Burnt Brick glanced to the ornate clock on the seminar room wall as it chimed midnight. Its soft tones were barely audible over the laughter and animated conversation. A few empty cider bottles littered the desk, evidence of the hours that had passed since the formal meeting concluded. The atmosphere had shifted from tense introductions to something almost companionable, aided by the measured application of Equestria's finest apple brew.

Captain Hammerhead leaned back in his chair. His typically stern demeanor was softened by the late hour and perhaps the cider. “Alright, you lot,” he announced. “One last order of business before we call it a night.”

Burnt Brick, sprawled across two chairs with his hooves propped up on the desk, raised an eyebrow. “What’s that, Cap? Gonna make us run laps around the campus?”

Lady Martha tittered, the pearls around her neck clinking softly as she shook her head. "Oh, Mr. Brick, speak for yourself. Some of us aren’t built for such activities."

Clear Melody bounced slightly in her seat. “Oh, is it a team-building exercise? I love those!”

Hammerhead chuckled. The sound seemed to surprise even him. “Not quite, Miss Melody. We’ve discussed the plan. Now I need to make sure you all understand how much risk we’re taking here.”

Chairs creaked as Burnt Brick shifted his weight to sit up.

“Captain, Captain, pick me! I got something for this!”

Hammerhead put his hoof to his forehead.

“Yes, Mr. Brick?”

“Back in my good old construction days, we used to play this game for each project. It’s a tradition.”

Not waiting for an answer, Burnt Brick stood up and walked up to the chalkboard. Two and a half pairs of eyes were focused on him.

“Here are the rules. We take turns coming up with threats to our project. The bigger, the badder, the better.” He tapped the desk for emphasis. “If we can’t find a way to mitigate your threat? You win. Got it?”

Lady Martha cleared her throat.

“A touch morbid, don’t you think, Mr. Brick? But I can see why it has become a tradition. By imagining the worst, we might just prevent it. Plus, we learn how the others think and how they approach problem-solving. So. Let’s play.”

The two pegasi hesitated and looked at each other. After a moment, they turned to him again and nodded in unison.

Burnt Brick pointed at Captain Hammerhead. “Hammy, you’re up. What’s gonna kill us out there?”

“Don’t call me that. Ever.” Hammerhead pressed his lips into a thin line. Still, he went on.

“The cold,” he said. “It’s not just discomfort. It’s a predator, always waiting. It’ll freeze our water, our supplies. Us.” His gaze swept the room.

“I’ve seen strong stallions reduced to shivering wrecks, unable to think, unable to move. It’s a silent killer, and it never rests.”

“Great start. Okay, team, how do we handle the cold?” Burnt Brick picked up a piece of chalk and drew a crude snowflake onto the chalkboard while he was talking.

Lady Martha and Clear Melody exchanged a musing look before Martha signaled to Burnt Brick.

“In our previous expeditions to Yakyakistan, we made sure to always have two independent heat sources available.” Martha put two empty cider cups on the table in front of her.

“It’s quite simple,” she continued. She nudged a cup with her hoof. “An ordinary heat source—coal, in our case.” She tapped the other cup. “And a secondary one. If one of them fails, we’re not left freezing.”

She paused, a sly smile crossing her muzzle. “And here’s a little trick: we’ll use the airship’s lift gas as secondary fuel instead of a thaumic heat source. Can’t have magic near those finicky crystals, after all.”

Burnt Brick whistled. “Somejenny’s done her homework.”

Lady Martha’s smile faltered. A shadow crossed her face. “It’s a becoming quality to be prepared,” she began with her typical poise, but then her voice grew distant. “We learned that lesson the hard way, my dears.”

She swallowed hard. “It was during an expedition north. When our magical heat source failed, the cold... it crept in slowly at first. Like death on velvet hooves.

“We huddled together in the dark, six of us, listening to each other’s breathing grow slower and slower. Praying to Celestia that the gas would last until dawn.”

Clear Melody’s wings drew tight against her sides as she studied the floor with sudden fascination. Hammerhead’s chair creaked under his shifting weight, the sound unnaturally loud in the silent room.

Lady Martha turned to examine a blank patch of wall. Her outward calmness was betrayed by the stiff set of her shoulders. The ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder with each passing second.

Brick watched them all. He lifted the chalk with exaggerated care, as if handling explosives. Then, with the dramatic flair of a conductor about to start an orchestra, he dragged it across the chalkboard’s surface. The chalk screamed against the slate like a cat in a thunderstorm. Melody winced; ears flattened against her head. The captain’s face snapped towards the source of the noise.

“Great job, Lady Martha. You’re up. Hit us.”

Martha collected herself. She resumed an amused, slightly mocking expression and spoke with a clear voice.

“Picture this: we’ve finally reached our destination, braving blizzards and treacherous ice. We begin to set up our base camp, but as we do, we realize we’ve disturbed an ancient yak burial ground. Our yak workers refuse to continue, citing cultural taboos. We’re left without their support.”

