Dawn's Candor

Chapters

Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Historical Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Preface
Chapter 2

Chapter 10

Princess Celestia walked along the balcony, taking in the warm tones that the buildings of Roam reflected from the brilliant sun that looked down upon them. She admired the contrast in architecture that the zebra designers had used in their capital, the designs influenced by the diversity of the Empire. Exotic and organic structures stood side by side with newer, formal buildings of pink marble that bespoke of imperial splendor. The city had doubled, or perhaps even tripled, in size since Celestia’s last visit, which was when the then Zebra Kingdom was only one of the loose collection of tribes, principalities, and confederations that were now united under one Caesar.

Celestia stretched out the joints in her wings. She was still sore after several days cramped aboard the ship that was currently the surest way to travel from Equestria to Roam. Out above the city’s skyline Celestia spotted the round shapes of airships floating between columns of clouds. She had wanted to fly, and even flew from Canterlot to the aerodrome in Baltimare with the intent of catching an airship to Roam. But that was before the explosion of summer storm activity had grounded flights across the ocean. Celestia used the discomfort of the journey to remind herself to push for the expansion of the rail network in southern Equestria when she returned to Canterlot. The railways would be able to connect with the Zebra lines already being built near the border. Celestia concluded that a reliable land connection between the two countries would solve many problems.

The Caesar was due to arrive shortly from a visit to inspect the construction of the railways. Celestia had spent her time waiting by wandering through the city. She had met with the Equestrian ambassadors for a lovely lunch to discuss policy; such conversations were boring, but Celestia had found that the local cuisine was certainly more exciting, albeit spicy.

After lunch, Celestia had discovered a bookstore amid the plethora of shops that sprouted up along the main avenues. She went in hoping to find a book for her pupil, Twilight, that the studious pony had not yet read. A book titled The Starscape Letters, complete with a parallel translation into Ponish beside the vernacular of Roam, seemed like a promising gift. She browsed the store further to try to find a book for Luna but came up short. When she asked the storekeeper for recommendations, he showed her a section dedicated to the legends of Nightmare Moon; Celestia decided to try another store for her sister but thanked him anyways.

Celestia had spent the next two hours searching for the right souvenir for her sister. Luna’s letter troubled her, and she wanted to cheer her sister up with something special. She had not found anything when a messenger from the palace had prompted her to return for her audience with the Caesar. Celestia let her thoughts mull over her sister while she waited, her elegant frame leaning against the balcony railing. A clattering of hooves behind her brought her attention back to the present.

“Princess Celestia, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? A long time it has been, hasn’t it?” the Caesar announced as he stepped onto the balcony with the Equestrian princess. Celestia smiled warmly at the graying zebra.

“Indeed, it has Caesar Grevyi. I was just admiring how much Roam has grown since I was last here. I’m proud of the prosperity you have been able to bring for your land.” Grevyi walked to the railing to stand next to Celestia.

“The good times are here but came with a cost. I cannot regain the years I lost.” Grevyi sighed. “I no longer feel tempered to handle today’s fire. I think that perhaps soon I might retire.” Celestia understood the Caesar’s sentiment, for she had grappled with it herself during the long years of her sister’s banishment.

“Who do you have in mind to take over once you step down?” Celestia asked. Grevyi pointed his hoof down to the parade ground underneath the balcony. A zebra cohort had marched in for the changing of the guard while Celestia had been looking at the city.

“My son is in command down there. When I retire, I will leave the Empire in his care.” Celestia spotted the handsome officer in his imperial blue uniform standing in front of a line of smartly-dressed legionnaires. The last time she had seen the zebra he had been a small colt. Celestia scolded herself for her reliance on letters in lieu of travel.

Bits of the evening sun glinted off brass helmets and the bayonets that tipped striped-wooden rifles as the lines of zebras passed between each other. Celestia was impressed by the precision of the display but wished her sister could see it as well; Luna had always been more interested in military matters.

Grevyi continued, “But surely your visit is more than sightseeing. On what matter do we need agreeing?”

“Unfortunately, a matter of grave implications. One of our colliers was captured by zebra pirates and the crew held hostage,” Celestia said, a frown replacing the smile she had been wearing.

“Ah yes, my intel team briefed me yesterday, it is sad to see. I hope that the ocean for our trade does not become a place for tragedy.”

“A hope which is shared, my friend,” Celestia replied with her warmest tone before proceeding to the difficult request. “Before I left for here, I organized an expedition to rescue the hostages. We believe they are on the islands north of Port Zebae. I came to ask personally if my forces have permission to use that island as a staging point.” Grevyi frowned at the request.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t allow that, but I think it’s hardly necessary. Our intelligence reports that outside our territory is where you will find your adversary.” Grevyi motioned for his aide to bring a map. He pointed his hoof to the symbols of two fortresses on the islands north of Port Zebae. “These two forts are where you will find your ponies hidden. But for the peace of my zebras the main island is strictly forbidden. You may dock in the port for coal; we will provide it free of toll.”

“Perfect,” Celestia replied with the radiance of her smile returned. She was already drafting the words of her letter to Colonel Spitfire in her mind when a load bang from below startled her. The legionnaires fired an additional two volleys to salute the Caesar, then finished their march routine. The smoke from the rifles drifted upward, blending with the distant storm clouds that gathered on the horizon.

The low rumble of the frigate’s engine had become commonplace after two days stuffed aboard in dank, cramped quarters. Dawns ears had filtered out the noise after the first day while she continued her unfulfilling work of correcting C Company’s records. The vibrations, though, still tickled her hooves whenever she walked through the ship’s narrow corridors. Which is why Dawn felt it odd that the ship seemed strangely quiet and firm when she took a break from her work to ease the rumbling hunger in her stomach.

Dawn walked above decks to see if she could ascertain the reason for the engine to stop. She remembered the coal shortage that had caused so many problems for her just a few days ago and hoped that was not the case here.

The air outside was fresh but the salty morning breezes were giving way to the stifle of midday as the sun heated up the open expanse of sea. Dawn saw Major Bolt along with a yellow pegasus in the uniform of a Wonderbolts colonel. She assumed that pony to be Colonel Spitfire. Both ponies had their telescopes drawn and were looking east. Dawn pulled her own telescope out as she took a place next to Bolt on the railing. She trained it in the general direction and saw the hazy blue shapes of land jutting out from the horizon. Her heart leapt at the prospect of setting hoof once again on dry land. Then it sank as she remembered what awaited her on that land.

“Do you see it, lieutenant?” Major Bolt asked.

“Yes, sir,” Dawn replied. “How long before we make landfall?”

“Look a little bit more north,” Bolt said. Dawn corrected her telescope’s azimuth and refocused the lens on a black smudge that became clearer as she twisted the shaft. A plume of smoke rose and trailed behind a squat black shape that rested on the ocean surface.

“That’s our pirates, alright,” Colonel Spitfire spoke, collapsing her telescope. “You think we got the engines shutdown quick enough, major?”

“Why shutdown the engines?” Dawn was confused. “Shouldn’t we use all the speed we have to catch them?”

“That was my idea – get close and let my Wonderbolts finish the job,” Spitfire said sourly. “That is, before your major here stopped me. You better be right about this, Bolt.”

“I respect the colonel’s plan, and it would work if the air weren’t as clear in front of us as it is now. The pirates aboard that ship have perfect visibility to shoot down any pegasi we throw at them,” Bolt explained. “And all the intel we have on their ship indicates that it outmatches us in speed. So, our best bet is to remain undetected and observe where it goes.”

“So, we just wait out here until the pirates sail off, then land on the island,” Dawn asked.

“For now,” Bolt said. “We will follow them under sail power until evening.”

“Some of the crusty old sailors who’ve been in these waters before say that we can expect the storms behind us to form over the islands by then,” Spitfire said, an air of impatience in her voice. “That will give us the cover we need. Besides, we are stuck on these ships,” Spitfire spat in disgust, “until we get permission to land on that island. It’s Zebra territory.”

“Could you retrieve Captain Bounce, lieutenant?” Bolt asked.

“I’m afraid she is a bit … uh … indisposed at the moment,” Dawn said, recalling the image of her captain passed out next to a bottle of Celestia knows what.

“Hmm, and how so?”

“I believe she is too fond of the grapes for herself, sir,” Dawn tried to be subtle. “And too much molasses for her ponies.”

“Then why don’t you supply the cotton,” Bolt suggested.

“What the hay are you two talking about,” Spitfire growled.

“Grapes, cotton, and molasses,” Bolt said, letting his southern cadence dominate his voice along with a smirk. “You see …” Bolt flinched as a column of water spurted off the bow of the Phoenix, spraying the officers with water.

“Shit! Nice plan, major,” Spitfire snarked. She retrieved her telescope and trained it on the distant pirate ship. Dawn followed suit and saw a small flash and puff of smoke. Moments later another shell splashed down, this time near the port side of the Berrichonhead. Both ships lurched forward in the water as they fired up their engines. Black smoke poured out against the white backdrop of full sails.

The deck of the Phoenix came to life, ponies dashing to man their stations. Colonel Spitfire grabbed a passing naval officer. “How long until we get in range,” she asked the wide-eyed pony.

“Ten minutes before we can run the eight-inch guns out, ma’am.”

“Shit!” Spitfire acknowledged. She let out another stream of four-letter words as the Berrichonhead took a shell above her waterline. The vessel began to list in the water. “We need to get to land now!” Major Bolt nodded in agreement but frowned.

“Lieutenant, run to communications and await the order. In the meantime, Spitfire, I think we should set a course for our landing point.”

“I’ll get my ponies in the air to look for a suitable place. Bolt, go inform the captain to change course. And lieutenant, we need that order,” Spitfire barked over the cacophony of shouting ponies and splashing shells.

“Yes, sir. Yes, ma’am,” Dawn roared back. She cantered below decks, navigating through the now crowded corridors to find her way to the communications room. The floors rocked and shuttered as the gunner ponies started firing their pieces to warm the barrels before the frigate could get in range. Another thud rattled through Dawn as she collided with Big Mac in the doorway.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Big Mac apologized while helping the lieutenant up from the floor. “What’s goin’ on out there?”

“Pirates,” Dawn said, shaking away the stars that hung over her head. She turned her eyes about the room and saw Ensign Xallec’t talking with two sailor ponies. His features were drawn and pale and his face sweaty as he referenced an open book on his desk. He then pulled out a box of signal flags from the corner locker and gave it to the sailors. The two brushed past Dawn out the door and towards the deck.

“You’ll have to excuse those two. What can I do for you?” Xallec’t asked, the faint outline of a courteous smile materializing on his lips.

“Any messages come in from headquarters? We need to know if we have permission to make landfall.” Dawn stated.

“I’m afraid the answer is no, but I sent a request several minutes ago.” The tele-fire machine glowed green as the zebra spoke. His eyes widened as he turned towards the machine’s compartment. “Or perhaps there is no need to fear, as our message is indeed here.” Xallec’t opened the compartment and pulled out a scroll to give to Dawn. She noted the “confidential” stamp as well as a crude yet intricate wax seal before she took the scroll in her mouth.

“That letter’s straight from the princess,” Big Mac commented in amazement. Dawn shot him a befuddled glance. “Recognize the seal from the letters Twilight used to get,” he explained. Dawn muttered a muffled order followed by a tilt of her head to motion for the red sergeant to follow her.

The two ran back through the corridors and outside. The island was much closer now with a gap in the landmass revealing the cove that the ships were sailing towards. The pirate ship moved along the edge of the island, a near constant series of flashes erupting along the black hull. The Phoenix had positioned between the pirates and the damaged Berrichonhead limping on the frigate’s starboard side. The frigate’s crew were answering the pirate’s fire with equal intensity, causing white plumes of water to splash around the enemy ship. The roar of cannons and smell of sulfur was overwhelming.

Dawn froze on deck, her eyes darting across the clusters of ponies to try and find Major Bolt. Big Mac was much calmer and pointed out the major next to Colonel Spitfire at the bow of the ship. The two cantered to the officers. Bolt raised an eyebrow at the muffled words Dawn tried to say. Big Mac jumped in to translate, “Message from Princess Celestia, sir.”

Spitfire yanked the scroll from Dawn’s mouth and tore open the seal. Bolt opened his mouth to protest then closed it again in a perplexed expression. Spitfire’s eyes moved rapidly as she scanned the letter then rolled it up and tossed it to Bolt, who flipped the letter over to examine the broken wax. “We’ve got our permission to land. What’s the matter, major, haven’t you ever seen a letter from the princess before?” Spitfire’s voice had an extra layer of edge in it.

“Actually, I have,” Bolt replied. He brought his hoof up to scratch through his mane.

“We don’t have time for this,” Spitfire was annoyed.

“Right,” said Bolt, rolling the scroll and placing it in his saddlebag. “Are your pegasi ready for the transfer of staff?”

“Always. Are your ponies ready?”

“Just about,” Bolt said. He looked at Dawn. “Lieutenant, myself and the rest of the battalion staff will be directing the landing from the Berrichonhead. There is no time to transfer C Company, so that leaves Captain Bounce in charge of the company’s landing. When she wakes up can you … never mind, there she is.” The cherry red unicorn stumbled across the deck towards them. Dawn prayed to Celestia that her captain’s stumbling was a result of the frigate’s maneuvers. Her stomach tightened.

A shell exploded on the port side, sending sharp chunks of wood and gnarled metal through the air. Dawn flinched. She watched the blast carry Bounce upward then fling her body onto the deck. When the smoke cleared Dawn could see her captain attempt to get up, but her foreleg was no longer attached as it should be. She wanted to vomit.

“Well, congratulations Lieutenant Dawn, you’re in command now,” Bolt said. The words were too much. Dawn emptied what little was in her stomach on the deck. Bolt chuckled as he patted her on the back.

“The Phoenix will stay back to provide cover while the Berrichonhead makes for land,” Bolt briefed. Dawn forced herself to regain composure. Her body was tense. “Our goal is to position the light artillery on that cliff face and force the pirates back into open waters. Once that battery is firing, the Phoenix will make a run for the cove and get your ponies on land. We will regroup after that.”

“Yes, sir,” Dawn acknowledged the plan, but her mind raced to put together the pieces she had to do for her part of it. Dawn felt a resurgence of bile in her throat. She was not ready for this burden of responsibility; she should not even be an officer, let alone a company commander for two hundred ponies, and certainly not now. She did not trust herself.

“Lieutenant Dawn, you okay?” Big Mac asked. Dawn nodded, bringing herself back to reality. The red stallion’s eyes were fixed on her with a focused intensity that matched his next words, “what are your orders, ma’am?”

Big Mac trusts you, so why can’t you? Dawn dismissed the little pony in her head. Not now. “Go to the lower decks and inform the sergeants that I want the company to stand to. We need to be ready to move quickly when the time comes. I will round up the other officers and brief them.”

Big Mac saluted then trotted off. Dawn followed shortly thereafter. She passed by the mess that was once her company commander. Several medical ponies were tending to the red unicorn; she had lost consciousness. Dawn tried not to look lest she feel another bout of vomiting come on. She sighed instead. Cherry Bounce might not have been the best officer, but the bubbly mare did not deserve for her career to end so soon or so violently. No pony did.

Dawn found the platoon commanders lounging around a table in the tiny mess hall at the stern of the frigate.

“What’s going on?” Star asked.

“Where’s Captain Bounce?” Belle said, ears flattening as she stood up from her chair.

“Everypony, listen up,” Dawn commanded. “Captain Bounce has been injured, so I’m in charge now. The main force is going to land on the island and take up positions to force the pirates away. Our ship is providing cover until that happens. I need each of you to move with haste, maintain control of your platoons, and for the love of Celestia, listen to my orders.” Dawn directed her last statement towards Belle. The unicorn’s ears nearly disappeared against her neck.

“Shall we go on deck to get appraised of the situation?” Star asked innocently.

“No!” Dawn nearly jumped over the table. “No, the deck is too hot right now. We can’t lose any more officers. Each of you, go to the lower decks and wait with your platoons until the order is given.” The ponies shuffled down the stairs while Dawn ran back to the upper deck. She was sweating.

The island loomed ahead. Atop one of the cliffs that surrounded the cove Dawn could see the crumbling ruins of an old castle that had once guarded the entrance. The Berrichonhead was steaming ahead, trying to complete its run to safety under the protective shadow of the castle. The pirates’ ship was arcing around the point of the castled cliff, the frequency of water plumes erupting around the Berrichonhead indicating that the pirates had caught on to the plan and chosen that ship as their primary target. The Phoenix plowed through the waves at full speed, attempting to get between the Berrichonhead and the pirates’ line of fire. The frigate’s own guns barked rapidly, answering each shot the pirates threw at the Equestrians. A few columns of smoke rose from the pirates’ ship to show that the Phoenix had scored a few hits, but none of them decisive. The duel continued.

The gun teams attached to the dragoons took off from the Berrichonhead, the pegasi towing their guns against an increasingly cloudy sky while the first boats of khaki ponies dropped into the water and rowed towards the beach. Dawn rubbed water splashed by a near miss off her telescope’s lens. She watched with familiarity as the guns were unlimbered on the heights, each pony moving with practiced precision. The officers, referring to little notebooks held in their wings, adjusted the gun’s angles. Groups of ponies fetched shells from the nearby caissons, tossing them to others who shoved them into the weapon’s breach then stood back.

Dawn wished for a brief moment that she was a pegasus. Being in a wing artillery battery sounded a lot cooler than her start in the regular field artillery. Or as the sole pony in charge of leading two hundred other ponies. Dawn felt sick again.

The battery opened fire, the flashes from the guns reflecting against the darkening sky. The guns took several shots to home in on the range but were soon hitting very close to the pirate ship, forcing it to sail farther out. The ship turned its starboard to allow its guns to meet the threat.

The battalion’s first companies made landfall, the small boats scraping onto the sand. Little figures in khaki jumped out, led by the blue and white silks of the colors as they clambered up the side of the heights towards the castle.

Dawn was knocked off her hooves as the Phoenix pulled a hard turn to port to present its full broadside to rake the exposed stern of the pirates. A wave crashed over the frigate’s bow, soaking Dawn as she scraped herself off the deck. The sea was becoming choppier. Fierce whitecaps battered the hulls of the dueling ships and doused the decks in swirling, foaming brine.

A shell from the wing battery scored a direct hit on the pirates, toppling the main mast. Dawn tried to see the full extent of damage, but the heavens opened up in torrents of rain. The sweeping grey sheets obscured everything except the deck in front of her. Ponies scurried around her, clambering up ropes to furl the sails before the strong winds caught them and sheared the masts down with them. A violent gust threw Dawn down on the deck again. She struggled to get up, mostly to avoid a blow from the hooves that trampled around her, but the ship was being tossed too violently by the storm.

Dawn gave up and let the storm pelt her as she lay, the cold drops stinging against her face. A bolt of lightning flashed on the horizon, illuminating the outline of land against the sudden darkness of the maelstrom. Dawn felt the frigate turn beneath her towards the island. She counted the minutes with her watch. It felt like an eternity.

Bits of land began to emerge through the murk before the frigate’s bow. Then a sharp rock struck up through the waves. The frigate pulled hard away from the danger. Dawn slid across the deck. The maneuver was barely enough, the crack of splintering wood and scraping metal sounding above the pounding of rain and thunder. Then the frigate jolted to a sudden halt. Dawn rolled towards the stern as the bow was lifted skyward by a sand bar along the beach. The Phoenix had made landfall.

Chapter 11

The storm had passed but a persistent drizzle remained as Dawn came to and peeled her face off the slick deck. The change in weather made her feel like she had been out for a long time, but the storm clouds were still close and the thunder loud, suggesting that only a few minutes had passed. A glance at her watch concurred with the observation.

A familiar headache rushed back into her forehead as she steadied her legs to adjust to the precarious angle of the beached frigate. The rain had subsided to a soft enough pattering that Dawn could make out the voices of naval officers shouting across the deck. Most of the commands were punctuated by colorful expressions involving four-letter words. Dawn looked around to regain her bearing. She nearly lost her balance again as more blood rushed to her heavy head. Two pairs of strong hooves steadied her.

“Leave it to the fucking navy to think landing troops actually means putting the whole damn ship on land,” Applesnack grumbled.

“You alright, ma’am?” Big Mac’s question was voiced just as softly as his grip on Dawn. He nodded to Applesnack to let go of the lieutenant as he also released his grip.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Dawn groaned. The throbbing in her head and knots in her stomach suggested otherwise. She figured there were also several bruises she would discover the next time she took her uniform off. “Anypony from the company hurt?” Dawn got straight down to business.

“Two ponies sprained their ankles an’ one has a concussion from the crash, but I reckon we got pretty lucky,” Big Mac reported.

“So we did,” Dawn said. She doubted that wrecking one of the few frigates in the Equestrian Navy was lucky by any stretch. But it was not her problem. Her job now was to get her troops on land and reunited with the main expedition, so she looked about the deck to find a naval officer to start establishing a plan. The captain of the frigate was easy to spot; the stress wrinkles around his eyes were the deepest of anypony.

“Ah, you must be in charge of the army ponies,” Captain Mesa said as Dawn walked up. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. I know it looks bad, but ain’t nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“Fortunately, only a few of my ponies had minor injuries.” Dawn said. “Now how exactly are you going to fix this?” Dawn was curious and raised an eyebrow to express as such.

“Simple really. We’ll patch the hole then let the tides refloat us tonight. Should be back in action by tomorrow. Nothing’ll stop the Navy!”

“I see,” Dawn said, brushing past the captain’s pride in his branch. The fact that the Phoenix was not entirely out of commission left her with options to decide on. She could stay with the frigate until repairs were made then sail to the original landing point or choose to land now and march overland. With the former she ran the risk of delaying her company’s arrival and the possibility of encountering the pirates again. But the latter carried the risks of an unknown country, even though being on firm ground was more her element.

Dawn ran the two scenarios in her imagination, veering in the direction of one option before switching to consider the other, then doubling back yet again. Finally, Dawn shook the thoughts out of her head and let her mind jump off the edge in a sudden impulse. She decided to lead her company into the risks they would actually be able to fight against. Besides, it would be keeping in line with the intent of her last orders.

“I would like to commence with the landing of my troops,” Dawn stated. She hoped she was making the right decision.

“You sure you don’t want to stay onboard until we can ferry you a little closer?” Dawn feigned a steely scowl. “Ok, we’ll throw the ladders down for you. I’ll have Ensign Xallec’t tele-fire the Berrichonhead to inform the main expedition. You’re making a bold move, but I wish you luck, lieutenant.”

“Thank you, captain.” Dawn shifted to address the apple-colored stallions. “Big Mac, Applesnack, go help out with the ladders. We will travel light, so no need to worry about the crates, Big Mac. I don’t think we have any wagons, anyways.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the ponies said in unison. Dawn heard Applesnack start a conversation with Big Mac as she walked towards the lower decks.

“So, how many sisters do you have …” Dawn rolled her eyes then stepped inside the ship to brief the others on the plan.

“We’re doing what?” Cornet Belle’s reaction was exactly as Dawn expected. Cornets Star, Sprint, and Polish were already moving their platoons towards the ladders and lining up the khaki-clad ponies on the beach. Dawn had to hunt for Cornet Belle when she noticed that none of the ponies from her platoon were mingling with the others on deck.

“I’m doing exactly as our orders say, cornet,” Dawn said. “And you should do exactly as my orders say, which is to get your platoon onto that beach. Now.”

“This is something we should have discussed, lieutenant, between all the officers,” Belle said. Her tone was laconic yet calm.

“I made my decision, cornet, based on the welfare of this company and my judgment of our current situation.”

“So what, you become Bolt’s pet and get put in charge of a company and suddenly your judgment is perfect? Need I remind you that the Crystal Empire fiasco was less than a week ago. Or the loss of the colors, for that matter!”

The remark hurt, and Dawn knew there was truth in what the unicorn said, but she could not accept defeat and thus undermine the perception of a sound leader that she needed to believe in to lead her company. Giving in to Belle would shatter the reality of that perception, and Dawn was not ready to face that.

“I did not ask to be put in this position,” Dawn said truthfully. “But I know what I’m doing.” You’re lying, Dawn’s little pony scolded her.

“Really?” Belle saw through the lieutenant. “Do you know where we are going once we get on land? Or what kind of threats we might encounter? If it were me, I would make a decision based on what I know, and I know exactly what we can expect by staying on this frigate. I know what I’m doing.” Belle made her voice mimic Dawn’s.

“I’ve made my decision.” Dawn’s face burned. “And you can accept it or get the fuck out of my company!” Dawn was certain that even the ponies on the beach had heard her yell. She did not care. The startled look on Belle’s face cooled the rage that reddened Dawn, but the unicorn had one last defense.

“So be it. But you’ll get no help from me,” Belle said quietly at first. Then, with more resolve, “whatever happens, it’ll be your fault.” The unicorn stormed outside to direct her platoon.

A single tear rolled down Dawn’s cheek. Am I making the right choice?

Dawn leaned against the frigate’s railing, preparing herself for the descend to the beach below where her company was waiting in formation. From her vantage point, the four platoons arranged in homogenous blocks of khaki looked formidable, and with over 200 rifles, were justified in the sense of power they projected. Power which Dawn felt squarely weigh down on her as she glided down the rope to sink her hooves into the wet sand.

Puffing her chest and elevating her chin, Lieutenant Dawn strutted through the ranks in a cursory inspection. A sigh of yearning escaped from her as she walked; she felt each breath struggle to inflate her lungs as if her saber belt was slowly constricting tighter and tighter against her chest. Whether it was the newness of the khaki uniforms in place of the familiar red tunics or the full realization of her responsibilities, Dawn was not sure except that she sorely felt the strain of the change.

The power her company possessed was something Dawn knew, and indeed, trusted she could handle. She knew her service manuals, she had led other formations in combat, and even her brief stint in the artillery had given her the training to handle a gun team with a similar capacity for projecting power on the battlefield.

The difference, though, that bothered the lieutenant became more evident as she moved between the ranks. The illusion of uniformity the khaki tunics created at a distance was shattered as removing that distance highlighted the brightly colored coats and manes of individual ponies. Over 200 shades of reds, blues, yellows, greens, purples, oranges, and browns painted a mosaic that popped against the solid white sand. Over 200 pairs of equally colorful eyes peered from beneath the brims of their helmets, all focused on the blue earth pony in whom they now had to trust to lead them. All except one pair.

Dawn finished her inspection and marked her place six paces in front of her company. She knew such formality was unnecessary in the field, but somehow, she felt the ritual would add legitimacy to her command. Private Ditty shadowed the lieutenant one pace to the left and rear, her bugle floating at her side. Dawn took a deep breath.

“Company, at my command, atten-SHUN!” The mass of khaki became rigid as Dawn’s syllable echoed across the otherwise silent beach. “In marching, skirmishers, OUT!” The chosen ponies dashed out of the formation to take their protective positions around the main company while Ditty played the steady triplet motif on her bugle. Applesnack and Crag took their places close to Dawn. Crag gave a wink of encouragement to the lieutenant, but she was too focused to notice.

“At the walk, column of platoons, by the right, forward…” - the platoon leaders complied with “stand fast” except for Cornet Belle on the right who echoed the lieutenant’s preparatory command - “… MARCH!”

Dawn watched 1st and 2nd platoon file past her into the undergrowth of the forest that lined the beach before picking up her own walk to take her place in the middle of the formation. The column snaked through groupings of lush bushes and trees to reach an old, washed-out road that Dawn had seen barely marked on her map and which she hoped would be the quickest route around the heights that protected the cove where the main expedition force was.

Once the whole company had stepped out of the undergrowth and onto the road, Dawn called, “At the trot, MARCH!” The column of khaki surged forward. Between the two-beat clopping of hooves on the dirt road, Dawn noted that the forest around her seemed quiet save for the rhythmic straining of leather and metal equipment that her own ponies generated. No birds sang and the rustling of bush that might betray a scurrying creature instead belonged to the skirmishers who wacked their way through the undergrowth. The only sound she could register that originated from the dark depths of the forest was the solitary cawing of a crow. Her company, it seemed, was the only thing that habited this part of the largely uninhabited island.

Crag flew up to the lieutenant several miles into the march, his eyes wrinkled above a firm mouth. “Ma’am, I think we’re not alone out here,” he reported.

“What do you mean?” The contradiction between the pegasus’s conclusion and her own observation quickened the pace of Dawn’s heartbeat.

“We’ve been trailed for the last two miles. Not sure by who, or what. I’ve only caught a few glimpses of it before it merged back into the shadows.”

“Could just be a native creature. I doubt anypony else is out in this part of the island. According to the map, the nearest, and only, active settlement is fifteen miles south of here.”

“What about pirates, ma’am,” Big Mac joined in the discussion. Dawn frowned.

“I did notice stripes on it,” Crag said, “but it was so quick a glance that I can’t be sure.”

“The forest gives way to plains a mile ahead,” Dawn said. “We’ll see if it follows us out in the open.” Dawn paused to think. “Crag, inform the skirmishers to form a screen around the rear of the column. I’ll recall you once the company is clear of the forest.” The pegasus dashed off to relay the order.

Dawn turned to Ditty to instruct the unicorn to bring her bugle up to her lips. “Company, at the canter, MARCH!” Ditty only managed to blow three notes of the call before the forest erupted in a volley of rifle fire. Everypony threw themselves to the ground.

Wiping dirt from her eyes, Dawn crawled around to regain awareness of the situation. The flashes from rifle muzzles popped in the shadows of the undergrowth on either side of the column. Dawn could not hear any wails of pain from her own ponies, which told her that either no pony had been hit in the initial volley of the ambush or they were already dead. The bullets whizzed overhead and shredded leaves which fell down around her. Whoever the attackers were, they were inexperienced and firing high. A lesson we’ve already learned, Dawn thought.

