Constellation

by Locomotion

Chapter 10: Crisis with the Constellation!

News of the Constellation's relaunch quickly spread across Equestria, whole towns and cities were rejoicing as their greatest triumph of aviation engineering began rolling out of the hangar, ready to serve the world's airlines for what they thought to be many, many years to come. But while many celebrated their return, others were not so enthusiastic.

Early the following morning, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were just discussing their latest ideas when Locomotion came storming up to them with a look of horror on his face and a copy of the Ponyville Express in one hoof.

“What's wrong, Loco?” asked Apple Bloom.

“WHAT'S WRONG?!?!” burst out Locomotion, flinging the newspaper down in front of them. “This is what's wrong – they're returning the Constellations to service!”

The Crusaders exchanged glances, unsure how to react.

“Well...that's not so bad then, is it?”

Locomotion's face took on a half-crazed expression of disbelief. “Not so bad?! This is worse than bad!!” he hollered. “We're talking about the Constellations here, Sweetie-Belle, not some hot air balloon! They haven't even got close to finding how that plane crashed – killing my aunt, lest you forget – and they're already flying it again even though it may yet be defective! Of all the worst things that the Air Ministry could have done right now, this is THE – WORST – POSSIBLE – THING!!!”

“Well...maybe they aren't defective,” objected Scootaloo. “Maybe Twilight and the investigation teams have deemed them safe to fly again.”

“That's the point, Scootaloo!” snapped Locomotion. “Twilight wasn't the one who allowed them back into the air – it was that stuck-up old duke of whom Rarity sometimes speaks! He even ordered that the investigation be terminated!”

Sweetie-Belle gasped. She had heard all about Rarity's experience at the Grand Galloping Gala, and knew exactly whom Locomotion was talking about. “So...he didn't even...”

“Three guesses says no!” growled Locomotion darkly. “That windbag doesn't care about passengers' lives; he's just sending out those planes because it suits his ego! National pride, that's all that matters to him!” He took a few deep breaths before continuing with his rant; “His actions are only gonna lead to further disasters, I just know it! You mark my words, next crash they have, there'll be citizens involved!”

None of the Crusaders knew how to respond. They could only hope that another crash didn't happen...

---

It was late in the afternoon by the time Twilight arrived back at Foalborough with Spike, Rotor and Panthera. The lavender-coated alicorn was still in good spirits after seeing Flash alive; but that was promptly swept aside the moment they entered the hangar. The four of them had barely made it through the doorway when Spyder came running up to them, waving his arms like mad and yelling out loud;

“Colonel Panthera! Princess Twilight! Dr Rotor! Mr the Dragon! We've got trouble! TROUBLE!!!”

Twilight's cheery mood suddenly vanished altogether as she sensed the frantic urgency in Spyder's voice. “What is it, Major?” she asked anxiously.

“The Air Minister called while you were gone! He says we're taking too long to find the cause of the crash and that we're to pack up and go home while he returns the Constellations to service!! DO YOU REALISE WHAT THIS MEANS?!”

Spike growled furiously and covered up his ears at the sound of Spyder's frenetic screeching. “WHEN IS THAT LITTLE BABOON GONNA STOP YELLING AT US!!” he burst out.

“Spyder, for Solaris' sake...” began Panthera angrily.

“ENOUGH!!!” yelled Twilight. The hangar immediately fell silent. “Now, Spyder, could you please tell me clearly and slowly what Lord Cloud said?”

Spyder paused, taking several deep breaths to calm himself down. “He says he'll be letting the Constellations take flight again,” he explained. “But that's not all, Your Highness; he says we're taking too long to identify the cause of the crash, and that he's launching them back into service as soon as he can – in other words, right now!”

Twilight's eyes bulged with alarm. “WHAT?!? But we don't even know if the Constellation is safe to fly!” she hollered.

“That's what we tried to tell him,” agreed Spyder, “but he wouldn't listen to reason. He said that, by royal command, the Constellations were to be reinstated and the investigation terminated!”

The lavender-coated alicorn paused. Something about what Spyder had told her didn't seem right; for there was no way Celestia would be so blasé as to risk so many passengers' lives on a potentially dangerous airliner. Surely, then, this “royal command” must have come from some other member of the Equestrian royalty, or maybe Lord Cloud must have misinterpreted a completely different instruction. But whatever the reason, they now had a fresh crisis on their hooves that had to be resolved – even if it meant going against orders.

