Chapter One: The Airship Takes Off

Octavia was on the precipice of boredom when it was finally time to leave. Whilst she wouldn't have traded being early with anything, waiting around an airship harbour wasn't exactly riveting. The shops selling drinks and perfume were only entertaining for so long, and the restaurants weren't exiting either. She had found herself so bored, in fact, that even reading her book, a wonderful little light-hearted romance novel, felt like a chore.

Her flanks ached from having sat down for so long. She slung her over sized cello case over her back, accustomed to the weight, and trotted to her gate.

“I can’t wait to arrive in Trottingham…” she muttered to herself. “I think I’ll get a long, relaxing bath…”

The music festival was an honour to be invited to. Trottingham, and in fact the whole of Braytain was a cultural hub for art and music. Octavia was truly glad to be on her way there, it was just she wished it wasn't so far away.

“Everypony here heading to Trottingham?” called a tall, stern looking stallion in a blue uniform. Obviously he was in charge of scheduling the flights. He was standing next to a brilliantly polished brass rail that separated him from a long fall to the air strip.

And behind him was the airship itself. A huge craft indeed, but still small compared to some of the others that Octavia could see. It’s bloated frame took up most of the horizon, and the tiny compartment underneath looked like it had been added there simply as an afterthought.

“Will you look at that shape, brother?” Octavia heard one of the other passengers say.

“Aerodynamic.”

“Ceramic?”

“Of course not. It’s obviously metallic!”

Octavia decided to ignore their chatter, and instead focused on finding her papers. It didn't take long: they were stored neatly in the folds of her mane, like they always were.

She almost dropped them when some other pony jostled her. She spun around, ready to provide stern words to the clumsy pony.

Her jaw dropped when she saw who had bumped into her.

“Vinyl? What on earth are you doing here?”

The pristine white unicorn was easily recognizable due to her massive, uncontrollable blue mane and trademark glasses. When the DJ realized who it was she had bumped into, she gasped as well.

“Oh, jeez! What, are you… you’re going to the festival too?”

Octavia hadn't expected to find her friend, and room-mate, on the same flight as her. Both ponies had declared that they were going on last minute trips, but it occurred to Octavia that she hadn't mentioned where she was going, and what for.

“Well, yes. I got an invite.”

Vinyl ran a hoof through her mane, amazed. “Some coincidence, huh? And to think we could have just travelled together.”

Octavia stopped, puzzled. “Hang on a second… you took a different train than me. You said yours left an hour and a half later.”

Vinyl nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. The flight is at four thirty, so…”

Octavia groaned. “You’re supposed to get there two hours early! In case something goes wrong!”

“No way. I'm not sitting around here for hours on end. This place sucks. It’s so boring.”

Octavia had to concede that point, at least. “Well, it’s no good arguing about it now… and frankly, I'm glad you’re here. It will give me somepony to talk to.”

Vinyl nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. You seen that crowd over there? I've got no clue how so many weird ponies all got on the same flight.”

“I don’t tend to spy on other ponies, Vinyl,” Octavia replied.

“Pfft. What’re they going to do about it? It’s a public place, I can look at whoever I want. Anyway, it’s not spying. It’s like a game.”

Octavia raised her eyebrow. The queue she was in began to move forwards, slowly, as each of the passengers got on board.

“How is spying on ponies like a game?” she asked.

“Well, take a look at that guy,” Vinyl said. “Older guy, well dressed… he’s obviously a banker on business.”

Octavia snorted. “Can you tell that from the stethoscope in his hand luggage?”

Vinyl frowned. “Stethoscope?”

“Yes. There’s a stethoscope hanging out of his bag. I’d think that’s a very strange item for a banker to have.”

Octavia pointed out the pony in question, and gestured towards the bag slung over his shoulder.

Vinyl grumbled. “Well, okay, maybe I was wrong about him. Let’s have a look at this one over here… yeah, yeah, she’s an easy one.”

The DJ pointed at a mare, in excellent shape, with a long dark mane. Octavia couldn't help but feel a little jealous: she always found her own mane to be a bit dull.

“She’s a fitness instructor.”

Octavia hesitated. Sure, the mare looked fit, but a fitness instructor? It felt like a bit of a leap.

“Maybe we’ll find out on our trip. It’ll take all night, so we’ll have plenty of time to find out.”

Finally, it was their turn to present their papers. Octavia handed hers quickly and efficiently. It took Vinyl a little longer, searching the contents of her bag in a panic. She looked quite relieved when she found them.

“Thank you, ladies. Please step aboard,” the official grumbled, annoyed at having been made to wait.

“One day, Vinyl… I’ll teach you about organization,” Octavia said, shaking her head in exasperation.

The interior of the airship was very spacious and luxurious. Whilst Vinyl was cackling excitedly and exploring, Octavia suppressed a shiver. The metal floor and walls made the whole place rather chilly, and she found the open windows caused far too much of a drought.

“Are your teeth chattering? Seriously?” Vinyl asked, amazed. Octavia shot her a glare.

“I'm far more used to a warmer environment. Canterlot is the city of the sun, after all,” she replied. “Thank heavens I have a scarf in my suitcase…”

“Oh, suck it up,” Vinyl retorted playfully. “It’s not that bad…”

“It’s winter, for Celestia’s sake!”

“And a very cloudy winter indeed… yes, very cloudy.”

Both Octavia and Vinyl turned towards the pony who had spoken: a rather dreary looking Pegasus, staring outside with half closed eyes. His mane, which looked like it hadn't been tended to in days, made him look halfway like a homeless pony, and halfway like a rugged, even handsome adventurer. He didn't bother glancing back at the two mares, and instead kept staring into space.

“Indeed,” Octavia replied, a little cautious of this newcomer. “And you are?”

“They call me Sly. I’m a weather pony. It’s my job to look at clouds… hmm. No, this will not do, won’t clear up for hours.”

Vinyl tugged at Octavia’s mane.

“Come on, let’s leave the creepy pony to stare at clouds, huh?” she whispered. Octavia agreed, although she was still curious about the weather pony’s strange mannerisms. She'd never admit it to Vinyl, but she found she rather enjoyed their little deduction game.

“We’d better get our luggage to our cabins,” Octavia said. “We’re bound to take off soon.”

“Sure thing. I'm in cabin 9.”

“I'm in number 3. Tell you what, how about we reconvene at the on board restaurant? Have something to drink whilst we travel.”

Vinyl nodded. “Yeah, sounds great. I’d just kill for a cider.”

Octavia trotted towards her cabin, located on the port side of the airship. She was still having a hard time keeping warm, and she couldn't wait for the ship to take off, when the engines and heating would begin to warm up.

“The airship is experiencing mild technical difficulties. We apologize for the wait, and will begin our journey momentarily.”

Octavia huffed impatiently. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a pony wearing dark blue overalls, trotting towards her. A technician or engineer, perhaps?

“Excuse me… can you tell me when we’ll be leaving?” she asked. The engineer continued straight past her, deep in thought. “Excuse me!”

Suddenly, the engineer snapped around, startled. “Sweet spigots, girl! Don’t panic a stallion like that! What is it?”

“I was wondering when we’ll be taking off.”

The engineer shrugged. “Soon, soon, don't get your gears in a twist. I have things to do.”

Then he trotted off, still as preoccupied as before. Octavia harrumphed.

“How impolite.”

“He was rather, wasn't he?” came another stallion’s voice. Octavia recognized him from when they were boarding: he was the doctor Vinyl had mistaken for a banker.