“Sprint, Polish,” Dawn yelled over the noise, “get your platoons on-line and start returning fire!” The ponies bounded up to take cover on the sides of the road, bringing rifles out as they landed in the bushes.

“2nd platoon, five rounds independent, FIRE!” Polish ordered. Dawn could not hear Sprint’s similar command for 3rd platoon as 2nd platoon’s rifles roared to life.

“Belle, get 1st platoon out of here and onto the plain! Star, you’re the reserve!” Dawn looked back into the forest after giving her orders. The enemy had moved closer to where she could just make out their blue tunics and striped faces that appeared darkly beneath brass helmets that caught what little sunlight filtered through the leaves. The uniformity of the zebras told Dawn one thing: these were not pirates; they were too organized.

Another crackle of musketry sounded from the front of the column. The zebras had been smart enough to cut off the company’s escape route. Rifle fire from the rear completed the encirclement. Dawn’s heart dropped out of her chest. She muttered a stream of curses, then realized there was only one course of action left for her company.

“Company, cease fire!” The forest fell silent with Ditty’s last bugle note ringing through the sudden stillness. Dawn pulled herself up from the dirt and adjusted her helmet. She pulled out her saber and issued her final command, “Stand at ease.” The lieutenant took one long look at the defeated expressions that were firmly planted on her ponies and sighed before looking for the commander of the victorious zebras. She had been wrong and led her ponies astray. But she was not going to continue to make them suffer for her mistakes. It was time for her to give up.

“Celestia fuck my ass with her horn of fire!” Major Bolt winced as more colorful profanities came from Colonel Spitfire. He was impressed by the fiery mare’s collection even though he had heard most of them before. The mood which motivated the language, though, was far grimmer and worried the major.

“We still have a mission to complete, ma’am. And besides, we don’t know if our losses are actually losses,” Bolt said, hoping to calm the expedition commander into a manageable state.

“It’s been two hours, major, and still no communications from the Phoenix,” Spitfire said. “Dammit, I should have launched the weather flight sooner. Or had the Phoenix enter the cove with the Berrichonhead. The princesses will have my ass when they find out we lost a frigate to some stupid storm.”

“We don’t know that, colonel. It’s possible the crew of the Phoenix was able to find another safe harbor to ride out the storm. They are some of the best in the Navy; you wouldn’t have chosen them otherwise.”

“Don’t flatter me at a time like this, major. How in Tartarus are you not more worried? You’re missing a quarter of your battalion for Luna’s sake,” Spitfire spat.

“Lieutenant Dawn is more than capable of leading her company. But that’s not what worries me most,” Bolt said, a frown wrinkling his muzzle.

“Are you still on about that conspiracy horseshit?” Bolt pulled the scroll from the princess out of his saddlebag and held it for Spitfire to see.

“I have my reasons to believe we’re not the only ponies pulling the strings here. Look closer at this scroll and pay particular attention to the wax seal.” Spitfire handled the paper, angling it to examine around the crude wax impression.

“So, what. Looks like the royal seal to me.”

“Exactly, but it’s not perfect. The edges are too rough, and these little impressions here make me think that this is a forgery. Princess Celestia would never suffice for anything less than perfect.”

“So, maybe she was rushed. Or she had one of her assistants prepare the scroll. Heck, I’ve met her more times than you, so I think I know a thing or two about her.”

“True, but I am very familiar with the brass stamps that the princesses use. Because my family made them. Those deviations I pointed out are consistent with somepony making a casting to copy it. My only question is why.”

“You think our order to land wasn’t authentic?” Bolt nodded as Spitfire let loose another string of profanities. “It still doesn’t make sense. That order came through the tele-fire on the Phoenix, which means it had to come straight from the hub in Canterlot. If what you’re suggesting is true, that pony pulling the strings has to be working on the inside.”

“I don’t know how, or who, or why.” Bolt shivered. “But none of it adds up. The conflict with the Boerperds, how the pirates managed to catch our landing, or this letter. The only reason I can think of is that somepony wants to …” Bolt trailed off as a Wonderbolt sergeant landed next to the officers. She lifted her goggles and brought her wing up in a salute.

“Ma’am, sir, we’ve located the Phoenix. Went aground a few miles south of here, but the captain told us they intend to get the ship afloat and regroup with us by tomorrow morning.”

Spitfire allowed herself to smile at the news. “Great, thank you, sergeant. Did they say anything about why they didn’t send us a message?”

“They said they did send a message, ma’am. Tele-fire onboard the Berrichonhead should have it.”

“No such message was received. Probably got lost by some bumbling idiot in the hub. You’re dismissed, sergeant.”

Bolt stopped the pegasus before she could fly off. “Wait, any news on the company of infantry the Phoenix had onboard?” he inquired.

“Captain said they disembarked and were going to march overland. Should be here by nightfall.”

A faint crackling of musketry from the south accompanied the sergeant’s report. Bolt and Spitfire both perked their ears towards the noise. It stopped almost immediately.

“Now you look worried, major. What do you think that was?” Spitfire said.

“I don’t know. I just hope it wasn’t my missing company,” Bolt replied. “But we should get on with the mission. If somepony is indeed trying to start something, then time is of the essence.” He said a silent prayer. Events were unfolding quicker than Major Bolt could keep up with. Especially with molasses.

“Lieutenant Dawn Glean, 2nd battalion, North Equus Regiment of Hoof,” Dawn said to the zebra as she approached. She held out her saber towards the tall, handsomely striped officer.

“Captain Praeclarus, Centurion, 4th Cohort of the XX Legion. What brings you ponies unexpectedly to my region?” he replied with a heavy accent. He shoved the saber back to the pony lieutenant and offered a warm grin.

“We are a part of an Equestrian expedition to recover hostages held by pirates in this area.”

“I am aware of no hostages, but of pirates, yes. How am I to know that you are not a part of their mess?” Praeclarus raised an eyebrow. “I thought the uniform of Equestria was red. You looked like pirates which my orders are to make dead.”

Dawn quickly realized the confusion. “We are in the process of changing uniforms. Khaki is the new red. Here, see, we still wear the Royal Seal on our helmet flashes,” Dawn explained as she touched her hoof to the gold-embroidered princesses on the blue flash on her helmet band.

“It seems I’ve made a mistake, my apologies, lieutenant. But when you’re ponies started running my legionnaires could not wait another minute. This posting is remote and my soldiers raw, but then again, you should not be here at all.”

“We’ve been granted military access, but I am guessing you were not informed of that,” Dawn offered in defense. Praeclarus shrugged.

“What you say may be true, but still brings a frown. Unfortunately, I cannot spare any legionnaires to escort you to town. But I cannot let you wander …”

“You said you thought we were pirates,” Dawn interrupted. “Aside from the uniforms what led you to think so, and to fire first before fully investigating?”

“Reports of a pirate camp to the northeast of here. Their presence on these islands is a constant source of fear.” Dawn’s ears perked at the intelligence.

“Then perhaps I have a solution to our impasse here. It is in both our interests to eradicate piracy, and anything we find in that camp can be useful towards that objective. We can work together. And you can keep us in your sight,” Dawn suggested with the most trusting smile she could feign. Praeclarus hesitated until Dawn, remembering Bolt’s philosophy, added an extra fluttering of her eyelashes. She preferred practical words over charm, but the gesture did the trick as the zebra blushed.

“Very well, since you are so keen. We march in fifteen,” Captain Praeclarus said. He walked back towards a grouping of legionnaires while casting a shy glance back towards the pony lieutenant. Dawn gave a sheepish grin back, then rolled her eyes before fixing them on her company.

“Cornets, report!”

“3rd platoon, all present and accounted for,” Cornet Sprint replied. Polish stated the same from the opposite side of the road.

“4th platoon, all present and accounted for,” Star said as she walked beside Dawn. “We have two ponies with minor injuries; Privates Dempsey and Breeze, both in walking condition.” Dawn noted the two ponies down in her notebook then spotted them sitting along the roadbed. Dempsey was holding a pad of wet reddening cloth to his foreleg while Breeze sat still as Ditty pulled a bandage tight around her stifle.

“1st platoon, report?” Dawn said, placing her pencil back in her mouth to record the response. After a moment of silence Dawn spat the pencil out. “Cornet Belle!” she yelled.

“Um, all present and accounted for, ma’am … actually, um, correction please,” Belle stammered.

“Which is it cornet?” Dawn flattened her ears and stomped over to Belle. “Well?” Her voice was sharp.

“Has anypony seen Private Acorn or Corporal Rain Puddle?” Belle asked her platoon. Her eyes, pointed and wrinkled, darted between the faces amid the khaki uniforms, trying to pick out her missing soldiers.

“They were on the left, ma’am,” a pony shouted. Both officers trotted towards what had been the platoon’s left flank during its brief breakout attempt. Three soldiers were hunched over the bodies of the missing ponies. Their faces said everything. Dawn’s heart sank, but she replaced the feeling with another.

“Want to amend your report, Cornet Belle?”

“Amend it yourself, lieutenant,” Belle said, her voice dry. “Bury them,” she ordered the three ponies around the bodies then walked away.

“Stay where you are,” Dawn countermanded. She ran to catch up to Belle and stopped the unicorn with a firm hoof on her withers. “Cornet Belle, you know full well we don’t have time for a burial. We’ll carry them with us.”

“But, Lieutenant Dawn, think of the morale…”

“Dammit, Belle! We’ve got a mission to do,” Dawn snapped. “And I expect a prompt report from you next time. Those ponies are your responsibility and a good officer always knows the status of her command. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Belle cast her eyes downward, her head visibly shaking. She composed herself to look Dawn in the eyes. “Except for one thing: those ponies are your responsibility, ma’am.” Belle spat the honorific then walked away once more. Dawn stood still long enough for Star to come stand next to her.

“Lieutenant Dawn, can I say something freely,” Star asked gently.

“What!” Star recoiled, causing Dawn to wince at her own tone. “Sorry, yes what is it?”

“Well, it’s just that I think you’re being too hard on Cornet Belle, ma’am.”

“We have our differences, Star, and that’s that. What matters now is that we complete our mission, and I will not have her incompetence interfere with that.”

“She’s probably a bit shaken up is what I am trying to say, ma’am. She just lost two of her own ponies after all.” Dawn felt the sinking in her heart force its way past her attempt to repress it.

“You told me that a good officer always puts their ponies first. Is that not true?” Star said.

“Yes, it is.” Dawn bit her lip.

“Then maybe you’ve forgotten that, ma’am, or you were lying when you told me.” The shift in Star’s tone stung Dawn. She felt a tear well up in her eye. “We can’t carry our dead with us; the effect on morale would be too much. And the same goes for when the enlisted see officers arguing.”

“No, you’re right,” Dawn said. “I’ll get a burial party organized. Go check on your wounded and get your platoon ready to march.” Dawn looked back to her notepad at the list of ponies she had written down. Ponies who had been made to pay for her decisions. She prayed the list would not get any longer and promised herself as such. But she knew that was a lie.

Chapter 12

Evening approached as the Equestrian and Zebra column neared the reported location of the pirate camp. The march there had been an uneventful trek through five miles of stifling grassland and humid forest. Save for the ambient noise of equipment and the idle chatting of the zebras in their native tongue, nopony said a word but rather cast their heads downward for the duration of the march. Despite what their officers said, they knew the truth – that they were still captives.

“Over that hill is our objective. We will wait here to get a better perspective,” Captain Praeclarus said. He held up a hoof to halt his legionnaires.

Dawn nodded to Ditty to sound the bugle call then thought better of the idea once she saw that her company had already halted from the zebra officer’s gesture.

“Launching our attack tomorrow is what is wise. We will rest tonight until sunrise,” he briefed Dawn.

“Why not go in tonight? I’ve led nighttime operations before and we have plenty of resources at our disposal. Waiting out here will just increase our chance of being found out,” Dawn said.

“I want to monitor the area for intel. A second unit will reinforce us tomorrow as well,” he said. His eye twitched and voice wavered, giving Dawn the hints she needed to know that the zebra was lying. The reinforcements were for Dawn’s company to be taken into tighter custody.

“Intel, eh? Let’s take a look then,” Dawn said, already reaching for her telescope as she scampered up the hill. Praeclarus followed a moment later.

Through the lens, Dawn saw the tight cluster of rugged wooden buildings built at the edge of a young, recuperating forest. A small lake, its surface rippling with the last bits of daylight, edged the west side of the buildings while a disused railbed on the east side cut through a mature growth of forest on its way south. A few rusted railcars with rotting tree trunks on their beds lay discarded along the northern side of the railyard, showing that at one time this town had been lively and productive. But looking closely amid the lengthening shadows, Dawn saw no signs of such activity now. The town was perfectly abandoned.

“How old is this report of yours, captain?” Dawn asked, collapsing her telescope.

“Several hours. We were dispatched right before that engagement of ours.”

“This so-called camp looks completely empty, captain. Either the pirates are gone and now is the time to act, or your report was false.”

“I stand by my decision, and I will follow the orders of my mission,” Praeclarus turned to look into Dawn’s eyes. “Besides, everyone, even you Dawn, looks tired. How about we all give in to that which is desired …”

Dawn felt a rush of blood burn in her cheeks. Her breathing became ragged as she remembered her gesture towards the zebra in the forest. She turned her head away to fidget with her telescope, eventually managing to open her saddlebag after fumbling with the clasp between her teeth. She slipped the telescope in and caught the glint of light from the bottle of scotch she had left in there. It gave her an idea.

“Of course, Praeclarus. Just give me a bit to, uh, attend to my command.”

“Yes, naturally. I will see you shortly,” he said before winking as he climbed down the hill. Dawn forced a wink and a smile in return. Her stomach protested at what she was about to do, but feelings of warmth elsewhere yearned for it. Grapes, cotton, and molasses. Dawn sighed. She walked down the hill to her company.

Everypony cast their gaze away from the lieutenant as she walked through. She drooped her head lower towards the ground with each pony that copied the gesture. All except Applesnack, who sat with his back to a tree, his eyes staring coldly at Dawn while he bit down on an oatcake smeared with tinned beets.

“Is there a problem, Private Applesnack,” Dawn asked.

He took another bite while keeping his eyes locked. “Yes.”

"Do you want to talk about it?” Dawn sighed, taking a seat next to the stallion.

“Look, lieutenant, you know as well as I do that this whole situation is a load of dragon shit. I’m a soldier, ma’am – I’m trained to fight, not sit around on my ass as some prisoner because somepony is too afraid to lead.”

“Excuse me, private, I’m doing what I think is best for my…” Dawn riposted.

“Dragon shit, ma’am. If this is your company, then why are you giving it up?”

“That ain’t no way t’ address an officer, Applesnack,” Big Mac reprimanded as he walked up to defuse the conversation. Ditty and Crag followed behind the red sergeant.

“No, it’s alright, sergeant. I want to see what he has to say,” Dawn said, cooling herself down. “Do you have any suggestions, Applesnack?”

“Well, we need to get away from these zebras so we can actually do our mission, ma’am. Only problem is I don’t know how.” Applesnack softened his eyes and threw his hooves, now devoid of food, into the ground. “It’s not like we can talk our way out of this.”

“Actually, I`ve talking with the zebra captain and I think I can keep him distracted for the night,” Dawn said. She ignored Ditty’s giggle, which was quickly stifled by a firm hoof from Crag.

“I saw a small ravine on the east side of this hollow that could hide a few ponies from the main camp. Can’t fit the whole company through, but we can trickle three or four through at a time,” Crag stated.

“What about the picquets?” Big Mac asked. His comment caused the group to flatten their ears slightly.

“We need to take them out somehow,” Applesnack said. He patted his bayonet.

“We’re not trying to start a war, Applesnack…” Crag said.

“What about an anesthetic potion,” Ditty chimed in. “The musicians have enough in our medical supplies to knockout a hundred grown ponies for 24 hours.”

“I don’t think we need that much, Ditty,” Crag said. “But if we dilute it and somehow get it into the hands of the picquets we can sneak away while they’re out.”

“Applesnack…” Big Mac smiled towards the green stallion. Crag and Ditty recognized what Big Mac was suggesting and added their eyes to stare at Applesnack.

“What?” he said, then realized. “Fine, but I was saving my apples for some fritters tonight; I better get some. And I’m not doing all the cooking by myself.”

“It’s a plan. Let’s get to work then,” Dawn said. “Big Mac, spread the word quietly to the officers and NCOs. Crag, scout out that ravine again and plan our path through. Ditty, Applesnack, start making those fritters for the zebras. We will begin executing our plan two hours after sunset.”

Everypony nodded then saluted before walking off to complete the orders. Dawn saw Praeclarus leaning against a tree and walked over to him.

“Hey,” she said. She silently cursed the explosive beating in her chest. Her only comfort was that Praeclarus seemed to share her nervousness.

“Greetings Dawn my dear. We’ll take a seat over here,” he said. Dawn reached for her bottle as the zebra awkwardly put his hoof around her withers.

“My ponies are making some snacks for your legionnaires,” Dawn said. Praeclarus smiled and said something in his native tongue to a zebra sergeant before leading Dawn towards a patch of rocks and bush.

“And I got us this, I think you’ll enjoy it,” Dawn said, reaching her hoof in front of her to showcase the bottle. She raised her tail and tossed it playfully over Praeclarus, spurring another wave of pleasurable warmth.

Dear Celestia, what am I doing! Dawn’s conscience scolded her. She cast a furtive glance behind her. She gasped.

Watching the pair walk away was the figure of Star, her cream fur shining warmly in the setting sun. But her expression was cold and blank, her eyes seeming to pierce deep into Dawn’s conscience. They were eyes that, reflecting the scarce remnants of evening light, looked upon her as if she was a complete stranger. Dawn felt her heart sink. She had to look away and caught her reflection in the bottle instead. But even those eyes looked at her with the same cold, reproachful, questioning stare that said so clearly – who are you?

The meeting with Praeclarus cost Dawn half of her bottle of scotch, but she had achieved her objective before it cost her anything else, much to the disappointment of certain parts of her. Regardless, if the precious liquid did what it was supposed to, the zebra officer would be incapacitated well into the night with only a headache to remember the encounter by.

Dawn was exhausted. She slipped away from Praeclarus and checked with Big Mac to oversee the plan, then, satisfied with the progress, leaned up against a tree next to where Applesnack and Ditty were making the last of the anesthetic-laced fritters. It only took a few minutes for her to drift to sleep.

Dawn found herself in a dark forest without the familiar itch of her uniform on her back. She tried to reach for her saber, but that too was gone, leaving her to feel oddly naked and vulnerable. Neither the sun nor moon peered through the thick canopy, engulfing the place in threatening darkness. The only light to be found splotched along a path in front of Dawn, although she herself remained in shadow.

Curious, Dawn walked forward to see where the path led. Her steps felt light on the dirt and at one point she felt as if she had become a pegasus, floating above the little rocks and twigs that littered the path. She returned to earth as rough branches above her poked her back. She quickened her pace when she heard the black ferns rustle behind her.

More of the black ferns appeared in front of Dawn as she reached a fork in the trail. At the cusp of the fork a dark lump twitched and shivered. Dawn approached. She reached out her hoof, then recoiled as she recognized the yellow fur of the pony she had almost killed. Malt’s blue eyes were cold, reproachful, questioning. Dawn backpedaled once she saw the pool of blood forming under the young mare. She galloped away, choosing a fork in the path without thought.

She slowed down after several minutes, trying to control her breathing and heartrate back to normal. She was sweating, yet she felt cold.

Another fork in the trail came into view. Another mare lay in the path. Dawn did not recognize her at first but was able to place the patchy white and brown coat with that of Private Daisy, the mare who had died under her command at Paardenburg. Dawn had not known the mare, yet still felt tears flow under her eyelids as she looked over the body. She had a beautiful blonde mane, the same color as Dawn’s, along with a fresh, white daisy placed between her braids. The flower was a pure glimmer of light amid the shadows. Dawn reached for it, but the moment her hoof touched the soft petals the flower wilted away. Dawn backpedaled again. She galloped down another fork in the trail, again, without thought.

Two more times she reached a fork where a pony lay, and two more times she ran away, unable to understand, unable to discover the truth.

The forest became darker with each stride until Dawn could no longer see where she walked. Only a single star twinkled through the forest before her, its light the only thing not overcome by the darkness. It shined on another fork. Dawn feared for the pony she would find here. She could not take another step. But she had to.

The pony’s cream colored coat glistened with every bit of the scarce starlight. Unlike the previous ponies Dawn had encountered in this forest, this mare wore the uniform of an officer, a single white gem on the cuff denoting the rank of cornet. Cornet Star.

Dawn screamed. This was not true. It could not be true. She wanted to run away again, but the darkness before her was too solid a barrier. She could no longer go forward. She turned her back to the starlight, picking up a renewed gallop away from the horror. Something solid stopped her.

“It’s alright, Dawn,” Princess Luna said, offering her hoof to assist Dawn to her hooves. Dawn rubbed the tears out of her eyes to gaze at the dark blue pony. Behind her the forest transformed and glowed in pale moonlight, the ferns and trees softening into cool, gentle shades.

“Y-you know who I am?” Dawn asked. She was not even sure she knew who she was anymore.

“I may walk the dreams of many ponies, but each is just as important to me as if they were my closest friend. Besides, we have met in this realm once before,” Luna said.

“This is a dream, then? None of this is actually true?”

“Yes, Dawn, but often the things we encounter in our dreams are all too real; they are a reflection of some truth about ourselves whether we are cognizant of it or not,” Luna spoke softly. “Come, walk with me.”

Dawn followed obediently as Luna led her through the forest to where Dawn had encountered the first fork in the trail. Malt was sitting there, a glowing projection of a happy pony playing with her dog.

“As I recall, this is the pony that spurred our previous encounter, yes?” Luna said.

“Yeah,” Dawn replied. “I shot her. And felt good about it.” Dawn felt a lump in her throat. “I’m an awful pony for that.”

“But she lived because you found her and brought her home. You found a better solution to do your duty and spare her fellow ponies at the same time.”

“And got Daisy killed. She was innocent. I led her to die just the same.” Dawn’s voice choked as more tears found their way free from deep inside her.

“Few ponies carry the burden you do, Dawn. Even those who hold our commission.”

“A commission I should never have deserved,” Dawn pouted.

“No, Dawn, we gave you that commission because you earned it, because you belong, and because we trust in you to lead.” Luna looked away briefly, a sad expression drawing against her pretty features. “The world we live in is changing, Dawn, more than me or my sister would like to admit. The choices we make now, the choices you make now, will carry us forward regardless of what we choose to believe. We have to choose wisely.”

“Then how do I do that?” Dawn asked.

“You must follow the light that you see. Only with the light that guides the way can you recognize when you walk in darkness,” Luna replied, gesturing to the moon that peeked through clusters of leaves. Its pale shafts splattered along the trail, illuminating one side of the fork. The other side was likewise lit, but in an unsettling yellow tone that seemed just as bright.

“But what if there is only light to choose from, as I’ve been doing?” Dawn looked at the lit paths, just as confused as before. “Have I really been choosing the dark path? I want so much to be a good pony, but am I a bad pony after all?”

“That is a question I cannot answer for you,” Luna sighed, then spoke firmly. “You have been lying to yourself for a long time, Dawn. Know that there is only one light, as there is only one darkness. It is up to you to choose and let each choice strengthen your integrity. Only then can you strive to be that pony of life upright, whose cheerful mind is free from weight of impious deeds and yoke of vanity.”

“But how,” Dawn asked. “How can I follow that path when my duty demands another for me?”

“You must make a choice, Dawn,” Luna said. The princess began to fade away.

“But Luna, wait… I need to know!” Dawn pleaded after the faint projection of the princess.

“Dawn,” she said, smiling.

“Luna!”

“Dawn!”

“Dawn, wake up!” Big Mac shook the mare, causing her to tumble from her posture against the tree. Dawn gasped as she opened her eyes, placing her hooves in front of her to instinctually catch her fall.

“What the hay!” Dawn grumbled, brushing dirt off her muzzle. She returned her helmet to her head and pushed herself upright.

“Company is through the ravine, ma’am. Time fer us t’ go.”

“Right,” Dawn said while following Big Mac. She knocked her hoof to her helmet and squinted, trying to overcome the confusion of drowsiness and adjust to the night. She tripped on a rock before her eyes finally cooperated.

Crag and Applesnack stood at the edge of the ravine with rifles drawn towards the dozing zebras. The two picquets were sprawled at the ponies’ feet, chests heaving in deep sleep. A few sounds carried through the night from the main camp. The zebras there had been given a lesser dose and were thus beginning to stir.

“Let’s go,” Dawn whispered. She half-walked, half-slid down the ravine then picked up a trot when she reached the bottom. Crag was more graceful, flying down to land in front of the lieutenant and lead the way through the forest to the company’s rendezvous point.

Dawn’s ponies stood in the middle of a clearing, moonlight lighting up their colored faces with cool tints of blue. The faces carried an energy Dawn had not seen since they landed, but they also bore a look of expectance as each turned to stare at the lieutenant. Dawn waved at the cornets and brought them around her.

“So, what now, lieutenant?” Cornet Polish asked. Belle’s brow indicated the same sentiment.

“We need to keep moving through the night to regroup with the expedition. Those zebras are going to be pissed when they wake up, especially their captain,” Dawn said.

“I can only imagine why,” Star snarked.

Sprint tilted her head at the remark. “Oh, and why is that?” she said.

Dawn let out a breath. “Nothing important, and it’s not what you think, Star.”

Sprint shot an inquisitive glance at Star, but the cream-colored unicorn’s expression remained unchanged.

“What matters now is that we complete our mission.” Dawn hesitated, considering a part of her plan, then continued, “Cornet Belle, you will lead the company’s march. There is an old road that starts northwest of the town and should lead to a point on the north of the island. From there we follow the coastline to regroup. Cornet Sprint, you’re in charge of the security; we don’t need any surprises like we had before, eh? And Cornet Star, you will stay with Belle while I use your platoon.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, did I miss something?” Star said.

“What damn foal idea do you have now, lieutenant?” Belle said, narrowing her eyes.

“Look, the important thing is that we get the company back to battalion,” Dawn explained. “But if the pirates were indeed camped out in the town just beyond this forest, any intel we find there can be valuable to our mission to rescue those hostages. I want to check it out.”

“Sure, but why my platoon? And why Belle to lead the company?” Star said.

Dawn gulped down a lump in her throat. “Because…” she began. “Because Belle is the senior cornet, and you’re the junior.” That was not the real reason, but Dawn figured it was still valid. Belle beamed a bit at the recognition. Star kept her face placid.

“Everypony understand the plan,” Dawn said. The officers nodded. “Then let’s move.” Dawn rounded up the ponies from 4th platoon while the remaining ponies lined up at the edge of the clearing. Belle commanded 1st platoon to step off as Sprint and Polish were still forming their ponies up. Big Mac stood next to Dawn as the ragged column trudged through the forest.

“Sergeant, you can join the main column,” Dawn said, watching the khaki disappear from the moonlight.

“I’m stayin’ right beside you, ma’am,” Big Mac chuckled. “asides, I reckon you could use the help.” Crag and Applesnack joined beside the red stallion, their expressions just as resolute.

“No, I mean it, Sergeant MacIntosh. Go join …” Dawn stopped as her ears picked up faint shouts from the direction of the zebra camp. “Never mind, there’s no time. Ditty, stay close and keep your bugle ready in case we have to call the full company.”

Ditty grinned and levitated her instrument off its straps and next to her shoulder as she followed Dawn to the front of the platoon.

“At the trot, at ease, march!” Dawn kept her commands soft, relying on accompanying motions with her hoof to accentuate the order. Dawn slowed the ponies to a walk as they came onto the railroad near the southeast of the town. Specks of fresh metal on the rusted rails caught bits of moonlight that sparkled before them. The occasional knock of wood sounded above the clatter of gravel as hooves found more of the fresh, solid railroad ties instead of soft, rotten ones; the knocks became more frequent as the ponies approached the station.

“Fix bayonets. Skirmish order, move!” Dawn whispered.

The ponies relayed the order through the column, attaching the blades to their harnessed rifles and keeping heads low as they evolved the column into a scattered line. Dawn drew her saber. She looked to groups of ponies and pointed her blade at their objective. The platoon deployed from the edge of the forest, flashes of khaki catching the moonlight before darting into the shadows of abandoned railcars.

Dawn rushed with Big Mac and Ditty to the side of a locomotive. Bare metal on the wheels glinted, while the boiler radiated warmly into Dawn’s back. Applesnack moved to the station, peeking over the platform and then darting into the building while Crag flew on the roof, sticking his head over the crest to peer into the town. Both ponies returned behind Dawn as she took a new position on the station wall. They nodded to indicate the area was clear.

“Ain’t no creature here, ma’am,” Crag said.

“No, they’ve been here,” Dawn replied. “The train was still warm.” Ditty nodded in agreement.

“What use would pirates have for a train?” Applesnack remarked.

“Maybe we’ll find out more in the town,” Dawn said. She flashed her saber forward. The ragged skirmish line reformed and crouched forward, closing around the shacks on the edge of town. Dawn punched her hoof in the air. The line of soldiers rushed forward again, their bayonets flashing as they cantered to the doorways of the shacks.

Dawn’s group rushed to the structure in the center of town. Everypony pressed their back to the wall while Crag and Applesnack unharnessed their rifles and took them in their hooves as they leaned towards the door. Applesnack threw the door open with the butt of his rifle. Crag flew inside, bayonet leveled as the splinters fell. Dawn and the others followed.

The room was dark, but Dawn could just make out the shape of a table in the center. Some light filtered into the space from a dirty window, illuminating two heavy black boxes that sat side by side on the table.

“Is that a …” Big Mac started.

“A tele-fire machine, yes,” Dawn said, walking over to the table.