“Right, well...thank you, Spyder. Tell the investigation team I want results and I want them fast!”

“But, your Highness, the Air Minister...”

“I'm overruling the Air Minister, Spyder,” interrupted Twilight firmly. “I don't care who told him to cancel the inquiry for whatever reason – we've got to get to the bottom of all this before tragedy strikes again!”

“Oh...uh, yes, ma'am!” Spyder gave Twilight a smart salute and scurried away.

“Panthera, check all fragments of the plane for any details we might have missed!” ordered Twilight. “Go through the whole airframe with a fine-toothed comb! If you find anything – anything whatsoever that might hint towards the cause of the crash, let me know immediately!”

“Will do, Your Highness.”

“Rotor, send a message to Canterlot GHQ – tell them I want HMS Farrier and the salvage vessels to double their search efforts! The sooner we find the golden nugget, the better!”

“Will do!”

“Spike?”

“Yes, Twilight?”

“Take a letter...”

---

“What do you mean you're having trouble with the engines?!” McPommel angrily slammed his hoof down on the desk. “You said they were working perfectly!!”

“They are, sir,” replied Withers nervously. “It's just...well...”

“Out with it, Withers! I haven't got all day!”

Withers gulped and looked away. “It would appear the engines are too small and the fuel consumption rate too high to stay in the air for longer than three-thousand miles.”

McPommel seethed with frustration. “Then find some bigger engines!” he ordered.

“Well that's just it, sir,” explained Withers. “That aircraft is around twice as big as anything we've ever built before; it's going to require bigger engines than the ones we've got.”

“Then why are you still here?!” barked McPommel. “If we don't have big enough engines, your place is in the design office, not in mine!”

“Well...with all due respect, sir, we've been working on this project for twelve, thirteen years now, and it's pretty much been going nowhere. Don't you think it'd be best to go back to Square One and start again?”

This turned out to be a huge mistake. McPommel was so enraged by Withers' suggestion that his patience suddenly snapped. “GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!!” he screamed.

With a startled shriek, Withers darted out of the room. His livid boss turned and faced the window, breathing deeply and sipping his mug of coffee to try and calm himself down.

“That idiot Withers!” he growled. “I have a whole aircraft company on my hooves and he tells me I should give up my most important project to date?! Not on your life, you coward!”

He turned on the television and began flicking through the channels, hoping to find something that might improve his mood. He didn't get very far, however, before coming across what appeared to be a very interesting newsflash. Curious as to what it might be about, he stopped browsing and sat back to watch – but he wasn't prepared for what he saw and heard.

There, right before his eyes, was his arch adversary being drawn proudly out of its hangar, with an admiring crowd watching in excitement from either side of a taxiway. On a podium nearby stood Lord Cloud and the Chief Executive of Royal Equestrian Airways, and immediately next to them was a certain white unicorn with blond mane and tail. McPommel stared at the screen, wondering whether his imagination might be running away with him; but judging by the commentary, it plainly wasn't.

“I'm here at Starswirl Airport in East Manehattan, where the mighty Constellation, the world's biggest airliner, is being launched into service for the first time in five months,” announced the cheerful voice of the reporter to the many viewers across Equestria. “Air Minister Lord Cloud, this morning, announced that, on the orders of Prince Blueblood, Duke of Yoke, the ban on Captain de Hoofilland's greatest achievements in the world of aviation is to be lifted and the Constellations reinstated on flights across the Titanic and Pegacific Oceans. On this, its first flight since the tragic crash of Flight 759, Prince Blueblood himself was booked to travel on this flight between Manehattan and Queen Faust Airport in Canterlot.”

McPommel glowered upon the Constellation with disbelief. Here he thought these behemoths had flown their last – at least until his Phantom took to the sky – yet here they were carrying on in the face of the serious blow that had been dealt to their reputation. He could almost hear the plane taunting him as it made its way onto the apron! Listening still further, he sneered harshly as Blueblood gave the Constellation a hubristic vote of confidence;

“Flight 759 may have been an...unfortunate incident, I will admit, but after five months of investigation, we can conclude that the aircraft itself is perfectly fit for service. We may never know who or what caused the crash, but we and the Air Ministry are wholly satisfied that this airliner is more than ready to serve the airlines of the world.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” snarled McPommel. “Well, we'll soon see about that!” He switched off the television and turned to his telephone. “Just you wait, Blueblood – soon enough, you'll live to regret treating that plane with the respect that mine deserves...”