“I suppose he’s very busy. I'm Octavia, how do you do?”

The older pony smiled kindly. “Doc’ Schwartz. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I don’t suppose you know what’s going on?”

“The wait is rather puzzling, isn't it?” he said, tapping his chin. “Maybe those crackpot brothers might know, but I sure as hay don’t.”

Octavia raised her eyebrow. “Crackpot brothers?”

“Yeah, you must have heard them as you came on board. Lousy pair. Some kind of big-shot inventors. Crazy as crackers, let me tell you.”

Octavia remembered the pair vaguely, but couldn't recall their faces. She shrugged. “I'm sure they’ll be harmless.”

“Hrmph,” Doctor Schwartz replied. “I suppose. Still, they should have their heads examined, if you want my opinion.”

Octavia found that the stallion’s manner was a little too gruff for her. She gestured towards her cello case and luggage. “I’m off to unpack. Nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you too, young lady,” the doctor replied. “Sorry I couldn't help you more.”

The doctor then turned and faced the window, examining the countryside beyond. Suddenly, the whole airship lurched. Octavia steadied herself just in time.

“It looks like that delay is over with,” the doctor commented. Octavia smiled.

“Then maybe it’ll warm up in here.”

Octavia fumbled for her keys, and then entered her cabin: it wasn't large, but it was spacious enough. It looked both comfortable and elegant. A brass chandelier hung from the ceiling, hovering just above her head. It swung gently as gravity shifted below her.

“Just perfect,” she said, admiring the organization of the room.

Remembering to rendezvous with Vinyl at the restaurant, she placed her suitcase on the bed and her cello-case near her bedside cabinet, making sure that it wouldn't fall over in flight. Her instrument was very precious to her.

It occurred to her that she wanted to get a good view as they gained altitude, and there were no windows in the cabins. It would be a magnificent sight, she reckoned. Grabbing a scarf, she trotted outside, and rushed past the doctor, still admiring the sights. There had to be a better view that the small window he was looking through, Octavia thought. She’d just have to find it once she met up with Vinyl.

As she trotted through the corridors, her hooves clattering against the wooden floor, she suddenly realized how much her stomach churned when flying. Now she had two reasons to find a balcony or a window…

She trotted into the restaurant, located at the end of the corridor. Most of the other passengers were already beginning to enjoy a drink. The barpony looked quite busy. Vinyl was still nowhere to be found.

“Rats. Where could she have gotten to?” Octavia muttered to herself. “Probably adjusting that ridiculous mane of hers…”

As the ship continued the rise, Octavia became impatient. Eventually, Vinyl exploded into the restaurant.

“Hey, ‘Tavi! Sorry, I got distracted by the view,” she said. Octavia rolled her eyes.

“Well come on, then! We can get a much better one from the balcony.”

Vinyl grinned. “You got it. I hardly ever fly: this is so exiting.”

Octavia lurched to the side, her stomach heaving. “You seem accustomed enough to it.”

“I guess. Not sure what there is to get used to, to be honest.”

Octavia jealously pouted as she and her friend stepped outside. It was early afternoon, and clouds covered the sky like a blanket. It wasn't the clouds that interested her, however: it was the ground. The airship continued its ascent, and the tiny buildings and trees looked like ants from this altitude. Despite being grey due to the weather, it was still remarkable.

If only she didn't feel quite so sick.

“Wow, this is cool,” Vinyl commented, and turned to her friend. “Uh, you okay there?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Just a little… airsick.”

Vinyl chuckled at Octavia’s misery. The grumpy earth pony shot her an angry glare.

“It’s not funny.”

“It is a little.”

“In what universe is somepony’s misfortune funny?” Octavia asked.

“The sort of universe where it reminds me of that time you had too many bloody mareys at the New Year.”

Octavia grumbled. “We agreed to never speak of that again.”

Vinyl was about to reply, but she was interrupted by a voice over the speakers. It had to be the pilot.

“Good afternoon. This is your captain speaking. My name is Gasbag, and I'm in charge of this flight. We apologize for the delay, we were suffering from some minor engineering issues in maintenance. We hope you enjoy your flight. We serve drinks and food in the restaurant and it will be open all night. We will arrive at our destination in approximately twenty two hours.”

Octavia groaned. “I hope this sickness clears up soon… I'm not sure I can take a whole day of this.”

Vinyl shook her head. “First you’re too cold, now you’re sick? Seriously, you are just one big mess of problems,” she said, before patting her friend on the back. “C’mon, let’s get you some water or something. It’ll do you good.”

The pair were now sitting down at their table. Octavia was gently sipping at a glass of water. She was slowly beginning to feel a bit better.

"You know, this airship makes the craziest noises," Vinyl said. "Humming, drumming, and even this weird screeching sound from time to time. It's crazy. You don't see machines like this in Canterlot."

"Well, just wait!" exclaimed a skinny looking unicorn at the table just next to them. "One day, flying machines will be all the rage!"

Octavia was not in the mood for talking to more crazy ponies. First that cloud obsessed Sly, then the rude engineer... she was feeling far to sick to deal with any more of their eccentric behaviour.

"What makes you say that?" Vinyl asked before Octavia could stop her.

"Well, we're inventors, you see..."

"The name is Flim. This here is Flam."

"And we're—"

"...crazy..." Octavia muttered, taking another sip of water.

"...the greatest engineers in the world!"

Both unicorns beamed. Vinyl hesitated.

"...are you sure?" she asked. Flim (or was it Flam?) nodded enthusiastically.

"Why yes! Only the finest of tinkerers could design and manufacture a flying device using the brand new, high performance... Flim core!"

"Flam core," his brother corrected. "You did the structural design, but the Flam core is my own invention."

"Nonsense! I think I'd remember that!"

"A flying machine? How does it work?" asked Sly, who turned away from his window. "Can it navigate clouds?"

Flim and Flam both nodded. "It can fly through anything."

"Clouds aren't like normal sky. It's too cloudly. Too cloudy. Makes metal rust."

Octavia and Vinyl both turned back towards their respective drinks.

"Do you think that there's anypony normal on this blimp?" Vinyl asked. Octavia looked around.

"Maybe the... uh..." Octavia began, gesturing towards a rather fat pony with a thick black moustache. "...generously built pony over there?"

"Ooh la la! Mais qu'est ce que ce vol me rend malade! Oh, mais je jure!" he exclaimed. Octavia's face fell.

"Oh, never mind. He's from Prance."

Vinyl chuckled. "So we have two crackpot brothers, a crazy weather pony, and monsieur Lala over there. Quite a cast. And who says we can't meet interesting people?"

"Well, I for one can't wait to get to Trottingham," Octavia said. "I think my stomach is finally calming down."

"Enough to order food?" Vinyl asked.

"Perhaps," Octavia replied.

She glanced at the menu, drowning out the noise surrounding her. They did have a rather large selection of food, she noticed. She wondered if she'd perhaps take the seaweed salad?

There was a loud noise behind her, like a door being slammed open, but she didn't pay attention: all she noticed was the fit mare from earlier storming in looking confused. It was when Vinyl tapped her hoof that she finally looked up.

"What, what?"

Vinyl looked at her, her face even paler than usual. "Something's wrong. One of the passengers has found a body."

Octavia got to her hooves, cursing her lack of attention. Her stomach lurched. She shouldn't have stood quite so quickly.

"What?"

She looked over at the source of commotion. The fit looking mare who Vinyl had guessed was a fitness instructor was panicking.

"There's blood everywhere! Quick, is anypony a doctor?" she cried. Doctor Schwartz got to his hooves.