“What the hay?” Applesnack said.

“Aren’t those restricted to government use only,” Ditty chimed. She illuminated her horn to light up the room. One machine was new, it’s surface unmarred by the scrapes and dents that were present on the second machine.

“Yes, so why are these here,” Dawn muttered to herself. She frowned as she ran her hoof over the weathered metal, feeling the flakes of rust rub off. A plate along the top of it had the word “Phoenix” inscribed amid a myriad of scratches.

“You know, now that I think about it,” Crag observed, “that new tele-fire looks awfully similar to the one onboard the frigate. I reckon they’re sisters.”

“Ayep.”

“But why,” Dawn said. She opened the compartment of the new machine first and grabbed a message from inside. She read over it quickly then tossed it into her saddlebag. “Looks like the message about our landing never made it to the Berrichonhead,” Dawn explained. She turned her attention to the other compartment. “Nor have the messages from Canterlot been reaching us.” Dawn held out two scrolls from the compartment, both bearing the Royal Seal. Although one wax seal was broken, the impressions on both were crisp and elegant.

“Nightmare H. Moon…” Applesnack muttered.

“Ditty, bring your light over here,” Dawn spoke over the blasphemy, unraveling the open scroll first and holding it towards the unicorn. By the glow she could make out beautiful calligraphy arranged in the familiar message formatting of the Army:

CONFIDENTIAL

To: Colonel Spitfire, 1PW/CC, commanding Equestrian Expedition now present near Zebra Isles

Dear Col. Spitfire, I am afraid my audience with Caesar Grevyi has not gone as intended. Your expedition does not have permission to land on the main island. However, latest intelligence indicates that our poor ponies are being held in one of two abandoned fortresses to the northeast of the main island, away from Zebra territory. The Zebra Empire has been gracious enough to allow us coal in PORT ZEBAE on the south of the island. I trust you to accept this gesture in good faith and complete your mission to bring our ponies home. Attached is the latest map of the forts from a survey done last year.

Please acknowledge receipt as soon as you get this message.

Best of wishes,
Princess Celestia

Dawn looked at the second scroll which was a request for acknowledgement of receipt of the first message. She put that scroll in her saddlebag then flipped through the maps detailing the topography surrounding Forts Coroneghtbandt and Pasterndt. Ditty peeked over her shoulder as Dawn laid the maps down and retrieved her notepad and pen.

“Wood and clay reinforced forts, built by the Marejatha Confederacy,” Ditty exposited.

“You’re familiar with these forts,” Dawn asked, raising a curious eyebrow at the unicorn. She placed her pen in her mouth and started scribbling.

“Ditty was always fond of books about faraway places,” Crag offered with a fond grin.

“The Marejatha were a trading empire of zebras that came about after the banishment of Nightmare Moon. Their main source of power, according to surviving records, was control over the Azure Oak trees that grow on these islands.” Ditty’s lecture was rapid.

“Azure Oaks?”

“They are known for their striped grain. The wood is prized for its strength and workability. A whole log, especially one that was alive during Nightmare Moon’s coup, can go for a hefty price. Some ponies try to grow them underground to mimic long nights, but the zebras have been more successful,” Crag said.

“But the Marejatha collapsed over 100 years ago. The forts have been abandoned ever since.”

“Not anymore,” Applesnack remarked. He looked at his hooves then stepped outside. The sound of liquid splattering on dirt followed.

“Some of the stumps ‘round here is fresh,” Big Mac observed. “Reckon the pirates been rebuildin’.”

“Hmmf,” Dawn finished her message and placed it in the worn tele-fire’s compartment. She spit out her pen, “I’m sending a message to Canterlot explaining what we know. It is imperative we get this information back to the major.” A green glow vaporized the paper and sent it away through some magical ether. “Big Mac, can you round up…”

“We’ve got zebras,” Applesnack ran back into the room. A rifle shot cracked from the south.

“Shit,” Dawn swore. She ran outside to see the glare of metal from the legionnaires’ helmets scurry toward two shacks on the edge of the town. The ponies in khaki were moving back towards cover, pulling out rounds from their pouches to load their rifles. Dawn knew a stand here was futile; if they did not get back with their intel the whole expedition was doomed to fail.

“4th platoon, on-line here,” Dawn shouted, holding her saber flat across her body. A khaki line formed on either side of her. “Harness, ARMS! Make ready!” The ponies replaced their rifles in the harnesses and took the bits in their mouth. The ground in front of Dawn’s line lit up with flashes from the zebras’ rifles, a few bullets striking the dirt in front of them. Dawn took a deep breath.

“Three rounds, volley, FIRE!” The crackle of musketry ripped through the town. The flashes from the zebras stopped as they went to ground. “FIRE!” The second volley slammed the rifles hard into the ponies’ harnesses, causing the less experienced to spread their legs out to brace against the impact. “FIRE!” Dawn paused for the volleys’ echo to clear out of her ponies’ ears then yelled, “at the canter, everypony follow me!” The silence following the third volley was quickly replaced by clattering hooves as Dawn led her ponies away from another fight; she hoped it would not be their last.

Chapter 13

“Good morning, Luna!”

“Morning, sister,” Luna grumbled through half-closed eyes. She opened them fully when she realized the white figure of Celestia was indeed sitting at the breakfast table. “You are back sooner than I expected, sister.” Luna took a seat at the table across from Celestia. The daytime princess’s face was just as drawn and tired as hers.

“Unfortunately. My trip did not go as well as I hoped, so I took the overnight airship back. There are too many things which need my attention here,” Celestia said. She smiled, letting the light of her expression banish any trace of her fatigue. “Besides, I missed making breakfast for my favorite sister!”

Luna picked at the strawberries, arranged in a smiling pattern, on the plate of pancakes in front of her. She stuck her nose into the whipped cream and struggled to bring her tongue up to lick it away. “I am your only sister…” Luna said. She yawned then pushed the plate aside. “What happened in Roam?”

Celestia frowned briefly, then feigned another smile. “Caesar Grevyi is doing well, and Roam has grown so much since I was last there; it’s quite the place to be,” Celestia chuckled. “But alas, they denied us permission for military access for the expedition.”

Luna’s ears shot straight up, the drowsiness in her body replaced by alert concern. Celestia put down a bite of pancake. “What is it, sister?”

“I am afraid that the expedition is already on the island,” Luna explained.

“How do you know that? I sent several messages to Colonel Spitfire, but I have yet to receive a response. I believe today I shall pay a visit to the tele-fire department.” Celestia directed her eyes towards the hallway doors.

“Last night,” Luna began, her gaze drifting to a different corner of the room, “I visited a dream of an officer who is a part of the expedition.”

“Is this the same pony you wrote to me about?” Celestia asked. Luna nodded.

“The mare was very distressed. From what I was able to gather two ponies under her command were killed yesterday.”

“I am so sorry, Luna.” Celestia looked as if she was going to cry. “I know that must have been difficult.”

“It is the world we are living in, sister,” Luna sighed. She looked down at the table as Celestia levitated a box in front of her.

“Well, I got you this gift while in Roam,” Celestia beamed at her sister as she set the box down. “After your letter, I hoped that it would cheer you up.”

Luna tore the brown paper wrapping and used her magic to pull out a necklace, holding it up to inspect the dark blue gems in the shape of a moon and stars that adorned it. “It is lovely, sister,” Luna said, the muscles around her mouth tensing as she tried to smile.

“Oh, but watch this.” Celestia cast a small imitation of the sun in the center of the table. The light caught the gems on the necklace, coloring them in a glistening silver that sparkled against Luna’s fur and the rest of the room.

“How thoughtful, sister,” Luna said, parting her mane to clasp the necklace.

“I even got myself one,” Celestia said, levitating a matching necklace with a single sun-shaped gem as its pendant. She doused her imitation sun and held the necklace under the table, motioning for Luna to look underneath with her. Luna rolled her eyes then ducked to see the light that radiated from the second necklace, some of which reflected on her own and recolored it silver.

“Could you believe it, a simple enchanting potion for light-sensitivity,” Celestia marveled. “It took me forever to find, but eventually I stumbled into a shop that was crowded with zebras. You know what they say: when in Roam, do as the Roamans do.”

“Your Majesties,” a pony announced as she entered the room. Luna bumped her horn on the table as she righted herself.

“Yes, Ms. Inkwell,” said Celestia, her movements far more graceful as she addressed the pony.

“You have a request for an audience. Lieutenant Colonel F.D. Simmer, 2nd North Equus Regiment of Hoof.”

“Is that not the pony who lost the colors on the Northwest Frontier?” Luna said dryly. She rubbed her hoof against her horn, wincing at the tenderness radiating through her forehead.

“Hmm, I thought that he would be with his battalion, on the expedition,” Celestia said. “Did he indicate the purpose of his visit?”

“He stated that he is here to follow up on a request to revoke the commission of an officer under his command, a Lieutenant Dawn Glean,” Raven Inkwell said.

Celestia passed a glance at Luna upon hearing the name. Luna acknowledge the recognition with a frown.

“What are the reasons for this request?” Luna asked.

Raven levitated a clipboard and read from it. “Dereliction of duty, conduct unbecoming of an officer, disobeying a direct order, assaul-”

“Thank you, Raven.” Celestia stopped the recitation. “Inform the colonel that we are not accepting callers today.”

“And the request for revocation is denied. Please dispose of the paperwork,” Luna ordered.

“Very well, Your Majesties. Also, there is this message which arrived early this morning.” Raven placed the scrap of paper on the table then bowed and exited the room.

Celestia wrapped the paper in her magic and read through it. She flattened her lips and floated the message towards Luna. “I think you should read this, sister. You might understand it better – I could never get used to military mannerisms.”

Luna put her eyes to the neat albeit hasty writing:

URGENT/CONFIDENTIAL

To: HQ, Ponyguards, Canterlot

Message from Princess Celestia not received, false message received instead. Expedition landed on main island. Current command was detached, encountered zebra force from 3rd Cohort, XX Legion Northwest of PORT ZEBAE. Escaped custody, now present in pirate camp North of PORT ZEBAE. Discovered captured tele-fire machines, evidence of fortification of FORT CORONEGTHBANDT AND PASTERNDT. Believe security of mission is compromised.

Lt. Dawn Glean, commanding C Company, 2/North Equus

“We have a problem, sister,” Luna said, putting down the paper. “I fear that the theory Major Bolt suggested in his dispatch may be true.” A confused expression registered in Celestia’s ears, to which Luna offered an explanation. “Sorry, I forgot that you were away when he sent his dispatch. He believes that the events on the Northwest Frontier were planned by somepony. It is possible the same thing may be happening with our expedition.”

“Then we must do something,” Celestia affirmed. “If somepony is trying to harm our ponies, we must do all that we can to protect them.” She pushed back her chair and started walking into the main chamber. Luna followed.

“There is nothing we can do, sister. Events are moving faster than we can anticipate. It seems that we can only react now,” Luna said.

“Then let us hope and trust. It seems the pony you visited is right in the middle of this situation.” Celestia’s horn glowed as she looked into the pastoral valley sprawled beyond the white skyline of Canterlot. Slowly the sun rose over the mountains to shine across the landscape, its rays catching the surface of the river as it climbed.

“Yes; I believe she is capable despite what that prancer Simmer thinks. We can trust in her to lead us out of this mess,” Luna said. She watched the colors of dawn unfold before her. Then quietly, to herself, she added, “if only she can learn to trust in herself.”

“4th Platoon, HALT!” Dawn ordered. The ponies skidded through the dirt along the trail to arrest their momentum. The sun had just risen, warm shafts of light shining lazily though gaps in the forest and at the edge where the woods gave way to grassy plains. The aura of the morning promised of a beautiful day ahead, except the soft light now showed Lieutenant Dawn just how close the legionnaires had bridged the gap between her platoon after hours of running in the concealment of night.

Dawn had sent her pegasi ahead to warn the main company, giving it a half-mile lead on 4th platoon and its pursuers. But that gap was closing, and Dawn needed to buy more space before the open ground allowed the zebras clear fields of fire.

“Give them some lead then fall back at the canter,” Dawn shouted to the makeshift line crouching around her. “Five rounds magazine, independent, FIRE!” The rounds swept through the undergrowth. Brief flashes of blue uniform moved through the ferns then disappeared as the leaves quivered. Loud smacks resounded through the forest as some bullets found their way into the trees.

The ponies turned tail and picked up a canter just as the zebras began returning fire. The air whistled above the ponies’ heads. Dawn thanked Celestia for the legionnaires’ inexperience. The return fire stopped as the ponies moved out of sight down a slight dip in the land. Dawn led her platoon along the contour of the slope then broke into a gallop as she cleared the forest edge. With nothing but open grass in front of her, Dawn encouraged her ponies to do the same.

A pony tumbled next to Dawn, hit by a bullet that grazed the top of her hip and lodged harmlessly into the top of Dawn’s helmet. A dozen other ponies tripped over the fallen mare. They rolled through the grass as their momentum violently dissipated.

Dawn slowed her gait back to a canter and veered left towards a hill that broke the flat terrain. She swore as she saw a fresh unit of legionnaires running to deploy on her flank; the line extended towards the hill, cutting her platoon off. The reinforcements had arrived. Behind her, the other unit of zebras was already in position, their fire becoming steadier as more legionnaires joined the line.

“Get down,” Applesnack roared.

Dawn and the rest of the platoon threw themselves into the grass as fire from the flanking zebras flew overhead. Dawn looked around at her ponies; their colorful faces were gritty from dirt and gunpowder and sweat dripped down their haunches, foaming white between their legs. Heavy breaths rustled the grass, the dew disappearing as it soaked into shuffling tunics and fur. The ponies were tired of running.

Dawn knew her chances of escaping this time were slim; she had exhausted her options just as she had exhausted her ponies. And it was all her fault, her responsibility. Dawn stood up, drawing her saber to meet the threat of the legionnaires with full confidence. This was her duty, her obligation, and she was going to face it alone.

“I said get the fuck down!” Applesnack and Big Mac threw their hooves on top of the lieutenant, forcing her back into the grass.

“You ain’t doin’ anypony any good by gettin’ shot,” Big Mac said.

Dawn looked wild-eyed at the red stallion. Her breathing was hoarse, and her heart raced just as quickly and sporadically as her mind.

“What are your orders, ma’am?”

Dawn froze. She thought about it but the only words that came to mind were run or surrender. She muttered something along those lines, but only Big Mac heard her.

He translated. “Magazine, independent, fi-”

“Aim for the flanking unit, 200 lengths,” Applesnack interjected.

“FIRE!” Big Mac’s deep voice initiated a rapid fury of rifle fire from the ponies. Ditty blew her bugle to echo the order, the bright, steady notes quickly drowned out by the noise. Dawn buried her muzzle in the grass as the ponies’ fire gained intensity around her. A firm hoof from Big Mac brought her back to the fight.

“Come on, lieutenant, the zebras is that a ways,” Big Mac chuckled. If the red stallion was nervous, Dawn could not notice by the warm look he radiated.

“Right,” Dawn said. “Ditty, play us something cheerful.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the unicorn grinned before breaking into a bouncy march. The music livened the platoon, a few ponies sporting smirks as they reached for fresh cartridges from their pouches. Dawn knew it was only a matter of time before her platoon’s ammunition and morale were exhausted, but at least the music ensured that the bullets would be the first to go.

The grass and khaki uniforms provided enough concealment for her ponies to avoid the bulk of the legionnaires fire, but Dawn figured it would not be long before the superior numbers of the zebras were maneuvered to employ the full effects of their firepower. She cursed the validity of her thoughts as she noted the higher pitches fade out from the cacophony of musketry. The legionnaires were on the move.

Dawn poked her head above the grass. Both units of zebras had fixed bayonets and were advancing steadily towards the Equestrian position. She heard the officers shout something which spurred the glistening mass of blue and brass forward at a canter, followed by an eerie chanting of hundreds of zebra tongues.

“Cease fire!” Dawn ordered. She debated her next order. Fix bayonets and meet the charge head on, or retreat to a better position. The tightness in her stomach led her to choose the latter. “Everypony on your hooves. At the gallop, fall back!”

Big Mac slung the wounded mare on his back as the platoon sprinted away from the charging zebras. Dawn looked back. The steel bayonets were getting closer, the fresh unit of zebras breaking into a gallop after the ponies. The chants became louder. Dawn realized her mistake. She was not going to outrun them, and it was too late to stand and return fire to break the charge. She could now only imagine the cold steel scraping against the bones in her back.

The clear notes of an Equestrian bugle cut over the zebra chant, the triplet arpeggio and leap signifying the charge for a cavalry squadron. The khaki helmets of the pegasi crested the hill first, the rest of their bodies swooping down into the grass with saber points held forward. The metal blades were bright against the dark blue coats that the ponies stubbornly clung to. The steel of Princess Luna’s Own was enough to check the advance of the legionnaires.

“Platoon, HALT!” Dawn ordered. “Make ready! PRESENT!” The ponies lined up next to Dawn and pointed their rifles at the legionnaires as the second squadron from the dragoons flew around the enemy’s rear. Dawn saw the fight leave the zebras once they realized the extent that the Equestrians had encircled them. Dawn smiled. Now it was her turn to be the captor.

“Nightmare Moon, lieutenant! You stirred up quite the twittermites’ nest,” Major Noctilucent panted as she landed next to Lieutenant Dawn. The pegasus undid the top buttons of her tunic to allow steam to vent off her gray chest.

Dawn removed her helmet to shake sweat from her mane. She ran her hoof over the new bullet hole that tore through the fabric and cork at the crown. “It was good your regiment arrived when it did,” Dawn said. “I’m afraid I might have pissed off a few too many zebras.” Dawn let her eyes shift to her hooves.

“Are you saying you engaged Zebra Empire troops first? On their own damn island?” Noctilucent’s eyes widened.

“No, they ambushed us first, then took us prisoner, then we escaped, then they chased us,” Dawn explained. “It’s all rather complicated.”

“Sure. Still doesn’t seem like something to shoot up the whole island over, though.”

“Well, I may have pissed off one zebra in particular …” Dawn trailed off as a contingent of zebra officers approached the ponies. She turned red as she made eye contact with Praeclarus then instantly looked away. His eyes, though, did not, the glistening orbs of hate remaining fixated on the blue mare.

“By the Stars, this is quite the mess,” the senior zebra officer said. She offered her hoof to Noctilucent. “Lieutenant Colonel Mwezi. I am Primus Pilus of the 3rd Cohort, XX Legion as well as overseer for the military administration of this island.”

“Pleasure, ma’am. Major Noctilucent, Princess Luna’s Own, 2nd Dragoon Guards. Your Ponish is quite good.”

“I grew up near the Southern Equestria border; spent most of my years in school there before moving to Roam in service to the Empire.”

“Hmm, in that case I figure you should be better at distinguishing ponies in the Princesses’ uniform from zebra pirates, no?”

“Trust me, I know the difference, but I was not aware of any Equestrians on my island; Captain Praeclarus informed me that we were tracking a rogue band of pirates. Which you obviously are not. Excuse us.” The zebra gave Praeclarus a vile look then grabbed the officer and moved him a few paces away from the ponies. The two spoke in the exotic tongue of the Empire.

Although Dawn could not distinguish the strings of consonants into coherent words, the tone of Mwezi was enough to convey that she was reprimanding the junior officer. Noctilucent seemed to blush at some of the words.

“Do you know what they’re saying, ma’am?” Dawn whispered.

“My understanding of their language, especially the Imperial dialect, is spotty. But I can tell you that you probably don’t want to know.”

“I see,” Dawn said, hoping the cavalry officer’s understanding of the language was sparse enough to keep her from ascertaining the truth of what spurred the rage of Praeclarus upon her company.

“You look awfully red in the cheeks there for a blue pony, lieutenant. What’s on your mind, eh?” Noctilucent kidded with a sly smirk wrinkling around her muzzle.

“Nothing. Probably just the sun,” Dawn said, blushing even harder. She pulled her tail hard between her legs. She felt like a foal who had been found out, yet she also knew that as a grown mare such thoughts were absurd. Yet the feeling of guilt persisted within her, kept there by the image of Star, the foreign eyes of her friend judging, gnawing at her conscience. Dawn sighed. It all felt like a bad dream.

“My apologies,” Mwezi said as she finished her conversation and walked back to the Equestrian officers. She passed a raised eyebrow towards Dawn then focused her attention on Noctilucent. “It appears one of my officers has led us astray and caused this misunderstanding; we are not at war, and I have no desire to be, so the use of force was unwarranted. However, the fact still remains that you are present on Imperial soil without permission.”

Noctilucent raised her head in surprise, “As a matter of fact, we have written orders from Princess Celestia herself expressly stating-”

“Let me explain,” Dawn interjected. “We actually were denied military access. The letter we received was a fraud, while the real letters were going to a captured tele-fire in a town south of here…”

“Still, how is one of our machines on your island,” Noctilucent flattened her ears towards Mwezi.

The zebra took a defensive expression. “Are you accusing the Empire of conspiracy, Maj-”

“Stop!” Dawn raised her voice. “It’s my belief that the pirates are behind this. It’s quite possible they’re trying to fool the zebras, too.” Dawn offered the last sentence to appease Mwezi, who brought her ears forward again but retained a hardness in her eyes. “Fighting amongst ourselves is only playing into what the pirates, or whoever is controlling them, want. No more of our ponies or zebras need to get hurt,” Dawn said. She winced as she remembered her list.

“I agree with you, lieutenant. The pirates have been here for many years, but only in recent months has their activity increased enough to become a significant issue. It is an issue, however, that remains a domestic one.”

“Not quite,” Noctilucent said, “since seventeen of our ponies are being held hostage by them, hence our reason to be here.”

“Hmm, Praeclarus didn’t mention that. But you will still have to come with me.”

“I have a different idea,” Noctilucent smiled while holding up her hoof. The two squadrons of dragoons caught the cue, leveling their sabers towards the legionnaires. Dawn buried her face in her hooves; this is not what she meant.

“Are you threatening us?” Mwezi’s hostility returned.

Noctilucent lowered her hoof, along with the 300 sabers attached to its motion, and continued to smile. “No, I know I have no authority to take prisoners; we’re not at war, remember. Consider it a small display of our expedition’s power. There are another 1,000 rifles to complement those sabers, plus 200 of Equestria’s best fliers, four 13-pounder guns, and a fully armed frigate. If you were to let us go, we might be able to solve your pirate problem for you.”

“How can I trust you?” Mwezi questioned. “Praeclarus said your lieutenant here broke his trust.”

Dawn felt the guilt return. She could feel the glare of Praeclarus bore into her from the shadow of Mwezi.

Noctilucent brushed past the accusation, proclaiming, “You have my word as an officer and a gentlemare, as well as the special integrity with which I am held as a pony chosen by Her Majesty Princess Luna.” She spread her wings to perform a graceful bow.

“Very well,” Mwezi said after a moment’s thought. “You have until sunset to prepare your plans and be off this island. I better not see hoof or tail of those pirates after you’re done.”

“Thank you, Colonel Mwezi. We will be on our way. It was a pleasure to meet an officer such as yourself.”

“Likewise.” Mwezi returned the Equestrian officer’s salutes. “May the Stars spare you in storming the castle.”

Dawn and Noctilucent looked at each other as they walked back to their ponies. They both knew. The real fighting had only just begun.

Chapter 14

The morning was still young as Lieutenant Dawn and Major Noctilucent led their column up the heights. The infantry and dragoons trod the steep path towards the ruined castle that was the expedition’s camp. Out in the cove, the Phoenix sailed through clear water to her berth in the shallows beside the Berrichonhead. A cluster of ponies in shirt-sleeves worked along the beach, moving crates between the ship and waiting teams of pegasi that carried them up to the ruins.

More flights of pegasi took off and landed from inside the castle, their sleek blue flight suits dashing over the crumbling parapet as they flapped their wings to climb higher into the sky. The little blue smudges then banked to the northeast, eventually disappearing into hazy blue oblivion as they flew to continue the recon of the two fortresses.

“Major, lieutenant, welcome back,” Major Bolt hailed from the archway that led into the castle. Dawn, out of breath from the climb, offered a salute in lieu of words. Bolt returned the salute as he smiled then gave Noctilucent a hoof bump. “As you can see,” he said, gesturing to the mess of ivy and decaying stonework around him, “we have spared no expense and chosen only the finest billets for our time here.”

“I still can’t believe you convinced the Wonderbolts to stay in this dump. You know they don’t stay in anything with less than a three-hooves rating.” Noctilucent pinched her nose and lip up in mock disgust.

“They settled in nicely after the colonel had a little chat with them,” Bolt chuckled. “Besides, you guards aren’t much better. What does your regiment want on the menu tonight? I’ve already ordered the fine china up here.”

“Damn, Bolt, do you know how to run a mess.” Noctilucent laughed alongside the earth pony, but then stopped to tuck her lips firmly together. “But I’m afraid we’re not going to get a chance to get comfortable here.”

“The cornets from C Company told me something was up when they arrived not long ago. Let’s go see the colonel.” Bolt, ever the host, offered a gesture of welcome with his foreleg, then fell-in step beside the mares. “And you and I have a lot to talk about, Dawn.”

Dawn snorted as she followed Bolt. The major led the way inside the castle walls and up a much worn stairway to the parapet. Colonel Spitfire leaned against one of the few solid looking merlons, a pair of field glasses held in her wings as she surveyed the flights of Wonderbolts flying overhead.

“How did the patrol go this morning, Bolt?” Spitfire said dryly without removing the field glasses.

“Look for yourself, colonel,” Bolt replied.

The fiery pegasus scowled as she put her field glasses down, then smirked as she recognized the blue fur of Dawn. “Looks like we’re a whole expedition again. Did you have fun, lieutenant?”

Dawn, her perception numbing, opened her mouth to answer the rhetorical question, but Bolt saved her by speaking first.

“We’ll talk about that later. How is the search going?”

“Well, one flight has already reported back that the La Mare is anchored off the eastern most island, next to an abandoned fort. I have the rest of the squadrons running pattern of life patrols to confirm that’s where our hostages are. Should be ready to execute the rescue tomorrow morning.” Spitfire’s wings extended as she briefed, her excitement filtering through the animated features.

“Sorry to pop your balloon, colonel, but we need to be off this island by sunset, or else some zebras are going to be pretty angry,” Noctilucent said.

“So, you found more than our missing company on your patrol then?”

“More like the lieutenant found and I rescued her from…”

“What a foolish …”

“I think we better let the lieutenant deliver her report,” Bolt put a stop to the banter. “Dawn, if you please.”

“Yes, sir, thank you,” Dawn said, clearing the thoughts that had been building while she listened to the senior officers.

“The zebras in question are Imperial Legionnaires that jumped us in a forest just east of where the Phoenix ran aground. They took us along as prisoners to a logging town near the center of the island, where they believed a camp of pirates to be operating. But the place had been abandoned shortly before we arrived.

“I was able to get my company free of custody and check out that town, where I found two captured tele-fire machines that have been used to intercept our messages. We also discovered evidence that the pirates have been salvaging wood from the island to repair the forts. Shortly thereafter the zebras found us and pursued us until the dragoons were able to intervene.”

Dawn finished her report by retrieving the documents in her saddlebag to give to Colonel Spitfire. She also hoofed her casualty list to Major Bolt before a fresh bout of fatigue tugged at her eyes.

“Damn, that’s some fine soldiering, lieutenant,” Spitfire said as she spread the maps out on the stone. “Foolishly risky, but damn fine. You might just make a good Wonderbolt if you had wings.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Dawn blushed at the praise, jerking her drooping head up to accept what was a rare thing for her lately.

“So, our hostages are probably in Fort Coroneghtbandt,” Bolt said as he peeked over Spitfire’s shoulder to look at the map.

“Should be an easy in and out,” Spitfire said, “nothing the Wonderbolts can’t handle.”

“Actually, there’s more.” Noctilucent’s tone caused Spitfire to glare once again. “Part of our agreement with the zebras was that we would take care of their pirate problem for them.”

“Find any other friendship problems we should solve while you were gone? Both of you.”

The ease with which Spitfire switched between genuine praise and biting criticism surprised Dawn enough to rein in the dullness spreading through her. She saw Bolt pass her a glance before he spoke.

“I suggest we start transferring the ponies back to the ships. We can create our plan while en route.”

“Fine. Major Bolt, start the transfer. Major Noctilucent, put out another squadron patrol to make sure those zebras don’t give us any more trouble. I’ll recall the wing.”

Spitfire and Noctilucent flew off the parapet to give orders to their commands, leaving the earth ponies alone to trudge down the stairs.

“You look like you can use some grapes, Dawn,” Bolt said, “and some rest.”

“What?” Dawn mumbled.

“Some grapes. You know, a bit of pep in your step.”

“Yes, sir.” Dawn breathed the response as she navigated a crumbled stair and stepped firmly into the courtyard. Ponies from C Company lay where they could, catching sleep for the first time since they set hoof on the island. In a corner the cornets had found a patch of moss to curl up on, the four of them dozing soundly as the earth pony officers walked past.

“I mean it, Dawn. Bless your heart, you look awful. Get some sleep.”

“No, sir,” Dawn affirmed. Her eyes drifted onto the cream body of Star, the unicorn’s chest rising and falling gently as she dreamed. Dawn shook her head and looked away, trying to find more energy to keep the world from darkening around her. “I’ll be fine. We have work to do, sir.”

Bolt sighed. “Very well. We’ll load your company onto the Phoenix last; let them sleep for now.”