Burnt Brick nodded. He sketched something on the chalkboard that bore only a vague resemblance to a yak. Still, he was proud of it.

“Yaks refusing to work,” Burnt Brick said. “What does our deal with them look like anyway? We paying them or what?”

The captain answered.

“It’s complicated. These yaks owe Princess Luna a debt. An old one.” He scratched his chin. “This project is their chance to wipe the slate clean and rid themselves of it.”

Clear Melody’s ears pricked up and her wings flopped open.

“Our Princess Luna visited the yaks? What did she do? Did she help them with a friendship problem? Did she help them with dream magic?” The words came out of her so fast that Burnt Brick had trouble keeping up.

“Not exactly. I don’t know the details myself. From what I understand, this debt has great significance to our shaggy friends in the north,” the captain replied.

“I concur. From our experience, yaks take their debts very seriously. I’m certain they will honor it,” Lady Martha said.

This was good. Burnt Brick could feel the team getting into a rhythm.

“Alright,” he said with a mischievous grin. He drew a wiggly clock-face on the chalkboard. “I’ll pick time.”

Clear Melody pushed back her chair and stood up.

“Time? Let me make sure I understand our options,” she said. “Plan A is simple—we finish the project this summer and catch our scheduled pickup when the airships can still fly north.”

She glanced at the others for confirmation before continuing. “And if we need more time, Plan B is to skip the pickup. The project’s heat output would keep us warm through winter. We’d just need to stretch our supplies and grow some food until next summer’s airships arrive. That’s feasible, right?”

Brick saw the captain and the jenny exchange concerned looks. Martha spoke carefully.

“That’s correct, but there’s a risk we’re not addressing. What happens if we decline the pickup, but then can’t get the project running before winter sets in?”

“But why would we make that choice?” Clear Melody's voice rose slightly. “If we’re so far behind schedule, we’d just take the pickup and try again next year. And anyway, our timeline has plenty of padding.”

Burnt Brick chuckled darkly. “On paper, sure.” He scuffed a hoof on the floor. “But out there, in that frozen wasteland? Celestia’s sun, anything could throw us off track.”

Also, do you really think we’d get another chance next year if we fuck this up?

He saw defiance in Melody. Good. The filly had some fight in her.

“In that case, maybe the yaks can get us out?”

Hammerhead breathed out noisily through his nostrils.

“Trekking through the Frozen North in autumn? Yeah, yaks can probably do that. But us ponies? We wouldn’t last a week.”

“What… what about the princesses? They can get us out! You said you’ll be in contact with Princess Luna,” Clear Melody challenged him.

“I’ve asked Her Highness the same question. Unfortunately, there are things even she can’t do. She might be able to get there in time, but getting all of us out?” The captain shook his head.

Brick watched Melody as the implications sank in. For once, her smile faltered. Burnt Brick even noticed a slight tremble in her lower lip. A sudden pang of guilt took him by surprise.

“I understand,” was the only thing she said in response.

The mood in the room had shifted. Everypony was looking at the ceiling, the floor or the walls. Burnt Brick was the one to break the silence.

“Time. Bummer. We’ll just have to not be slow. How hard can that be?”

He threw a piece of chalk at Clear Melody. It missed, but still snapped her out of it.

“Kid, you’re up. What else is gonna do us in?”

She looked at him for a moment before answering with just a single word.

“Me.”

“You…? Say what?”

Clear Melody’s wings drooped. “It’s... it’s the crystals,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We’re bringing them almost ready, but inert. I’ll have to activate them.” She swallowed hard. “But they’re so delicate. One wrong move and...” She mimed an explosion with her hooves.

Lowered head, slumped shoulders. Burnt Brick could almost see the burden of responsibility pulling the pegasus down, sitting on top of her with an unimaginable weight.

“How big of an explosion are we talking, anyway?”

Surely it couldn’t be that bad.

“Large enough that it’s good we’re very, very far away from any kind of civilization.”

“Oh.”

Clear Melody’s wings trembled. “I dream about it. One tiny miscalculation, one second of distraction, and…”

Her voice broke. “I could be responsible for all of your…”

She didn’t finish the sentence.

Burnt Brick decided on a final, desperate charge.

“That might be true. But you know what? You won’t mess up.”

“How do you know that?” Clear Melody was looking down. “No offense, Mr. Brick, but I doubt you know anything about these crystals.”

“Hey, kid.” He waited until she met his eyes. “The princesses could’ve picked somepony else, but they didn’t. They picked you. Not your mother, not some other egghead from the university, not some crystal guru from Celestia-knows-where. You.”

He tapped her lightly on the muzzle. “They believe in you. Maybe it’s time you did too, huh?”

At once, she straightened herself and studied him like she was looking for something.

“But Mr. Brick, there aren’t many ponies that can hear the crystals like I can. Also, you only had unkind words for the princesses until now. Why would you trust their judgment?”

Burnt Brick took a step away from her and gave a flamboyant bow that wouldn’t have looked out of place at the royal court.