"I'm a doctor. Take me to him."

"He's in room ten! Hurry!"

Octavia's curiosity was piqued. "An accident?"

"Probably," Vinyl replied. "Who'd want to hurt anypony?"

Octavia had no idea. The idea of foul play seemed ludicrous. Still, Octavia couldn't help but be worried. "I don't know, but what if somepony really did try to kill somepony? We should check it out."

Vinyl hesitated. "I'm not really sure we should get involved... isn't this the captain's business?"

The barpony finally spoke up. "Now, now! Everypony remain calm. I'm sure that there's nothing to be worried about."

Octavia couldn't help herself. Her curiosity was piqued. Vinyl saw her face, and sighed.

"You want to go see, don't you?"

"I have to know. Every time I fight my curiosity it just gets worse."

Vinyl groaned. "Okay, well, I'm coming too. Just try not to cause a commotion."

The barpony shook his head, distraught at the chaos. "Everypony remain calm. I'll go alert the captain."

Octavia grabbed Vinyl by the hoof and trotted out towards room ten. Already a few ponies had gathered there: the doctor, Schwartz, the 'fitness instructor', and the pony from Prance. Octavia peered over the doctor's shoulder. She regretted the decision instantly.

She recognized the engineer who had bustled past her earlier, and somehow that made it worse. One thing was for sure, though: this was no accident. Octavia was almost frightened by the speed she had been drawn to the injury on the back of his head. She backed away.

Vinyl nudged her, drawing her out of her stupor.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Octavia swallowed.

"I'm feeling a bit airsick again, actually," she lied.

Vinyl tipped her glasses down, eyeing Octavia carefully. "I'd sit down if I were you."

Doctor Schwartz shook his head, disappointed. "Yup, he's gone. For at least two hours... must have happened just after we took off."

"But we were all in the restaurant when we took off, weren't we?" the fitness instructor asked. Vinyl bit her lip.

"Actually, I was with Doctor Schwartz on the port side," Octavia said. Schwartz turned towards Vinyl.

"You, on the other hoof..."

Octavia's jaw dropped. "I'm sorry, are you suspecting Vinyl of murder? She doesn't even know this pony."

Schwartz sighed. "Listen, I'm no detective, I'm just pointing out that we saw her arrive in the restaurant only after we were well in the air."

Octavia snorted. "That's ridiculous. Any number of us could have made our way from the restaurant unseen. After all, how many of us were paying attention?"

"Yeah!" Vinyl exclaimed.

All four ponies went silent as they reflected on what happened. Eventually, the barpony arrived, shaking his head, as if to clear his thoughts. He coughed twice before speaking up.

"Okay, mares and gentlecolts. Unfortunately due to traffic back at Canterlot, we have been instructed to continue to Trottingham. I'm in charge of keeping everypony calm."

Schwartz nodded. "Good to see somepony take charge. Although I'd feel better if we knew who the killer was."

"At this point, I think it would be best to remain in pairs, and if possible remain in the restaurant," he said. The fitness mare raised her eyebrow.

"How will that help catch the killer?"

"Well... it won't, but it will keep everypony safe."

"Not much of a guarantee!"

"Listen," the barpony continued, "Our number one priority is making sure we make it to Trottingham safe and sound."

"Shouldn't we lock up any suspects?" she asked persistently. "Like this unicorn, for example!" she added, gesturing at Vinyl. The DJ backed away, horrified.

"This again? I told you, it wasn't..."

"Well, actually, your room is next to room number ten," the barpony pointed out. It's a bit of a coincidence."

Octavia decided to speak up. She wasn't about to let her friend take the blame for something she didn't do.

"Well, who's room is number ten?"

"Nopony's," the bartender explained, "It's an empty cabin."

"Well, how could Vinyl know that it was empty?" Octavia asked. The barpony shrugged.

"Well, I'm not sure, but it wouldn't be too difficult to figure out. It's the only one that's unlocked during flight, since nopony claimed it. And besides, can you guarantee that she hasn't been the slightest bit suspicious on this flight?"

Octavia hesitated. It did seem strange that Vinyl would omit to tell her what flight she had been on before they met up... it was an awfully suspicious coincidence. Against her better judgement, Octavia pursued that line of thought to a rather unsettling conclusion: Vinyl could have been covering her tracks, and hiding her involvement from her. Could she had selected the flight, and then attempted to do away with the engineer whilst trying to hide where she was from her friends in case she was interrogated later?

"I... can't guarantee that," Octavia admitted. "But you're all missing a vital piece of evidence: I know Vinyl, and she'd never kill anypony. Unless it was with sheer volume, of course."

Vinyl smiled wanly. "Thanks, 'Tavi, but I think their minds are made up."

The barpony sighed. "Listen, I just can't take any chances. I'm going to lock you up in storage: I'll make sure you have plenty of food and drink. There's just too many coincidences surrounding you."

Octavia shook her head, unimpressed. "You're just afraid! I'm telling you—"

Vinyl put her hoof on Octavia's shoulder reassuringly. "Look, I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you right now."

Octavia harrumphed. "My airsickness isn't that bad."

"I meant that there's a killer on this ship, and it's not me."

Octavia paled. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Yeah, well maybe you should think about yourself for once. Everypony on this ship could be in danger for all we know."

Octavia narrowed her eyes. "I find that highly unlikely. Either somepony had a specific grudge against the engineer... ahem, what was his name?"

"Cogs," supplied the barpony. "I'm Stronghoof."

"Very well. Either somepony had a grudge against him, or this was a spur of the moment decision. In either case, it seems infeasible that all of us will become targets by this mystery killer."

Vinyl grinned. "Well, I think you'd better get to trying to figure out who the killer really is."

Octavia shook her head, shocked. Vinyl couldn't possibly expect her to locate a murderer?

"That's insane, Vinyl."

"Yeah, maybe, but who else is going to keep us safe?" Vinyl asked. "We're sitting ducks unless we figure this out, and you're the smartest pony I know."

Stronghoof nodded. "Well, if you want to help the investigation, that couldn't hurt, could it? I mean... I'm still going to lock Vinyl up, but realistically, we need to cover our bases. Captain Gasbag can't interfere: he has to fly the ship."

"That's fair," Octavia said. "Well, let's start by rounding up the passengers. The restaurant should be adequate, I imagine."

"What for?" asked Stronghoof. Schwartz and the other pony looked intrigued.

"I'd like to ask them why they're on this ship."

Vinyl turned to the barpony. "If it's not too much trouble, could I ask you for a diagram of the ship?"

Stronghoof shook his head. "No, I don't want to take that risk. You're still the most likely suspect."

Octavia sighed. "I suppose it is a bit too much to ask... what did you want it for?"

"To see where the killer could have come from. You know, routes and that sort of thing," Vinyl said. "I'm not a total doofus myself, you know."

Octavia nodded apprehensively. It was a good idea, and it could impact her investigation significantly. But of course, she couldn't get a diagram for Vinyl with everypony afraid of her... she'd just have to do it herself.

"All right. Stronghoof, could you ask the captain to get everypony to remain in the restaurant area? It's vital we keep an eye on everypony."

"Of course, of course, but first I have to escort your friend to storage where we can contain her."

Octavia nodded. "Of course," she said. To Vinyl, she added, "I'll sort this out. I promise."

Vinyl chuckled nervously. "I'll hold you to that."