Dawn eased herself onto her tiny stateroom’s cot, a guttural groan escaping as her haunches sank into the springs. She swung her hind legs over onto the covers with her and stretched her fore legs out. The release of tension along her back felt amazing. She pressed her head against the pillow, allowing her bow to come untied and her braids to fall out. Although covered in a rough fabric, the pillow was, by contrast to her dirt-matted fur, soft and warm against her ears and cheek. Dawn lay still, feeling the soothing numbness start first in her hoofs, then work through her limbs to calm her chest into long, deep breaths. She closed her eyes, cherishing the sweet release as the gentle hum of the frigate’s engines faded away until she was on the very edge of slumber.

But she could not go to sleep. Dawn opened her eyes. Her heart beat rapidly to push blood back to reanimate her limbs. Dawn sighed as she looked about her cabin, trying to find something, anything, to keep herself occupied.

A shaft of moonlight filtered into the stateroom from a small viewport, barely illuminating the sparse furnishings. Occasionally bright bursts of lightning would flash through the room, providing enough light for Dawn to make out the form of Captain Cherry Bounce laying on a cot across from her. The red unicorn was stable but had not regained consciousness since her accident. Dawn sighed again.

A thump followed by muffled shouts above Dawn’s head told her that a weather flight had just returned while another launched. The Wonderbolts’ weather squadron had been working hard to generate storms ever since the expedition left the main island. The hope was that the rough weather would keep the pirates stuck in harbor until the expedition’s flotilla was in position.

Dawn reviewed those details of the plan, as well as all the others that had been devised over the course of many hours, in an effort to ward off her drowsiness.

It had been decided that the Wonderbolts would infiltrate Fort Coronneghtbandt just after dawn and retrieve the hostages. But before then, at twilight, the ponies of the 2nd North Equus and 2nd Dragoon Guards, with support from the gun crews of the Phoenix and the wing artillery, would launch a diversionary assault on Fort Pasterndt. Their goal was to occupy the pirates until the Wonderbolts completed their mission. Then the guns would blast both forts to splinters before sailing back to Equestrian shores. It was a simple plan.

Dawn ran a hoof through her mane, further tangling the mess of loose braids. She unbuttoned her tunic and lay it beside as she sprawled on her cot. She stared at the ceiling, rehearsing her timetables for the assault as shadows flashed on the gray paint with increasing intensity. She calculated the figures, drawing from her memory of the distances drawn on the maps of the forts and her own recollection of the tables in the field service manual.

“How did you manage all of this, captain,” Dawn said, mostly to herself. She knew the answer, that her former captain had not. The red mare with her bouncy personality had not struck her as a by-the-book officer. Dawn assumed that Cherry Bounce had taken to her drinks as a means to manage the stress of leading a whole company. Yet, Dawn had never seen that stress crack into the mare’s spirit. Even in the room’s faint light, Dawn swore that Cherry Bounce was smiling as she slept across from her.

“I wish I knew where you got your grapes, ma’am,” Dawn spoke aloud now so the sound of her voice would keep her awake. “I feel that I’ve killed that spirit you brought so naturally into your company; there’s nothing left in everypony but to be tired.” Dawn yawned. When she closed her mouth, a tear freed itself from her eye to stroll down her cheek. “But that’s not the only thing in your company I’ve killed.”

Dawn let her tears flow to splatter on her chest as she continued. “You’re the one who belongs here, the one they should trust. This is your company, your army, your career; in a week, mine will cease to exist.”

Dawn’s sobbing was cut short by a knock on her door. She fumbled to put her tunic back on as she sniffed. “Hold on just a second.”

Cornet Star opened the door anyways, a tray of tea floating beside her as she walked in. She set the tray down on the ledge that served as the room’s desk and used her magic to ignite a lantern. The light illuminated her smile as it flickered to fill the room.

“Hey, Dawn. I thought you might like some tea, so I came by to bring you some,” Star said, “and to see if, maybe, you wanted to talk.”

“Thank you, Star, but I really…” Dawn stopped as Star placed a hoof on her chest, halting the progress of buttoning midway up her tunic.

Star’s eyes pleaded. “There’s no need to get dressed. I didn’t come to talk to Lieutenant Dawn. I came to talk to my friend.”

“Ok,” Dawn said, using every bit of courage to hold her voice together. She leaned from the cot to retrieve her mug of tea, plunging her muzzle into the steaming liquid to hide the wetness reforming in her eye.

“It’s just, you’ve seemed so distant lately. Even the other officers have noticed.”

“I have a company to lead, Star, it’s just part of it.” Dawn took another long sip of her tea, savoring the bitterness of the leaves.

“I know, and I understand how hard that is. But what happened to that officer I talked to on the train? What happened to that pony who was so determined, so full of undeluded hope? What happened to that pony who cared?” Star’s smile became even warmer, seeming to fill the room with more light than the lone lantern in the corner. “Because I care, Dawn. It hurts me to see you go down this path, to abandon who you were.”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it? We can help guide the way, you know.”

Star’s words pierced into Dawn’s heart to a depth she had never felt before. The path the young unicorn referred to flashed vividly before her, as if something from a dream. Dawn shivered. She tilted her mug to down the last of her tea as she thought about it. It was as if she was at the edge of a cliff, every fiber of her body tensed, ready to jump, ready for that one command to give in. All she needed was a simple push.

The frigate provided it first. The guns roared to life, rocking the ship as they flung shells toward the dark shape of Fort Pasterndt that loomed off the bow. Dawn felt the flood of details of the plan rush back to her already crowded mind. She started to button her tunic again but stopped just short of placing her hoof on the brass. She looked into Star’s eyes.

“Yes,” Dawn smiled as Star’s eyes lit up. “But first, we must work. Come along, Star.” Dawn finished buttoning her tunic. She fastened her saber belt and placed her helmet firmly over her ears. It was time to fight, for twilight was here.

Dawn reached a leg over the side of the boat, feeling the cool, salty water flow around her hoof. Beside her, other ponies were doing the same on the dozens of white hulls that seemed to glide over a black abyss. Little lines of color and khaki poked between oars that broke through the smooth water.

Overhead, shells from the Phoenix buffeted the air in high whistles, the glowing arcs of fuzes tracing through the twilight sky as they slammed into the walls of Fort Pasterndt. Flashes lit up the dark shape of the fort as the pirates began to wake up and fire back. Dull thuds of the guns mixed with gentle lapping of water against the boats, while treble pitches from clanking metal and rustling fabric sounded as ponies shifted. In the distance, deep rumbles of thunder drifted across the sea to add the bass to the polyphonic prelude.

“Never thought war could sound so peaceful,” Big Mac observed. “Honestly, ain’t too different from workin’ the orchard on a summer evenin’, especially with A.J.’s applebuckin’”

“That’s a lie you’re telling yourself, sarge,” Applesnack said. “Ain’t no way this shit can compare to that orchard of yours. Especially wit-.” A shell splashing next to the boat muffled the last part of Applesnack’s comment, although the sheepish giggle from Ditty told Dawn all she needed to know. She simply rolled her eyes.

Although Major Bolt’s order was to maintain silence until the battalion was in position along the beach, Dawn allowed the harmless banter to continue. The conversations were a way to ease nerves, something which her ponies had never had the luxury of contending with in the sudden ferocity of her previous engagements. Anticipation of a fight weighed just as much on a pony as the actual fighting, perhaps even more so.

A different feeling weighed on Dawn, though. She looked behind her to where 4th platoon’s boats drifted through the black water. The sea was still enough to reflect the ponies sitting there, each clutching their rifles in rippling images that sliced through the few fleeting stars gleaming on the surface.

Dawn swallowed down the anxiety that lumped in her throat. She should be nervous about the assault. But she wasn’t. There was another battle waiting for her, one where all the rifles and guns in Equestria had no power, but one where a pony could die all the same. And for that reason, she was afraid.

A flare shot up through the clouds, illuminating the sky and everything below it. Dawn’s fear would have to wait. From the flickering light she could see the outline of the beach rapidly approaching. To her right, the dragoons were already moving into position along a sandbar, flashes lighting up along their line as they opened fire towards where the pirates were believed to be. The dark shapes of the artillery flew overhead before the flare faded out, returning the battle to the gray darkness of twilight.

A sudden jolt announced that the boat had lodged into the sand of the beach. Dawn jumped out over the bow and started shouting orders. “Everypony, out! Fall into double column on me, let’s move!”

Big Mac echoed the order then took his place, as did Ditty, next to Dawn. The lieutenant tapped her hoof at the head of the forming column, waiting for the ponies to shuffle into their places before giving her next orders. “At the trot, forward, MARCH!”

Dawn led her company through the planned path, weaving through sand hills covered in tall patches of grass to their position on the left of the dragoons’ B Squadron. Behind her, A Squadron flew low, their legs rustling the grass as they moved to reposition on C Company’s flank.

“Company, HALT!” Dawn commanded. She took a quick survey of the small hill before her. “Belle, Polish, your platoons are on line first; volley fire only on my command. Sprint, extend your platoon on our right once the dragoons move out. Star, you’re in reserve until the rest of battalion joins us,” Dawn shouted over the musketry now sounding on both her flanks. “Platoon commanders, take control of your platoons!”

Dawn tried to look at her watch, but the hillside covered most of the light coming from the muzzle flashes. “Star, I think our ponies could use some light to shoot by. Let battalion know we’re in place.”

Star nodded before her horn sparked to conjure the flares. She shot a blue one up first, followed by a bright white flare that flickered against broken clouds.

Dawn scrambled up the loose sand of the hill and looked through her telescope towards the fort. Lights from small fires burning the walls reflected off a pair of open water tanks. A narrow path ran between them to where dark lines that cut through the soil showed where the pirates had dug in.

“400 lengths, make ready!” Dawn paused as the ponies adjusted their sights then brought their rifles up. “FIRE!”

Dawn commanded another two volleys, looking at her watch to count a full minute between each. The sound of bugles on her right drew her attention to where B Squadron was withdrawing from their hill. Sprint’s platoon extended to take their place. Behind the line of rifles more of the battalion jumped ashore, the white boats turning around to transfer the last load of ponies from the Berrichonhead. Beside that ship the guns of the Phoenix continued to pound away. The masts of both ships were now visible, the black lines cutting into a pink-tinged horizon. It would not be long before dawn, and with it the completion of the Wonderbolts’ rescue.

“How are we looking, lieutenant?” Major Bolt called from behind C Company’s position, his hoof raised to direct the remaining companies to their positions.

“Just fine, sir,” Dawn called back. “Belle, Polish take over for a moment. Five rounds, platoon volleys should keep them occupied.” Dawn, with Big Mac in tow, slid down the hill towards her commander as the cornets issued the orders.

“I’m going to have your company hold here until we withdrawal; just keep up enough suppressing fire to cover our feint on the left. Colonel Spitfire got the Wonderbolts off early, so we should only have another half hour of this at the most.” Bolt looked over his shoulder and smirked as percussive vibrations from the artillery, concealed behind a tree line, shook fine particles of sand into the air.

“Very good, sir.” Dawn smiled, thankful that for once everything was going according the plan.

“Keep up the good work, lieutenant. You handle that company so well, I might have to make the posting permanent. Isn’t that right, sergeant?”

“Ayep.”

Dawn’s ears pushed forward and her eyes lit up as she relished the major’s grapes and molasses. “Really, sir?” Dawn wanted to ask if he had heard anything about the revocation of her commission, but then she remembered that their communications were still compromised.

“Yeah, really,” Bolt continued to hold his smirk as he gave Dawn a tap on her withers. “But right now, we’ve got some pirate booty to kick. Keep an eye out for that green flare in the east; we may be out of here before the sun even touches our backs.” Bolt trotted off to follow the column of khaki, then halted for a step to yell back to Dawn. “Oh, and send your musicians down. We could use a good march to rouse spirits.” He resumed his trot while shouting, “alright, ponies, let’s do some shootin’!”

A surge of foalish gaiety sweep through Dawn as she climbed back to the crest of the hill. She accepted the feeling as a welcome change; perhaps this is what war was supposed to be like, when everypony was working together.

“What are you grinning about, lieutenant?” Belle said before dropping her saber forward to command another volley.

“Oh, nothing.” Dawn tried to return her face to a more serious expression, pushing her lips forward against the tension that wanted to pull them back.

Looking forward through her telescope, Dawn could see the sky becoming lighter, allowing her to just make out little spurts of sand that were flung up by the pirate’s bullets. Most of the projectiles were falling short by 100 lengths. On the left the rest of the battalion lined up at the edge of the trees, little darts of fire rippling across the line as each company started pouring volleys towards the pirates. Salvos from the artillery battery slammed into the base of the fort, chipping away large chunks of clay with each burst of explosive.

Out of the corner of her eye Dawn spotted the tan fur of Ditty lie down next to her. She kept her eye focused on the lens, but otherwise gave her attention to the bugler. “Ditty, Major Bolt wants the band to play something. Can you roun-.”

Dawn let her mouth hang open as the sparkle from a red flare arced through her lens.

“That ain’t good,” Big Mac said. His words seemed like a command as the guns on the Equestrian side of the battle fell silent.

Dawn swore, as did every officer who knew what the flare meant.

“Lieutenant, get down here!” Major Bolt galloped behind C Company, the other company officers following behind him.

Dawn dove down the hill. She spat out a lump of sand as she joined the officers. Major Noctilucent landed next to the group of ponies that were devolving into excited chatting amongst themselves. Dawn looked to Bolt to bring the group to order, but he simply stared in the direction of the flare, his expression grim.

“Get out of the way,” Spitfire roared to the officers as they parted to let the pegasus land. She skidded to a halt through the sand then put her head between her legs as she panted hard.

Bolt broke his stare and walked up beside the colonel. “What happened?”

“Damn … pirates … were waiting for us,” Spitfire spoke between deep breaths. “We lost two before we cleared them out. But the hostages were nowhere to be found; they must have moved them to this fort.”

“By Celestia, how could they have known,” Noctilucent mused.

“It doesn’t matter,” Spitfire snapped. “We need to get into this fort. Now.”

Dawn felt the familiar knot in her stomach return as she looked towards the imposing shape of Fort Pasterndt stand jagged against the pink edge of the sky.

“Ok, so what’s the plan,” Noctilucent asked.

“Damn, I was hoping you’d already thought of that,” Spitfire said. “The Wonderbolts can’t get in with those rifles tearing up the sky. We need to suppress them somehow.”

“We can take care of that,” Bolt said. “Give us two salvos from the artillery on the pirates entrenched in front of the fort for us to get a foothold, then a third salvo of smoke to provide cover for the Wonderbolts.”

“I’ll take the dragoons to the rear approaches of the fort; we can draw their fire and maybe find an alternate route if we need it.”

“It’s a plan. Let’s move everypony. Celestia help us all.” Spitfire spread her wings and took flight.

Major Bolt wasted no time. “I want C Company on fire support, A Company, you’re the lead. B and D Company, standby. All of you, get your companies formed up in front of the tanks!”

Dawn ran back to her company as the other commanders started galloping away. “Star, bring your platoon on line. Everypony, get ready for some shooting!”

“How bad is it, Dawn,” Star asked as she directed her ponies to line up on the left of Belle’s platoon.

“It’s not good, but we have a plan. We’re to stay here and provide fire support for A Company while they clear out those pirates in front of us.” Dawn fought back against the tension building in her gut. She watched the khaki formation materialize in front of her company’s hill. The blue and white silks fluttered at the head of the block, the golden alicorns that adorned the tips catching the first rays of dawn. The bugle call to fix bayonets sounded. The ponies twisted their necks back to grab the blades and attach them to their rifles.

“Dear Celestia,” Star muttered.

“Ayep,” Big Mac echoed the sentiment.

The land just beyond the tanks erupted in plumes of sand and smoke as the artillery’s first salvo crashed onto the pirates. The second volley screamed overhead, smashing down a moment later to intensify the violence.

The commander for A Company drew his saber and paced at the front of the block, his magic moving the blade in a salute to the colors before he shouted the order to advance.

“Five rounds, volley, FIRE!” Dawn shouted as A Company lurched forward. She ordered the second volley as the ponies extended their strides into the trot. The cloud of sand had cleared by the time Dawn commanded her third volley. She gasped as she saw hundreds of tiny figures emerge from the entrenchments. The pirates opened fire as she ordered her fourth volley.

The leading line of A company disintegrated immediately. The commander staggered, trying to restore the formation and urge his ponies forward into a canter. Their momentum halted as the colors fell to the ground. The ponies backpedaled before turning around completely to retreat.

Dawn was horrified. She watched with her mouth frozen on the letter f- for her last volley. She turned it into a profanity.

“We have to do something besides curse, ma’am,” Star said. The unicorn looked to the left. The other two companies were still struggling to march through the sand. They were too far away to curb the disaster.

“Star, wait …”

Star jumped to her hooves, flashing her saber as she took a perch on the crest of the hill. Her eyes burned with a determination that twinkled in the early light of dawn. She pointed her saber toward the enemy while offering her hoof to help her lieutenant to her hooves. “We can do this, Dawn. We can lead our ponies to victory. Just follow m-.”

The bullet that ended Star’s life grazed the top of Dawn’s helmet, hitting her ear before flinging the helmet behind her. The projectile came to a rest, its energy spent, in a patch of clay.

Dawn backpedaled as the young unicorn who had been supporting her collapsed lifelessly to the ground. She rubbed her face frantically on her forelegs, trying to remove the splatter of blood while ignoring the stream of her own that trickled down her neck.

Despite the sun rising over the horizon, the world around Dawn felt devoid of any light. It was a black abyss which tempted her to submit. She wanted to do nothing more than cry.

“Ma’am! Dawn, listen to me,” Big Mac shook the blue pony, but she pushed back against his strong hooves.

“S-she c-can’t, it’s not t-true,” Dawn sobbed. Her nightmares had become a reality.

“Dawn, please, listen t’ me,” Big Mac wrapped his arms around Dawn. “You got t’ accept it and move on. You got t' accept the truth. She’s gone and ain’t nothing you can do.”

“B-but, I can’t, she wasn’t supposed to die.”

“I know, but we ain’t got the time now. You’re still our leader. We need you.”

Dawn pushed herself free of Big Mac’s embrace. She breathed in and out rapidly, then sat down next to the motionless body of Star. She ran a hoof through the unicorn’s cream fur. Her hoof moved to the mare’s mane, a long stroke carrying it past her horn to close her eyelids. Dawn heaved silently before she turned her tear clogged eyes to look around her.

Her ponies looked at her. She could see the sadness in their eyes, but another emotion shined just beneath. It was a gaze of expectance, waiting for the spark that would turn it into resolve. A spark Lieutenant Dawn knew only she could provide. That much she knew to be true.

She came to her hooves, drawing her saber. “I don’t have to tell you what to do,” Dawn spoke across her company as the ponies fixed their bayonets and leveled them towards the pirates. “Ditty, sound the charge.”

The sun was firmly above the horizon, bathing the ponies, as they charged to the sound of the bugles, in the bright, warm light of dawn.

Chapter 15

The sand gave way to firmer clay halfway down the path towards the pirates’ position. Dawn’s company broke into a full gallop behind her as their hooves found the better footing. Only Applesnack and Big Mac paused briefly to retrieve the colors. Each grabbed the same flag they had carried back from Paardenburg, waving the blue and white silks to spur the ponies around them forward.

The third salvo from the artillery screeched overhead. The shells exploded 200 lengths in front of the ponies, white smoke puffing upwards. Increased fire from the zebras accompanied the smokescreen. Most of the bullets whizzed harmlessly overhead or splashed into the tanks on either side. A few managed to bury themselves in the clay being churned by the ponies’ hooves, but they did not notice.

Dawn pushed her nose through into the murk, jumping down to land in the trench. A pirate raised her rifle to club the unwelcome pony. As Dawn saw the pirate and spun her saber around to parry, it struck her that she had never seen a pirate before. She noted the simple black frock the zebra wore but soon regretted putting her attention on the pirate’s clothes as she misplaced her parry. The weight of the rifle glanced off her blade, sending reverberations to ring through her teeth. A split-second later the stock bounced off her helmet. She stumbled backwards, trying to regain her grip on her saber.

The pirate lifted the rifle for another blow. Dawn took her saber in her hooves to meet the new threat. She pulled the blade to the side, ready to slice the zebra as she charged. A bayonet poked through the pirate before Dawn could swing at the now collapsed zebra.

“The point always beats the edge, ma’am.” Applesnack yanked his bayonet free before roaring at another pirate.

An exotic phrase screamed behind Dawn. She spun around, just missing the edge of a sword that darted past her nose. The zebra wielding the weapon was different than the others, carrying about him an air of confidence that was accentuated by the black mask he wore and the black piping decorating his frock. Dawn realized he must be some sort of officer as she ducked his follow-up slice. The blade nicked the top of her helmet, but Dawn recovered quickly. She swung her saber to slice at the pirate’s left side. A sharp clank rewarded Dawn as the blow was blocked.

The pirate took the offensive, forcing Dawn to backpedal as she clumsily parried a series of slashes. The pirate lunged forward, the force of his blade against Dawn’s pushing her into the floor of the trench. Dawn squirmed on her back to recover, her exposed stomach twisting in anticipation of the pirate’s steel. But he hesitated a moment to long, giving Dawn enough time to spring a kick. Her hooves landed squarely on the zebra’s jaw. He staggered back, hoof held to his mouth as he spat out a mess of blood and teeth. Dawn lept up and plunged her point into the pirate before he could bring his sword around to parry.

The death of the pirate officer sapped the fight out of the remaining zebras. They jumped out of the trench as more khaki-clad ponies filled it with their steel. Behind Dawn’s company the remnants of A Company had reformed and were surging forward to join the line. B and D Company were behind them, the mass of khaki kicking up clumps of sand and clay as they trotted forward.

“Ditty!” Dawn shouted as she felt the adrenaline of the charge cool down, allowing her to assess the battle and think about her next orders.

“Right here, ma’am,” the unicorn spoke right beside Dawn, “been with you the whole time. One pace to the rear and left.”

“Really?” Dawn admired Ditty’s sprightliness as the unicorn grinned and nodded. “You could have said something to warn me about that pirate that wanted to skewer me.”

“I did, but you probably couldn’t hear me over your screaming,” Ditty said, “so I just used some magic to push the blade away.”

“I was screaming?”

“Ayep,” Big Mac jumped down beside the two mares. “’tween you an’ Applesnack I don’t know who’s the scariest to be honest.”

“It’s obviously me,” Applesnack said as he cleaned his bayonet on the grass along the top of the trench.

“Stop kidding yourself. You obviously have nothing against the lieutenant here,” Crag said, folding his wings as his arrival completed the group. “In terms of a war face that is, lieutenant. You still need some work on your technique, ma’am, but we’ll get you there. And Ditty, you don’t have to follow the regs so closely – maybe give the lieutenant some space until she improves, eh?”

“Uh, thanks,” Dawn blushed at the compliment, but the darker implication of the old pegasus’s warning brought a bitter feeling back into her throat. She let it linger for a moment before pushing it to another corner of her mind. It was a conversation she needed to have later, but not now.

“Right,” Dawn said, “all in good time.” She propped her telescope against the wall of the trench, training the lens to follow the retreating pirates. The black frocked zebras scampered up a trail, which was obscured by low bush and beach grasses, towards a wooden redoubt that sat on a spur branching out from the main fort. She collapsed the telescope and returned it to her saddlebag as Major Bolt and the other company officers jumped in the trench beside her.

“That was close,” Bolt panted. “Good work, but now we need to get inside the fort. Spitfire says the fire is still too intense for the Wonderbolts to fly in – we’ll have to take control of the parapets.”

“What about an airburst volley of smoke on the walls? That’d give them some cover, sir.”

“I forgot you used to be a red-cuffer. I’ll pass the message back, but we still need to get into that fort. Any ideas?” Bolt scribbled a note on a piece of paper and handed it to one of his pegasi aides. The company officers peered over the trench towards the fort before bringing their heads back down with mouths drawn in bemused expressions.

Seeing as no other pony had anything, Dawn spoke up. “There’s this redoubt on the side here that every zebra is running to. I bet you that might be our way in.”

Bolt looked towards the redoubt with his telescope, studying the terrain while he stroked his chin. His and Dawn’s ears perked at the sound of renewed musketry coming from the far side of the fort. “It looks like our only option. I believe that over there is from the dragoons getting pinned down. Here’s what we’ll do.” Bolt grabbed his saber in his mouth and started scratching lines in the clay with the blade.

“The redoubt is here,” Bolt drew a square and several curved lines, “and the terrain looks to fall sharply on these far sides but seems smoother here on the right side and on the back.” Several arrows appeared in the dirt as Bolt continued. “A Company will move to far side to link up with the dragoons and draw the enemy’s attention. Meanwhile, C Company will move to this smooth side and provide fire suppression while B and D Company form up behind. Once the dragoons are ready, we’ll storm the redoubt from both sides then push into the main fort. Any questions?”

“No, sir,” was the unanimous response. The officers trotted off to return to their commands. Dawn studied the ground in front of her once more, trying to ascertain the path the zebras had taken. She gave up after swinging the image in her lens back and forth several times.

“Sprint, Polish, Belle, get over here!” Dawn shouted. Sprint landed next to her first, with her brother following close behind. “Where’s Belle? Cornet Belle!”

“She’s not here, ma’am,” Sprint said.

Dawn’s stomach dropped a few inches in her barrel. “She wasn’t hit, was she?”

“No, ma’am. She stayed behind to look after the … err…body of Co-”

“Cornet Star, ma’am,” Polish finished his sister’s sentence.

Dawn winced at the name, but that feeling was quickly replaced by another that was directed towards the silver unicorn who had caused her so much strife. But now was not the time. Dawn vented her frustration with a single word. “Damn.”

“Well, she has been a bit shaken up since the ambush and the two of them were close,” Sprint mumbled.

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” Dawn huffed. “She can do whatever she wants. Sprint, you’ve got 3rd and 4th platoon. Take Private Crag with you and find a path for us to get on the flank of the redoubt. Set up in extended order and keep their heads down. Polish, you’ll take 1st and 2nd platoon and follow Sprint. There’s a good slope so we can get a second line firing behind Sprint’s.”

The cornets wasted no time carrying out the lieutenant’s orders. Crag flew beside Sprint as the two pegasi wound their way up the slope. Lines of khaki followed, the ponies stretching their necks forward to balance themselves in their climb.

“How come you don’t have any special assignments for me, ma’am?” Applesnack grumbled, obviously jealous of his partner.

“You have your own talents, private. Besides, I need you to give me your pointers – and give your point to any pirate trying to slice me up,” Dawn said. She pulled herself up the wall of the trench as Polish led the other two platoons behind Sprint’s force.

“With pleasure, ma’am,” Applesnack smirked as he followed Dawn.

“I don’t doubt it,” Dawn said before the need to breathe on the climb silenced her.

The path, although steep, was well-worn and provided good footing. Most of the ponies were out of breath by the time they reached the top of the slope. The ground leveled out into a slight dip before the wood-and-clay walls of the redoubt. The wall on this side was longer than the other three and subsequently had greater firepower available to protect its approach. Dawn was glad she was using rifles instead of bayonets.

“Five rounds, independent, FIRE!” Sprint’s platoons finished their deployment on the lower side of the slope and opened fire towards the pirates who offered sporadic return fire that mostly shot high.

Dawn trained her telescope to watch the movement of A Company as more of her ponies filed past into the second line. The dragoons seemed to have gotten the message, the dark blue formations dashing over the terrain to form up behind A Company’s extended firing line.

“Goddess-damn!” Dawn swore as a bullet glanced off the metal tube of her telescope. The lens shattered and the bent instrument fell from her hooves. A surge of indignation filling her, Dawn turned her head to Ditty and nodded. “Let’s give it to them, C Company! At my command, magazine, independent, FIRE!”

Above the roar of C Company’s rifles, a faint bugle and more pops of musketry sounded from the other side of the redoubt as A Company opened fire. Shells whistled overhead on their high, arcing trajectory and burst in the air above the redoubt’s spur. The cloud of smoke billowed outwards, the cue spurring a cheer from the ponies of B and D Company as they surged past Dawn’s lines.

“Cease fire! At the trot, FORWARD!” Dawn ordered her company to follow the rest of the battalion. On the other side, the dark blue coats of the dragoons cut through the smoke inside the redoubt, sabers flashing as they hacked through the pirates’ defense. More and more khaki hopped over the walls to mix with the blue and black uniforms.

All the zebras in black, though, were either on the ground or retreating as Dawn’s company jumped inside the redoubt. She trotted to where Major Bolt and Noctilucent were standing in front of the small tunnel that the pirates had fled into.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Bolt said. “And it looks like we found our way in.”

Dawn peered into the dank interior, a shiver running through her back.

“Uh, I think we’ll fly in with the Wonderbolts,” Noctilucent said, her eyes drifting to the sky where the sleek flight suits of the pegasi dashed between gaps in the smokescreen.

“Oh no, I agree,” Bolt said. “Best not for all of us to get trapped down there. Personally, though, I think this route will take us to the hostages faster than either your or Spitfire’s pegasi.”

“Are you suggesting a race?”

“Maybe,” Bolt chuckled with his counterpart. “Seriously, though, the quicker we get our ponies out of harms way the better. We’ll take this route. See you on the other side, major.”

The tunnel itself had proven free of surprises, being only a hastily excavated pathway big enough to fit two or three ponies across. The presence of a few old roots that wrapped around the walls and evidence of washing suggested that the tunnel had been dug long ago, likely by who ever had last laid siege to the fort.

Dawn blinked as light blinded her from the exit of the tunnel, which led into the open grounds behind Fort Pasterndt’s walls. Her eyes readjusted just in time to see the line of pirates bringing their rifles up. She and the leading ponies hit the dirt as bullets whizzed overhead and slammed into the walls behind them. Shards of clay and wood fell down next to the prone ponies. They hastened to bring their rifles into the ready position.

“Magazine, independent, FIRE!” Bolt roared from inside the tunnel. Dawn echoed the order.