---

Princess Celestia stared at Twilight's letter. “Surely there must be some mistake,” she murmured. “I don't recall ever authorising the Constellations' return to service.”

“Nor do I,” replied Luna, obviously as confused as her sister. “If I remember correctly, Tia, you insisted that the Constellations remained grounded until a cause is identified.” She scanned through the letter again. “Perhaps we had better ask the Air Minister about this.”

“Yes, maybe we should,” agreed Celestia anxiously; but just as she was about to stand up, the throne room doors opened, and Raven Quill came trotting down the aisle towards the two alicorn sisters.

“Pardon me, Your Highnesses,” he spoke up gravely, bowing respectfully before them, “but I bring news of a rather...disturbing nature. We've just received word that Royal Equestrian Airways have just relaunched their Constellation fleet.”

The two alicorns stared in disbelief at their scribe, and then anxiously at each other.

“Whose orders?” asked Luna.

“We don't know, but Lord Cloud did say he acted by royal command,” said Raven Quill. “I'm assuming he didn't mean either of you?”

“You assume right, Raven Quill,” affirmed Celestia. “Neither Luna nor I gave him any authority to relaunch the Constellation fleet until the cause to Flight 759's crash had been identified.”

“I think I might know who it is.” Discord materialised in front of them, bearing an unusually serious expression as he held up a television for all to see. “I know, I know – you're expecting a red herring,” he stated, pulling a fish out of nowhere and flinging it behind his back, “but I think you'll find I'm not fooling around this time.”

“What do you mean you aren't?!” demanded Luna accusingly. “You who takes delight in spreading chaos?”

Discord looked hurt. “My dear Luna, I am surprised at you,” he faltered. “I may be all for chaos, but the last thing I want is for a living creature to be killed in the process. Matter of fact, I'm absolutely appalled that somepony should play me at my own game for that very purpose.”

“Like you wouldn't know! I bet you struck that aircraft down on purpose!”

Celestia directed a reproving glance upon her younger sister. “Now then, Luna,” she chided, “there's no cause to be so rude. Discord may have been a bane in the past, but he's quite right; nopony has ever been killed by him, directly or indirectly. Anyway, Discord,” she went on, “you say you might know who ordered the planes back into the air?”

“I did indeed, dear Celest,” affirmed Discord, resuming his serious expression. “It's right here...” and he turned on the television.

All three ponies watched, Luna cautiously scanning for any magic to suggest this might be a trick – but as the newsflash played out before their eyes, even she had to admit that the renegade draconequus truly meant what he had just said. There was the Constellation being prepared for service, the airport crowded with onlookers including a rather uncertain Lord Cloud, all greeting the gargantuan steel bird warmly. The two alicorns stared at the screen in dismay.

“Good thing I caught this on video,” mused Discord, pressing the rewind button, “because I think there's a certain detail in the commentary that you might have missed out.”

Celestia wasn't sure what Discord could mean by this – but when the draconequus played back the newsflash a second time, she quickly realised what he was getting at. Upon the mention of a certain nephew of hers, the penny dropped, and her eyes narrowed.

“Prince Blueblood!” she exclaimed. “I might have known it! I must write to the Air Minister at once and tell him to ground those planes again before another crash rears its head.”

Luna looked uncertain. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do? We could end up with a public outcry if the Constellations go back into mothballs.”

“Yes, Luna, but the consequences to our airline passengers could be even more disastrous unless we act immediately,” said Celestia firmly. “We must ensure that no further lives are lost, no matter what it takes.”

But it was already too late...

---

Over the next few days, the investigation into Flight 759's crash proceeded rapidly as the two teams tried to understand how the plane had managed to break apart without being bombed. Colonel Panthera was stretching himself to the limit in his attempts to find out where the break-up had started, while HMS Farrier and the salvage vessels continued to search the ocean floor west of Bermuleda for any and all remaining traces of the wrecked Constellation. With the remaining planes back in the air and no hope of a swift withdrawal, they all knew that until the cause of the crash came to light, the lives of tens of thousands of passengers worldwide lay squarely in their hooves.

A week later, the inevitable happened. Another Constellation was flying west on a charter flight from San Franciscolt to Tokyoke, which was being operated on the behalf of Royal Equestrian by All Neighpon Airways. Half an hour after taking off, the plane reached its cruising altitude, and the captain reported back to their starting point at San Franciscolt International Airport;

“San Franciscolt Tower, All Neighpon Three Zero Four is now on course for Haneighda Airport on Flight Level Three Seven Zero.”