Chapter Two: The Investigation Begins

Vinyl was quickly shut inside the small storage room behind the bar, making herself at home among the food and bottles kept there. She was given a chair, and even though she was technically a prisoner, she looked quite comfortable when Octavia closed the door on her, despite looking a bit scared. It really was unfair that Vinyl should take the blame for this, but Octavia knew that there were more important things at stake than arguing for her freedom. Vinyl was not the culprit, and that meant that there was a killer on the loose, putting everypony in danger.

Captain Gasbag had ordered everypony to the living room, ready for Stronghoof and her to interrogate them. This was, after all, an emergency, and none of them resisted. A few were outraged, to be sure, but they all agreed it was for the best.

"All right, everypony," Stronghoof shouted. "We all need you to calmly give your name and your reasons for travelling."

"Why do we need yo tell you that?" asked the fat pony from Prance. Doctor Schwartz sighed.

"Because currently, the only ponies we know are innocent are myself, the bartender, Stronghoof, and Octavia here."

Octavia paused, and thought. Was that true? Was Schwartz truly innocent? He had been with her when the airship had took off, and it seemed unlikely that he'd have had time to escape notice, and get to the other side of the airship. Aside from the restaurant area, there was only one way to go from the port side to the starboard side, and from what Stronghoof had said, only somepony with a key could have gotten through. That means Stronghoof, and the engineer, Cogs.

No, Octavia thought. It was too unlikely. Schwartz wasn't the killer: it didn't make sense.

What about Stronghoof, she wondered? He'd have to have been tending to the bar. He couldn't slip away... unless it was to get drinks or food. But again, the place were those things were kept, in storage, was isolated from the rest of the ship. He couldn't make his way from there to where Cogs was found dead without abandoning his post, and unlike a passenger stealing away, the barpony going missing would be far more noticeable.

Again, it seemed like he was innocent. But as for the rest of the passengers, that was yet to be confirmed. A worse thought struck her: could she prove the innocence of the captain as easily? She glanced at Stronghoof. Would he be able to vouch for the captain like she was able to vouch for Vinyl? Would she even care?

"Stronghoof, the captain would be able to get from the port side to starboard without going through the restaurant, correct?"

The barpony nodded. "Yes, that's correct. Why?"

Octavia paused to think. Would the Captain have a hoof in this? Think. If Gasbag wanted to commit murder, how would he best accomplish his goal?

Octavia frowned. No, that wouldn't make sense... if it was premeditated murder, the captain would just follow him to a hotel, or something... he'd have more than enough time. Why would he pick now to commit a murder? He'd be an obvious suspect.

"I suppose he is the one flying this thing. That doesn't leave a lot of opportunity to commit murder," she admitted to herself. No, it wasn't likely at all. Although that went for all the other passengers, too. Possible, but not likely. She'd have to wait and see how her investigation progressed.

"In that case, let's get started."

The first to speak up was the mare who had been near the Cog's body.

"My name is Fruitcake. I'm going to meet a team of hoof-picked bakers stationed in Trottingham."

Octavia narrowed her eyes. "Why would you meet a baking team?"

Fruitcake raised her eyebrow, confused. "...because I'm a baker too? And I'll be working with them?"

Octavia looked the mare from hoof to mane. She didn't quite fit Octavia's idea of a baker. Vinyl had thought she was a physical instructor, and Octavia had to admit she looked the part. She didn't look like she had anything to do with sugar, butter, cream, or anything else fitness related.

Fruitcake caught her confused glance. "I'm a really healthy baker, okay?"

"Um, all right. What about you, over there?" Octavia asked, gesturing towards the large pony in the corner. He was the pony who had been most outraged, and had babbled in his own language for a bit before settling down.

"Me? I am named Trofort, if you must understand it," he replied.

"And what are you doing on this flight?"

"I am art dealer," Trofort continued tersely. "I sell the paintings and the sculptures and all the pretty babioles."

"I see. So you're on your way to Trottingham in order to sell art?" Stronghoof asked. Octavia grimaced. She would much rather that he didn't assist the passengers in answering their questions: it would make covering up their motives easier if they were stressed. As expected, Trofort nodded.

"This is true. I am doing a deal."

Octavia leaned in towards Stronghoof. "Maybe not help him along next time?" she whispered.

It was time to investigate the two inventor twins, Flim and Flam. She sighed: this would be troublesome.

"All right... what reason can you two give for going to Trottingham?"

Flim grinned. "We designed a machine!"

"A flying machine!"

"Revolutionary!"

"Incredible!"

"We were going to have it presented before the Royal Board of Engineers. If we were lucky, we could have funds to start a brand new line of fliers!"

Octavia interrupted by raising her hoof. "I thought you said it was a... core? The Flim core or the Flam core?"

"That is just the power source. The design has many mechanical innovations, too," Flam explained.

"If we could have it manufactured on a large scale, we'd be rich!"

"Of course, we could just sell it for thousands of bits, but why be a millionaire when you can be a billionaire?"

They then threw their straw hats into the air for some form of dramatic effect. They were probably better showponies than they were engineers, Octavia thought.

She decided she had heard enough, and politely let them be. She'd have to decide if they were lying later... they could, after all, have been prepared. A lot of what they said sounded rehearsed, but was that just their sales pitch, or a cover?

There was one last pony remaining: the weatherpony, Sly.

If anypony looked suspicious, it was him. Quiet, reserved, and always with that strange look, darting from cloud to cloud.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Your name?"

"I told you my name."

"Tell me again," Octavia insisted. Sly blinked.

"I'm Sly. I work in weather. I look at the sky. I... know things about the sky."

"Like what?"

"Like what clouds should be where. Cumulus. Cirronimbus. Altocumulus. Cirrus. Green clouds. They're the worst."

"And why are you going to Trottingham?"

"Visiting family."

Stronghoof grunted. "That's a bit flimsy, as excuses go," he whispered to Octavia.

The cellist wasn't so sure. A pair of engineers, going to the Royal Board of Engineering, a baker on her way to a special baking team... all of these excuses were just so... convenient. Visiting family seemed like the first normal excuse she had heard on this whole trip, aside from being a member of staff.

"I'm not so sure," she replied under her breath. She pulled up a chair and sat down: her stomach was beginning to act up again. "Well, now that's over with, maybe we can get on to doing some real investigations," she said. "I think our first job is to search the ship."

The first place Octavia investigated was the machine room. Stronghoof tapped the humming engines playfully.

"I always liked machines. I once wanted to be an engineer myself," he admitted.

Octavia made a mental note of that fact. She was no detective: she had no idea what small piece of information could prove critical later on. All she really wanted was to find the killer and get Vinyl out of storage. She closed her eyes, and pictured the layout of the ship.

The engine room was situated above the cabins and restaurant, and could be accessed by the balcony. The only thing Octavia knew about Cogs was that before he died, she had seen him trot past her on the port side, and he had ended up dead on the starboard side. Where was he coming from?

The engine room? If he had wanted, couldn't he just have gone to the port side directly?

Octavia hummed in keeping with the melody of the machines. She pictured them as an orchestra, delivering a fine symphony. Yes, she could hear it now... the boiler was the drums, and the engines were the strings.

She smiled to herself. Of course, the ship had been delayed because of technical difficulties: it would make sense for Cogs to visit the Captain and discuss things before take-off. And what were these technical difficulties? Did they play into this somehow?

"Stronghoof... we were delayed, weren't we? Do you know why?"

"Something was wrong with the machines, I think," the barpony replied. "I don't know the details."

"Well, fortunately we have two ponies on board who might have an idea," Octavia said. "Better bring Flim and Flam up here: I think they'll have fun with around this place anyway."