“What do I know? I’m just the director of this circus. I’m here to catch the blame if the clowns blow something up.” He winked at her. “You trust them enough that you joined this project. Also trust them in choosing you.”

Like a sunrise, a smile found its way back onto Clear Melody’s face. It certainly belonged there. She had looked so very wrong without it.

Stepping back towards the chalkboard, Burnt Brick continued.

“Cold, yaks, time, exploding crystals… anypony got anything else they want to talk about?”

“Dear, we’re all missing the forest for the trees,” Lady Martha began, her voice cutting through the room. She strode to the chalkboard, each step deliberate.

As she turned to face the group, hard lines drew a stern expression onto her muzzle.

“Isolation,” she said, the word hanging in the air like a death knell. “Months in the frozen wasteland, cut off from the world. It can drive even the sanest pony to the brink.”

Lady Martha’s gaze swept across the room, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. “I’ve seen trade missions crumble into anarchy,” she continued.

She paused, collecting herself. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger, but Burnt Brick sensed an undercurrent of fear. “Out there, in that vast white emptiness, the silence becomes a living thing. It whispers to you, preys on your fears, amplifies every doubt.”

The jenny began to pace, her hooves clicking against the stone floor. “You see, my dears, it’s not just the cold or the danger that changes us. It’s the crushing weight of isolation. I don’t know how to explain it fully, but when you’re out there… you become different.”

She stopped, turning back to face the group. “All the niceties of Canterlot society, the polite smiles, the careful courtesies—they’re a veneer. A thin coat of paint over our baser instincts.”

Lady Martha tapped her hoof. “Five minutes,” she said, the words sharp. “That’s all it takes in the Frozen North. Five bad minutes, and I guarantee you’ll see ponies—good, civilized ponies—descend into savagery.”

The room fell silent as her words sank in and Burnt Brick found himself grudgingly impressed. That jenny certainly had a talent for showponyship. He made a mental note to steal some of her tricks. The gravity of her warning, however, left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Brick shot a sideways glance towards Melody. Expecting fear and shock in her face, he was surprised to see her resting in her chair with a calm expression. There was even that sunny smile. Curious.

“She’s right, you know,” Hammerhead cut in, interrupting Brick’s thoughts. “Been there during my time with the griffons. Good birds they were as well. Good soldiers.”

The captain shook his massive head, while staring off into some unseen distance.

“But something out there… it just turns you nuts.”

Seeing the forlorn expression on Hammerhead’s face did nothing to soften the knot in Burnt Brick’s guts.

“Anypony got ideas on how we can deal with that?” he tried lamely.

Looking into the faces of his team, he knew that this was a danger they couldn’t prepare for. Not really.

“Just try to keep your head on straight,” Hammerhead said.

“Great advice as always, Cap.” Burnt Brick rolled his eyes. “Do we have anything else, or should we call it a rest?”

“It’s very late, dear, and we will be on a difficult journey together soon. I think it might be best to get some rest. Don’t you think?” Lady Martha answered, half-yawning at the end.

Nopony objected. After cleaning up the room and turning off the lights, Burnt Brick looked back once more.

How many times had he dozed off in these very seats, dreaming of the buildings he would create? He wondered if this had been his last visit to the old university.

The empty corridors echoed with their hoofsteps as they made their way outside. The night air hit them like a splash of cold water after the stuffy seminar room. It carried the sweet scent of late spring. Canterlot’s streets lay empty before them. Cobblestones gleamed under Luna’s moon like scattered coins. In the distance, the castle’s spires pierced the star-studded sky, their golden surfaces catching and reflecting the light.

Clear Melody and Lady Martha bid their goodbyes, their voices unnaturally loud in the quiet night. Burnt Brick watched them trot off, their shadows dancing across the buildings.

He was about to follow when he felt a heavy hoof on his shoulder. The weight of it seemed to anchor him to the spot.

“A moment.”

The captain was wearing his signature stoic expression. Burnt Brick countered with an overly enthusiastic grin.

“Of course, Cappy, for you—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Burnt Brick let the grin drop and pouted at the captain.

“I can’t call you Hammy, I can’t call you Cappy, what can I call you?”

“Captain Hammerhead would be appropriate. In the very distant future, I could see a world in which just ‘Hammerhead’ could be acceptable.”

With a quick snort, Brick bumped Hammerhead’s shoulder. It was like pushing against a mountain.

“You know, I never know when you’re serious or when you’re pulling my leg. I love that about you. Still, what do your friends, family, comrades, or whatever call you?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified, Mr. Brick.”

Burnt Brick snorted again.

As he leaned in to inspect the captain’s muzzle, he thought he could see just the tiniest hint of a smile playing on Hammerhead’s face. The scars made it hard to tell though.

“Oh, you old goofball, almost got me there.” He looked towards the sleeping city. “The others are gone now. What did you want to talk about?”

