Prologue
Equestria and the world at large were forever changed with the invention of the Aeroplane. While Pegasi, Dragons, Griffins and many other species had the natural ability of flight, it had always been restricted to these species that possessed wings. Their flight times, as well as flying speeds were also capped by the natural limitations of their bodies. Long-distance travel for the masses globally had thus been largely relegated to trains, and journeys often took days or weeks.
The invention of the Aeroplane was thus a massive breakthrough; allowing easy, rapid travel for the masses across the globe. The development of the aeroplane was at an almost unfathomable pace, and not long after their introduction commercial aviation had become commonplace. While most Equestrian pilots were naturally Pegasi, there were occasional unicorn and earth pony aviators as well.
“There is a bomb in the Terminal. You have 10 minutes.”
The completely clothed, hooded pony who wore dark sunglasses hung up the public phone and left the booth. He stepped out into the crowd, melting away with no visually distinct features. He didn’t raise any eyebrows either, why should he? He was just another pony, albeit wearing a hood in the Camarey Islands sunshine. He’d have to just slip into the back alleys between the many shops, businesses and other buildings to remove and dispose of his clothes. Even then, he had temporarily restyled his mane, dyed it and his coat, painted on a new cutie mark and clipped on some fake Pegasus wings for good measure. He would basically be untraceable.
This dare better have been worth the 800 Bits.
There was actually no bomb, and no one was going to get hurt. It was just a prank, really. It would scare the living crap out of the Airport staff, shut it down for a good hour as they comb it for the bomb, and when the 10 minutes were up and they found no bomb it would be the end of it. It would be in the papers the next day for the proof and his friend would have to pony up the Bits. An hour or so of chaos with no one hurt and his pocket with an additional month’s wages on a dare. It sounded like a good deal.
Little did he know that, by the setting of Celestia’s Sun his “harmless” prank would claim the lives of almost 600 ponies; it would spark a sequence of coincidences and misunderstandings that would end in the worst aviation disaster in Equestrian History.
In the Gran Camareia Airport’s administration office the Drab Grey, Beige maned Unicorn clerk with a pen and paper for a cutie mark put down the phone, frozen in uncertainty of what to do. Should he believe this threat? The Colt on the other end of the line sounded young and not completely serious, and it could’ve been a childish, albeit extremely serious prank. Mulling it over for a couple of seconds he decided to tell his boss. Prank or not, if it turned out to be real then lives were at stake.
Meanwhile, in one of the many restaurants in the Airport’s terminal, it was just after the breakfast rush. While the crowd’s peak had passed, diners were still sitting down for their first meal of the day, and the kitchens were thus still busy with fresh orders, completely unaware of the slow-building leak in one of their gas pipes…
“So you’re sure he didn’t sound serious about it?” asked the Navy Blue, Purple-maned Earth Pony with a desk for a cutie mark to his charge.
“Yes sir, he didn’t, it was like he was trying to keep a straight voice while making the threat,” replied the Drab Grey clerk, mulling over his thoughts as he spoke them. His tone then returned to seriousness.
“However, I think it’s best we evacuate the airport anyway, just in case it’s real”
His Blue supervisor nodded. “Agreed, prank or not we should take this seriously. Call up security. Tell them we’ve had a bomb th-…”
His words were suddenly cut off by a loud explosion from somewhere in the terminal, on the main Terminal floor below the offices. It shook the entire office and they fell to the floor. They could already hear the muffled screaming and panic from the floor below.
As the two office ponies got back to their feet, their eyes were widened with shock, unsure of what to say, before the clerk opened his mouth to dryly state the obvious.
“That wasn’t 10 minutes…”
The two scrambled to their phones, they now had a bomb threat AND an explosion.
“Security, we’ve just had an explosion and a bomb threat almost a minute ago. Evacuate the terminal, there could be more than one bomb!”
The supervisor, meanwhile, rang up the Control Tower, with equal haste and urgency.
“Hello? Camareia Tower? We’re had a bomb threat and an explosion in the Terminal. There could be more than one bomb. Close the Airport and divert all incoming traffic. Repeat, close the Airport and divert all incoming traffic!”