Stronghoof frowned, concerned. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Well, you'll keep an eye on them, of course. They are a rather likely pair of suspects."

"Why do you say that?" Stronghoof asked.

"Well, each and every passenger can testify that they were in the restaurant when we believe Cogs was murdered, right after take-off, but I don't think that's reliable. Due to their noise, and the fact that they resemble each other so closely, it's not so much of a stretch that one of them could have escaped notice and done away with Cogs, for whatever reason. It also makes more sense that they might have some relationship with Cogs that would encourage them to commit murder: they share the same field, after all."

"So you're saying that they have possible motive, and opportunity?"

"That's what I think. My only problem is that they seem too... insane to commit murder."

"Isn't that counter-intuitive?"

"Perhaps, but they don't strike me as killers," Octavia told him. Of course, she thought, Vinyl did always tell her that she always saw the best in others... not entirely true, but perhaps the DJ knew her better than she thought she knew herself...

"But if I'm up here keeping an eye on Flim and Flam, what will you be doing?"

"I had Doctor Schwartz stay in the restaurant for a reason," Octavia admitted. "I want to ask him some questions. I also need to have everypony's room numbers."

Stronghoof sighed. "Well, all right. I have the list in my register."

"Good, that will be very helpful. I also want to discuss things with Vinyl."

Stronghoof narrowed his eyes. "I still don't trust her. She was in the right place at the right time, after all."

"Yes, yes, but I could use her help. She may not act like it, but she's very smart."

"I'm not convinced."

"Then why are you even investigating anymore, hmm?" Octavia asked tersely. "If your mind is so made up, why not sit back, relax. Have a drink? I know I could use a drink right about now."

Stronghoof didn't reply instantly, but instead grumbled and trotted outside.

"Let's just get going, shall we?" he snapped. Octavia smiled to herself: she had won the argument.

Both ponies clambered down the metal staircase to the passenger level, and entered the restaurant from the balcony. Everypony was still there, which was both a good sign, and an annoying one. Octavia trotted towards Schwartz.

"All right, I'm going to discuss things over here," she told Stronghoof. "I'd recommend you get Flim and Flam up to maintenance as soon as possible."

Stronghoof nodded. "Okay, but please try to be careful. Because she's your friend, I don't think you're seriously considering Vinyl as a suspect."

That couldn't have been further from the truth. It scared Octavia that, having arrived on separate trains, it looked suspiciously like Vinyl had been avoiding giving any information to her. Octavia had done the same, of course, but it didn't help dispel that incredibly dark feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Before she was able to greet Doctor Schwartz properly, she yawned in a very unladylike manner. She checked outside: despite the clouds, it was very definitely night time. She shook her head, amazed that the investigation had taken so long. Time really did fly.

"Well? What about our little experiment?"

Schwartz smiled. "It worked quite well, I think. And I have a new suspect for you."

Octavia grinned. She'd never admit it, but she was enjoying herself.

Just before leaving to investigate the engine room, she had tasked Doctor Schwartz with creating a distraction in the restaurant. He was to flip a table over, make a lot of noise, or do anything he could to attract all the attention in the room. And when he did, he would stop, and observe.

"Our art dealer left, briefly. Didn't know such a big pony could move so quietly: I almost missed him."

Interesting. So Trofort had gone against their instructions and left? For what reason? It definitely warranted investigation.

"Good. That gives us another lead. Now excuse me, I'm going to see Vinyl."

She then slid behind the bar, remembering to pick up the register along the way. She'd need to check the room numbers later: it could make a vital difference to the investigation.

She unlocked the door, and peered inside. Vinyl was tapping her hoof and moving her head in response to some invisible rhythm. Her eyes snapped open when Octavia entered the small room.

"Hi," Vinyl said, sitting up.

"How are you holding up?"

"More worried about you than anything else. I'm safe and sound in here, after all."

It often surprised Octavia how caring Vinyl could be, when push came to shove. More often than not, she'd be ready with a quip or a joke, not concern. It was at times like these when Octavia could see what kind of pony her roommate really was.

"I'd like to discuss things with you."

Vinyl's ears flicked with interest. "Oh yeah? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about us being delayed. We were in the engine room, and I had Flim and Flam sent up there to check things out."

The DJ frowned. "That won't accomplish much if they caused the delay. They'll just say that they won't find any sign of damage or wear," she said, before understanding dawned. "Unless of course that's what you want to find out."

"Correct. I believe that any damage worth delaying the ship for would leave some trace, somewhere. If they don't find anything, well, that's one more reason to suspect them."

"And if they do find something?"

"Then they'll look innocent... or at least, more innocent than before."

"Is there anypony else you're thinking of?"

"I had the good doctor keep an eye on everypony whilst providing a distraction with which they could escape. Trofort, an art dealer, took advantage of our little ploy."

"Sounds suspicious."

"It is. I was going to use the register to find his room, then search it until something came up."

"And if nothing does?"

"Then I try something different," Octavia replied. "But if Trofort's room is on the starboard side, then that opens up a few theories."

"Sure, sure... and what will you do once you find the killer?"

"Stronghoof detains him. He's hiding, so he obviously doesn't want conflict. I doubt he can take us on, not if we gang up on him."

"Sounds risky."

"Well, this was never going to be safe, you know," Octavia said, smiling. Vinyl was not amused. "Oh, lighten up. There's nothing we can do about it so we might as well just get going."

"I guess," Vinyl admitted.

"Don't worry: I'll have you out of here soon."

"Sure, but that's just the start. Then there's the real killer we'll have to deal with."

"I'm sure Stronghoof and Schwartz can handle him... or her, together."

Octavia then opened the register, and began reading. It didn't take her too long before she found Trofort's name, and his room number too.

"Room number six. That's the starboard side."

"Well? What does that tell you?" Vinyl asked.

"Nothing much, but it does give me a few ideas."

"...like the engineer having seen something of Trofort's, and then being killed for it?"

Octavia nodded. "Exactly. Now excuse me, I have to go and investigate somepony's room."

"Why is it I under suspicion? What have I done to deserve this?"

Trofort was buzzing around his cabin furiously like an angry hornet. Schwartz kept interposing himself between him and Octavia, letting her search the room in peace

Why would Trofort sneak out of the restaurant? It wasn't to go to the bathroom as he had claimed upon investigation. He wouldn't have had to sneak out for that. No, he was hiding something, and Octavia wanted to know what it was.

There were only so many reasons that he'd want to leave for. If it was related to the crime, then it'd have to be either the body, or his room. Why? Octavia figured that he'd be hiding evidence, or tampering with the crime scene. The way he was sweating meant that he was afraid: Octavia decided upon inspection that whatever he didn't want her to find was in his room.

But what could he be hiding? What indeed? The murder weapon? They hadn't found that in room number ten. Octavia was under the impression that Vinyl's theory was right: Cogs must have seen something incriminating, and Trofort killed him for it.

The question was, what was it? And where would it be hiding?

Octavia wished that she had read more detective novels instead of her sappy romance stories. The ones where the hero could deduce things just by looking at a clock, or a mirror. All Octavia had was her reason, and a bit of knowledge on equine nature.

"Just pretend it's a symphony..." she muttered. "The allegro is done, and the brass is silent... waiting, hiding... where? Where?"

Schwartz looked at her as if she had gone mad. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm just thinking," she explained.

Where wouldn't she look? It couldn't be that complicated. Trofort was in a hurry. Just pick the most unlikely spot...

Octavia grumbled. No, that would be too simple. She had to pretend to be stupid. This wasn't a symphony... this was karaoke.