Burnt Brick saw the sigh coming before he heard it. By now, he knew that sigh. Something was bothering the old soldier and it was about to come out.

Hammerhead’s good eye fixed on Burnt Brick, searching.

“So,” he said, his voice unusually quiet. “You’ve seen the plan. Met the team.” He paused, seeming to weigh his next words.

“What’s your read on all this? The project, the expedition. All of it.”

Burnt Brick clicked his tongue and looked towards the sky.

“This isn’t an expedition. This is a funeral procession.”

This had no immediate effect on the captain. He just nodded before replying.

“I see.”

Burnt Brick remained silent and turned his head to look at the pegasus. Something was off. Underneath the scars, underneath the emotionless mask, some turmoil was brewing.

Hammerhead’s eye flickered. Burnt Brick suspected there was a storm of emotions passing behind it. The captain’s jaw clenched and unclenched. But then, as quickly as it had come, the moment vanished. His features smoothed over, the familiar mask of stoicism sliding back in place like a shield.

The captain turned his gaze away. Nodding again, he repeated.

“I see.”

The pale light of dawn was just beginning to chase away the last shadows as Burnt Brick and his team arrived at the Canterlot docks. The air was thick with the scent of Everfree timber. A cacophony of creaking wood filled the air.

But as they rounded the corner, all other sights and sounds faded into the background.

There, moored at the far end of the dock, hovered the Audacity.

Burnt Brick’s jaw dropped as he took in the magnificent and bizarre contraption before him. It was unlike any airship he’d ever seen.

Its reinforced balloon was separated into four compartments and painted so that it blended in with the sky. The polished hull gleamed in the morning light. Its sleek lines were a far cry from the bulbous passenger ships that usually graced Canterlot’s skies. Intricate patterns of crystals studded the hull’s surface.

“Well, I’ll be a diamond dog’s uncle,” Burnt Brick muttered, his professional interest piqued. “They really went all out on this one.”

As they drew closer, he could see more of the ship’s unconventional design. Seams ran along its length, subtle but unmistakable to his trained eye. This wasn’t just a ship; it was a giant, floating puzzle box.

“Look at those join lines,” he said, more to himself than the others. “This is where the whole thing is meant to come apart. Clever. Real clever.”

Lady Martha sidled up beside him. Where he had decided on a worn, sturdy work vest with numerous pockets, she had opted for a tailored flight suit in a rich, deep purple, with golden trim along the seams. Where he had donned a bandana, ready to pull up over his muzzle, she had chosen a jaunty aviator’s cap, complete with goggles that could be put on at a moment’s notice.

She smiled broadly. “You should have told me that you needed a new outfit for our trip. I would have gladly provided.”

Burnt Brick ignored her, focusing on the ship. He could see how each section could be repurposed. The hull could form shelter walls. The internal struts? Perfect for scaffolding. Even the balloon fabric could be used for insulation or waterproofing in a pinch.

“It's beautiful,” Clear Melody breathed. The young pegasus wore a pale blue flight suit that allowed for easy movement of her wings. It was adorned with small, shimmering crystals in a pattern reminiscent of her cutie mark. A utility belt rounded her waist, filled with delicate tools Brick didn’t recognize.

“It’s a death trap,” Burnt Brick countered, but there was no real heat in his words. Despite himself, he was impressed. Whoever had designed this thing knew their stuff.

Captain Hammerhead stepped forward. “This is more than just our ride north,” he said, his voice carrying a note of respect. “This is our lifeline. Our home. Our tools. Everything we need, all in one package.”

The captain wore a navy-blue uniform that was almost black. Silver accents denoted his rank. It was obviously made of tough, weather-resistant material, built to withstand the harshest conditions. Curiously, insignias of both the Royal and the Night Guard adorned his shoulders.

Burnt Brick nodded grudgingly. “Yeah, yeah. Real marvel of engineering. How are we going to fly this thing without a crew again?”

Clear Melody’s eyes lit up. “The crystals in the hull are charged with navigational spell matrices that will carry us along the ley lines...”

Burnt Brick’s attention wavered as she delved into the technical details. His gaze drifted back to the Audacity, its sleek form bobbing gently in the morning mist. After the dungeons, the sight stirred something in him. Freedom. Possibility.

He tuned back in just as Clear Melody was wrapping up her explanation. “... so, with some minor corrections, it will essentially fly itself.”

“Alright then,” Hammerhead announced, already striding towards the gangplank. “Let’s board. We have a difficult journey ahead of us.”

The wood underneath their steps gave a welcoming creak. Burnt Brick felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. For a moment, he could almost forget the circumstances that had brought him there.

Once they were all aboard, Burnt Brick straightened up. His demeanor shifted from awestruck observer to leader.

“Right,” he said, his voice carrying across the deck. “Time to get organized. Lady Martha, I want you on helm duty.”

Her eyes gleamed as they swept over the controls, taking in every detail.

“Well now,” she murmured. “This is a fine piece of work.”