More and more ponies poured out of the tunnel, ducking low as they extended the firing line on either side and added their rifles to the steadily increasing crackle. A few pirates fell from the musketry, but the black line continued to hold and pin down the Equestrians.

“We can’t stay here, ma’am,” Big Mac said, trying to keep his massive frame as low to the ground as possible.

“I know that,” Dawn replied. She looked around, her eye following the line of black frocks until it came to the edge of a tall clay structure. The building held the flank of the pirates, but also connected with the outer wall and the smaller buildings that lined the grounds. Its domed towers rose high, offering clear views of the fort. Behind Dawn, steel clashed on the walls, indicating the progress of the dragoons. On the far wall, the blue uniforms of the Wonderbolts dived onto the zebras. Renewed musketry from windows in the buildings forced the Wonderbolts back, pinning them to the cover of the parapet.

“We’ll move to that building over there,” Dawn pointed at the looming structure.

Big Mac turned his head to follow the hoof. “Ayep, that’ll do.”

“Let’s go,” Dawn pushed herself up, taking a deep breath. “C Company, sprint to the building. Take position when you arrive. At the gallop, MOVE!”

Seeing Dawn’s ponies get up and gallop off, the rest of the battalion kept up the intensity of fire by working their bolts with furious energy. The increased volume caught the pirates’ line off guard, buying Dawn just the time she needed. She slammed her body against the wall, working to control the heavy breaths in her chest that strained against her saber belt.

The line of zebras shifted to counter the maneuver. Black frocks rounded the corner of the building, rapidly rendering the cover unusable.

“Sprint, get your platoons in line!”

“Fall-in on me,” Sprint roared, a khaki line forming on either side of her as ponies shuffled into place and loaded more rounds into their rifles. “Five rounds, volley, FIRE!”

“Ma’am, I’ve found a way in,” Crag shouted into Dawn’s ear over the crash of the volleys.

“Great. Polish, bring your platoons with us!” Dawn followed Crag to a small wooden door near the middle of the building. Ponies lined either side of the archway, bayonets held at the ready.

“Allow me to do the honors?” Applesnack said. Dawn nodded as the stallion balanced on his forehand and extended his hindlegs in a powerful buck. The door flew off its hinges, clattering several lengths away to echo throughout a large hall that expanded beyond the doorway.

Pirates opened fire from the dim interior, hiding behind piles of barrels and thick wooden columns. Dawn rushed in, dispatching a zebra that lunged at her side with a quick slice of her saber. More ponies rushed in through the door behind her, taking cover behind the columns. Dawn pressed her back to one as bullets flung chips of wood around her.

Applesnack and Crag kneeled next to the lieutenant, taking aim at the pirates that lined the balcony on the far wall of the hall. Polish took cover behind an ornate fountain and started directing the fire of the Equestrians, his voice ringing above the deafening clamor with the help of his magic.

Dawn peered from behind her column. A bullet struck her in the shoulder. She spun back, crashing hard onto the stone floor.

“Fuck,” she cursed, clutching the wound as blood soaked her sleeve. Ditty was beside her in a moment, pulling out bandages from her saddlebag. Big Mac dropped his rifle to prop Dawn up as Ditty wrapped the bandages around her leg.

“Nightmare Moon!” Dawn squealed more blasphemies as Ditty tightened the bandage.

“You’re alright, ma’am, I just have to keep pressure on it,” Ditty said, her voice remarkably calm. She whistled a tune as she worked.

Seeing the lieutenant down, Polish sprinted through the row of columns to check on his commander. “You alright, ma’am?”

Dawn answered with another whimper. She gritted her teeth as Ditty pulled even harder on the bandage, shooting spikes of burning pain throughout the leg. Dawn leaned her head back. Her eyes landed on a staircase, barely visible in the low light, at the corner of the hall. She smiled despite the pain, which quickly faded as she accepted a potion from Ditty. She addressed Polish once the medication was down her throat.

“Perfectly fine. Polish, keep a platoon down here and keep up fire on those zebras. I’ll take the other platoon and start clearing upstairs.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Polish dashed back to his position behind the fountain. Dawn recovered her saber, wincing as she put weight on her leg.

“Ma’am, maybe you should stay down here,” Big Mac said, posturing himself to catch Dawn as she wobbled on her leg.

“No, I can still lead. Let’s go. 1st platoon, on me!” Dawn led the way to the stairs, her leg feeling better as she climbed up to the balcony.

Reaching the top, she tried to duck as a pirate swung his cutlass. Her eyes instinctively closed as she flinched at the blurred steel about to slice her nose off. She opened her eyes when the blow didn’t land. The blade quivered inches in front of her nose, held in Ditty’s telekinesis. The unicorn flung the blade over the railing, kicked the zebra, and hopped beside Dawn all in one fluid motion.

Two cracks rang beside Dawn as Crag and Applesnack dispatched a pair of pirates taking aim at the lieutenant. More shots rang out on the upper level as khaki-clad ponies filed past and lined the railing, their bullets flying to the pirates on the balcony opposite them. Dawn motioned for half of the ponies to take positions in the open windows, their rifles raining down on the line of pirates that were being pushed back by the full weight of the battalion

Dawn leaned against the archway of one window, taking a bit of weight off her bad leg. The dragoons had nearly cleared the walls and were pushing into the buildings. The Wonderbolts had disappeared from their corner of the fort and were likely already in the buildings as well. From her vantage point, Dawn could see the Phoenix and Berrichonhead moving through the water at full sail. Puffs of smoke erupted from their hulls as they dueled with the recently arrived pirate ship.

Dawn caught the attention of Major Bolt below and offered a salute to him before turning her attention back inside. The balconies converged at the back of the hall with an open archway leading further into the building. Several pirates were falling back there. Dawn raced to cut them off, switching leads halfway through her canter after a few darts of pain drew a muffled groan from her.

Crag, using his wings, flew ahead and reached the door before any pony else. A pirate lifted her rifle at the pegasus. He gave his wings a solid flap and twisted around the zebra, who reared onto her hind legs to react with the butt of her rifle. She lifted the weapon over her head. Crag’s hooves struck her in the stomach, causing her to bowl over the railing. He followed, loading another round into his rifle as he hovered in the open space away from the melee.

Two more zebras ran to support their mate, one of them a mare wearing the full black mask of an officer. Applesnack charged forward with his bayonet at the group. Steel clashed as the officer side-stepped and parried with her cutlass. The second pirate stuck his hoof out, causing Applesnack to stumble as he overshot the pair. The officer kept her footwork well placed as she gracefully turned her body to follow up with a vertical slice on the downed pony. She checked her swing as bits of the floor fractured from a bullet from Crag. He steadied his aim as the second pirate reacted by bringing his rifle up, then fired before the pirate could get off a shot.

The officer scowled and shouted an exotic curse to Applesnack, who recovered and lunged forward with his bayonet. She flung her blade down, catching the wooden stock of the rifle. She pulled back to remove the blade from the grip of the wood. Applesnack used the moment’s hesitation to kick the zebra free of his weapon. She stumbled back, barely blocking another stab by Applesnack. The green stallion roared, rearing to put his full weight into an overhead jab on the zebra. She was quick to dodge, only catching a glancing blow from the bayonet. She gasped as a gash reddened her hip, but she bore through it with a grimace. Her cutlass sped towards the recovering Applesnack. The blade stopped mid-swing, the zebra collapsing as smoke from Crag’s rifle muzzle dissipated.

“She was mine,” Applesnack said. He directed a disappointed scowl at the pegasus as Big Mac arrived and helped him to his hooves.

“You were taking too long,” Crag grinned back. “Except for you, ma’am, take as much time as you need,” Crag said as Dawn finally hobbled to rejoin the ponies.

“I’m fine. Come on,” Dawn said, rolling her eyes. She directed ten ponies to hold off the remaining zebras on the balcony while the rest followed her into the hallways. The sounds of the firefight became muffled and distant as Dawn’s ponies trotted. Only the clopping of hooves echoed against the walls.

Dawn kept her ears perked forward, warry of any pirates hiding around a corner or one of the many open rooms on either side of the hallway. A high-pitched sound, like that of a mare yelping, spooked Dawn from one of the rooms. She side-stepped at the noise then held her hoof up to halt the ponies. Keeping her saber at the ready, she edged to the doorway of the room and peeked her head in, only to let her mouth hang open as she stared.

“Who the hay are you?” said the mare Dawn was staring at, an attractive purple unicorn. A blue Equestrian Merchant Marines shirt, which had been tattered beyond practical wear, clung to her body. She lay on what had one been a lavish four-poster bed amid other decayed furnishings. Her legs were bound, but her mouth was still free to quip. “Well, you going to introduce yourself like a proper gentle mare or just gawk at me like the others?”

Dawn snapped out of her haze and replied, “Um, Lieutenant Dawn Glean, 2nd Battalion, North Equus Regiment of Hoof. We’re here to rescue you.”

“Name’s Captain Tulips of the La Mare. Damn, it’s about time you showed up, although I was kind of expecting a dashing pegasus in Wonderbolts Blue.” Captain Tulips sighed then offered a suggestive smile as her eyes sized up the blue earth pony in front of her. “I guess you’ll have to do.”

Dawn seriously reconsidered freeing the mare. She compromised by slicing aggressively through the ropes binding her legs together. Captain Tulips rubbed the marks on her hooves, then stretched them out, leaning her head on one while resting the other on her hip.

“Thanks for that, lieutenant.” The emphasis Captain Tulips put on her title robbed Dawn of a breath. “That’s a handy saber there; I’d say you’re pretty well hung. So’s your sergeant there.” The mare fluttered her eyelashes.

Dawn blushed, hard. She could feel even more heat radiating off Big Mac behind her. She burned even harder when she realized she was sub-consciously raising her tail.

“Nightmare Moon,” Applesnack swore upon seeing more of his lieutenant than he thought he ever would, spurring a hearty chuckle from Captain Tulips.

“Enough playing around,” Dawn said, quickly pressing her tail back to her body. She felt more pain from her wounded modesty than the bullet in her leg. “Captain, do you know where the rest of your crew is being held?”

“Damn, lieutenant, I was just trying to have some fun. Unfortunately, I don’t know where they are. I’ve been kept apart up here the whole time, and I’ve got to say, I hoped the pirates would be more attractive, but I guess zebras aren’t my type.” Captain Tulips sat up on the bed, her smirk vanishing. “There was one pony who visited me. Asked me all sorts of questions, mostly on how to work a tele-fire machine.”

Dawn’s ears perked up. “Did you get a good description of this pony? Any others working with him?”

“What’s with ponies asking me questions? All the zebras did was hit me; I kind of enjoyed that.”

“Holy Celestia!” Applesnack blurted, an uncharacteristic giggle following the outburst.

Dawn turned to investigate. She caught Big Mac looking much redder than usual. “Um, you okay there, sergeant?”

“Ayep,” Big Mac gulped and nodded violently to affirm his response.

Dawn rolled her eyes then looked back at the captain. “As I was saying, any information you can give us will help us figure out what the pirates are up to and put a stop to it.”

Captain Tulips snorted. “Any pony can figure that out. Gems. Money. Greed. Everyone’s looking for something, lieutenant; I’ve been on the seas too long to not accept that.” The mare scowled. “But I did overhear a conversation between that pony and some other zebra. Something about a pony, or zebra, working inside the military; not sure which species, they weren’t exactly speaking Ponish.”

Dawn’s mind calculated several probable theories of who that pony, or zebra, might be. Was it the same pony working with the Boerperds? Could that pony actually be a zebra seeking to sabotage Equestria as revenge for some wrong? Dawn found herself with more questions than answers. Questions that would have to wait as a renewed roar of musketry sounded outside the room’s window with more crackling coming from down the hallway.

Dawn shifted her eyes and one ear towards the sound. “Applesnack, Crag, escort Captain Tulips until we get her back to safety. We’ve still got a battle to win.”

“Pirates on the left!” Big Mac shouted as he and Dawn ran into another hallway. A score of pirates rounded the corner at the far end, their eyes whitening with momentary surprise at the appearance of the Equestrians. The expression turned to fear as they saw the double line of khaki ponies form a solid wall of bristling rifles next to the blue lieutenant and her red sergeant.

“FIRE!” The zebras defense disintegrated as the volley crashed down the hall. Dawn charged through the smoke before it cleared, her saber clamped firmly as she led her ponies to pursue.

Rounding a corner, she came to an open balcony that overlooked a central courtyard. Several crumbled fountains and statues littered the space, while stone paths cut through plots of overgrown bush, suggesting this courtyard had once been an ornate garden. Now, however, it seemed to be abandoned save for Dawn’s ponies, which she directed to take positions along the railing, and the zebras retreating to the far edge of the courtyard.

Flashes of blue uniforms caught Dawn’s eye from the balcony opposite her. Pegasi from the Wonderbolts filtered out onto the railing, their heads directed to the sky. Several stepped back, wrapping their hooves around a group of disheveled ponies without uniforms. Dawn nudged an elbow into Captain Tulips.

“Looks like your crew’s going to get the Wonderbolts rescue, captain.”

The mare nearly knocked Dawn off her hooves with the bump she delivered with her rump in reply. “Eh, I’ve gotten over that; you’re starting to grow on me more than them, lieutenant, if you know what I mean.”

Dawn knew exactly what she meant but pushed it deep into the recesses of her mind and simply blinked hard before focusing on the Wonderbolts. Two had already secured their passengers and were preparing their wings for flight. Then Dawn saw movement in the shadow beneath the balcony.

“Fuck,” Dawn swore as she watched scores of pirates emerge and take positions around the courtyard.

“Lieutenant, my, you are forwa-,” Dawn placed her hoof over Tulip’s mouth before she could finish and shoved her back into the arms of Crag and Applesnack. She waved frantically to get the attention of the pegasi. The captain, a teal mare with a white mane, smiled and waved back before giving a hoof’s up signal to her pegasi. The two took off with hefty flaps of their wings, climbing slowly off the balcony and into the sky above the courtyard. Dawn screamed as a flurry of shots from below echoed in her ears.

The lead Wonderbolt was hit first, the bullet killing him instantly. He dropped the pony he was carrying, her body flailing through the air before landing in a growth of bushes with a solid crunch. The second Wonderbolt was hit a moment later through her wing. She stalled and entered a spin towards the courtyard before releasing her pony passenger to try and recover. Two more bullets found her, and she crumbled towards the ground.

An aura of magic from Tulips and Ditty managed to catch the falling hostage. The two unicorns strained against their horns, bringing the pony down next to them as the firefight in the courtyard erupted.

“Make ready, FIRE!” Dawn ordered the volley into the courtyard. The zebras shifted their focus to her ponies. Dawn hoped it would be enough to allow the Wonderbolts to withdraw. She also hoped they would take the hint.

A bugle sounded below Dawn, the order to fall-in followed closely by the order to fire. Cornet Polish’s voice sounded over the din, encouraging his ponies in a line spread across the courtyard. The unicorn gave an eye towards Dawn then flashed his saber forward to direct more volleys.

“FIRE!” Dawn yelled again. She undid her canteen and took a sip of the few drops that remained to wet her hoarse throat before ordering another volley. She smirked as she saw the zebras, overwhelmed by the firepower, start to pull back, thus removing their rifles from the courtyard. Polish’s ponies pursued, the line advancing around the stonework and bush until it dispersed into the building.

Seeing the clearing, the Wonderbolts captain resumed her orders. A pair of Wonderbolts retrieved the downed ponies while another grabbed their fallen. The Wonderbolts captain gave Dawn a salute with her wing before taking off with the others. Dawn returned it with her saber.

Outside the courtyard the notes of several bugles carried over the musketry, the slow rising phrases signaling the call for retreat. Dawn nodded to Ditty to echo the order. Their job here was done.

Dawn leaned against the railing on the deck of the Phoenix, her bad leg throbbing faintly as it rested softly on the metal. The air was still except for a small breeze that rustled against her mane and blew stay strands of hair into her eyes. The frigate plowed stoically through the water, her guns having fallen silent an hour ago. In the orange, darkening sky behind the frigate, two columns of smoke rose from piles of smoldering rubble that had once been Forts Pasterndt and Coroneghtbandt. In some ways, Dawn considered the silence after a battle to be the hardest to bear, for while the battle around her was over, the one inside her was raging, and its noise was deafening.

She thought first about the past, looking at the reflections of sunset off the bow where the last edges of the sun sank below the Celestia Sea, its light shimmering on wavetops and glowing orange along the edges of lavender clouds. She sighed. It seemed that with every sunrise, a new problem arose, a new challenge that she needed to solve. And with every sunset, while the problem may have been resolved and the challenge overcome, a price had been paid.

It was a price that she knew but did not understand. It was a price that thousands of miles across the sea, in sleepy towns and pastoral valleys, some ponies would have to acknowledge while others simply carried on in blissful ignorance.

A sigh lingered on Dawn’s breath while a bit of wetness grew on her cheek. She knew the names of that price, for she had written them in her report, updated their records in the company ledger, and drafted letters to their family. But she knew the ponies, too.

Dawn lifted her head, staring up into the sky where the first stars were coming out. Their light twinkled, dimly at first, but growing in brilliance as the sun faded away. Dawn wondered if, perhaps, there was a new star in the sky tonight. She longed, more than ever, for that star to shine brighter than the rest, to guide her like she had promised.

A leather bound notebook rested in Dawn’s hooves, the little ribbon marking a place in the book that had trapped Dawn’s heart. It was the last entry Star had written. And it had ended with a poem, “The Pony of Life Upright.”

Three times she had read through the verses, and three times she felt the weight of them carry her heart while her mind struggled to understand. The poem conjured up a memory she had repressed but now chose to reflect on. Princess Luna had also known of this very poem and used it to indicate the path she was to take. Somehow, Dawn felt that there must be a reason why two of the ponies who wanted to help her referred so fondly to the words of the poet. Who was this pony of life upright?

“What are you doing with that?” Belle’s words spat across the deck despite the relative softness of the approaching voice uttering them.

Dawn flinched, her eyes falling on the notebook just as Belle’s did. She wiped her face with her hoof and answered in a voice barely audible over the sails flapping overhead. “I was just gathering Cornet Star’s personal effects.”

“Give it here. You don’t deserve it,” Belle said, her eyes narrowing. “With all due respect, ma’am.”

A spurt of blood coursed through Dawn’s face. She flattened her ears, then thought better of her next words and assumed a more docile expression. “What’s wrong, Belle?”

The unicorn hesitated but continued with her ears tucked firmly against her head. “You.”

“What?” The blow hurt. Dawn felt another round of tears welling up in her eyelids but kept composure. She had no desire to keep fighting, but she also wasn’t going to give up either.

“She died because of you, you know.” Belle’s pupils burned with reflections of starlight.

“She died trying to help me.” The image of Star holding her hoof towards her flashed into Dawn’s mind.

“You didn’t deserve her help, just like you don’t deserve that book.”

Dawn sighed, glancing down at the notebook. “You’re right, Belle, perhaps I don’t deserve it. But neither do you. None of us deserved a pony like Star. She was a stellar officer with potential. And she was a good friend.”

“She was too much of a friend to you. I told her to stay away from you, told her that you were dangerous, you and all the other earth ponies that don’t understand the path you’re leading us down. Frankly, Equestria would be better off if we stayed true to the magical principles that have always guided us.”

Dawn thought about the unicorn’s words carefully. She knew there was some truth to her words, a truth, as she had come to learn, that had always been present. But she had also learned that there was more to that truth, more that mattered to her, and, as she had gleaned from the notebook, more that mattered to Star. Her mind was made up; she needed to be her own pony, free to find the truth for herself. With a placid expression, she looked Belle in the eyes and simply said, “Frankly, Belle, I don’t give a damn. Dismissed.”

Belle stammered, her mouth trying to form a counterattack, but a glance from Dawn put an end to that. The unicorn snapped to attention then stormed off. Dawn’s eyes followed her before tears blurred the unicorn into a blue and silver smudge. She sighed then wiped her eyes dry to look once more into the starry night sky. She remembered the past and mulled over the present. But most importantly, she considered the future and where she was going next as the words of the poem sang through her and upwards to the stars. Perhaps they knew of that pony whose silent days in harmless joys are spent, whom hopes cannot delude, nor sorrows discontent. A star twinkled just beyond the edge of the moon’s glow. Dawn smiled. Perhaps, just maybe, they did.

Chapter 16

A steady stream of sweat soaked Dawn’s forelock before dripping down into her eyes. She blinked one eye at a time to clear them, but the effort did little to alleviate the stinging. She wanted desperately to bring a hoof up to rub all the salty residue off of her face, as she imagined the other thousand ponies around her did. But such a wish was hopeless while the ponies remained locked at the formal position of parade rest.

The ponies had already been in formation for an hour, melting away on the grassy Canterlot parade ground as they awaited the review of the princesses. As much as Dawn enjoyed the return of the familiar itch of her red tunic, it was an itch nonetheless, one made almost unbearable by the humid air that boiled upward from the recently saturated ground. Dawn prayed silently that the pegasi would move one of the thunderheads she could see in her peripheral vision to cover the sun whose rays fueled little wisps of steam that rose of the ponies’ backs. The Dragoon Guards, with their dark blue tunics and heavy helmets, had it the worst, but they would also be the first to be dismissed. The Wonderbolts had it best since, per Royal Air Service tradition, their review was being conducted on cool, soft clouds which floated overhead.

Dawn, figuring that it would be a while longer before anything happened, closed her eyes again and locked her knees in an attempt to ease the dull throbbing that bade her to sleep. Despite the opportunity provided by days of travel on ship and train, and even a day in Port Zebae while the ships bunkered coal, sleep eluded her. Paperwork kept her busy, and a few card games with her friends had been a decent distraction but only just so. She accepted them only to deny herself entry into the land of dreams, not that she feared another nightmare, but because she wanted to be ready before she confronted what she knew was waiting there.

“Look lively there, ma’am, they’re ‘bout to start,” Big Mac whispered into the lieutenant’s ear.

Dawn, realizing that her head had drooped, snapped it back upright and opened her eyes. At the front of the parade ground she caught a glimpse of white and blue ponies flying towards them, while much closer Major Bolt strutted into the center. His chest expanded. “Battalion!”

“Company!” Dawn turned her head to the side and echoed the command.

“Atten-SHUN!”

Dawn felt a collective sign of relief as a thousand sets of hooves clacked together, blood once more returning to the stiff limbs of the battalion. On the right, Major Noctilucent commanded her regiment to attention while leading a small detachment to meet the princesses. With a graceful flap of their wings, the alicorns softly touched down.

“Present!” Bolt commanded as soon as he saw a royal hoof contact a blade of grass.

“Present!” Dawn echoed.

“ARMS!”

Dawn brought her saber to her nose in a salute as the rest of the battalion did the same in one, unified motion. A small band played several ruffles and flourishes followed by the national anthem, the lively music carrying across the stifling field. The colors lay limply in the center of the battalion, although the arrival of the princesses seemed to create a small breeze the rustled the heavy silks momentarily.

Princess Celestia, as best Dawn could tell while keeping her eyes caged, seemed to smile as she returned a clumsy salute. Princess Luna, though, kept her face composed and rendered a snappy salute before stepping forward to assume a position in front of the formation. Celestia, noticing the cue a moment too late, followed slightly behind her sister but otherwise in step.

“Order, ARMS!” Bolt did an about face and commanded once more, “officers…” Dawn and the rest of the company officers took six paces forward as the bugles played the accompanying rhythmic call. “Center…” They pivoted to face the center. “MARCH!” The officers came together in a tight line, then with a wink from Dawn for timing, pivoted again to face front. A swish of a tail from the right most officer started the line forward until it halted six paces from Major Bolt, who promptly performed an about face. A moment later the officers from the Dragoon Guards and the captain from the wing battery landed into formation next to the infantry.

Princess Celestia spread her wings and stepped forward, a formal smile adorning her features. “Soldiers,” she spoke in the Royal Canterlot Voice with a tone that was neither forced nor soft, “it is with great happiness that I welcome you back to Equestria and commend you on a successful expedition to protect and defend the little ponies that are so dear to us all. And w-while…” Celestia stumbled.

Luna picked up the speech seamlessly. “And while we are saddened to learn of those who have been called to make the ultimate sacrifice, we can assure you that their legacy will be remembered truly by us and by each of you that carry their memory forward.”

Celestia resumed her part. “By recommendation of my sister, I am awarding each of you a medal of commendation for your service to our nation and the continuance of harmony. Because of you, we are free to lead ourselves forward to a bright and prosperous future.”

The princesses walked down the line of officers, horns glowing as they took the medals from a felt-line case floating beside them and pinned them on the officers’ uniforms. Celestia smiled warmly, softly uttering the words, “By harmony, with this may you defend the magic of our friendship,” while Luna stuck the medal in between the woolen fibers.

Dawn stiffened as the princesses approached her. Her heart beat rapidly, partly from being in the presence of such powerful ponies, but mostly from the aura of intimacy that radiated from Luna as she remembered their previous encounters. Dawn tried her best to stay composed as every bit of her tried to squirm past the uniform and glean every bit of wisdom she longed to know from the princess of the night. Her eyes caught the medal as Luna pinned it on, a polished gemstone in the shape of shield mounted on an Equestrian blue ribbon, before drifting up into the princess’s teal eyes. Luna smile briefly and winked. She then sidestepped with her sister to the next officer. Dawn almost passed out.

A deep breath purged the blackness seeping at the edges of her vision just in time for her to hear the next commands from Major Bolt. “Officers, post! MARCH!” Dawn did a left face and marched a square path back to her position in front of C Company. Seeing the officers back in place, Bolt drew his saber and gave the order, “Make ready!” A thousand rifles came up together, bayonet tipped barrels pointing upward in the sky. “FIRE!”

The volley rang through the parade ground and echoed off the walls of surrounding Canterlot. The artillery on the right fired its own salute, adding a deep bass to the crackle while also reverberating through the ground. The gesture, while a powerful display of respect to the monarchy, seemed odd to Dawn as she had never heard of it being done before. But the princesses seemed to appreciate it, Luna most of all, for although her smile was smaller than Celestia’s, it carried with it a greater sense of pride that was rare for her to express.

As the last bit of sound from the salute died out, the princesses departed while the band broke into a march with a progression of dramatic chords that led into a driving melody. Dawn watched the majestic alicorns fly away and disappear into the clouds while she listened to the music. She recognized it as the march of the Royal Artillery by the second strain before the trio section. She felt a bit of pride stir in her as, with the “Voice of the Guns” blaring through the hot summer air, the parade was dismissed.

“Can I get you anything to drink, miss?” the bartender asked Dawn.

“No thanks, I’m not thirsty,” she replied. She leaned against the bench, the whole table to herself. The whole corner of the tavern to herself, in fact. The space was dimly lit, only a few candles on the tables and in ancient chandeliers hanging from exposed beams providing a flickering, amber light. Dawn slid the candle on her table a few inches to the right to keep melted wax from dripping onto Star’s leather notebook. She took a look at it, her mouth feeling suddenly dry. She motioned for the bartender to bring her a glass; perhaps she was thirsty after all.

Dawn set her bottle of scotch, now nearly empty, on the table next to the glass, but held off on pouring the last bit, choosing instead to look around the tavern. Ponies in red coats, her ponies, were scattered around the place. Most munched on baskets of fried apples and hay chips with mugs of fresh cider to wash the greasy food down. The ponies ate uproariously; it being their first real meal in two weeks, Dawn did not blame them.

The tavern’s band, which had previously consisted of a solo violinist, broke into a song with the addition of Ditty on flute and Crag strumming a guitar. The old pegasus sang as well, his voice carrying with it a rustic yet comforting timbre that let the words float across the tavern to Dawn’s ears. “The hours sad I left a mare, a lingering farewell taking…”

Dawn poured her glass, sipping the burning liquid down to where it warmed her bosom. She concluded after her second sip that the mare who had gifted the drink to her had been right. A sigh escaped her as she remembered Malt, that filly whose home now seemed so far away, a fact reinforced by Crag as he finished the first verse, “…and to my heart in anguish pressed, the filly I left behind me.”

Too many fillies had been left behind, never to return. But far more had returned, and here they were, laughing and singing in the tavern. Dawn allowed their mirth to join the warmth spreading outward from her bosom, a small bit of unfound gaiety that manifested itself in a small, yet true, smile across her muzzle.

In the middle of the tavern, red-coated ponies raised their mugs as Applesnack captivated them with exaggerated tales of his exploits. Big Mac sat next to him, neither confirming nor denying the stories, but simply looking on with the occasional rolling of his eyes. He took a sip of his cider along with the others then yanked the mug away from his lips with a pained grimace. He gave the cider a sniff, stuck out his tongue, then poured the rest of it into Applesnack’s mug as the green stallion was distracted by a reenactment of his fighting technique.

Dawn kept watch on her friends, chuckling at the jokes and singing along with the verses that filled her ears as she finished the rest of her drink. She did not notice the earth pony officer enter the tavern and take a seat next to her.

“They’re quite the mess, ain’t they?” Major Bolt said.

Dawn started then, recognizing her commander, replied, “Yes, sir. But they’re my mess; I don’t think I’d have it any other way.”

A roar of laughter and scraping wood accompanied a group of ponies, led by Applesnack, as they cleared several tables and stacked them in an effort to see who could touch their tail to the ceiling beams.

Bolt watched the scene and chuckled. “Nothing quite like the Equestrian soldier; a rowdy bunch of troublemakers, loners, and lost spirits. Yet put them in a red coat and give ‘em a good officer and they’ll fight like hell.”

Dawn nodded in agreeance as she watched the inevitable toppling of the tower of tables. A massive clatter accompanied the collapse, followed by hearty laughter from the ponies sprawled over the wreckage. “I’m glad to be here, sir,” Dawn admitted.