The bed. Trofort's luggage lay on top of it, open. There wasn't any sign of wrinkles on the covers.

Luggage, but no wrinkles? Octavia smiled. It had been flattened. Something large and flat was underneath, keeping everything straight. Something that wasn't meant to be there.

Octavia took a few steps back, then leaped onto the incredibly comfortable, double feather bed, spreading her hooves out. She landed with a bounce, taking up almost all the space.

Schwartz widened his eyes, confused. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Octavia nodded. "Oh, yes, but I do think that my leg his something uncomfortable..."

Trofort backed away. "Non, non, this is not... this is not allowed."

Octavia threw the quilt off and then the sheet. Underneath was a large, rectangular object. A canvas.

Octavia pulled the painting out, examining it attentively. Schwartz looked from Trofort to Octavia.

"It's a painting. Why is that so strange? Trofort did say he was an art dealer."

Octavia nodded.

"Yes, but I don't think this is the sort of painting he should have his hooves on. This, if my memory serves, is a Piecasso. Even you must be familiar with the name."

Schwartz nodded. "A painter and rock sculptor, right? My niece is quite infatuated with his work."

Octavia nodded. "Apparently, working on a rock farm is good for one's artistic talent. However, I don't need much creativity to guess how it got into Trofort's possession."

Trofort backed away some more.

"You're not an art dealer at all... you're an art smuggler."

"Merde."

Octavia smirked. "Language!"

Schwartz was a big pony. He was strong boned and muscular, and didn't have any trouble intimidating the criminal. Trofort babbled a little in his own language.

"Now then, all we need to do now is connect the dots, right?" Octavia said. "I can't imagine a canvas is easy to hide. Did somepony see it, perhaps? Maybe... the engineer?"

"I did not kill the pony!" Trofort exclaimed. Octavia scowled.

"It's looking awfully likely. Commit one crime, it's more than probable you'd commit another."

"I have class! I do not murder ponies," Trofort snapped. "Anyway, the ingenieur, he saw nothing. I was too good."

"I disagree. Schwartz? I think it's time we let Vinyl outside again, wouldn't you say?"

"One more!" Vinyl exclaimed, sliding the empty glass across the table. Octavia sighed.

"Vinyl, Schwartz isn't the bartender. He was kind enough to make you three drinks already..."

"Yes, but they put them in these silly sized cups," Vinyl replied, pointing at the containers with disdain. "Seriously, is this the sampler size?"

Octavia shook her head. She could tell Vinyl was feeling better now that she was beginning to be selfish and abrasive again. Even though she put on a tough face, it couldn't have been easy being locked up in storage, everypony thinking you were a killer.

"I think that's the regular size."

"Well, I want a large. Where is Stronghoof, anyway? Isn't he going to pay me back for locking me in his little storage room?"

"He's still babysitting Flim and Flam," Octavia said. "In fact, I think it's time I go up and check."

Vinyl nodded, and got to her hooves. "You know what? I'm going with you. My legs need stretching."

Both ponies went past Sly, who was muttering to himself. "Clouds are clearing up... much too late. Should have cleared up earlier."

He glanced at Octavia, and gave her the slightest hint of a smile. "Good work. I can tell you're smart."

Octavia couldn't help but grin: she all but thrived on praise. "Why thank you. Enjoying your clouds?"

"No. They shouldn't be here. We were scheduled clear skies. Doesn't matter. They're clearing up now... soon we'll be able to see the moon, stars... all the stars. I know about stars, you know? For travelling. Big Dipper, Ursa Major..."

"Yes, that's all very interesting, thank you," Octavia said. "I think I'll be moving on, now."

Leaving Sly behind, Octavia and Vinyl clambered up the metal stairs to the engine room. The noise was deafening: from the engines, yes, but also from the two brothers chattering. Stronghoof had his head in his hooves. It looked like he was about to go mad himself.

"You know that we caught Trofort, right?" Octavia asked. Stronghoof nodded.

"Yes, but I can't leave them in the engine room! What if they break something? The administration will have my head if they do!"

Vinyl snorted. "Man up! You've already let 'Tavi do the whole investigation for you, it's about time you toughen up a bit."

Octavia nudged Vinyl sharply. "Manners!"

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

Stronghoof sighed. "If you can get them to stop babbling for five minutes, you might even get something coherent from them. I can't, though: all they say is long and weird. They started talking about vectors! What kind of madpony starts comparing ponies to vectors? Mad, I tell you!"

Octavia sighed, and trotted over to the pair. Vinyl was close behind her.

"Well, gentlecolts, did you find anything interesting?" she asked. Flim continued examining some sort of furnace, but Flam span around to face the two mares.

"Why, yes indeed! The cause of the calamity that befell this brilliant machine. At first, it was quite the conundrum, wasn't it, brother?"

"It was! The pressure in the boiler was too high. Had we not found it and fixed it, we would have suffered a rather terrible engine failure in less than an hour."

"We'd have been disabled! Stuck until rescue found us."

Octavia frowned. "Why is this puzzling? It's disturbing, I appreciate that, but you said it was a 'conundrum'."

Vinyl tapped her friend's shoulder. "If they did maintenance before leaving, why would it be broken?"

The two unicorns nodded. "Exactly! We spend the next hour trying to figure out what in the Laws of Motion was going on, but so far... nothing."

Octavia tapped her chin, deep in thought. Vinyl looked at her, concerned.

"Are you thinking..." she began, unable to finish. Octavia nodded.

"Sabotage."

Both Vinyl and Octavia's blood went cold. "Cogs sabotaged the ship?" Vinyl asked.

"That could have something to do with why he was killed."

Octavia felt her airsickness returning, and with a vengeance. Vinyl helped steady her. "But Trofort... that doesn't fit. It doesn't make sense..."

Comforted by Vinyl's presence, she shook her head, clearing her mind of uncertainty. "We need to get back to the restaurant. I'm afraid that the killer is still on the loose."

"Sounds like a plan. Can you walk on your own? You're looking a little grey," Vinyl said. "Well, greyer than usual."

"I'll be fine, thank you," Octavia replied. "Now hurry!"

They both rushed past Stronghoof, who looked at them in shock. They clattered down the rickety metal stairs to the balcony, and stormed into the restaurant.

"Is everypony still here?!" Vinyl shouted. Schwartz looked up, surprised.

"No... Sly took off. He looked really panicked, too... Fruitcake went looking for him."

Octavia leaned on one of the tables. She felt like she was going to be sick. "Where is she now?"

It was at that moment that Fruitcake charged back into the restaurant. "I can't find Sly anywhere... but I did find..." she stuttered, holding out a small, blood-stained feather. Octavia held her head in her hooves.

"But Trofort is trapped... Sly has no motive... was he attacked? Was he the attacker? Could Flim have escaped Stronghoof? Would anypony have noticed? Fruitcake... no, there's too many things I don't know and it's driving me crazy!..."

Vinyl stopped Octavia forcefully by snapping her head around to face her. "Hey! Get it together. Remember the symphony? I don't know, some fancy-pants thing you like to mutter about under your breath..."

Octavia couldn't focus on Vinyl properly. "I'll have you know I only ever met Mr. Pants the one time..."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Just chill. We can still figure this out if you're calm!"

Vinyl then took of her glasses, staring straight into Octavia's eyes, unblinkingly. Octavia stared back.

Her breathing slowed, gradually.

"Yes... yes, all right."

Vinyl smirked. "Jeez, you're high maintenance."

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry."