She moved with practiced ease, her hooves ghosting over levers and dials. “Ballast controls for ascent.”

“Gas vents for descent. And this beauty,” she added, resting a leg on the polished wheel, “for steering.” Martha turned to face the others, her eyes sparkling. She lifted her chin. “It’s remarkably intuitive. Clearly designed for use, even in... let’s say, less than ideal circumstances.”

She trotted over to an ornate star chart mounted nearby. “Of course, with the magical navigation system, we shouldn’t need to rely on manual control. But it’s comforting to know we can if needed.”

Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “After all, one can never be too prepared when venturing into the unknown.”

Burnt Brick considered her. This was a far cry from the prim and proper lady he’d first met. Here, surrounded by nautical instruments and the promise of adventure, Lady Martha seemed... well, in her element. Her focus remained entirely on the ship, as if the social niceties of the world below no longer applied.

“Just try not to crash it.” He pulled away from Martha.

“Clear Melody.” Burnt Brick turned to the young pegasus. His tone softened almost imperceptibly.

“I need you to run a thorough inventory on the crystals. Check, double-check, and triple-check that everything is secure and accounted for. Make sure you have everything you need. We can improvise with other supplies, but not with those crystals. Without them, we’re screwed.”

Melody’s eyes dropped for a fraction of a second. But then she squared her shoulders, her wings giving a determined flutter. “I understand, Mr. Brick. You can count on me!”

With a quick salute that was half playful, half serious, she took off towards the cargo hold in the belly of the ship.

Burnt Brick watched her go. The kid had spirit, he had to give her that.

Finally, Brick turned to Hammerhead and shook his head. “And what are we going to do with you? Can you cook?”

The pegasus didn’t react.

“Good enough. You’ll prepare our meals and fly patrols around the airship. I mostly trust Lady Martha on the wheel. Still, let’s make sure we don’t ram anything. And keep an eye out for bad weather.”

To Brick’s surprise, Hammerhead didn’t object. On the contrary, the pegasus simply gave a curt nod and said, “Aye.”

Burned Brick raised his chin.

“Aye… what?”

The captain leveled him with a stare worthy of twice the eyes he actually had. “You are our construction manager, nothing else.”

“I’m the manager for this project, which puts me in charge of this ship, which makes me a…?”

“… captain,” Hammerhead conceded.

“You know, since we are both captains now, I think I can already relate to you much better. I think this might be the start of a wonderful friendship.”

Hammerhead raised his eyebrow.

“And what about you, ‘Captain’ Brick?” he asked, his tone hovering between amusement and exasperation. “What vital role will you be playing on this journey?”

“Why, I’ll be shouldering the heavy burden of responsibility, of course.”

Hammerhead’s eyebrow threatened to disappear into his mane. His silence spoke volumes.

“Oh, come on.” Burnt Brick snorted. “If you must know, I’ll also be doing an inventory check and running calculations. I want to know exactly what we have, down to the last nail and thread. And y’know. How long it’ll last us.”

“We received a detailed inventory beforehand.”

Burnt Brick chuckled and patted Hammerhead on the back.

“My friend, you have obviously never worked in construction. These things are never accurate.”

“Aye, skipper.”

Brick trotted to the bow and planted himself firmly on the deck. He watched as the ropes binding the Audacity to the ground were untied. The familiar sounds of Canterlot—the chatter of ponies, the clatter of hooves on cobblestone—faded away as the ship ascended. He watched as the gleaming spires of the capital grew smaller, feeling a strange mix of relief and trepidation.

“Well, no turning back now,” he muttered to himself.

The Audacity picked up speed, cutting through the air with barely a whisper. Brick knew they were guided along invisible magical currents by the crystals embedded in the hull.

Clear Melody walked up to him, her mane whipping in the wind, expression filled with wonder.

Turning to her, he said, “I’m curious. What has he offered you?”

Melody tilted her head. “Who offered me what?”

Rolling his eyes, Burning Brick explained, “Hammerhead. What has he offered you in exchange for your work with this project?”

She tilted her head even further. “I’m being compensated for my time very generously. I told him that wasn’t necessary, but he insisted.”

Burnt Brick rolled his own head back and gave a roaring laugh.

He waited for her to join in but noticed that she wasn’t laughing. He took a moment to study her. “Oh, you’re serious?”

An even more intense fit of laughter shook him. Tears started to well up.

“Dear Luna, they really cheaped out on you, didn’t they? You’re risking your life for nothing?”

Clear Melody took a step back and unfolded her wings. “For nothing? We’re helping to protect Equestria! We’re helping the princesses! What could be more reward than that?”

Suddenly, Burnt Brick didn’t feel like laughing anymore. His heart contracted painfully. Clear Melody’s attitude reminded him too much of another pegasus he had once known. Another pegasus with big dreams and a big heart. It reminded him of a time when he too hadn’t been so jaded.

He briefly put a hoof on her shoulder. “You know what, kid? I suppose you’re right.”