“And I’m glad to have you, too. Although I hate to be the one to take you away from here.”

“Sir?”

“You’ve been summoned to an audience with the Princesses.”

“Me, sir?”

“Yes. I just came from delivering the debrief and they specifically requested you,” Bolt affirmed.

“Very well,” Dawn said while pushing herself up from the table. She followed Bolt out of the tavern, pausing at the door to take one last look at her ponies, and her friends. They were lost in their happiness, raising their voices as the band started a new song. Dawn stepped out into the street, the music following her despite the bustle of Canterlot as she walked away.

Hark now the drums beat up o’er there,
For all true soldier gentle-mare,
Then let us list and march, I say,
Over the Hills and far away

Dawn tapped her hoof on the marble floor. The sound echoed deeply throughout the cavernous space, bouncing off walls adorned with stained glass mosaics. All of them portrayed scenes from Equestria’s long history: acts of heroism, bravery, and sacrifice, immortalized in colorful shards through which evening light shined to fall on fresh bushels of lavender that hung in the sconces between the windows. Above Dawn’s bench, the delicate flowers of lavender were tinged by six shades of color from the newest window: purple, pink, orange, blue, yellow, and white.

The doors cracked opened at the end of the hall. An air of laughter accompanied the six ponies who exited. Dawn continued looking down at her hooves, although her ears perked themselves towards the ponies.

“So where do you think we’ll go next, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked quietly.

“I’m sure wherever the princesses send us next will be just as rewarding as the last,” Twilight assured.

“I’ll tell you where we should go next,” Rainbow Dash said. “To get some food.”

“Rainbow Dash, darling, always thinking with your stomach. But I agree, I am positively famished myself,” Rarity chuckled to herself, then stopped as she saw the blue pegasus dash away. “Rainbow, dear, what are you-”

Dawn looked up from her hooves to see what Rarity was referring to, but she was too late. Rainbow Dash tackled her to the floor in a flurry of fur and mane. Dawn’s scabbard bounced on the floor as she tried to wrestle herself free.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight scolded. The pegasus looked towards her for a brief moment, allowing Dawn to gain the advantage and pin the pegasus to the ground. The two let go of each other with a friendly giggle.

“Just having a little fun,” Rainbow Dash defended herself to Twilight. “You girls remember Dawn, right?”

“Ayep,” Applejack said, a sly smirk on her face. “I gotta say, Dashie got you good, Dawn. You were lookin’ stiffer than a door nail and sadder than a lost sheep. What’s on yer mind, sugarcube?”

The candor of Applejack’s observation, as well as her familiarity, caught Dawn by surprise. She fumbled with her thoughts for a moment then replied, “Yes, there is something on my mind.” A frown crossed her face as the brief gaiety of seeing her friend fled from her, reminding her of the friend she would see no longer. “It’s not a story you want to hear, but I appreciate the thought.”

Pinkie Pie materialized next to Dawn, knocking her shako off the bench and placing on her head a party hat that that likewise materialized along with strands of confetti. “Why don’t you come eat with us? We’ll turn that frown upside down,” she said, a wide grin accompanying her hug that tightly squeezed around Dawn’s body.

“Pinkie!” Twilight grabbed the pink pony and pulled her away from the lieutenant. “I’m so sorry to bother you, Ms. Dawn.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Dawn said as she retrieved her shako and tightened the bow for her braids. “It’s good to see all of you. How did things go on the frontier?”

“Very well actually,” Twilight recounted. “Malt sends her regards.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Dawn said, returning the pleasantry. She shifted her eyes to the open door before returning them to Twilight. “How is she doing?”

“She is great, much better now that she has had a chance to rest. To say she was helpful to us would be an understatement.” Twilight followed Dawn’s eyes as they shifted again. “Do you need to be somewhere?”

“I have been requested by the princesses.”

Twilight’s eyes widened along with the beginning of a gasp. “I’m so sorry, please, you don’t want to be late to that. If you’ll excuse us.” Twilight offered an embarrassed smile then shuffled away. She rounded up her friends and walked down the hall. “Now then girls, where are we eating again? I could go for several hayburgers myself.”

Dawn watched them go, then straightened her uniform before approaching the door. Even though it was open, she came to attention and knocked once. A soft yet regal voice beckoned her to enter. Dawn marched straight down the carpet and halted in front of the princesses who were seated on dual thrones, flanked on either side by stained glass murals of the sun and moon.

Bowing, Dawn announced, “Your Majesties, Lieutenant Dawn Glean reports as ordered.” She held her bow as Luna and Celestia passed a glance at each other.

“Stand at ease, lieutenant,” Luna said. “What brings you here this evening, Dawn?”

“I came per your request, as Major Bolt informed me,” Dawn responded, still maintaining a stiff posture of formality. Celestia gave her sister another look with a tilted ear to accompany the expression.

Luna answered her sister with a nod and then, rising from her chair, addressed Dawn, “Of course. Come, walk with us.” Luna’s mane flowed behind her as she led Dawn, and her sister, outside onto the balcony where below them the buildings of Canterlot bathed lazily in warm ochre and cool blue shades of evening. Ponies walked in the streets, faint sounds of clattering hooves and chatting tongues drifting upwards to the balcony. Beyond the rooftops of Canterlot, a river glittered as it flowed through the valley, wrapping around the dark smudges of a town that was surrounded by a patchwork of fields and clusters of trees. Luna paused to look over the land, then with her hoof directed Dawn’s gaze to the town. “That over there is Ponyville. I have a special duty for you to do there.”

Dawn simply nodded her head in reply. Somehow, she already knew what the princess wanted her to do.

“You’ve been reading too much poetry again, sister,” Celestia chided Luna once Lieutenant Dawn had departed. Luna huffed in reply. The last hour’s discussion had mostly centered around poetry, but Luna considered it an hour well spent.

“The words of the poet can often be a reflection of her soul,” Luna said, “expressing what is unreachable by any other direct means. Do you know of something better, sister?”

Celestia smiled. “Of course! Actually getting out there and experiencing those things for yourself, with actual ponies.”

Luna thought for a moment but kept her expression the same as she continued her defense. “I do not doubt that what you say is true sister, but not everypony has the same opportunity to experience those things. Thus, poetry can be a way to reach them even in their darkest isolation. It did during mine.” Luna let her eyes wander toward the horizon.

Celestia watched, a frown drooping her elegant features. Gaining some resolve, she placed a hoof on her sister’s withers. The smile had returned by the time Luna’s head turned to look into her eyes. “Luna, my dear sister, you’re here now and that’s what matters. You know I love you. Us, together, guiding our little ponies, is all I could ever want.”

Luna smiled, actually showing teeth as her lips were drawn back in an expression that reflected all the love of her sister. But as Luna’s face reflected her sister’s joyful smile, it also reflected the slight wrinkle around her eye. Luna broke off, her composure returning to a serious state. “You’re worried, sister.”

Celestia sighed. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s just that I don’t want this to change,” she said, looking out at her kingdom that, as the sun dipped lower in the horizon, was preparing for another night of peaceful slumber safe in their beds.

Luna felt her sister’s longing as well as her fear. She gazed out towards the mountains where the storm clouds that had been growing all day billowed, cluttering the sky as they tried to block out the setting sun. “Trust me, sister, and trust in the ponies who have taken an oath to ensure that this never does change. We’ve already apprehended the zebra ensign in our navy, and the rest of the investigation should unravel what happened in a few weeks. Any word from Caesar Grevyi?”

“Yes. He was upset, which is understandable, but I’ve sent a letter assuring him that it was all a happy miscommunication.”

“Things could get worse. The pirates are still a potent threat, and I doubt the Caesar will allow a repeat of what happened. We need to be ready.”

“Yes, I know,” Celestia said, her horn glowing as she finished the setting of the sun. “But I don’t think our little ponies are ready to know about war. Let them sleep and dream tonight.”

Luna remained silent, her own horn raising the moon to follow the sun as the landscape transitioned from the fading orange of evening to the gray darkness of twilight to the pale blue of night. She did not disagree with her sister. But she also knew, deep down, that Celestia was clinging to a lie, a lie that one day would be exposed by a horrible truth. Luna prayed that day would never come.

The train pulled into the Ponyville station an hour before sunrise. The screech of the train’s brakes cut through the stillness of the early morning where not even the birds were awake yet. Dawn stepped out of her passenger car and onto the platform, the acrid scent of coal filling her nostrils, yet beyond it she could detect the faint aura of lavender, either from the fields next to the train station or a lingering remnant of her time in Canterlot. The air was somewhat dry, fresh even, seeming to promise a day’s respite from the summer storms, but to Dawn it still felt oppressive; she knew the storms would come anyways.

She tugged at her red tunic and, smoothing the plume, placed her shako squarely on her poll. On her back, her saddlebags were light, holding only a letter and a notebook, and yet, they were the heaviest things Dawn had ever carried. In her heart, she longed for peace, to answer that question that tugged so deeply at her.

Mulling over her conversation with Luna, she started to discover the answer as she set down the path that led from the station into Ponyville. A cricket chirped nearby, its steady rasps stirring the creatures that slept in the ferns and bushes, preparing them for the imminent arrival of dawn. A fox, his night of hunting over, crossed the path and returned to his den to sleep until he was needed again. Dawn passed by a field where a flock of sheep grazed, their heads stooped low to the ground as they munched through the soft, dew-speckled grass. A lamb, blinking the sleep out of its eyes and rising up from beside its mother, frolicked around the flock with an energy as young as the morning. It came up to the fence to where Dawn watched, baaing softly as if to say, join us. Dawn smiled pleasantly in return, but kept on walking, her burden driving her to continue to her destination.

A house near the center of town was where she stopped. It was a modest home, built in the same wood-and-stone frame style that characterized towns like Ponyville. A shrubbery lined the fence that surrounded the home, while fresh summer daisies grew in little patches beside the house. The mailbox had been painted recently, with four small stars adorning its side. A repeat of the family symbol was crafted in brass on the front door.

Dawn stiffened, taking a long, deep breath. This was her least favorite part of being an officer. But it had to be done. It was her duty. She straightened her uniform, then came to attention. Her eyes caged forward, she marched one step after another, halting a pace from the door. She knocked twice and waited for the response. Three ponies opened the door: a mother, a father, and a little brother. Dawn acknowledged them. “Mr. and Mrs. Star.” They nodded.

“Mr. and Mrs. Star, Their Majesties the Princesses of Equestria have put faith in me to inform you that your daughter, Cornet Gilt Star, was killed in action while leading Their Majesties’ forces at Fort Pasterndt. Her actions rallied our ponies and enabled the rescue of Equestrian citizens held hostage. Princess Celestia and Luna express their deepest sympathy, as do I, for you and your family.”

Dawn was expecting the worst, yet the family stood there, silent in their acceptance, silent as the tears formed then slowly rolled off their noses and splattered on the welcome mat at their hooves. Dawn had seen the horrible things of war, had felt the very real sting of the bullets, and had witnessed tragedy occur right before her. But this was the worst, this feeling the most real, and the loss of not just any pony, but of this mare named Star, the greatest tragedy.

As Dawn passed over the letter and left the home that was now broken, she realized just who Star had been, and who she was now. She was the pony of life upright. She was the mare whose silent days in harmless joys were spent, whom hopes cannot delude, nor sorrows discontent. She was the mare for whom good thoughts were her surest friends, her wealth a well-spent age, the earth her sober inn, and quiet pilgrimage.

Dawn passed the field of sheep on her way back to the train station. Seeing her, the lamb ambled over to the fence and again repeated its invitation. Except this time, she accepted and joined the lamb in the middle of the field. She sprawled on the grass, feeling its softness through the coarse fibers of her uniform, and allowing the dew to mix with the wetness of her tears. She smiled, and with that smile, cast away the burden so that she felt she could float with the clouds that were slowly turning orange on the horizon with rays of sunlight that peeked behind distant mountains painted in soft hues of lavender.

Another smile graced Dawn’s face, for she now realized what her cutie mark meant, and it filled her with peace. She looked to the horizon. The last star in the sky twinkled brightly before yielding to the approach of the sun, its burning light rising over the mountains to shine in the valley, a light there to lead Equestria into a new day, and through a new dawn.

Historical Note

The expedition Equestria mounted to rescue the seventeen hostages of the collier La Mare was a significant turning point in its history. A peaceful nation for thousands of years, the sheer size of Equestria and the principles of harmony upon which it was founded ensured a form of internal stability that was rarely challenged. When a challenge to the status quo did occur, it was generally internal and able to be solved on a small scale. The return of Nightmare Moon and subsequent coup, for instance, was a short-lived event and ended by a group of only six ponies: Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity – the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, brought together by the magic of friendship.

However, while the Elements and their bearers were growing in power during this time, another form of power was reshaping the pastoral valleys and sleepy villages of Equestria - industrialization. The advent of steam as a source of work that could be harnessed was revolutionary in how Equestrian society functioned, particularly among the working earth pony classes. Machines could now do work that previously relied on the backs of earth ponies, freeing them to leave the farms and seek new opportunities in rapidly growing cities such as Manehattan and Fillydelphia. Suburbs, like the fashionable Fetlock, sprang up to accommodate the influx of ponies that took jobs alongside unicorns and pegasi as leaders in technological innovation. To get there, ponies took one of the many locomotives that traveled the rail networks extending to connect all corners of Equestria. By the time Lieutenant Dawn Glean’s detachment boarded the train in Ponyville, ponies were enjoying a period of prosperity and social opportunity that had never existed before in Equestria’s already prosperous history.

There were, of course, many safeguards being enacted to ensure that this prosperity remained in place for the foreseeable future. The return of Princess Luna saw considerable reforms in the Equestrian Armed Forces as she, always the more realistic of the sister monarchs, took to modernizing the long neglected military. The result came to be known as the Lunar Reforms, which were finally approved after a failed Changeling invasion of Canterlot. At the time, the Army consisted of only a few regular regiments – the royal guard regiments of the EUP and regional regiments such as the North Equus. All of these units received second battalions as a result of the reforms, as well as an upgrade from the effective, but antiquated, breech-loaded Mare-Tina to the more ergonomic and efficient bolt-action Lavender-Medford rifle.

The expansion of the Army meant that, for the first time, opportunities existed for earth ponies to join the unicorn-dominated infantry officer corps. Although officership was open to all three types of ponies, the dexterity magic gave unicorns as well as the education afforded them through its study generally gave them those qualities of intelligence and management most desired in an infantry officer. Pegasi, with their aptitude for speed, formed the cavalry while earth ponies, having learned how to handle machinery and understand the land from agriculture, were often relegated to the artillery. Of all these branches, though, the infantry remained the most prestigious and thus most selective on those who sought to enter its ranks. Major Brass Bolt was one of the first class of ponies to do so, although the grapes, cotton, and molasses from his family’s plantations were a deciding factor in his successful progression through the ranks.

Officers such as Dawn Glean were not nearly as common. I must disappoint readers by saying that her character is an invention of fiction, although she is heavily based on the surviving diaries and memory orbs of several earth pony officers. The primary inspiration for her character comes from recently recovered memoirs belonging to Captain Cherry Bounce in which she fondly mentions a lieutenant of hers - the name, though, is unfortunately lost to the scars of age.

She was a rather pretty mare, with a cutie mark that can best be described as the fresh emergence of a new dawn. It is my only regret that our service together was cut short by my injury, but afterwards I was told that she served well in my stead. She seemed an exceptional officer and an inspiration to me to improve my own leadership so that I might be a similar inspiration to my ponies.

Of the historical characters in Dawn’s Candor, those of Applesnack and Big MacIntosh are worth mentioning. Big Mac’s name will be of no surprise; the brother of Applejack, who bore the Element of Honesty, he is here as he was then: gentle, patient, and willing to work hard for what is right. However, I debated including the character of Applesnack in Dawn’s Candor; most of my readers will likely recognize him as Steelhooves, the name he took when he accompanied me and my friends during our mission to bring light back to the wasteland. I wanted to remain true to his character, and thus his memory, but such a thing is hard to do when so much of his service record and that of Big Mac’s were lost first to military classification and later to the ravages of the wasteland. All we know is that the two served beside each other and became close friends.

Through their service they would see a massive change in the Equestrian Armed Forces, and Equestria in general, that started with the expedition to the Zebra Isles. Prior to that operation, most of Equestria’s experience with external threats was contained to her borders in a series of brief skirmishes and scuffles that became known as Princess Celestia’s Little Wars; most of these conflicts lasted, on average, a few hours and, because firearms were strictly regulated, resulted in very few Equestrian casualties per incident. The reemergence of the Crystal Empire and that country’s status as a protectorate led to the several year-long conflict with the Boerperds, which became the deadliest of these encounters as it saw the first time in a millennia that Equestrian soldiers found themselves against a formidable enemy armed with modern weapons. The campaign against the Boerperds was a long affair fraught with hard lessons that forced the evolution of Equestrian tactical doctrine. This campaign, for the purpose of storytelling in Dawn’s Candor, is significantly truncated to only the infamous Battle of Mauder Ridge.

Both battalions of the North Equus did in fact play a role in that battle, but the second battalion’s late arrival on the field is often credited by some scholars as the cause of defeat, while others claim that the fresh unit’s disciplined rearguard allowed the main force to retire from the field without additional losses. It seems that the battalion’s leadership were able to convince their superiors of the latter; within a week, as the arrival of a diplomatic party led by the Element bearers calmed the conflict, the battalion was selected to take part in the developing hostage crisis on the Celestial Sea. The battalion’s participation in the expedition, which was well documented, occurred much as it did in Dawn’s Candor, including the incidental run-in with Imperial Zebra legionnaires.

Although referred to as “pirates” in Dawn’s Candor, as this was the Equestrian word for them, the zebras that operated in the Celestial Sea were in fact well organized and equipped and even possessed their own government, albeit a crude one, based on the Marejathi Confederacy. They considered themselves to be the rightful descendants of this powerful trading empire and modeled themselves as such. The destruction of their strongholds on the Zebra Isles was a significant blow to their operations, but it would take another 13 moons of joint campaigning led by most of the Equestrian Navy and Army before the shipping routes in the Celestia Sea were once again safe. This “little” war, though, did not have a small cost by any measure, and thus the crucial trade between Equestria and her neighbor, the Zebra Empire, became marred by rising prices as well as rising tensions.

The Zebra Empire was a relatively new power compared to Equestria and for much of its history consisted of only a loose collection of independent tribes, principalities, and a few confederations, such as the Marejathi, that were constantly at war with their environments, their neighbors, and often themselves. The ascension of Grevyi to the throne of the Zebra Kingdom was a turning point as during his rule he stabilized then modernized his country on the Equestrian model. Using commonalities in religion and language, he led a series of political and military campaigns that sought to unite all of the zebras under one Caesar seated in Roam. By the events of Dawn’s Candor, his empire had been enjoying a period of hard earned peace. But the zebras were warry of threats to what they had built, and thus the encroachment of Equestrian soldiers on sovereign territory was seen by some zebras as an open act of aggression. The relations between Celestia and the Caesar, though, remained cordial as this newspaper clipping shows:

Wonderbolts’ Heroic Attempt to Free Zebra Captives Leaves Four Dead
This morning, Princess Celestia announced the successful rescue of the seventeen ponies held captive for two weeks by Zebra gem pirates. The Wonderbolts, Equestria’s greatest fliers, volunteered for the secret mission that sent them into Zebra waters. However, success came at a grave cost as four members of the elite pegasi team were killed in the ensuing battle. Thankfully, none of the captives were killed and only one received serious injury.

Throughout this two-week crisis, the Zebra Caesar repeatedly denounced the actions of the pirates and offered support to Princess Celestia; but He denied permission for Equestrian ponies to enter Zebra territories, claiming it would “increase existing tensions” and insisting that His army’s intelligence indicated that the pirates were operating in international seas. The Zebra Caesar continues to disavow any knowledge of where the pirates’ ship had anchored.

Princess Celestia claims that the Wonderbolts’ operation in Zebra territory was the result of a “happy miscommunication” and apologized personally to the Caesar…

The relationship, though, would soon be lost with the untimely retirement of Caesar Grevyi I following an airship accident that left him broken in more than just body. His son, Grevyi II, took his place and also took a radically different approach to dealing with his neighbor. As a military officer by training, he saw the Imperial legions as the answer to his empire’s problems. Using the Equestrian’s prolonged campaign against the Marejathi as evidence that Equestria could no longer be trusted to be a peaceful neighbor, Caesar Grevyi II rallied support for an expanded military and industrial base. He further incited jingoistic attitudes by ensuring that the controversial trial of Equestrian Navy Ensign Xallec’t, who was later proven innocent of conspiracy, was widely covered; the outrage in Roam was not easily forgotten.

Within years, tensions between the two nations were at an all-time high as storm clouds billowed to obscure their shared horizon. Lieutenant Dawn and her friends will march again.

Author's Note

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope all of you have had as much fun reading this as I have writing - it's certainly been an experience, and while I know this story is far from perfect and contains all those little quirks of a new writer, I hope you were still able to find something out of it. Until the next one, take care. :twilightsmile:

Chapter 1

The air was oppressive on the Ponyville train platform, saturated with moisture from the previous night’s storm and the overwhelming smell of burning coal. Darkness blanketed the platform as thickly as the rising mist, broken only by the sole lamp whose yellow light cast strange shadows between the station’s awning posts. Sunrise was still three hours distant. Not even the birds were awake at this hour. Rather, the only thing that stirred was a scattering of ponies waiting for the call to board the hissing shadow that loomed before them. Unlike the daily trains that serviced the Canterlot or Manehattan lines, this greasy locomotive was painted a drab grey with a white “No. 03” stenciled on the sides. The only color to be found was the flag of Equestria along with the Royal Seal under the numbering, indicating that the train was the property of Their Majesty’s Armed Forces.

All of the passengers were in uniform. Most wore the traditional pastel red tunics of the Equestrian Army, although a few pegasi from the Royal Air Service sported smart tunics of horizon blue. All except three had removed their shakos to keep the condensation forming on the leather lining from soaking their forelocks. The three ponies who clung to their hats were officers, an earth pony lieutenant and two unicorn cornets. Several ponies muttered silent curses at the time, the humidity, or anything else they could think of, while the cornets chatted about the latest memorandum detailing upcoming changes to the army’s uniform.

At least, that is what the lieutenant thought they were talking about. She stood on the corner of the platform, keeping an eye on the mingling soldiers and her watch. All of the soldiers wore the blue trim on their collars and cuffs along with a brass “2.” collar device that signified membership in the 2nd battalion of the North Equus Regiment of Hoof, one of the few regular army regiments aside from the Royal Guard. The second battalion was a new addition to the regiment, part of a series of reforms and modernization programs that had swept through the army after events of the past few years had exposed serious issues in national security. The battalion had been redeployed a week ago to the Northwest frontier to provide border security and handle recent disputes between settlers in the region. All of the ponies on the platform had been on leave in Ponyville and the surrounding villages when the redeployment was executed. For most the orders to report to the battalion had come within the last twelve hours.

The lieutenant looked at her watch again. Damnit! The train was thirty minutes late arriving and was further delayed as the engineers tried to find enough coal for the journey north. At this rate the train might not leave the station for another two hours. She tried to reassure herself that the delay in the schedule would not be a problem, but as the senior officer present on the trip she knew anything that went wrong in the plan would be her responsibility, which meant her superior officers would not hesitate to criticize her shortcomings when the train arrived in battalion camp. The thought made her dizzy, so she shifted her weight onto her back hooves, clanking the shiny new infantry-pattern saber that hung at her side. The weapon was still an unfamiliar nuisance to her, despite having been an officer for twenty moons, and a lieutenant for only two of those. Her rapid promotion was as much due to luck as it was to her actually deserving it, according to her as well as some other ponies she had met.

No, you need to think positive, she reprimanded herself. She opened the watch again and caught her reflection in the soft moonlight. She was a tall mare, with an atmospheric blue coat that mimicked the color of the distant mountains. This was complimented by a blonde mane with streaks of orange and lavender, braided according to army regulations. By everyday standards she was pretty, although most ponies found military service to be an unattractive quality. Aside from the Canterlot unicorns that filled a majority of the officer corps and the pegasi that served in the Royal Air Service wings, most of the military’s ranks were made up of troublemakers, friendless ponies , or those that were simply bored with the destinies their cutie marks gave them. The recruiting sergeants would wander between villages with red uniforms pressed, buttons shined, and cross-belts freshly pipeclayed, enticing young mares and stallions with fresh cups of cider while sharing stories of all the adventure and friends to be found in the army. Such methods were necessary, though, since most ponies were blissfully ignorant of the fact that Equestria had an army at all.

Just like these engineer ponies, the lieutenant thought. She fueled her annoyance with another glance at her watch, then trotted up to the locomotive to see for herself just what was taking so long. The two engineer ponies, black dust obscuring their coats and cutie marks, were standing next to a small pile of coal, gesticulating between the pile and the engine. “What seems to be the problem here, gentlecolts?” the lieutenant interrupted.

“Well, ma’am, me and mah partner here is a tryin’ to figure out how we is goin’ to get y’all the coal y’all need to make it up north. Stuff has been gettin’ pretty scarce ‘round here,” one of the engineers replied.

“Yeah, we only carry enough here to make a trip as far as Manehattan. Ever since the price doubled last moon, we’ve been having to cut back on how much we stockpile. Ponies are losing their damn minds over it, so they are,” the other dust-coated pony explained.

The coal in question was not a resource natural to Equestria. Rather, it had to be imported from neighboring lands, the newly united Zebra Empire being one of the biggest suppliers. The majority of coal was shipped into the bustling ports of Manehattan and Baltimare, but the large ships with their valuable commodity made ripe pickings for anyone looking for a quick prize on the oceans. The increase in piracy in the last two moons had the Equestrian Navy stretched too thin to protect all of the shipping routes, forcing many companies to hire private protection, hence the increase in price.

Studying her watch for a moment, the lieutenant passed a glance at her ponies loitering on the platform, flattened her ears then brought them forward again to address the engineers. “How far can we get with the coal you have loaded right now?”

“I can get you as far as the Crystal Empire capital, but they are reservin’ all their coal up there for trains headin’ south. Not to mention this engine needs to be back in Canterlot tomorrow morning. Not sure what for though.”

“Dragon shit,” a voice muttered.

“What was that, ma’am?”

“Nothing,” the lieutenant answered, “finish your preparations. I will get the ponies loaded on board. We should be ready to depart in fifteen minutes.” She walked off before the engineers had a chance to respond.

The battalion’s camp was another fifty miles beyond the Crystal Empire. Stopping there meant her little detachment would have to march the rest of the way on hoof. She would also have to procure wagons to transport the crates of newly issued rifles, cartridges, and rations for one thousand ponies, hire ponies to pull them, and select a suitable camp along their line of march. All of which would add time to their already tardy arrival. The lieutenant grimaced at the thought of confronting her disappointed commander. It would make a poor first impression.

“Cornet Star!” The cream colored officer jumped, pausing mid-sentence to face the lieutenant addressing her. The other cornet, obviously annoyed at being interrupted, offered a slight turn of her head. Her silver coat was complimented by a fashionable, albeit out of regulations, blue mane styled after the current Canterlot trend.

“Please instruct the ponies to load up. We are departing shortly. And Cornet Belle, please double check that the cargo is secured before you assist Cornet Star. We have a schedule to keep.”

The two officers snapped to attention and then trotted off to carry out their orders. The lieutenant sighed. They meant well, but these young officers still had much to learn that they did not teach in Canterlot. Much like you, she told herself.

She made her way to the station’s office. If the detachment and all of the supplies were going to be late, the battalion staff would need to know and send any additional orders further down the line. The clerk was half asleep when the lieutenant stepped into the small office. A lamp in the far corner barely lit up the collection of ledgers and ticket books that cluttered the room’s only desk.

“Excuse me, I need to send a message to Outpost Charlie-6, Crystal Empire.”

“Sure thing, ma’am. Just write what you need, and I’ll send it off,” the clerk grumbled, while fumbling with a paper and quill, still half asleep. The lieutenant took the quill in her mouth and scribbled.

To: BTN Staff, 2/North Equus

Train has insufficient fuel to arrive at battalion. Will detrain in CRYSTAL EMPIRE and march on hoof. Expect arrival end of day tomorrow. Will await further instructions upon arrival in CRYSTAL EMPIRE.

She stamped her credentials and then handed the paper to the clerk, who took it to a black metal machine that lived on the only part of the desk not covered in books. He opened a small door and placed the paper inside. A green glow peeked out of the chamber as the message was consumed by the magical fire and sent on its way. Tele-fire machines had always fascinated the lieutenant, as did most technology that exploited the arcane sciences. Using the same magical principles that allowed baby dragons to send letters between students and teachers of the magical schools in Canterlot, the tele-fire machine allowed for rapid communication across all of Equestria. But the limitations of the machine, mainly that connections could only be established between single pairs of machines, meant their usage was restricted to Her Majesty’s government since all messages were first sent to the main hub in Canterlot, sorted, and then forwarded to the intended destination.

The lieutenant thanked the clerk and then stepped back outside. The last of the soldiers were filing into the passenger cars, removing their saddle packs and shakos as they entered the compartment. The two cornets sighted the lieutenant and trotted up to her.

“Everything is in order, ma’am. Is it true that we are stopping at the Crystal Empire? I thought our itinerary placed our detraining point closer to the border,” Cornet Star questioned.

Taking the young officer’s comment as an opportunity to teach, the lieutenant answered. “You are correct, cornet, but it would appear the fuel situation is worse than anticipated. We will have to march the last leg of the journey on hoof. But you must remember…”

“What about getting additional coal in the Crystal Empire? Haven’t you considered using train ponies to pull the train the rest of the way?” Cornet Belle interrupted, and then added as an afterthought, “ma’am.”

