In Canterlot Castle, Princess Celestia was in the middle of a discussion with one of her advisers when the throne room doors suddenly flung open as a messenger came charging in, frantically trying to attract her attention. The alabaster alicorn directed a look of utter confusion towards the white-furred Pegasus stallion, whereupon he quickly remembered his manners and bowed respectfully. “Your Highness,” he announced, “I'm afraid I bring bad news from Starswirl Airport in Manehattan. It concerns Lieutenant Flash Sentry, second-in-command at Ponyville Castle.”
“What about him?” asked Celestia.
“The Air Minister has informed me that his plane, Royal Equestrian Airways Flight 759, has come down in the Titanic Ocean,” explained the messenger. “I haven't got the full details yet, but the Constellation in charge of the flight is a complete write-off, and the rescue teams can't find any survivors. Flash's body appears to be missing too.”
Celestia could only stare in dismay, unable to bring herself to terms with this horrific bombshell, and equally unsure how to respond. Surely this couldn't be true, she tried to reason with herself – these Constellation airliners may only have been in service for a few months, but she was well aware of all the rigorous testing they had gone through before production and delivery. For such a well-built and thoroughly proven machine as this to crash so soon in its life was just......unthinkable! But even more heart-wrenching was the realisation that Twilight Sparkle, that most faithful of all her personal students, the one of whom she had grown so fond in all the time she had known the former unicorn, had almost certainly lost the one pony closer to her than those first five friends she had made in Ponyville seven years previously. How would she react to the discovery that her beloved Flash Sentry was gone forever?
The messenger hung his head ruefully. “I don't know what else to say, Your Highness,” he confessed.
Only then did Celestia manage to find her voice. “Does Twilight Sparkle know about this yet?”
“I don't think so, Your Highness. I only received word of the accident less than five minutes ago.”
Celestia responded with an understanding nod and turned to the scribe. “Raven Quill, take a letter.”
“Are you sure you want to be sending one so soon, Your Highness?” asked Raven Quill doubtfully. “There's still a fair bit of searching to be done out there, after all. You never know – Lieutenant Sentry might yet have survived.”
“I'm aware of that, Raven Quill,” stated Celestia, “but the fact remains that he's missing, and whether or not he has been killed, Mother forbid, then Twilight will have to know sooner or later. I repeat, take a letter.”
Raven Quill sighed and did as he was told; but even though he tried to focus his full attention to the letter, even he couldn't help but detect a tone of deep sorrow in Celestia's voice as she dictated her message to him. Not that he could blame her either – having to break the news to somepony else that a friend or a relative had passed away, the silver-coated unicorn opined, was enough to strike guilt and shame into anypony.
But guilt and shame, of all emotions, were the last things that McPommel felt right now, as he sat in his office and gazed up at the television with a broad, fiendish smirk. Once again, the topic of the newsflash he was watching centred around the Constellation; but far from the high praise that the plane had been receiving (praise which, in his opinion, it never deserved in the first place), the general tone of this broadcast was one of deepest anguish as the reporter related the tragic story of Flight 759's crash to all the peoples of Equestria.
“So much for launching that flying death-trap into service ahead of the Phantom, eh, de Hoofilland?” he said smugly as the film ended. “Now we'll see which one is the superior airliner!”
Withers, who happened to be in the office with him, shook his head in dismay. “I don't understand you, sir. An airliner crashes, and the first thing you can think of is the Phantom? What about all the lives that have been lost?”
“You would have to think about that, wouldn't you, Withers?” scoffed McPommel disdainfully.
“Well...yes, sir, but...think of all the ponies who might have been affected by the loss of their loved ones...”
“That, Withers, is precisely why I am a highly successful aviation entrepreneur, and you are a mere lackey!” snapped McPommel. “You keep snivelling about ponies being killed on rival airliners rather than focusing on your own, you'll never produce a successful aircraft.”
“Uh...a-a-actually, sir,” Withers tried to respond, “if it weren't for me, you'd never have sold a single aircraft yourself.”
McPommel glared at him. “Don't give me that, you worm!” he scowled. “I employed you here to design aircraft, not to preach all these pointless sermons to me about who's the most important part of my company! Now then, how soon can you have the outer wing-tips sorted out?”
Withers paused. “Uh...should have them done by next week, I think.”
“Then I suggest you get back to work,” ordered McPommel. “I don't know how long we have until the cause of the crash is identified, but I'm certainly not going to let this opportunity slide. The sooner we get the Phantom in the air, the better – so get moving, you idiot!”
Withers opened his mouth to protest still further; but the sharp tone of his boss' voice clearly left no room for argument, so instead he nodded in reply and resignedly left the office, still brooding over the loss of life that had resulted from the crash. All those ponies and other creatures dead...all those bereaved families who would never see them again...and all this for reasons he was afraid to reveal to anypony outside the company for which he worked...