“Isn’t it amazing, Mr. Brick?” she breathed, her wings fluttering. “We’re really doing this!”

Burnt Brick snorted.

“Yeah, kid. We’re really doing this.” He paused, looking out at the landscape speeding by below them. “Hope you’re ready for what comes next.”

As if on cue, the ship banked sharply, sending both of them stumbling. Burnt Brick caught himself on the railing, while Clear Melody took to the air with a startled yelp.

“What in Celestia’s f—” Brick started, but was cut off by Lady Martha’s cultured tones, now tinged with exhilaration.

“Sorry about that, dear!” she called from the helm, not sounding sorry at all. “Just testing the responsiveness. She handles like a dream!”

“If we lose the ley lines because of your ‘testing’, I’ll make you scrub the deck until your hooves bleed,” he barked back.

He could see Captain Hammerhead on the upper deck, whose expression betrayed just a hint of alarm at Lady Martha’s piloting.

As they leveled out, Brick’s thoughts shifted to his crew. Lady Martha, who’d faced down death in the frozen wastes and lived to talk about it over cider. Not just some prissy socialite—a survivor who knew the dangers she was flying into. Clear Melody, so young and yet an expert in her field. She faced the world with optimism and a quiet strength that put his cynicism to shame. Hammerhead, that walking statue of a pegasus. Veteran of many excursions out of Equestria and more heart than his stern exterior would suggest.

Brick grinned to himself. When had that happened? When had these ponies stopped being the princesses’ pawns and become… well, a team? His team. Each of them bringing something vital to this impossible mission. Celestia help him, he had actually started to believe in them.

He had a great team. He had amazing equipment. He had an unbelievable mission. Nothing could go wrong.

“Something’s wrong!”

Burnt Brick banged his forehead on the bulkhead as he snapped awake.

“What in the… fuck?” he groaned. Squinting through groggy eyes, he could barely make out the petite shape of Clear Melody standing in front of him. Her wings were quivering.

“Captain Hammerhead came back from his morning patrol. There’s bad weather ahead. Really, really bad weather.”

They had sailed between Cloudsdale and Neighagra Falls that night. Out here, the weather wasn’t managed anymore.

“Alright, alright, alright.” Burnt Brick peeled himself out of bed. With a clever rope contraption installed in the cabin, he rang out an emergency meeting.

After only a few minutes, the team had gathered in the chart room. The cramped chamber was eerily quiet—the magical engines that powered their journey were silent as starlight. Crystals in the bulkheads cast long shadows across the polished floorboards. Hammerhead, Martha and Melody were looking at Brick for guidance, their faces half-hidden in the dim light. It was game time, and he knew the rules: succeed or die trying.

“Hammerhead, report,” Brick commanded.

“Thunderstorm, about 150 nautical miles ahead of us and moving in our direction at about thirty knots. At least a multicell, possibly supercell,” Hammerhead announced without delay, looking straight ahead.

“Good job. Martha, report.”

“We’re slow cruising at fifty knots, so that we can fly patrols. The Audacity is perfectly on course and still anchored to the ley lines. We are fourteen minutes ahead of schedule.”

Burnt Brick tapped his chin. “That gives us around two hours. Team, what are our options?”

Clear Melody raised a wing. “We could fly around it.”

Burnt Brick shook his head. “Good suggestion, but I don’t like it. We’d spend too much of our energy and lose our navigational lock.”

The jenny stepped forward. “That would be an issue indeed. I can only navigate by the stars. If we get a cloudy night, there’s not much I can do.

“However, we have plenty of ballast and the landscape below is even. Let’s vent some lift gas and hunker down on the ground. We’ll wait a few hours until the storm blows over, drop our ballast, and off we go.”

“Thanks, but I don’t like it either. The storm would still hit us on the ground.” Burnt Brick bit his lip and tapped on the deck.

“Besides,” Hammerhead chimed in, “we’d also lose much of our lift gas and ballast. Remember, the gas is also our emergency fuel.”

“We’d also waste time,” Brick added. “Each hour we spend here is one hour less we have in the north until summer’s over.”

Suddenly, an idea popped into Brick’s head.

“We can’t go through, we can’t dodge it on the side, we can’t go below… what if we go over?”

The team stared at him incredulously, but Burnt Brick looked towards the sky ahead.

Clear Melody was the first to speak again, eyes fixed on Brick.

“Going over would cost us much less gas and ballast. We could also fly faster up there,” she said.

“Hammerhead, how high does the storm reach, do you think?” Brick asked.

“About fifty thousand feet, but the most severe parts of a storm are usually in the lower and middle portions.”

“Martha, you’ve read the manual. How high can this thing go?”

“Maximum altitude for the Audacity is forty thousand feet. Just high enough that we might be able to avoid the worst of the storm, I suppose.”

“But,” Clear Melody cut in, “we can’t breathe at that altitude. Not even us pegasi.”

Damn.

Burnt Brick looked around the chart room, as if something there could help him out of this dilemma. As his gaze wandered over the insulation, another idea hit him.