The lieutenant shot a quick scowl at the cornet, who made a good point despite her lack of tact. She considered the possibility, did a few mental calculations, and, satisfied with her result, continued, “Cornet Belle, if what you suggest had been an option then I would have taken it. Nevertheless, you will soon realize that few plans survive first contact with the realities of our profession.”

“But it would be so much easier if we just stayed on the train,” Cornet Belle protested, “we wouldn’t even have to get off if you pre-arranged for the ponies to be waiting for us when we arrived.”

Cornet Star looked down at her hooves, licking her lips. She fought back her discomfort then tried to defend the lieutenant, “I am sure the lieutenant has a good reason for her decision. Right, ma’am?”

Smiling at the little victory, the lieutenant pulled out a weathered map from her saddlebag. She pointed her hoof at a cluster of contour lines with a thick black line winding amid them. “This is the rail line from the hub in the Crystal Empire to the railhead closest to our camp. It’s forty-seven miles as the pegasus flies, but because of the grade on these mountains the rail line adds another fifteen miles to the trip in navigating around them.” The lieutenant could see the cornets trying to figure the math.

“There is an old road that goes between the mountains here” she said, pointing to a gap in the cluster of lines, “that will only take us fifty miles. Not to mention our train needs to be back in Canterlot tomorrow morning, therefore if we used puller ponies, we risk delaying its timetable.”

“Excellent,” Cornet Belle exclaimed, confident in her calculations, “that means we can still make camp by tomorrow morning if we march at an extended trot.”

“Not quite cornet, there is one factor you have forgotten,” the lieutenant corrected. The young officers looked confused by her logic.

“Look at the ponies you just loaded on the train. Most of them haven’t marched in two moons and some are new recruits who have never marched at all. Do you think they can maintain a collected, let alone extended, trot for five hours?”

“No, ma’am,” the cornets answered, ears flattened in embarrassment.

“Then let this be your second lesson for today: always put the ponies under your command first.”

A sharp whistle from the train cut through the humid air. “Now then, let’s get onboard and get out of here.”

The dull rattle of the passenger car had lulled most of the inhabitants to sleep. A few clung to their consciousness, attempting to carry on quiet conversations with their neighbors. Sitting alone in the front of the car, the lieutenant silently watched these ponies as eventually they too succumbed to the temptation of slumber. She turned her gaze outward, considering the landscape rolling past.

The land of Equestria was nothing remarkable, and yet it was everything she knew. The valley in which the train steamed through was peaceful, with small villages and homesteads flanked on either side by the dark forms of distant mountains. Indeed, the Equestrian Heartland was cut by the impedance of several such mountain ranges, soft and ragged, and ever present. Equestria was a land that thrived in the protective embrace of her valleys. The rains that fell down from the mountain peaks gave the valley its river, and the river gave it life, allowing the ponies to settle, to farm, and to prosper here.

Except very little of this could be seen, for the darkness of the night dominated the valley, threatening to consume it entirely but for the solitary light of the moon. It was an eerie light, seeming to possess neither the purity nor sureness of its daytime sister. Nevertheless, this light shone across the landscape, breathing life and form to an otherwise empty abyss. The river captured the light most of all, painting an interpretation of the lunar orb that mixed its soft yellow luminance with the deep blue of the night in a ripple of horizontal brushstrokes. The reflection had a delicacy which seemed threatened by the steady flow of the river on its journey to the sea. Yet it remained, transfixed even as the motion of the train transformed the frame in which it was set.

As the land accepted light, so too did it reject it in favor of darkness. The trees that populated the rolling hills and valleys stood as black beacons against the sky, their forms made grotesque as the light skirted, bended, and penetrated the mass of leaf and branch in its flight to the ground. The trees themselves, although the strongest, were not the greatest of the darkness, for each cast a shadow larger than itself that obscured the patch of earth on which the tree took residence. Each shadow melded and deformed into the subtle dips and rises of the land, expanding to deny the fresh dew on the blades of grass the opportunity to sparkle in the moonlight.

Along the horizon, floating above the shapeless mass of the mountains, the remnants of dying summer thunderstorms added their light to the valley in brief flashes. Erupting from within, the bursts of lightning colored boiling cloud in hues of yellow and blue. Occasionally the light would escape the dark columns in thin fingers of brilliance, color filling the canvas of white that stretched across the sky as the upper winds dismantled the thunderheads. There was a majesty to them, beckoning a sense of liveliness that animated the otherwise static landscape. Yet the same power which lit up the night sky harbored a violence which threatened to split it asunder.

As the miles went by, the lieutenant watched as the landscape slowly transformed. What was once light was fleeting, yielding to the approach of something far greater. Already the dark blue of the sky was giving way to a gradient of gray that stretched over the once dark dome. And at its edge, a color not yet seen – the palest of pinks. The mountains, too, faded into layers of overlapping blues and lavenders in acceptance of the new light. The violence of the storms was gone, giving way to clusters of dark phthalo whose curvy fragments were outlined by streaks of a warming orange.

Then, as if waiting for this very moment to enter the stage, the first rays of light escaped the guarding clutch of the horizon, immediately illuminating the valley in a spray of color. The river found its blue, the trees their green, while the beams of light found their way into the passenger car, shining on its inhabitants, including the lieutenant. She took her eyes off the unfolding dawn to glance at her flank. Appearing there, as it first had many years ago, was a single ray of sunlight emerging between orange clouds and a purple mountain – the same miracle of dawn as outside the train, forever tied to the lieutenant’s destiny. Lieutenant Dawn Glean was proud of her cutie mark, but as to what it meant, or why it chose her, she did not know. Only the passage of time would tell.

Chapter 3

Dawn found the two cornets within the first two blocks from the station, sitting at an airy restaurant patio. The Crystal Vase Café, according to the painted wood sign that hung outside the establishment’s door. Belle was about to take a bite out of an apple and daisy sandwich when her ears pricked up at the rapid clatter of the approaching lieutenant’s canter. Star put down her eucalyptus punch and stood up ready to investigate as Dawn leaped over the whitewashed fence that surrounded the patio and skidded to a halt in front of the table.

“We have a problem,” Dawn said. Her chest heaved against her saber belt as she caught her breath.

“It’s only been ten minutes, what could possibly have gone wrong?” Belle said without taking her eyes off her sandwich. She floated a napkin to wipe a speck of flower from her nose.

“There’s no time to explain. I need both of you to round up as many of your ponies as you can and send them back to the platform to unload the cargo. Turns out they need that train really bad in Canterlot.”

“They’re not going to be too pleased to be taken away from lunch,” Belle said. “Besides, this sounds like your problem, lieutenant.”

Dawn felt the blood rush to her face. “I’m not asking, Cornet Belle. Now get off your ass and get to it. That’s an order!” She was almost yelling now, drawing the attention of a couple of crystal ponies at a nearby table. Belle shot her a glance that matched the intensity of the lieutenant’s voice but continued to chew away at her lunch.

Star backpedaled from the confrontation, eyes darting between the two officers. Then, finding some courage within her, she turned to address Belle. “Come on, Belle, you can take your sandwich with you,” she said with a soft tone barely above a whisper. It grew in confidence as she found the right words to say, “The lieutenant’s problems aren’t just hers – they’re the unit’s problems, too, and by that they are ours as well.”

Belle considered her friend’s logic, then packed the sandwich in her saddlebag and got up to stand beside her peer. “Very well, they can’t have gotten that far.”

Dawn felt her face cool off as she watched the pair trot off. But her heart was still beating rapidly. She pulled out her watch. - forty-six minutes left. She walked out of the patio and started cantering deeper into the city.

The Crystal Empire was a spectacular city that sparkled at every turn. The streets were a dark polished purple, reflecting the colorful assortment of pedestrians, who likewise seemed to be polished, that walked between shops and engaged one another in pleasantries. A group of mares sat outside a flower stand, taking turns smelling each other’s purchases and chatting idly. All of the ponies sported well-groomed manes and tasteful trinkets of jewelry that beckoned to a simpler, foregone era. A few turned to look at the red-coated officer cantering down the street, puzzled looks appearing on their faces.

Dawn hardly noticed them, though, focusing instead on the buildings that lined the streets in search of places where soldiers might have visited. The architecture of the stores and houses was jagged and organic, taking advantage of the natural formations of crystal that dominated the urban sprawl. Even the street layout mimicked the crystalline-structured theme, with main avenues radiating outward from the city center in symmetric angles. From a pegasus flying overhead, the city would look like a large snowflake that gradually melted into a patchwork of fields and narrow country lanes.

Dawn was thankful for the well-designed street plan which was unlike the confusing labyrinth of winding streets and alleys that dominated Canterlot. It would make finding everypony that much easier. She turned a corner and sighted a restaurant with a sign that advertised “Best oats in town for your money! Try our new OatBurger, just one Bit!” Outside the restaurant were at least a dozen red-coated ponies. Perfect, Dawn breathed in relief. This might not be so hard after all.

In twenty minutes, Lieutenant Dawn had managed to round up most of the soldiers under her supervision and set them to work unloading the cargo crates from the train. Combined with the efforts of the two cornets, only three ponies remained unaccounted for. But where in Equestria were they! Dawn had searched everywhere she thought they might be. They were not at any of the cafés along the main streets, nor were they dining at one of the small eateries that populated the connecting side streets.

Dawn turned around to enlist the help of one of the locals when her ears picked up a violent commotion from an unmarked storefront. She trotted up to investigate, taking note of the wooden barrels that were stacked beside the building’s dilapidated door. Dawn was glad to have been observant for as soon as her hoof touched the porch two barrels were flung from the stack giving her barely enough time to duck as the wood cracked open against the road, spilling amber liquid that pooled on the shiny surface. The culprits who launched the projectile were a pair of soldiers. Dawn’s soldiers. The two, disheveled and clearly inebriated, were exchanging hooves and vulgarities.

“You little shit, come ‘ere. I jus’ wanna have a friendly little talk ‘bout what you owe me,” the larger of the two, a green stallion, slurred. The other party, a spritely unicorn with a tan coat, wriggled around her opponent’s hooves, whistling an unrecognizably silly tune. Dawn recognized them as the card-playing ponies from the train. She figured that their current dispute must be related to the outcome of that game.

“Stop this right now!” Dawn used her command voice, but to no effect as she pulled her head back to miss a flying hoof. The green pony swung around and shifted his weight to his forehand, rear legs springing back to kick another barrel towards the unicorn. It flew upwards, buffeting a lock of black hair that belonged to an older dark green pegasus who was floating over the scene, wise enough to keep himself out of the way.

“You don’t have to do this, Applesnack. She’s just a filly. She didn’t mean nothin’,” the pegasus protested.

“This is between me an’ her, Crag!” Applesnack roared back. More barrels fell victim to his kicks, yet the unicorn dodged each with apparent ease. Perhaps she isn’t as drunk as I thought, Dawn assessed. The thought was quickly replaced with frustration when a bursting barrel doused her in cider. Her blood was boiling now. These ponies needed to learn some respect for the authority an officer carried. Without thinking, she rushed between the two, holding out her forelegs in an attempt to break up the fight.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, ma’am,” Crag stated from above. Dawn looked up, about to ask what he meant by that when she felt the sharp pain of a hoof make contact with her head. She did not even feel her body hit the ground before the world around her went dark.

The first thing that confronted Dawn when she woke up was the earsplitting headache. A quick glance at her watch confirmed she had only been out for two minutes, though her aching body made it feel longer. She pulled herself to her hooves, grunting with the effort, then looked around to take stock of the situation. The two ponies were sitting quietly on either side of the porch, the fight resolved although Applesnack’s angry scowl persisted across his face. Crag had landed and was consoling the unicorn by straightening the braiding of her brown mane. “You’re alright, Ditty, it’s over. Should’ve known better than to tussle with Applesnack when he’s had too much to drink.”

A fifth pony, standing next to Applesnack, must have arrived on the porch while Dawn was unconscious, and she gathered that he was likely the one who had stopped the fight. She shook her head to clear the stars still floating in her vision and then walked over to thank the stranger. He was large with a reddish coat and short orange mane, his size giving a calm authority which must have helped him bring the brawling ponies under control. Dawn’s eyes fell on the pony’s distinctive yoke and freckles and immediately recognized him from her time with the Ponyville Yeomanry. “Big MacIntosh, what a pleasant surprise!”

“Eeyep,” Big Mac replied.

“What brings you all the way up here?” Dawn asked. Although Big Mac was a sergeant in the Yeomanry regiment, he spent most of his time working his family’s apple orchard. He would always bring fresh apples to dressage weekends for everypony to enjoy after a long day of training.

“I was deliverin’ some pies for my sister,” he said, his country draw oddly homely in Dawn’s ears. She recalled his experience with wagons being an invaluable asset with the regiment’s wagon train during her tenure with the regiment. She had never figured that delivering apples for his family’s business could yield so many of the adventures he referenced when working in the wagon train.

“How is your family doing?” Dawn had only met the Apples twice at the regiment’s social gatherings, but those occasions had been enough for her to admire the bond the family shared for each other.

“A.J. an’ her friends ‘ave gone up t’ Canterlot for the week. Some assignment for the Princess. Apple Bloom got accepted int’ her school.” Dawn remembered the filly chatting with her at a regimental picnic about her plans to be an architect.

“That’s great for her. What about you? Surely you must be up to more than just delivering pies.”

“Actually, it’s pretty much jus’ been pies. But I was plannin’ on takin’ a few days t’ explore this place afore headin’ home. Ain’t really been up here much.”

“Well, I’m glad you chose this particular pub to explore first.” Dawn nodded toward Ditty’s and Applesnack’s respective ends of the porch. “How did you get them to calm down anyways? I took a hoof to the head for my troubles.” She rubbed the still tender spot under her ear.

Big Mac chuckled. “It was easy, really. I jus’ told that green stallion he had t’ fight me afore that filly an’ he seemed t’ change his mind ‘bout the whole thing.” Dawn took another look at the large red stallion and reached the same conclusion Applesnack likely did.

“Well, thank you so much for your help resolving this,” Dawn said, gesturing again to the two sulking ponies.
“Eeyep, no problem.”

“Perhaps you might be able …” Dawn started, unsure of whether to ask more of the big stallion. She decided she could use his wagon expertise for the march to camp, so continued with her request. “Would you be able to help us out with some wagons. We have to transport some crates of food and supplies to our camp on the other side of the Yaket mountains. We could use a pony with your experience.”

“Eeyep,” he replied simply. “I was plannin’ t’ head up through there anyways. Locals say it’s mighty pretty this time of year.”

Dawn felt her headache lessen at the positive news. “Glad you can lend a hoof, Big Mac. Now let’s get these troublemakers back to the station.”

The detachment of soldiers was already formed up along the platform when Lieutenant Dawn arrived. From the sweat that darkened their fur she could tell that they had worked hard unloading the crates and placing them in the wagons that stood further down the platform. Dawn felt a pang of pity looking at them. She had denied them food and rest then made them work like mules all because of her mistaken weakness in giving her initial orders. Her desire to put her ponies first had put them last instead.

Her feelings were quickly doused as she turned to the trio of troublemakers she was escorting. “Private Ditty, Private Crag, fall-in to the detachment,” she instructed. The two snapped quick salutes and trotted off to join the line. She had no issues with them – they were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. Her tone sharpened considerably as she addressed the real instigator, “Now then, what do I do with you, corporal? How do you explain your behavior today?”

“No excuse, ma’am,” stated the stallion. Somehow his voice had lost all trace of intoxication, replaced instead with a firm grumble.

“Why were you upset with Private Ditty? Why did you decide to act now, of all times?” Dawn was hoping to get more than a basic response out the stubborn pony.

“Ma’am, I do not know, ma’am.” She was disappointed. This conversation was leading nowhere.

“Corporal Applesnack, are you aware that striking a superior officer is grounds for a general court-martial and punishable up to dismissal from Their Majesties’ Armed Forces to include forfeiture of all pay and allowances?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Applesnack held a perfect position of attention, his moving lips barely breaking the grim expression he wore. He was visibly sweating, but Dawn could not tell whether it was from his response to the reprimand or the trot back to the station. She assumed it was the latter and continued.

“However, I recognize that your blow may very well not have been intended for me. Nevertheless, Private Applesnack, I am recommending a reduction in grade and fatigue duty for two weeks.” Dawn drew her saber and cut the two white stripes from Applesnack’s sleeve.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dawn could hear a subtle difference in his voice, the static gruffness tinged with a waiver of hurt at the demotion. This was her least favorite part of being a lieutenant. But discipline had to be maintained even if it meant she had to become the villain.

“Fall-in.” Applesnack turned about and walked to file into the rest of the detachment.

“That’un is one t’ keep your eye on.” Big Mac had walked up beside Dawn during the conversation.

“Yes, I know. He’s a ruffian and will no doubt be causing me more trouble,” Dawn sighed.

“Actually, ah meant he’s the kind of pony that’s got potential,” Big Mac corrected. Dawn failed to see his reasoning, expressing as such through a raised eyebrow. Big Mac elaborated, “Didn’t you see how he handled your reprimand? He didn’t flinch one bit, not until you struck somethin’ that mattered t’ him. He’s stubborn but got spirit when it counts. Ah reckon that’s the kind of pony I want by my side in a tough spot.”

Dawn considered the advice, shocked by Big Mac’s ability to read the pony. She concluded he was right, glancing at the end of the formation where the trio had taken their places. All three of them probably had potential. Ditty’s agility and attitude had surprised Dawn, and she admired both the practical wisdom and care that Crag had displayed. And despite his temper, Applesnack was definitely a fighter. Ponies to keep her eye on, indeed.

Dawn turned her gaze from the formation of red-clad ponies to the other side of the platform, where a rapid clattering of hooves had drawn her attention. Filing from the station’s building was a platoon of Crystal Empire soldiers who lined up next the train’s passenger car, forming an unbroken corridor from the train to the station door. The crystal ponies were not wearing the pastel red tunics of Equestria, but rather were clad in the uniform of their native land. The long blue coats were flashy, with the bottom hem turned up around the hindlegs to reveal the red lining along the inside. Each pony wore a stiff kepi that bore a purple crystal, the symbol of the Empire, embroidered into the circular top. Dawn had never seen the Crystal Empire’s military before. Although a dependency of Equestria and ruled by members of the Royal Family, the Crystal Empire still retained an independent government and, consequently, an independent military with its own set of traditions.

“I bet that’s why they needed the train,” Star commented, joining the lieutenant as she gawked over the foreign uniforms.

“I suppose you are right,” Dawn said. “It must be something pretty important to warrant that kind of escort. Although the engineer pony didn’t say what, or who, they were transporting back to Canterlot …” Dawn trailed off, suddenly remembering the earlier exchange, and, in particular, the message the engineer had given her.

Shit! She still had not read it. She reached back and pulled the scroll out of her saddlebags. Star’s horn glowed as she floated it in front of the lieutenant to read.

To: Lt. Dawn Glean, 2/North Equus

Communication received. Disputes with settlers have escalated into armed confrontation. Battalion is moving to engage suspected enemy position west of camp. Proceed with all haste to join battalion. Possible resistance along route of march past Yaket Mtns.

Major Brass Bolt, 2/North Equus

“What is it?” Big Mac asked, reading the troubled expression in Dawn’s flattened ears.

“We need to get going now,” Dawn said. Celestia’s fucking Sun, why didn’t I read that earlier, she cursed to herself. She turned to face her detachment, drawing her saber for extra attention as she started giving commands. “Two columns, marching order. Wagons in the rear. Move!” The formation dissolved and rapidly reformed according to the lieutenant’s directions. Behind the column, the puller ponies strained against their harnesses to lug the heavy wagons into place. Big Mac’s deep voice carried over the din, directing the placement of each wagon.

Satisfied with the formation, Lieutenant Dawn gave the order, “at the collected trot, forward, MARCH!” Private Ditty, the detachment’s sole bugler, blew the dancing pair of pitches that echoed the command as the files of red uniforms clopped and clattered off the platform and onto the dusty road that lead into the Yaket Mountains where gathering storm clouds darkened the distant peaks.

Chapter 4

The march through the farmlands had gone well enough. Lieutenant Dawn had kept the detachment moving at a trot for an hour before enough stragglers fell out to convince her that a more reasonable pace was necessary. Although the air was neither hot nor humid, the sun still beat down on the necks of the marching column, soaking their woolen tunics a shade darker. The warmth combined with the endless horde of dust that scores of hooves had kicked up left the soldiers desperate to quench the thirst that clogged their throats. Two-thirds of the detachment had emptied their canteens by the first hour.

“Detachment, HALT!” Dawn gave the command to stop for the fourth time since they had left the station some twenty miles behind them. The ponies said nothing, but rather flopped down in the grassy embankment on either side of the road, too exhausted to bother removing their equipment which clanked noisily as they hit the ground. Big MacIntosh was laying beneath one of the wagons, fixing a loose axle that had come apart during the last hour of the march. Dawn opened her canteen and was disappointed by the single drop of water that trickled out. She should have hired a water wagon to accompany them.

“How much longer until we set up camp for the night,” Star asked. Her eyes betrayed her weariness. Dawn pulled out her map and watch, studying the route of march for a minute.

“We have another hour of daylight left,” she said, “so I think we can make it through this forest and camp next to the stream that flows through this pass here.” She pointed a hoof between the symbols on the map and the corresponding landmarks that were just visible further up the road.

“Cornet Belle seems to think we should have kept the trot going for another three hours,” Star informed Dawn. “But I think you were right earlier. These ponies are in rough shape. I already have seven marked down for visits to the farrier when we get into camp.” Belle had been referring to the field service manual, which prescribed four hours of trot followed by two hours of walk as the standard for cross-country movement, as ammunition for her protest. A cavalry regiment, consisting almost entirely of pegasi, could move twice that speed according to the regulations, but few active duty units ever reached that benchmark. The trains were far too convenient.

“We’ll be able to make a faster pace tomorrow. Everypony is tired,” Dawn said, looking around at the motionless lumps along the road. “It’s been a long day and I’m sure most of us are just looking forward to getting some sleep.”

“Agreed.”

Dawn waited another ten minutes then begrudgingly gave to order to fall-in. Ponies groaned as they pulled themselves up from the embankment. The noise and dust returned as the column snaked its way through the last of the fields and entered the forest that edged the base of the Yaket Mountains.

The most immediate difference Dawn felt upon entering the forest was the temperature. The coolness dried the sweat that dripped from her shako, leaving behind a salty film that was both gritty and oddly pleasant against her head. Cool, dark blue shadows, the source of the cooler air, stretched through the woods as the sun continued its downward descent in the sky. What light did appear was held captive by the towering columns of trees, predominantly pine, but with some cedar and spruce, that formed a grand hallway along the road, supporting an arched ceiling of thick branches and needles. The light of the setting sun barely penetrated the few holes in the canopy, leaving muted patches that splotched warmly on the road ahead. Out of one such window Dawn spotted the first glimpse of the moon striding across the darkening dome to take watch over the cathedral of evergreens. The walls of the space reacted to the changing light, browns and blues blending with greens and yellows as what was once light became dark.

The uncharacteristic silence of the evening struck Dawn as disquieting, as if the whole of the pines were hushed in reverence to the passage of the celestial bodies’ radiance. She felt as a stranger trespassing upon a sacred ritual, yet the solitude of the place yearned her further in, beckoning her to understand the mystery that lay amidst its shadows.

So enthralled was she with this line of thought that she did not notice the old green pegasus land next to her until he spoke. “The forest has an enchantment of its own, don’t it, ma’am?”

Dawn turned to face Crag, curious. “I would hardly describe it as that. It seems too quiet to me. And dark.”

“The trees hide many things, especially to those whose focus is only on the path before them. But to those who take the time, the secrets within may reveal themselves. Like that nightingale,” Crag said, nodding towards the bird that perched on a branch in the last rays of sunlight. The creature took no notice of the strangers below, continuing its chirping aria unabated. Dawn began to pick up other sounds, too, that accompanied the nightingale’s solo. A wren warbled a countermelody deeper in the forest while a trio of squirrels chatted a rhythmic motif. A rustling of ferns grabbed Dawn’s attention and she turned to look at it only to catch a flash of red followed by a pair of yellow eyes. She flinched.

“Fox,” Crag pointed out as the creature scurried to hide in another set of undergrowth, a mangled rabbit hanging from his mouth. “Not all secrets are as pretty as the birdsong, but even he has his place here.” Dawn noted that the cutie mark on Crag’s flank was also a fox, perched atop a rock.

“And what is your place here? You seem old to be just a private,” Dawn inquired of the pegasus.

“I joined the army late in life,” he shared. “Before that I was a hunter, mostly working out of the Everfree. My clients payed me well, especially when the red fur coat fad hit Canterlot.”

Dawn understood the nature of the pegasus’s line of work. The animals in the Everfree Forest were protected under the Princesses’ conservation laws. Crag had been a poacher. “What made you decide to join?”

“I just didn’t like living in the shadows anymore. It wasn’t the kind of pony I imagined myself being, even if it was my cutie mark. The army seemed like the only option I had, especially when my clients threatened to turn me in when I stopped supplying them.”

Dawn nodded in quiet understanding, though she was not convinced by his answer. She looked back into the undergrowth as the fading light shifted onto the bush the fox had hidden in. Two kits emerged from under the thickets, greeting the hunter with hungry squeaks. The fox dropped the carcass and wrapped his bushy tail around the kits, gently smoothing out their coats. Something in the scene reminded Dawn of earlier that day. She wondered what kind of pony the old pegasus saw himself as. But she said nothing.

Crag did not say anything for a while, either. The sun finished its decent into the horizon, plunging the forest into the gray twilight. The pair walked down the darkened road, the silence broken only by the metallic clank of equipment and sweet chirping of the birds. Then, softly and slowly, Crag simply said, “I have always found twilight to be the darkest part of night in the forest. The creatures we know and love from daytime retire as the sun sets and the woods that were home now feel empty. But then the moon rises, and a new shift begins in the forest.”

Crag said nothing more other than goodnight to the lieutenant and rejoined the column. A pale shaft of moonlight shone in the path before the detachment, indicating a large clearing. Dawn heard the murmur of a creek and knew they had arrived at their campsite for the night. The ponies were exhausted, stripping their equipment as soon as the lieutenant gave the order to fall-out. A few ponies took the effort to gather wood and make small fires to cook dinner, but most simply unfolded their blankets and collapsed into the welcoming embrace of sleep. Dawn finished her duties, established rotations for the picquet, then found a patch of earth next to a rock outcropping. She unfastened her saber and saddlebag, letting them fall to the ground while she unbuttoned her tunic. She laid down, stretching the toll of the day out of her legs. Looking up into the night sky, she drifted into sleep as the flashes from more summer storms danced through the night.

The train pulled into the Canterlot station an hour after sunset. Pools of water dotted the platform, reflecting glimmers of moonlight while low rumbles from far off competed with the hissing of the locomotive’s brakes. A single figure emerged from the passenger car, her cloak tightly drawn against damp. Two ponies wearing the ceremonial armor of the Royal Guard trotted up to meet her and escort her to a waiting carriage. The ascension to the castle was brief. Businesses along the empty street were closed and most ponies had turned in for the night, although a few lights shimmered in the roadway’s puddles to reveal those that remained awake.

The cloaked pony returned the guards’ salute as she stepped through the gate and into the castle. Her hoof steps echoed through the marble hallway which were flanked on either side by rows of stained glass windows, each marking an important event in Equestria’s long history. The doors at the end of the hallway swung open as she entered a spacious yet dimly lit room. In the middle was a large round table, with several ponies already seated. At the far end sat the dual monarchs, a tall white alicorn and her smaller, dark blue sister. Princess Celestia spoke first. “Princess Cadance, so glad you could make it on such short notice. I am sorry about the trains – I hope your journey from the Crystal Empire was not too uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s quite alright, you know I don’t mind. The journey was quite lovely actually,” the pink alicorn replied while removing her cloak. She walked over to her seat, passing a wink at the purple unicorn who sat opposite her.

Princess Luna spoke up next, “Now that everypony is here, let us begin with the briefing. Daring Do, if you please.”

The chief of Equestrian Intelligence, a beige pegasus with a grey mane, stood up from her chair and spread her wings to hover over a map that Princess Celestia projected onto the table. The map showed an archipelago of islands with various lines and symbols indicating important landmarks. Daring Do cut straight to the point.

“Two days ago, the coal steamer La Mare, while transiting the Celestial Sea shipping routes, tele-fired a distress signal to the naval station in Manehattan. We know from the manifest that she was carrying 500 tons of coal and 100 tons of gems as well as 17 crew onboard. At 0630 the next day the steamer stopped responding to all attempts to contact her. The frigate Phoenix was dispatched to investigate but reported no sight of the collier along its anticipated course. The Phoenix launched a pegasi scout team which established visual contact with the La Mare 20 nautical miles beyond its plotted course. They also reported a smaller vessel alongside her but attempts to identify the ship were thwarted when it opened fire on the team, wounding one of the scouts.” Several ponies gasped.

Daring Do continued, “The actions of this ship are consistent with a cell of zebra pirates that are known to operate in the area. It is my belief, based on their last reported course, that they are taking the La Mare and her crew to this group of islands off the Zebra Empire coast.” She gestured to the map, drawing everypony’s attention to the largest of the islands as she spoke. “This island here is the only inhabited, and thus claimed, island, in the area. There is just one active settlement of zebras, here, on the southern end of the island. The other islands are further northeast and my gut tells me this is where we’ll find our ship.”

“How do you propose we reach these islands?” Colonel Spitfire interjected. “That big one is at least two days flight from the nearest air base, not to mention those smaller ones which look to me like another half-day out from the big one.” The fiery pegasus wore a dark blue variant of the Royal Air Service uniform that designated her command, the 1st Pegasus Wing. “The Wonderbolts may be up to task, but I sure as hell ain’t going to make them fly there. Or spend two days cooped up in some stinking boat.”