Vinyl patted her friend on the back. "Well, I guess we have another problem to solve."

"Yes, we do," Octavia said, summarizing everything she knew. "But we're not clueless just yet..."

Chapter Three: The Musician's Finale

Octavia and Vinyl were tearing Sly's room apart, looking for any clue they could find. Unfortunately, the weatherpony travelled light. All he had with him was a change of clothes, a book on constellations, and a kite, signed 'to my dearest nephew'. A gift to his family, probably. It wasn't anything that gave Octavia much to go on.

"Sly is the victim here: he has to be," Octavia told Vinyl. "If he was the attacker, then one of the other ponies would have disappeared too."

"Or they're not telling us that he attacked them, for whatever reason," Vinyl countered.

"That seems unlikely, and I'd rather hope that we don't have two ponies on board liable to lie to us."

Vinyl nodded. "So, assume the best case scenario, because we can't handle the worst?"

"That's right."

Octavia sighed. "We can assume that Cog's killer and Sly's kidnapper are the same pony. So that means that whoever we determined innocent earlier still applies. That means it can't be Schwartz, and it can't be Stronghoof."

"We're not going to begin suspecting me again, are we?"

"Of course not, you were with me the whole time."

Vinyl paused, deep in thought. "Yeah, but consider that if Stronghoof or Schwartz gets it into their heads that we're working together, we're both in a lot of trouble."

Octavia blanched. "That's not a good thought. We'd best finish our work before then."

They heard somepony knock on the door. Vinyl slowly crept towards it, worried that it might be Sly, or whoever might have attacked him. She peered through the peep-hole.

"It's Fruitcake. Do we let her in?"

"Go ahead."

Vinyl opened the door, and the baker trotted inside. She looked pale, and worried. Octavia frowned. Could it be an act?

"Hello, ladies. I... I don't think you killed Cogs, or hurt Sly, so I'm..."

"Yes?"

Fruitcake took a deep breath. "Well, I didn't spend my whole life creating healthy and nutritious bakery products just so that somepony could murder me several thousand feet above sea level. I want to survive."

Honesty? Or was she setting them up? Octavia couldn't tell. She couldn't tell anything anymore. She looked down at her hooves angrily. She wasn't good for anything, it seemed.

"You two are the only ponies who have done anything so far. The Captain is busy flying the ship and Stronghoof couldn't investigate his way out of a paper bag, but you two... you two might get us out of here alive. Please don't let me down."

"We won't," Vinyl assured her. Fruitcake smiled.

"I know you won't. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Octavia hesitated. "I don't know."

Vinyl narrowed her eyes behind her tinted goggles. "'Tavi, don't give up just yet. Not in front of the nice lady."

Octavia sighed. "Yes, yes, I'm just having trouble organizing my thoughts right now."

Octavia needed to reason things through. Sly ran off... yes. But why?

"Sly had information. He found something out," she suggested to herself. Vinyl tilted her head.

"Okay... but all he was doing was staring out the window. Did you see him do anything else?" she asked Fruitcake. The baker shook her head.

"No... just look out the window. Then he sort of sat up, and ran off. When he didn't come back, we got worried."

Again, she could be lying, Octavia thought. But for now, let's assume she's not the killer...

"Then whatever he saw out the window had to give him some information. It sounds strange, but it has to be true."

Vinyl shrugged, lost. "But there's nothing out there. Just sky."

"Okay, but what's in the sky?" Octavia asked. Keep on bouncing ideas back and forth... something would give her a clue.

"Uh... clouds. He was always saying that it was too cloudy."

Fruitcake nodded. "He was a bit unhinged, if you ask me."

"It wasn't cloudy," Octavia corrected. "It still isn't. The clouds cleared up just when we left to go to the engine room."

"So... something behind the clouds? Something that was hidden behind the clouds gave Sly a clue?" Vinyl asked.

"But there isn't anything behind the clouds!" Fruitcake exclaimed. Vinyl glanced at the book of constellations lying on the table.

"No... it's night time. There are stars."

Vinyl stepped out of the cabin and into the corridor, and began looking at the sky. Octavia followed her, curious.

"We should get to wherever Sly was sitting when he left. That means the restaurant," she suggested.

All three ponies hurried down the corridor. Octavia's heart was racing. She felt she was onto something... they had to be close.

Schwartz, Stronghoof, and the Flim Flam brothers were all there, staring at them. Octavia and Vinyl pushed past them to where Sly was sitting. Then they both stared out the window. Vinyl flicked through the constellation booklet, trying to find some recognizable star. It didn't take her long.

"Well, there's the north star," she said, pointing. "That's a start, right?"

Octavia nodded. "The north star. It's easy to spot, at least," she said. "What's so special about the north star, though? Apart from it pointing north, of course."

More importantly, why would Sly think it's important? Octavia tried to ignore the fact that Sly was more than a little strange. What would a sane pony panic at? What caused that reaction?

When something wasn't where it was supposed to be.

"Oh dear..." Octavia muttered. "Trottingham is to the north-east of Canterlot. This is the rear of the airship."

Vinyl widened her eyes as understanding dawned. "That's not good."

All the pieces began to fall into place. Octavia slumped, her head banging against the window, gently. It was like all the answers were rushing into her mind all at once.

"The ship is going the wrong way. This wasn't murder... we're being hijacked."

Octavia and Schwartz cantered up the corridors towards the pilot's cabin. Octavia felt like kicking herself for not realizing it sooner. She had just assumed that the pony keeping them all in the air had their best interests at heart.

"We need to get Captain Gasbag away from the airship controls," Octavia exclaimed. "At all costs."

It made sense: only a member of staff could have gotten through the locked door that connected the port and starboard sides. And it's possible that, if he was quick, he could have killed Cogs and hid him in room ten, the only empty room. And he would have known that the room was empty: he'd have had access to the register.

Both ponies charged through the door into the small compartment. It was filled with switches and levers. In the centre of the room was a chair, and this chair was occupied by a grizzled looking earth pony. Captain Gasbag.

"Excuse me, you can't be up here," he snapped. "I was fine letting you examine the engine room so you could try to find a killer, but I actually need to concentrate."

"We're here because we found the killer," Octavia replied. She eyed a large wardrobe, the kind used to store uniforms and tools. She gave it a gentle kick. The door slowly swung open, revealing the tied up body of Sly, his face covered in blood, but very much alive. "It's you."

Gasbag groaned. "Oh, good. My hostages are rebelling. Well, isn't this day just fan-bucking-tastic."

Schwartz shook his head in frustration, obviously not comprehending the reason for the captain's betrayal. "Why? I don't understand what's going on!"

"I think I can explain," Octavia began, cautiously. "See, if I'm correct, you aren't actually our captain at all, are you, Mr. Gasbag? You're a thief, and Cogs was your partner."

Schwartz looked back at the captain in amazement. The old earth pony shrugged. "Correct so far. It wasn't easy posing as a captain, let me tell you. Security checks as far as the eye can see."

"You were hired by somepony... or are maybe just acting on your own... to steal something very, very valuable. Something I didn't think could be stolen. At first I thought it might be Trofort's Piecasso, but you don't need to hijack an airship to steal that. You're after the Flim-Flam brother's machine, aren't you?"

"Uh, huh," Gasbag grunted. "Right again."

"But there are some steps to your plan, steps that are hard to figure out. I think you took over the airship and flew away from Trottingham so that nopony could find you. And even if they did, you had measures in place to deal with them: you sabotaged the airship, meaning that help would be more preoccupied saving us, the passengers, than going after you, who'd have escaped using the flyer. After the original maintenance check before taking off, you had to get Cogs to tinker with the engines, which resulted in our flight being delayed."