It was late in the afternoon, and dull, grey clouds hung overhead as Locomotion and his uncle Steamer made their way home. The two ponies had been having a very busy day, Steamer on a special excursion to Fort Maine, and Locomotion with extra shunting; and both were looking forward to some quiet downtime at the red-furred unicorn's house. As they strolled through the now empty streets, Locomotion listened intently as his uncle told him about the excursion, unaware that their good moods were to be shattered the moment they passed through the front door.
The first thing that either pony knew of anything wrong was how disturbingly quiet it was when they entered the house. Normally, Locomotion's little brother and younger sister would be playing in one of the two front rooms, and his older sister was often to be heard playing the piano in the other; but today, there wasn't a single sound to be heard. The only other pony in the house was his mother, who bore an expression of deepest woe as she turned to look upon her son and brother-in-law. Upon seeing this, Locomotion immediately forgot to be cheerful. “Mum, what's wrong?” he asked anxiously.
The white-furred mare sighed heavily. “Loco...I'm afraid I've got some rather sad news,” she replied. “You know your aunt Carnation Petal was going to be staying in Saddle Arabia for a week?”
“Uh...yeah, what of it?”
“Well...I've just this morning been informed that her plane has crashed only a few miles away from the Bermuleda Islands,” explained his mother gravely.
Steamer and Locomotion were visibly horrified.
“It's what?!” Steamer could hardly believe his ears. “How in the hay did that happen?”
“They don't know yet, but they think it might be an in-flight fire or something.”
“And what about Carnation Petal? Did she survive?”
Locomotion's mother sadly shook her head. “None of them have. They've recovered her body, but she was declared dead at the scene.”
This was far too much for Locomotion. Carnation Petal, arguably, was his favourite aunt, and the news that she had been taken away from the land of the living so suddenly left the pre-teen colt so thunderstruck that he didn't know what to say, think or feel. Unable to manage an audible reply, he trotted swiftly up the stairs and into his bedroom, leaving his mother and uncle alone in the hallway. Only when he had entered the room and closed the door did he allow himself to succumb to the tidal wave of emotions with which he had been struck, shedding tears and sobbing hard as he sprawled out across his bed and buried his face in the soft pillows.
Twilight had been having a busy day too. Throughout the morning and most of the afternoon, she had been holding discussions with Rarity, the mayor and several other important ponies regarding the upcoming Ponyville Days Festival, and she was now winding down in the castle library with one of her favourite novels to keep her occupied. Nearby, her dragon assistant Spike was in the middle of dusting the books and shelves.
“How's it coming, Spike?” the lavender-coated alicorn asked, briefly looking up from her book.
“Looking good so far, Twi,” replied Spike cheerfully. “Should have this lot done by dinner.”
“Ah, good. Keep up the good work.”
“As if I'd ever do otherwise!” chuckled Spike, promptly resuming his dusting. “You just focus on that book, Twilight, and let the dragon do the real work.”
Twilight couldn't help but let out a small chuckle of her own as she watched the purple reptile quietly going about his work. Spike had clearly come a long way since the two of them had first moved to Ponyville all those years ago – indeed, it was hard to imagine that someone as smart and diligent and mature as he was now, someone who simply got on with the job without quip nor complaint, had started out so small and cheeky and occasionally clueless. He still had a lot to learn in life, and there were times when the old Spike managed to rear his mischievous head, but ever since he and Rarity had started going out together, his already loyal personality seemed to have improved enormously with the passing of time and the growth in their relationship.
And to think that she had all too often brushed off the possibility of those two being together as a mere pie in the sky! Now, seven years since they had first arrived here, three years after that fiasco in which the white-furred unicorn had saved him from drowning and revealed her own feelings for him, Spike and Rarity had become inseparable, and the purple dragon seemed to spend more time at Carousel Boutique than he did at the castle. But the real surprise came late the previous summer, when Spike finally popped the question after attending a fashion show in Fillydelphia. Rarity couldn't think of a single moment when she'd been any happier, and once their friends had gotten over the initial shock, they were full of praise for the happy couple.
The lavender-coated alicorn sighed dreamily at the memory as she turned over another page. Just think, she thought to herself – one of these days, the very same thing would be happening with her and Flash. Heck, if they were lucky enough, maybe their own wedding might take place under the same roof as her dragon assistant and...
But her train of thought was rudely interrupted by a slight grunt from Spike. She looked up from her book, and was just in time to see him burping up a jet of green fire, which quickly reformed itself into a neatly rolled scroll with the Royal Canterlot seal.
“Uh...were we expecting anything off of Princess Celestia?” wondered Twilight, confused.
“Dunno,” murmured Spike, picking up the scroll and opening it up, “but I sure could do with a more...polite way of receiving mail. Imagine if I'd been on...” but he suddenly broke off when he noticed what was written on the scroll, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping in alarm. Surely this had to be some sort of joke!
“What is it, Spike?” asked Twilight, concerned.
Spike didn't reply. He didn't even dare to look upon his surrogate older sister. He just stared upon the sheet of parchment, hoping desperately that this was just some crazy dream, and that if Twilight were to read it, she would find a completely different message to the one he had just done.