“I’ve worked with this kind of insulation.” He rapped the bulkhead. “Not only can it keep the cold out, with a few tweaks, we could make it keep air in.”

“Look, dearie. This is a fabulous plan, but don’t you think it’s too risky? Hitting a storm was extremely unfortunate. Trying to overfly it would put us in a lot of danger.”

“What would you have us do instead?” Brick asked.

“Let’s turn around, outrun the storm.” Martha sighed. “Contact Canterlot. Get our gas, ballast and engine crystals recharged. It would cost us a couple of days.”

Melody spoke up. “What about our yak friends? Will they wait for us if we’re late?”

Martha breathed a second, even deeper sigh. “Yaks honor their debts, but they also tend to be the impatient sort. There’s... no telling if they’ll still be there.”

Brick shook his head. “I hate it. But you’re the aviator and it’s not just my life. If you think it’s too risky, maybe we should turn around.”

With a shrug, Martha added, “If the yaks are gone when we arrive, Captain Hammerhead will contact the princess and—”

“No!” Hammerhead stomped down. Burnt Brick felt the room vibrate in response. “The princesses entrusted us with this mission, and you want to give up at the first hurdle?!”

Crystal Melody started into the air with a yelp at his sudden outburst but collected herself quickly.

“I also think we should try. The princesses believe in us!” she pleaded.

“Fine, fine.” Lady Martha raised a hoof. “But I want you to understand that if we can’t make this ship airtight and we run out of air up there…”

She finished by slowly dragging her hoof across her neck.

The team turned back to Brick.

“Listen up. Here’s the plan. We slow down the ship. Let’s say… twenty knots.” He exchanged a glance with Lady Martha.

“Everypony works double to make the chart room airtight until we’re 110% sure of it. About half an hour before we hit the storm, we start ascending and hit full speed ahead. Martha, how fast can we go?”

The jenny answered without hesitation. “One hundred knots. At that altitude? Maybe 120.”

“Good enough. We need to calculate beforehand exactly how much ballast we need to drop. All the controls are outside. Once we hunker down, we can’t make adjustments anymore.”

His team was focused on him, hanging on every word. Their eyes glittered with determination. Burnt Brick continued.

“We’ll wait out the storm in here.”

“One question, fearless captain,” Lady Martha said. “How will we descend again? As you noted, the controls for the lift gas are outside.”

Burnt Brick sighed. That was a problem.

“One of us will have to go outside and vent the gas,” Captain Hammerhead answered for him.

“Yes, and that pony will be me,” Clear Melody announced, stomping on the deck in apparent imitation of Hammerhead’s gesture, but with little effect.

Everypony turned to her. Hammerhead lifted a hoof.

“No, no. I was thinking about myself. You are not expendable.”

“Nopony is expendable!” She stomped again. “I’m quicker than you and you know it.”

Burnt Brick nodded reluctantly. “She does have a point. If she runs out of air and conks out, you can get her back inside. If the same happens to you… what’s she gonna do?”

For emphasis, he lifted one of Melody’s slim wings into the air and let it drop. “Martha and I can’t help you either, we haven’t got pegasus lungs.”

Hammerhead grumbled something to himself but offered no further disagreement.

“Alright, everypony. This isn’t an order. We’ll only do this if the whole team agrees.”

Brick glanced towards Martha. He saw the pegasi do the same.

“What are you all looking at me for?” the jenny protested. “This plan is incredibly difficult, insanely risky and impossibly spectacular. Let’s do it.”

He shot her a look that questioned both her sanity and his own.

“My dear, for me this is just business. There is no profit without risk.”

The next hour was a flurry of activity aboard the Audacity. Burnt Brick directed operations with the precision of a seasoned foreman. He felt absolutely in the zone, shooting rapid-fire instructions every which way. Just like in the good old days.

“Martha, check every seal twice! Melody, I need those pressure calculations yesterday! Hammerhead, secure everything that isn’t nailed down—and if it isn’t, start nailing! And I want everypony in their thickest winter gear, it’s gonna get real cold up there!”

The rest of the team worked in near silence. A growing sense of anticipation settled over the ship.

Brick himself was moving from station to station, checking work, offering advice, and making last-minute adjustments. His hooves flew over joints and seams, his experienced eye catching potential weak points that others might have missed.

As they neared completion, Clear Melody approached him. Her wings twitched nervously.

“Mr. Brick,” she began, her voice quiet but determined, “I’ve triple-checked all the engine crystals and the crystals in storage. They should be secure, but...”

Burnt Brick paused in his work, turning to give her his full attention. “But what, kid?”

“Well, we’ve never tested them under these conditions. Extreme altitude, rapid pressure changes... I’m not sure how they’ll react.”

Burnt Brick considered.

“Good thinking. Any way to stabilize them further?”

Clear Melody’s face lit up. “Yes. Project Eternity will use crystal overflow batteries to stabilize the system. They sort of suck up any excess of emotional and magical energy. If I activate some of them, they will provide additional safety.”