Octavia began pacing angrily. "But you got greedy, and you wanted all the money for yourself. Killing your partner, Cogs, was the only way to make sure you got all the reward. He wasn't needed any more, after all: he had already performed the sabotage."

"He did a good job, too. Of course, you made his death meaningless by getting those brothers to fix it."

"Sly figured out that you were going the wrong way... he panicked, and he decided to go inform the captain. He didn't realize that it was no mistake, and that you were leading us away from our destination purposefully. Now, step away from the controls."

"Oh, really? And what happens once I do?"

"Help arrives," Octavia explained. "I have a friend who's very well versed in all things electronic, and she's using a few odds and ends to call Cloudsdale as we speak. Stronghoof, the only real member of staff left aboard, knows exactly who to call."

Gasbag grinned. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't waste any time, then," he said. Octavia's eyes widened.

Gasbag slammed one of the levers down as hard as he could, and instantly the airship tilted forwards. Octavia screamed.

"Stop him!" she exclaimed, but Schwartz was too slow. Gasbag shoved him aside in the chaos and began hurtling up the corridors. "He's trying to get to the cargo hold! That's where Vinyl and Stronghoof are!"

Schwartz tried to clamber after the rogue captain, but he was unable to stand up properly. The airship was plummeting downwards. Octavia was about to say her prayers when she saw Flim and Flam pop their heads through the door to the cabin.

"Oh, thank Celestia! Can you fly this thing?" she asked.

"If it's built by pony..."Flim began.

"...we can fly it!" Flam finished.

Octavia then grit her teeth and tried forcing her way up the corridor after Gasbag. She had to make sure Vinyl was safe.

Vinyl was still handling the device she had created in the hold next to the Flim-Flam-Flier when Gasbag entered the room, doing her best not to fall over as gravity went crazy. It didn't take her long to figure out that Gasbag was trying to make his escape.

"Stronghoof!" she shouted, warning her companion that the captain had arrived. The barpony charged and tackled the criminal. Gasbag was incredibly tough, however, and their fight looked evenly matched, much to Vinyl's dismay.

Octavia was the next one to enter the hold. She, too, was having difficulty standing up. She looked over at Vinyl.

"Did you manage to call for help?" she shouted. Vinyl nodded.

"Yeah! Just in time!"

Stronghoof had his hooves around Gasbag's neck, and was slowly squeezing the life out of him. Unfortunately, he was interrupted when the pilot managed to get his rear hooves under his chest, and kicked him right off. He then flicked a switch on the wall, and suddenly wind engulfed the entire hold.

Gasbag had opened the ramp. All of a sudden, everything began sliding towards the gaping maw that led the nothing but open sky, and that included Octavia, Stronghoof, and Vinyl. Stronghoof and Octavia desperately grabbed onto anything that looked halfway stationary in a desperate attempt to stop themselves from falling to their deaths.

"See you in Tartarus!" Gasbag roared, clambering aboard the flier. Or rather, he tried to: Vinyl had, in a fit of defiance, grabbed onto his leg and was pulling him back as hard as she could.

"I really hate you!" she screamed. Octavia's eyes widened as she saw the malice in Gasbag's face.

"Get off me, you dumb mare!" he snapped, and smacked Vinyl around the side of the head with a sickening 'crack'. The unicorn fell backwards, releasing Gasbag in the process, unconscious, or worse.

Then she began sliding towards the open hatch. Gasbag ignored her, and began to take off. The terrifying hum of the flier filled Octavia's ears.

She dove after Vinyl, determined to stop her from falling. She latched onto Vinyl's tail with her teeth and bit down as hard as she could.

Gasbag then flew out the hatch, finally free.

Octavia grunted, infuriated, but she could do nothing: she was too busy stopping her friend from falling to her death.

For some reason, the entire hold lit up like a kaleidoscope. Octavia assumed it had to be her mind playing tricks on her. She closed her eyes.

The wind began to die down. Octavia realized she could hear the sound of machinery: the slow hiss of the ramp being drawn up again. She tentatively opened her eyes again.

"Uh, hi?" came a voice. Octavia looked up and saw a mare, a pegasus with a rainbow mane, standing over her. "The Wonderbolts have arrived."

Vinyl was still holding her head, a large bruise spreading across her face, when the team of pegasi had landed the airship down at a nearby village. It was nowhere near Trottingham: in fact it looked almost like a desert.

"Once you gave us the approximate direction you had been travelling in, it wasn't hard for us to pinpoint your location," the captain of their team, a mare named Spitfire, had told them. "It's a good thing you found out when you did: if it had been much later, we might not have got there in time."

Vinyl grunted. "I'm just satisfied that Gasbag will be behind bars soon enough."

The pegasus who had closed the hatch, who apparently went by the name Rainbow, grinned. "It was a nice flier and all, but it doesn't really compare to the Wonderbolts. It'd need a much bigger head start than that."

"I'm just glad that the Flim Flam brothers were able to steady the ship in time," Octavia added. "He can have the flier for all I care."

"And you located a known art smuggler," Spitfire added, impressed. "Is there anything else you did for us?"

Octavia smiled. "Just those two things, I'm afraid."

Rainbow grinned sheepishly. "Could you make it three?"

"I'm sorry, I don't follow," Octavia asked.

"Well, it's just... well, I don't often meet celebrities. Aside from the Wonderbolts, the Princesses... okay, actually, I meet loads of celebrities, but..."

Understanding dawned on Vinyl. "I remember you: you were at one of my performances once, weren't you?"

Rainbow nodded. "Uh... yeah."

"Are you trying to ask Vinyl for an autograph?" Octavia asked, amused. Rainbow scratched her head.

"Well, not exactly... now, please don't tell anypony, but I actually wanted your autograph."

Spitfire glanced over at Rainbow, surprised. "Didn't take you for being a classical girl, RD."

"It's... whatever!" Rainbow snapped, embarrassed. Octavia smiled.

"Of course. I'll get around to it as soon as I find paper and pen."

Rainbow beamed. "Yes! It'll go great with my violi—... I mean, thanks."

Gasbag, bound and gagged, growled menacingly. Octavia elected to ignore him.

"I think next time I'll get to Trottingham by train. They've built a tunnel, recently."

Vinyl nodded. "I agree: whoever heard of a murder on a train?"

Spitfire grunted. "I don't trust trains. Especially when some idiot went and gave it a stupid name like the 'Blue Train'. I mean, just 'cause it goes under the water doesn't mean it has to be blue."

"Well, not everypony can fly from Cloudsdale to the Southern Borders in under a minute," Vinyl replied. "Some of us actually have to use public transport."

Octavia shook her head, amused at her friend and glad to finally be safe.

"All I wanted when I got to Trottingham was a bath. Now all I want is to never get on board an airship again. The airsickness alone is horrible."

Author's Notes:

And there you have it, another mystery solved. Good on Octavia and Vinyl.
This story took the most planning I have every done, since it involved me drawing diagrams of the ship and figuring out where everybody would be. It also originally featured flim and flam doing some sort of rap. I took that bit out.
I hope the crime was surprising, and if it wasn't, well, you are just too smart for me, I'm afraid. Whether you enjoyed it or not, I'd love to hear your comments and advice.
Also, if you know any other good mystery stories, please let me know! They don't seem to crop up that often, but it's a genre I really like, especially the more puzzle-ish ones. Pony murder is best murder (huh, that sounded wrong...).