“Roger, All Neighpon Three Zero Four,” replied the tower controller over the radio. “You're cleared all the way across the Pegacific Ocean. Have a good flight.”

“Thank you, San Franciscolt. This is All Neighpon Three Zero Four, listening out.” With a look of satisfaction on his face, the captain switched on his autopilot and sat back in his seat. “Well, friends, roll on Tokyoke, eh?”

The flight engineer nodded his agreement with a broad grin. “Yes, and on a Constellation too! This must be the first time an All Neighpon crew has ever flown one of these monsters.”

But the co-pilot didn't seem half as enthusiastic. “I just hope this thing doesn't blow up like the last one,” he muttered anxiously.

“You don't seriously think of these planes as being dangerous, do you?” asked the captain sceptically.

“No...” The co-pilot paused for a few seconds. “...but there has been an awful lot of opposition to this aircraft over the years, and on top of all that, one of them seems to have just fallen out of the sky for no apparent reason. I've just got a feeling that trouble could still strike at any minute.”

And as the roof suddenly tore away, causing the aircraft to break apart and fall into the sea, it became abhorrently clear that, in the last words he was ever heard to speak, the co-pilot was absolutely right...

---

“...THERE'S BEEN ANOTHER CRASH! THERE'S BEEN ANOTHER CRASH! DON'T PANIC! DON'T PANIC! DON'T PANIC!!”

Panthera looked up from his microscope as Major Spyder ran around the hangar, waving his arms and screeching his head off. Normally he would have given the hyperactive monkey a good scolding, but any such intention was interrupted by the sound of alarm bells ringing in his head. “Another Constellation down?” he asked tersely.

“YE-E-E-ES!!” hollered Spyder. “One of them has just crashed into the Pegacific Ocean between San Franciscolt and Haywaii – Flight 304 for Tokyoke! We mustn't panic! WE MUSTN'T PANIC!!”

“How many casualties are there?” asked Rotor.

“All Neighpon Airways are saying there were six-hundred and ninety-two on that plane!” replied Spyder. “They've picked up more than four-hundred bodies, but they're all dead! DEAD!!”

Twilight let out a growl of frustration. “This had to happen now, didn't it?! And just when we were making headway with the inquiry too!”

Spike clenched his fists in anger; but for once, Spyder was the last thing on his mind. “Yeah, and before we even knew whether or not the plane was safe to fly!” he snarled. “Curse that Blueblood! Imagine booking all those passengers on a flight to Tokyoke and then flying them to their deaths – all because he won't give a toss about anything or anypony other than himself and his pride!”

“He'll probably have more than his pride at stake when Princess Celestia's through with him,” grunted Rotor, annoyed.

“True,” observed Panthera, trying to remain philosophical about the whole affair, “but at least now we know that, if indeed it was sabotage, then the plane itself must have been the target rather than an individual passenger.” A deep sigh followed as the sphinx stared ruefully at his front paws. “But I was so sure it must have been a murder.”

Rotor smiled faintly. “You were quite right to bring it up in the first place, Colonel,” he soothed. “Yehuda, as you say, was a much envied diplomatic figure – for all we knew at the time, there could have been some truth to your statement.”

Panthera remained silent for a few moments, but eventually replied with a weak nod, saying, “I suppose you're right, Rotor. But I've still got a hunch about these two crashes.”

“You and the rest of us, Colonel Panthera,” put in Twilight grimly. “Structural failure I can understand, but this early in a plane's life? And with no charring or deformation on the wreckage to suggest a bomb blast? It just...doesn't add up.”

“Captain de Hoofilland himself doesn't think it possible either,” agreed Rotor. “He's already performed exhaustive pressure testing on that plane's hull, and according to their results, it should have been good for around 28,000 pressurisation cycles.”

Panthera frowned. “Yet Constellation Zebra Trigger broke up after just nineteen despite having been given a clean bill of health at Starswirl Airport – and all this, seemingly, without the aid of a bomb,” he remarked suspiciously. “There's something very fishy going on here.”

Comments

[Darth Redbeard]

and this is why I really do not like that spoiled good for nothing prince bluefart.
Yeah, I take pride in insulting him.

[_NeighlyReads_]

Can there be like a scene where flash had a near death? Cuz ya know, Flash is pretty badly injured. :3

[JediWaffles]

5954045
Something random, but I always enjoy seeing whether people spell it "Flashy" or "Flashie".
And that would be interesting