“The catch?”

“They’re a bit…” Melody was drawing circles in the air with her wing, obviously looking for words. “… weird. If we activate them in isolation and not as part of the whole system, they might break.”

“Do it,” Burnt Brick said without hesitation. “And kid? Good catch.”

Clear Melody trotted off, wings held high with pride. Burnt Brick allowed himself a small smile. The kid was proving her worth, no doubt about that.

His reflection was cut short by Lady Martha. “Captain, I've gone over Melody’s calculations. We’ll need to drop precisely 2,138 pounds of ballast to reach optimal altitude.”

Burnt Brick whistled low. “You sure about those numbers?”

Lady Martha’s eyes glinted. “My dear, I’ve traveled through the Frozen North’s most treacherous passes. I assure you: these calculations are impeccable.”

“Alright, alright,” Burnt Brick conceded, holding up a hoof in mock surrender. “Just remember, if we end up in the stratosphere, I’m blaming you.”

As the final preparations were made, a palpable tension settled over the ship. Burnt Brick surveyed his team. Clear Melody had just finished some last-minute adjustments to the crystals. Lady Martha stood at the helm, her usual poise tempered by a hint of excitement. And Hammerhead... well, the stoic captain looked as impassive as ever, but there was a subtle stiffness in his stance.

“Listen up, team,” Burnt Brick announced, his voice cutting through the silence. “This is it. We’ve got one shot at this, so let’s make it count.”

He paused, making eye contact with each of them in turn. “Martha, drop the ballast and give us full speed ahead!”

A distant rumble of thunder reached their ears. The storm was approaching.

Lady Martha’s hooves moved deftly over the controls. “Aye, aye, Captain. Dropping ballast and full speed ahead!” she said, her voice steady despite the circumstances.

The Audacity began to climb. Its magical engines hummed with increased power. Burnt Brick could see the landscape below growing smaller. And the storm drawing nearer.

He felt his ears pop as the pressure changed. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain calm. “We’ve done what we can. Gather in the chart room and let’s seal that door.”

Another rumble of thunder, louder this time. A wall of dark clouds loomed ahead, shot through with veins of lightning. This got everypony moving. In minutes, the team had gathered in the chart room. They worked together, applying generous quantities of insulation material to seal the door.

It was hard to keep balance as the Audacity climbed. Through the sealed walls, the noise of the storm could only be heard as muffled growls. Nothing, however, stopped the violent jerks as the ship was tossed around by the wind like a toy.

“Celestia’s mane,” Clear Melody whispered, her eyes wide.

Lady Martha placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Steady now, Miss Melody. I’ve been through much worse storms and came out alright.”

Melody nodded, squaring her shoulders. “Really?”

The jenny only coughed, but Burnt Brick thought he could hear a mumbled “No” in there.

“Mr. Brick?” Crystal Melody turned to him abruptly. “Why were you in jail?”

Burnt Brick took a step back and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Finally, he managed to say, “W-why are you bringing this up now?”

Delay. Deflect. Distract.

“I wanted to ask on the bow, but then Lady Martha made that maneuver…” she answered, a slight blush creeping into her face.

“I really don’t think this is the right time.”

The jenny interjected with a coy smile. “What else is there to do right now, Captain Brick? All we can do is wait until we pass over, pass out or get obliterated by this storm.”

Just then, an especially violent gust shoved the airship. Both Burnt Brick and Lady Martha fell over, while the pegasi were able to stabilize themselves with their wings.

Not bothering to stand up, Brick looked up at Melody from his undignified position on the ground.

“Let’s just not talk about it right now, okay?”

“But I’m also curious,” chirped Lady Martha. “And since you are leading this expedition, I think we do have a right to know.”

“Look, somepony did something horrible to my partner.” A great anger was welling up inside Burnt Brick.

“But these assholes from the guard”—he glanced at Hammerhead and raised his voice with each word—“they didn’t do shit.”

The jenny took a careful step back, obviously surprised. Clear Melody only frowned.

“So, I said ‘fuck it’. Fuck the rich bastards we’re building for. Fuck the Royal Guard. Fuck Canterlot. Fuck the princesses. Fuck all of them!” The words tore from Brick’s throat with increasing fury.

Melody flinched at each sentence, but when he mentioned the princesses, she yelped and covered her face with her wings.

Simultaneously, Hammerhead’s face contracted, and he launched himself towards Brick.

“I don’t care if you want to delude yourself about the accident your partner had. But you will not insult the princesses in my presence!” Hammerhead growled, suddenly standing on top of Burnt Brick and looking down on him, unblinking.

A muffled crack of thunder put emphasis on his warning.

“Or what? You’re gonna beat me up? Look here everypony, he’s gonna beat me—”

Burnt Brick’s world went black.

Author's Note

Special thanks to mellon for their unending patience in editing&proofreading this chapter

Here's a lovely picture of Martha on the helm of the Audacity