The Camarey Islands were an archipelego off Equestrian Province of Spain. Further south than the main province, it made them an island paradise that was popular with holidaymakers from all over Equestria. The islands thus received a lot of air traffic; the busiest airport and main gateway to paradise was Gran Camareia Airport, on the island of the same name.
Unfortunately, an assumed bomb explosion had just shattered the paradise. Gran Camareia was now closed as police and security combed the terminal for potential additional bombs. As a busy international airport Gran Camareia had heavy traffic every day of the week, even a Sunday. It now meant the usual stream of large jet airliners that came in from every corner of the globe would now have to be diverted to another, nearby airport.
“Gran Canaria Approach, Swissair 8200. Request landing vectors.”
“Swissair 8200,negative, negative, negative. Airport is closed. Divert to Teneighrife Airport”
“Uhh…Roger, Gran Camareia. Request Vectors to Teneighrife”
On the island of Teneighfire, near Gran Camareia Island was a small, regional airport known as Tenieghrife Airport, also known as Los Rodeos Airport. It had only a small apron for planes to park, be refuelled, unloaded and boarded. The airport’s only runway had recently been extended in anticipation of long-distance 747 Jumbo Jets, and while this never came to fruition, Teneighrife remained the only other airport apart from Gran Camareia that could handle the largest passenger jets in service.
While capable of handling the biggest planes in the sky, most of the traffic to Los Rodeos was small, commuter jets making hops between the islands, or feeder traffic to bigger airports. The airport never handled more than 30 planes a day, and unlike its bigger counterpart on Gran Camareia, being a Sunday meant the airport was expecting the bare minimum: 10 commuter flights to the other islands, and a couple of private planes. Such low expected traffic meant there were only 2 Air Traffic Controllers on duty at the tower; Teneighrife didn’t have a separate Approach Control on duty either.
“Teneighrife Tower, Binter 468. Successful takeoff, climbing to 9000 feet,” came the pilot over the Controller’s Headset.
Faray Day, the white unicorn colt with a brown mane and a radio tower for a Cutie Mark responded to the aircraft.
“Roger, Binter 468. Maintain heading and proceed to Lanzarote. Approach Frequency 1-2-9-point-3”
“Teneighrife Tower, Binter 468. Confirm Lanzarote Approach Frequency 1-2-9-point-3. Goodbye”
Faray leaned back in his chair, as the first scheduled airliner of the day was no longer under his charge. His headset was now silent, and the only other sound in the Control Tower was a soft slurping. His fellow controller, an orange, lime mane earth pony with a Headset Cutie Mark named Walkie Talkie had made himself some coffee.
Walkie put his mug down to speak. “Well, that’s one plane down. The Islas from La Palma won’t be here till 1:30”
Faray chuckled to himself. This was going to be a long, boring day at the office. He could’ve been doing other things besides the boring weekend shift, but the double pay was too tempting compensation. At least they’d have some entertainment.
“We’re gonna be very bored till then, good thing we have a TV up here. Isn’t football on today?” Faray asked his coworker.
Walkie replied with a nod, savouring his warm coffee. He was about to go downstairs to make his co-worker a cup as well when the silence of the Control Room was suddenly shattered by the phone next to him rang.
“Hello, Teneighrife Tower?” he casually answered, before his tone changed to a mild surprise. “Oh. Umm, roger Gran Camareia, how many can we expect?”
His eyes then went wide in disbelief.
“Wait…how many?” he asked in shock. “Umm…roger, you’ll fax the flight plans, then. Ok, expected reopening 5 hours earliest. Ok, goodbye.”
Walkie put the phone down, still in disbelief as he was trying to process the information he was just told over the phone.
“Um...Faray?” Walkie nervously asked his colleague. “Remember when you said today was going to be a boring day at the office?”
“Yeah,” was the indifferent reply, “what about it?”
The lifeless silence was once again broken, this time by the fax machine between the two controllers buzzing to life, and starting to churn out page after page of flight plans.
“…I think we’re gonna be a bit busier today”