“Spike, what's wrong?”
The horrified dragon gulped hard, silently wishing for the ground to open up beneath his feet and swallow him whole. “It's......it's Flash,” he stammered, feeling his legs starting to weaken as he spoke. “He......well, I'm......something's happened to him, and......here, you read it.” Without another word, he handed Twilight the letter and sat down on one of the other sofas, mentally bracing himself for the inevitable.
There was a long silence.
“I......no! It can't be!”
Daring to look up, Spike noticed Twilight staring in horror upon the unfurled scroll, her eyes brimming with tears as the horrible truth slowly began to sink in. She read through the text again and again, silently wishing there was something she might have missed, or that she might have misread the letter entirely. But still the message remained the same;
Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle, my most faithful student,
I deeply regret to inform you that we have just received word of a plane crash near the Bermuleda Islands. I am given to understand by my messenger that the downed aircraft was Royal Equestrian Airways Flight 759 for Abu Dhonki, and that your consort, Lieutenant Flash Sentry, was on said flight when it crashed.
We are unsure as yet how many lives have been lost in total; but given that the plane involved in the crash was a de Hoofilland Constellation, we believe there may have been as many as nine hundred passengers on board. Five hundred and eighty-three bodies have already been recovered, but several are still missing, including that of Flash, and they have been unable to find any survivors. It is with deepest sorrow, therefore, that I wish to offer my condolences.
Yours sincerely
Princess Celestia
This had to be by far and away the worst moment in all her life. Flash Sentry, her beloved guardspony, the one pony she cared more about than anything else in the world – even more so than reading and research – had almost certainly departed this world, never to return. It was almost as if her heart had been ripped from her chest and torn to shreds right before her very eyes.
“I'm really sorry, Twilight,” murmured Spike sadly.
Twilight didn't reply. She just gazed down upon the silk cushions of her sofa with a distraught look on her face, her chest aching like nothing she had ever felt before. “Why?” she wept, finally allowing her pain and grief to make itself known to the whole world. “Why did this have to happen?”
Spike opened his mouth to try and answer Twilight's question; but quickly shut it again for fear of hurting the heartbroken alicorn's feelings still further. An inquisitive hoot distracted his attention at this point, and he looked up to see Owlowiscious, Twilight's pet owl, touching down on the armrest with a look of concern on his face.
“Twilight, that's who,” explained Spike morosely. “We've just had some bad news from Princess Celestia about Flash. It's on that sheet of parchment just in front of her.”
Perplexed, Owlowiscious flew over to his mistress and examined the letter. Only when he had fully analysed the message did he realise what Spike was talking about, and he gently ran his wing through Twilight's mane in an effort to try and comfort her. Much to the relief of both dragon and owl, her sobbing ebbed away into tiny sniffles as she began to calm down – though not by much.
“I just...don't understand,” she faltered. “That pony's been my whole world for the best part of three or four years. Why did he have to leave me like this?” She closed her eyes as fresh tears trickled down her muzzle. “It just isn't fair.”
“Darn right it isn't,” agreed Spike softly. “That Flash Sentry was a real nice guy – I should think we'd all feel bad for his passing. I know there are probably tens of thousands who feel the same about the rest of the crew and passengers on that plane.” He looked across to Owlowiscious, who gave a solemn hoot in agreement. “I mean, yeah, it was an unfortunate occurrence, and one that probably should never have happened in the first place, but we mustn't give up hope,” he added, trying to sound optimistic. “They still haven't found his body yet; it could be that he's survived the crash.”
Twilight paused, mulling over what Spike had just said. He was definitely right about the crash being an “unfortunate occurrence” which “probably should never have happened in the first place”; millions of bits and seven long, gruelling years had been spent on the Constellation's development, and for such a bold national icon to crash was undoubtedly a huge blow to the kingdom of Equestria. But what really worried her was the possibility of a similar accident with another airliner of the exact same model. This airliner, after all, was a pioneer in its field, and for all she knew, there could be a fatal flaw in these behemoths that their tests had failed to identify – one that could threaten the lives of tens of thousands of passengers worldwide.
At last, the lavender-coated alicorn spoke up; “You're right, Spike,” she said bravely. “There is still a chance for Flash – and even if there isn't, I'm going to make sure his death wasn't in vain.”
“How are you gonna do that?”
“Simple,” answered Twilight decisively. “The Air Ministry will be launching an official investigation into this crash, and I'm going to be in on it.”
“What, in your state?!” Spike could only stare in disbelief. “But we only just received that letter a few minutes ago! Surely you might want...”
“Surely I might want nothing, Spike!” insisted Twilight firmly. “We've lost something like nine-hundred lives in that crash, and whether or not Flash has survived, there's no way I'm letting this happen again. Take a letter, Spike; Princess Celestia will want to hear of this.”
“Uh...well, if you're sure,” said Spike doubtfully, taking a quill and a sheet of parchment. Secretly, he wasn't sure Twilight should be putting herself through such stress so soon after hearing about Flash, but he kept it to himself as he began writing...