts.

“What has the Major gotten us into now, Thrax?” Rain Docker, the hippogriff, asks.

“Nozing he can’t do,” The changeling says. “He’s leading us zis time.”

“Does he not miss his bed? Cuz I miss mine.” Docker insists. “Don’t you miss yours?”

While Thrax only does routine checks, Twilight just listens their talk.

"Have you even got a bed?”

The changeling stayed silent, scanning the various panels. The buttons only made humming sounds of activation.

“You got a bed, right?”

Peakard, before boarding his aircraft, farewells to Trotland, who goes to the Stallion helicopter.

“Ninety seconds, ninety seconds to takeoff. Pilots, review the action plan,” The loudspeaker announces.

Explosives are rigged, radios are tuned, machine guns are loaded, computers are anchored, crates are hoisted, pilots fasten their seatbelts, soldiers put on their helmets.

Fluttershy takes her last photos, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her, and climbs into the plane. There is Comet Trail as the pilot and Zash as the gunner.

“Clear decks. Take off in minus one,” The loudspeaker announces.

"Battery?"

"Ready."

“Generator?”

“Double ready.”

“Engine start?”

“Thrice ready.”

Turbines began to roar on the deck of the RNMS Strong Hoover, blades spinning faster and faster as deck controllers signaled the commencement of takeoff by circling their backlit wands overhead.

“This is Hydra 1 to Hydra Group. It’s time for your favourite show once again.” Peakard announces over the radio. “As always, folks, Flying Hydras never say die!”

Everyone took a breath.

The signalpony gave his signal and Hydra 1 took off immediately. Followed by Hydra 2 and so on.

Within seconds there were ten Hueys, a Chinook and a Stallion in the air.

“Battle formation. Keep visual.” Peakard orders, then checks his notebook. “Hydra 5, let me know when you're close.”

The aircraft soon arranged themselves into two V formations.

“Hydra 5's in ze slot.” Thrax announces.

"Roger that" —Peakard continues.— “hydra group, form up on me, keep it toghether.”

The nerves were palpable, that storm was no small thing.

Fluttershy, controlling her nerves, takes a final photo of the cloud wall in front of her.

“Let’s do this,” Peakard orders.

The aircrafts immediately tilted forward.

"Hydra 3, niner zero, niner zero," the radio chatter said.

“Maintain course, nothing we haven't done before,” Peakard warns.

Passengers hold on to whatever they can.

“Dear Moonlight” —Docker says over the radio, joking— “you ever looked into a hurricane and decide, ‘Maybe I should fly straight through it’?”

Comet Trail just smiled nervously on the other helicopter.

"Cuz that's boutta happen."

“Dear Moonlight, you might vant to hang on!” Thrax said.

Dark clouds soon surrounded them, turning day into night, illuminated only by lightning.

They soon found themselves in violent turbulence and rain, with crosswinds tossing the aircraft around.

Everyone held on to their seats with all their might.

Alarms sound, propellers spin, helicopters rise and fall; wind shear.

Master control, a light on the panel indicated.

“Hydra 1 to Hydra group, switch to inertial navigation.”

The revolutions per minute markers increased again. Pilots were fighting the cycling.

“Remember the Minotaur myth of Icarus, whose father gave him wings made of wax,” Peakard says.

The helicopters were gaining altitude again. The metal is trembling, struggling to keep up against the forces of nature.

“And warned him not to fly not too close to the sun.”

The helicopters continued to waver, struggling to get back into formation, thriving through the torrential rain outside of the cabins.

“But his exhilaration was too great.”

The knots per hour were now decreasing. Thunder illuminated the passengers. The helicoper loses lift.

“And Icarus flew higher and higher.”

They pulled up the collective pitch lever before Hydra 5 falls further. Twilight felt lighter, pure dread in her guts, as the helicopter lost altitude.

“Until his wings melted.”

Hydra 5 loses altitude. They meed more power, Thrax pulled the lever as hard a he could.

“And fell into the sea.”

Hydra 5 recovered, speed increased.

“But the United Ponies Alliance Army is not an irresponsible father, gentlecreatures,” Peakard continued determinedly. “They've given us white hot, cold rolled Aris steel...”

The alarms continue to ring, the cyclic pitch lever is becoming more and more difficult to control.

“Guaranteed not to melt.”

The Queen Novo figure on the board became increasingly agitated.

Suddenly everything was white.

Author's Note

What a cliffhanger, isn't it?