Daring Do retreated to her seat, choosing to hold her tongue. Twilight Sparkle raised a hoof, which was acknowledged by Princess Celestia. “Go ahead, Twilight.”

“Princess, if I may, me and the girls are ready to help,” she suggested, her voice pleading with the urge to be useful.

“Unfortunately, my student, this is not the sort of test I believe you,” Celestia sighed, “or the Elements are prepared for.”

Twilight’s eyes went wide as her ears drooped. “But Princess, we have proven ourselves in the past,” she protested. The stained glass windows outside the room justified her claim. “I know that our magic can live up to the challenge this time.”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” an officer chimed in, “but what good are your precious Elements going to be against the vile hatred of those zebra pirate bastards? Last I checked friendship didn’t magically stop bullets from killing ponies.”

Twilight clinched her face, barring teeth through her scowl. She raised her voice in defense, “And what do you know of friendsh-”

“No, Twilight,” Luna cut the unicorn off. Her voice was firm yet tinged with compassion. “He is right, my dear. The hearts of these pirates are not easily changed. They will not hesitate to harm you or your friends. Another solution is necessary.”

“Indeed,” said Celestia, taking charge of the room. “That is why I am sending Equestria’s best to resolve this. Colonel Spitfire, what do you need to get your Wonderbolts in position?”

Spitfire looked at the map, then turned to address the princess. “If you can get me a base of operations on that main island, I can have a squadron recon the other islands for our ponies. Then we dash in and rescue them.”

“We will need to tread carefully,” Cadance warned the colonel. “The proximity to sovereign zebra territory makes the operation you propose a delicate one, especially given our current tensions over the coal trade.”

“The Zebra Caesar is an old friend of mine. I will seek an audience with him personally to grant us access,” said Celestia. “It is a long journey down there. In the meantime, …” she looked at her sister who nodded “… you have our approval to begin preparations for the operation. Colonel Spitfire, I am placing you in charge of the expedition. Have your force ready to land as soon as I give the word.” Spitfire nodded at the order, motioning to her aide to draft notes from the briefing.

“But now, let us get some sleep,” Celestia said, standing up and stretching her wings. The room filled with the noisy scuffle of chairs as everypony came to attention, then bowed. “Goodnight, everypony, and good luck.”

The bright notes of a bulge broke the wet stillness of morning, stirring unwanted life into the stiff lumps that littered the campsite. Lieutenant Dawn groaned then tossed herself on her other side. She knew she had been the one to order the early wake up call, but that did not lessen the loath her body urged her to feel towards the young unicorn with the bugle. With her eyes still shut she could hear the first curses being muttered as ponies tried to restart their fires only to realize a midnight shower had dowsed the embers from the previous night.

“Good morning, lieutenant.” Dawn sat up, realizing it was futile to delay the inevitable. She opened her eyes and tried to make sense of the blurry world around her.

“Would you like some tea, ma’am?” The voice was that of Star. Dawn did not need her eyes to smell the musty smoke from the fire the cornet had erected. She raised her hoof to rub the world into focus and then started buttoning her tunic.

“Good morning, Star. Yes, some tea sounds excellent,” Dawn answered. She rummaged through her saddlebag to retrieve her mug and place it on a convenient rock. Star levitated a cast-iron kettle from the fire over to the waiting mug and poured the steaming liquid inside. Dawn pressed the mug to her lips and took a sip while lounging against the rock. She looked around the camp while the tea worked its magic on her aching body.

The clearing in which the detachment had camped was far more impressive than Dawn had seen under the visage of faint moonlight and weary eyes when they arrived. The rocky faces of the mountains enclosed half of the campsite save for a small trail that cut between them, winding its way upwards and beyond the imposing forms. The creek, muddy and swollen, followed the trail it had carved through the rock. It carried its sediment deep into the woods and the farmland beyond where Dawn presumed it eventually joined the larger rivers and made its way to the sea. Clouds of fog hung about the top of the mountain but were slowly being burned off by the rising sun to reveal white caps of snow that blanketed the higher elevations.

The mist of the morning gave way to white clouds of smoke as more campfires were ignited. Dawn could already smell the sweetness of fried apples and oats drifting along with the smoke from a fire in the corner of camp. She wondered where the apples came from, since in the rush to leave the Crystal Empire there had been no time to issue additional rations. Rather, everypony only carried the standard three days’ worth of oat-tack biscuits and tins of canned beets that fit in their haversacks. Dawn grimaced as she bit down on her own rock solid piece of oat-tack. It was stale and tasteless in her mouth especially next to the aroma of fresh apples. She stood up, stomach leading her to search out the source of the smell which she quickly sighted.

Crag dropped a bushel of apples next to the fire, while hunched over a skillet tending to breakfast was Applesnack. He passed a glance at the lieutenant’s approach then returned to his cooking.

Ditty was more courteous, “Good morning, lieutenant! Care to join us for some breakfast.” Her voice was just as bright and cheery as her bugle. Before Dawn could decline the offer or even return the greeting, Ditty thrust a plate into the lieutenant’s hooves. The golden balls of apple and oat looked delicious. Dawn bit down on one, the delight of feeling the crunchy ball explode into juicy moistness in her mouth showed itself in her expression.

“Applesnack’s own recipe for apple fritters,” Crag explained on seeing the reaction. “Far better use of that goddess-awful oat-tack if you ask me.” Dawn offered a compliment to Applesnack, who simply muttered something incoherent in return while keeping his eyes on the sizzling fritters in the skillet. Dawn returned the rest of her plate to Ditty and thanked the unicorn. She walked back over to her sleeping spot and finished getting ready by buckling her saber and saddlebags on her back.

“You shouldn’t be so loose with the enlisted ponies,” Cornet Belle said as she walked up, noting the crumbs of fritter that still speckled Dawn’s muzzle.

“And why is that, do tell?” Dawn was in no mood for a lecture, especially from the junior officer.

“Such behavior erodes discipline and degrades the fundamental respect the enlisted soldier must have for the Princesses’ Commission.” Belle was quoting the Officers’ Guide. “You become nothing more than a common solider to them. Especially since you look like one.”

“That will be all, Cornet Belle.” Dawn had had enough. The cornet’s tone infuriated her, but she knew there was truth in her observation. Being an earth pony and an officer was an exception – not the rule.

“Tell me, Cornet Belle, what signifies the rank of an officer?” the lieutenant asked. Belle hesitated, taken aback by the question.

“The arrangement of gems on their cuff. And the wearing of a saber and sash within the infantry branch,” Belle correctly answered.

“What about their head?”

“Pardon,” said Belle, confused by the question. “There are no rank indicators worn on the shako or head at all.”

Dawn brought her hoof up and clipped the top of Belle’s horn. “Then I still outrank you, cornet. Now, if you are done, we have a lot of work to do before we start our march. Go grab the ledgers and meet me by the wagons.” The unicorn rubbed a hoof to her head, smarting from the blow. Her cold eyes made contact with the lieutenant’s, then she broke off to stomp over to her saddlebags.

“What was that about?” asked a puzzled Star.

“Nothing,” said Dawn, shaking her head. She forced a cheerier expression to address the other cornet. “I need you to gather everypony and have them line up at the wagons to be issued a rifle and cartridges. If we are marching into hostile territory, I want us to be ready for anything.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Star trotted off towards the center of camp while Dawn went to seek out Big MacIntosh. She found the big stallion propped up against a tree, still dozing.

“Big Mac, wake up!”

“Eeyep,” he said, eyes jumping open. He stumbled and then brought himself to his hooves. His face appeared redder than usual under the lieutenant’s gaze.

“Good, you’re awake. Come along, we are issuing rifles to the ponies. And there is this for you as well.” Dawn pulled out a red tunic from her saddlebag and gave it to the stallion who just stared at it. The sergeant’s stripes were freshly sewn on. “I had Star pull an extra from the baggage last night. We are in need of a good NCO after yesterday.”

“But, I ain’t no soldier, not like this,” Big Mac protested. “It just don’t feel right for me t’ wear a uniform that ain’t mine.”

“It’s just until we make it to battalion. Besides, I am not looking for a soldier. I am looking for a leader, someone who knows ponies. And you do.” Dawn hoped she was making the right choice. The rustling of fabric as Big Mac slipped the coat on told Dawn she had.

The ascent up the mountain was going better than Dawn had anticipated. The trail was just wide enough to accommodate the wagons, although two had already gotten stuck. The path was in poor shape due to its location between the slopes, where all the summer rain and springtime snow-melt flowed down and washed away the loose dirt and gravel, leaving behind large ruts and holes. The rut the first wagon had fallen into was almost large enough to fit a whole pony laying down. Fortunately, the wheels had still been intact and there were enough strong backs to lift the wagon back onto the path. The second wagon buried two of its wheels in a hole filled with mud. It proved stubborn to extricate until Big Mac suggested using some nearby saplings as leverage and led the ponies in freeing the wagon from the mud’s sticky vice.

So far Dawn had not seen any signs of hostile activity. Nevertheless, the soldiers kept their rifles close with the bits that operated the weapon’s mechanisms stowed in the ready position just below their chins. Dawn had managed to snag one for herself despite the reproachful glances from Belle as she did so. Officers don’t carry long weapons she imagined Belle saying to her if their earlier conversation had not already silenced the cornet’s indignation. The lieutenant liked her saber – it was an elegant weapon, with intricate engraving along the blade that depicted the symbols of the dual monarchs. The leather-bound handle and nose guard were custom fitted to her mouth, as were all the sabers presented to officers upon graduation from training and acceptance of the Princesses’ Commission. But it was not a practical weapon, not for her at least. She could pass her saber manual exercises well enough, but she doubted if she could wield the weapon and give effective commands at the same time, something which a unicorn was able to do with ease and for whom the weapons were really designed. The rifle, despite its ugly purpose, appealed to her with its earth pony utilitarianism. It was not a bad looking weapon either, with a polished wood stock and well-oiled bolt mechanism.

How well she would actually use the weapon in action, though, she did not know. With less than four miles left, Dawn had noticed a peculiar silence descend on the ponies. They were nervous and the lieutenant could feel it. The landscape had also changed into something unfamiliar, transitioning from mountain forest to what Dawn’s intelligence report had called the veldt. Very few trees grew, just collections of bush and weeds that littered an arid expanse that started on the reverse slope of the mountains, almost as if the peaks themselves had cast a long shadow of poverty over the land. Dawn supposed it must be because few pegasi could fly high enough to bring rain clouds over the mountains. The report had not mentioned the settlers possessing their own weather services. In fact, the report had not mentioned much about the ponies in the region other than that the settlers, known as the Boerperds, had migrated to the region shortly after the formation of Equestria and remained fiercely independent. The encroachment of crystal ponies establishing new mines had been the source of current tensions.

Dawn thought about rereading the intelligence report to take her mind of her anxiety when she heard it. Rifle fire coming from the west, about three miles distant she estimated. She licked her lips, swallowed, and then took a deep breath.

“Detachment, at my command, at the extended trot, forward, MARCH!” The bugle call came shortly after. Lieutenant Dawn was leading her detachment of soldiers toward the sound of battle. Her first battle.

Chapter 5

Dawn’s detachment arrived at the edge of the battle within thirty minutes. She positioned her ponies behind the shelter of a hill and directed them to remain hidden. Grabbing Star and Belle, she scampered up the embankment to appraise the situation and determine how best to rejoin the battalion.

The scene unfolding in front of Dawn’s eyes was simultaneously glorious and horrific. Three companies from the 2nd battalion were arranged in close order on the field, forming three neat blocks of red that poked above the bush. Dawn pulled out her telescope and spotted a cluster of figures perched atop a small knoll behind the main line. She assumed them to be the battalion’s officers. She moved the glass over to where the blue and white silk of the Princesses’ Colors fluttered at the head of the center company. With each flag, hoof-touched by the dual monarchs before being presented to the battalion, went forth the driving force that was the magic of the unit’s spirit and pride. Except now these colorful symbols were being marched blindly into a slaughter.

The battalion’s objective appeared to be a long ridge that stretched low across the horizon. Each company advanced towards it with the same leap-frogging drill Dawn had seen in her first maneuvers. The puffs of white smoke that covered the red-clad ponies, followed by the delayed crackle of musketry, rippled through each company with practiced regularity. The soldiers were skilled, each pair going through the motions of load, present, fire, switch, and repeat. Dawn glanced at her watch and timed the battalion’s rate of fire at five rounds a minute.

But she could not see the effects of their fire along the ridge, which she noted was oddly devoid of smoke. She twisted her telescope further to adjust the focus and swept it along the ridgeline where small specks of color and dark lines indicated where the enemy sat pointing rifles down on the advancing battalion from the concealment of a ditch. The single, sharp cracks between volleys and growing collection of lifeless forms behind the battalion told Dawn that the enemy was indeed firing, and, based on the absence of white smoke, with the new style of rifles Dawn’s ponies had been issued, but the battalion had not. The weapons were effective. Dawn felt an urge to empty her stomach.

“Lieutenant Dawn, what is your plan?” The question came from Star. Dawn froze. She wanted to say “I don’t know” or “Let me think about it” but she knew from training that the worst thing to do was nothing. She had to think of something, but she could not think of anything other than what she had just seen.

“Ma’am, I believe our best course of action is to form ourselves on the right flank,” said Belle, pointing a hoof to where a company was maneuvering around a small gully toward the base of the ridge. Technically, according to the regulations, reinforcements arriving to an engagement were to report to the reserve until ordered forward by the unit commanders. Dawn liked the idea of that plan and turned to brief her officers when a loud cheer from the battle drew her attention. The sound of musketry had stopped, replaced instead by a rousing string of notes from the bugles that urged a steady forward movement across the whole battalion. The sunlight reflected brightly off the front of the line. Bayonets. The battalion was going to take the ridge with the force of cold steel. Dawn knew her plan was useless. She had to act now.

She trained her telescope once more on the ridge then found what she was looking for. Along the left side, hidden from the battalion by a rocky spur but visible from her position was a path that led up and around the ridgeline. If she could get her ponies in position on top of the crest, their fire could enfilade the Boerperd position and allow the rest of the battalion to claim the objective.

“Alright, here is the plan,” Dawn said. “We need to get on top of that ridge. There is a path that I think will work, but we need to be quick. I will take the twenty ponies we have trained as skirmishers and lead the way forward. Star, you will lead the main force behind me. Deploy as soon as you reach the top of the ridge. Belle, I need you to take ten ponies and escort the wagons to the battalion. They must need ammunition – I can’t see why they would resort to the bayonet otherwise.”

“But ma’am, should we not report-in first? You are no longer the ranking officer on the field,” Belle protested. She had flattened her ears against her head.

“Then why don’t you report-in for us when you get the wagons over there,” Dawn replied curtly, flattening her ears as well. There was no time to argue. The three officers slid down the hill and shouted orders in the rush to gather ponies together.

Dawn kept her ponies low, trying to take advantage of the cover provided by bushes and dips in the land to cover her approach. She hoped that the assault by the main battalion would keep the Boerperd rifle-ponies from sighting her detachment until they made it to the spur, which was about two hundred lengths distant. She paused to peek over at the battalion’s progress, pulling out her telescope. Through the glass she could see that the forward momentum had been stopped just short of the ridge’s base. She panicked. What if the ponies weren’t charging up the slope? Her detachment’s action would have no effect and be cut off without the weight of seven hundred bayonets to support them. A ragged volley erupted from the line, and then the rousing bugle call returned. Dawn briefed a sigh of relief. The battalion had just stopped to return fire before finishing the advance.

“Now’s our chance to cross that dead space, ma’am,” said Crag, the keen pegasus noting the increase in fire from the Boerperds that suggested their renewed focus on the main battalion. Dawn nodded and motioned to the rest of her skirmishers. They broke into a gallop, covering the distance in less than fifteen seconds, although Dawn thought it felt like fifteen minutes. Safely on the other side, the lieutenant began giving orders. She had studied this section of her manual.

“Deploy as skirmishers, open order. When you reach the top of the ridge, fifteen rounds independent fire, advance ten lengths, then resume independent fire until Cornet Star deploys. Let’s go!” The soldiers climbed up the path, gripping their rifle bits closely. The skirmishers had studied, too, each moving in sync with their partner in movements that had been rehearsed in exercises countless times. Skirmishers within the Equestrian Army were carefully chosen for their ability to operate with initiative and creativity in such fighting pairs. Dawn noted that Crag and Applesnack were one of the pairs. She hoped these ponies would prove to be no exception to the reputation.

As soon as the first skirmishers cleared the crest they went to ground, taking advantage of what cover they could find. Most removed their rifles from their harness and took the weapon in their hooves, laying it the ground in front of them as they sat or went prone. The rifles, unlike the old breech-loaders, were designed to be fired in any number of positions due to the freedom of movement built into the bit. Dawn figured her ponies must have learned the trick when the unit had rotated through a series of exercises designed to introduce the operation and tactics associated with the weapon change.

The first shots rang out across the ridge, followed quickly by a rapid staccato as ponies operated the bolts with practiced speed. Despite the pace, Dawn could see that each shot was well aimed, bullets finding homes in the crouched ponies that lined the ditch. She saw one Boerperd spin around, a look of surprise and confusion on his face as he crumbled. She felt a pang of pity for the ponies. Her bowels echoed a different sentiment.

The Boerperds had caught on to the flank attack, shifting in their ditch to find new cover that protected them from the threat. Crag saw the movement and corresponding lull in fire. He turned to Applesnack, who grunted in return and ran forward to take a new position while Crag scanned for anypony targeting him. He sighted one aiming towards his partner then loosed a shot, downing a chestnut stallion whose chest darkened red as he fell.

“I see your eyes are still sharp as a colt, old pony,” Applesnack roared at his partner as he took cover in his new position.

“Wouldn’t have to use ‘em as much if you weren’t such a big target,” Crag laughed back. He pushed a several fresh rounds into the rifle’s magazine and then closed the bolt, seeking new targets. Targets, Dawn observed, that were getting harder to spot. The enemy had finished their movements and were now well concealed yet again. The return fire intensified, bullets finding their way to kick up the dirt next to Dawn. She flinched, covering her head with her hooves. Two more minutes of this and her little skirmishing party would be forced back. She looked behind her, trying to plan out the best route of escape.

The sound of Ditty’s bugle stopped her planning efforts. The main body of the detachment cleared the crest, ponies running forward to evolve the column into three extended lines. They crouched down and brought their rifles up to the ready position. Behind them, Star held her saber aloft, smiling while she saluted her lieutenant. Now the real fighting could begin.

Lieutenant Colonel F. D. Simmer was not happy. He paced around the top of the knoll he and his staff occupied. The battle should be won by now. The Boerperds were nothing but a bunch of stinking farmers, no match for the disciplined soldiers of the North Equus. He had chosen his finest uniform to wear for the battle, completed with all of the gold and gemstone trappings his rank entitled him to, plus a few accessories he thought he should be. Now it and the rest of his fur were covered in a thin layer of dust kicked up in the process of the colonel’s display of displeasure. His magic wrapped around his telescope as he brought it up for the tenth time in the last two minutes, then slammed it shut again.

“Dammit, Bolt, I thought your messenger delivered the order to charge thirty minutes ago. The field would be ours if your damned pegasi could actually fly.”

The earth pony major remained calm, indifferent to his commander’s tantrum. He knew that the order had been delivered and that the colonel himself had only given the order fifteen minutes ago.

“Sir, the Boerperds possess a strong position. It will take time for our soldiers to dislodge them. But the victory will soon be yours, sir.” Major Bolt knew the victory would come sooner if Colonel Simmer had not been so insistent on following the outdated drill manual. Or on launching a frontal assault instead of exploiting the geography of the land for tactical solutions to force the enemy off their ridge. But Bolt had not reached his current position as executive officer of the 2nd battalion, North Equus Regiment of Hoof by being a fool. So, he held his tongue and let his overstuffed commander enjoy his little battle.

“And where the hell are those damned rifles and cartridges? I thought they were supposed to be here yesterday!” For once Bolt shared Colonel Simmer’s frustration. The advanced weapons would have put them on the same level technologically with the Boerperds, while the training and tactics of the Equestrians would have made easier work of the farmers. Bolt was about to create a flattering excuse when he sighted the approaching wagons.

“Actually, sir, they are right here,” he said. He watched as a young silver unicorn and large red stallion trotted up the hill to the group of officers.

“Cornet Ribbon Belle, reporting as ordered, sir. I have brought the ponies and supplies from Ponyville,” Belle panted as she saluted. Big Mac also rendered a salute.

“Cornet Belle, welcome back to the North Equus. I trust your trip went well?” Colonel Simmer greeted the cornet. Major Bolt offered a weak smile which faded as he started counting ponies next to the wagons.

“Well, sir,” started Belle, “I am not sure where to begin.”

“Perhaps you can start by telling me why there are only ten ponies here. Where are the rest of your soldiers, cornet?” Bolt interrupted.

Belle kept her voice confident as she replied. “That is the thing, sir. The new lieutenant is out of control. First, she refused to load enough coal on the train in Ponyville, then insisted we march on hoof from the Crystal Empire. And when we stopped there, she let everypony loose in the city to get drunk. I even saw her fraternizing with common soldiers!” Colonel Simmer shook his head in disgust. Big Mac threw his ears back and glared at Belle. “And now, sir, she has taken the detachment and led them on her own personal mission. I tried to stop her, sir, remind her that our duty was to report straight to you. But she wouldn’t listen, sir.”

Major Bolt had taken his telescope out while the cornet shared her tale and trained it on the ridgeline. He sighted Lieutenant Dawn’s detachment making progress on the Boerperd’s flank. The lieutenant had guts, and brains, Bolt concluded. A rare combination.

Colonel Simmer had also spotted the lieutenant’s position through his telescope. “By Celestia,” he murmured. “What the hell does she think she’s doing? She’s going to ruin the whole battle!” Major Bolt hoped, for her sake and the battalion’s, that his commander was wrong.

The sound of rapid fire from her detachment’s rifles was louder than Dawn had imagined. As soon as Star deployed on the crest Dawn ordered the skirmishers withdrawn, forming them up on the flanks while she took her place in the center of the formation.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” said Star, her silken voice barely covering her anxiety over the din. She kept her saber floating next to her, waving it about like she imagined an officer in battle should. Dawn was impressed by the noise but not the effect their fire seemed to be having on the enemy, who remained well concealed. Through her telescope Dawn could see that very few rounds actually made it to the ditch to kick up dirt like see had seen the Boerperd’s fire do. Her ponies were not even hitting the ground next to them.

“Take your time, aim low!” Dawn shouted across the line. “The bastards are in the dirt, not the sky.” She loaded a hoof-full of rounds into her own rifle and lined up the figure of a yellow mare in the sights to demonstrate, then squeezed the bit as her weapon discharged and rammed the belts supporting it into her back. She smiled when she saw her shot and her words take effect as the mare and other figures began to crumble around the ditch.

Then she stopped. She was killing ponies. Ponies who called this place home. And not just with her orders, but with her own hooves. The sinking feeling in her gut returned. She turned her back on the battle, spreading her forelegs to brace herself.

“Lieutenant, I think you better see this,” Star shouted back. Dawn collected herself and returned to her post, pulling the telescope up to her eye as she did. The battalion had appeared on the crest of the ridge, bayonets leveled and colors flapping. She could see the officers open their mouths then drop their sabers forward. The whole line broke into a canter then a gallop after five strides. Dawn heard the shouts and bugles half a second later.

“Detachment, cease fire!” Dawn commanded, Ditty blowing the repeated short-long note pattern that corresponded to the order. Their work was done, but just to be safe she ordered the ponies to fix bayonets. Each pony reached back to their flank and pulled the eighteen inch blade out from its scabbard, attaching it to the matching slots on the end of their rifles. They then returned the rifle to the ready position, awaiting the order of “charge, bayonets” that would level the blade in front of them.

The lines of red had pushed back the first group of Boerperds. The colors stood defiantly on the crest. Dawn felt a wave of pride for the symbols of the beloved Princesses which was further amplified by the cheer that erupted among her ponies. The bayonets carried over the ditch, pushing through the bush down the other side of the ridge in pursuit of the fleeing ponies. And then the cheering stopped, replaced by a renewed fury of rifle fire.

Shit, shit, shit! The Boerperds had a secondary position on the reverse slope and were now pouring all they had into the red-clad soldiers at point-blank range. The battalion’s advance collapsed. Dawn’s elation turned to horror as she watched the companies break then melt away into streams of refugees sprinting down the ridge. The Boerperds were close on their tail, firing wildly into the fleeing mass. The call to retreat was cut short as a bullet lodged itself in the bugler’s throat.

A determined group of soldiers clustered around the colors, stabbing and clubbing to keep the enemy from reaching the precious blue and white silks. Their efforts were in vain. The colors fell and were snatched by a ragged group of Boerperds who carried it triumphantly down the slope. Dawn was furious, but she also noted that the enemy had forgotten about her little detachment. Now was the time.

“Detachment, magazine, independent, FIRE!” The sudden hail of rifle bullets caught the pursuers off guard, downing half the ponies in the initial volley. Some scrambled for cover to return fire, but most, realizing they had done enough, left the fleeing Equestrians alone and scurried down the ridge with their prize. Her action had bought the battalion time, but she knew that the enemy could regroup and force her off the ridge.

“Cease fire! Skirmishers, FORWARD!” Dawn yelled then turned to face the unicorn officer. “Cornet Star, lead the retreat!” The cornet complied, rapidly forming the ponies back into an orderly column and away from the ridge. Dawn rushed forward with the rest of the skirmishers, taking a position next to Crag. He turned an ear to acknowledge her but continued to stare down his rifle.

“Strange battle, Applesnack. I ain’t never seen nothing like it,” he commented as Dawn hit the dirt next to him. She was puzzled by the pegasus’s observation, but then again, this was her first time in action.

“Humor me,” Applesnack replied between his rifle shots. Dawn was interested too, perking up her ears. She had not had time to notice much between giving orders and the chaos and the killing.

“For one, how was the enemy so well equipped. These rifle designs are only a year old, and even then, the factories just started full production a few moons ago. How is it that poor farmers in this goddess-forsaken place have access to that sort of weapon when we’ve just started equipping own units with them?”

The logic scared Dawn. In Equestria, firearms were not common, reserved for the military and only then issued for training or deployment. There were barely enough of the old muzzle- and breech-loaders to equip every regiment, let alone the newer bolt-action designs.”

“How do you think they got access to them?” Dawn asked, thinking aloud.

“I think somepony gave them to them, Crag” Applesnack said dryly while he cleared his bolt, not noticing the different voice. “Probably the same pony who told them we were coming. A position like that doesn’t just appear – it has to be planned and built in advance.”

The battlefield looked even grislier when Dawn considered the possibility that somepony had orchestrated the slaughter. She had a lot of questions which she didn’t know if she wanted answered.

Chapter 6

The march to camp had been agonizing. The sun was merciless, beating down on Dawn’s tired soldiers as they dragged themselves along the path that barely constituted a road; it was little more than a dirt trail that cut through the bush. The march was made worse by the dust.

Dawn’s detachment had managed to retire from the field in good order and was thus ahead of the main battalion which had taken an hour of officers’ swearing and sergeants’ threats to corral into a column back to camp. Lieutenant Colonel Simmer’s staff and the wagons, though, were a quarter mile up the road and the source of the miserable cloud. Although the misery that engulfed the red-clad ponies was not the sun or the dust. It was the realization that they had lost the battle. That they had lost friends. That they had lost the Princesses’ Colors and along with them their spirit.

It was early evening when the ragged column reached camp. Already smoke rose from fires in front of the rows of white tents that belonged to the one company of the battalion that had stayed in camp. The ponies looked up from their cooking with confusion and concern as the refugees marched past.

Dawn halted her detachment just past the first row of tents, ordering a left face so she could look her ponies in the eye. She paused, then took a breath and addressed them. “Nopony can deny that today was hard. But each of you did your duty today and I couldn’t have asked for more. It was my honor to lead you these past days. May the light of Celestia shine favorably upon you.” Dawn tried to hide the emotion in her voice. These ponies had been her first command, and likely her last after today. “On the command of fall-out, report-in to your company commanders. Dismissed!”

Star walked up to Dawn as the soldiers drifted into the rows of tents in search of their officers and food. Her expression became somber as she noticed the lieutenant’s drooping ears. “Are you alright, ma’am? You said it yourself, everypony did their best, right?” Dawn forced her ears up to reassure the young cornet.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired. You did good today, Star. The way you handled your ponies was about as close to the manual as I’ve seen.” And you even smiled while doing it, Dawn added silently to herself. “You have the makings of a fine officer.”

Star beamed under the praise. Dawn felt a genuine smile which was quickly put away as Major Bolt trotted up to the pair. “Ah, there you are, good evening to you both,” he said as he returned their salutes. “You must be our new arrival from Ponyville,” he said, addressing Dawn.

“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Dawn Glean,” she replied, offering her hoof to the major.

“It is nice to finally meet you, lieutenant. You come well recommended,” Part of Dawn wondered if she blushed and the other part searched for sarcasm in the major’s voice. “If both of you care to freshen up, you’re welcome to join us in the mess for a proper welcome. Oh, and Lieutenant Glean, we are still working out rosters after, erm, today, so I will give you your assignment after … um …dinner.”

Star raised an eyebrow to Dawn as the major trotted off towards the center of camp. Dawn simply shrugged. She did not want to think about what Bolt’s statement meant. Instead she walked towards the wagon park to retrieve her trunk. Looking at her watch, she had an hour before dinner to set up her tent, brush her coat, prepare her uniform, and then report to the mess.

She was glad she did not have to account for time spent looking for her trunk, since the civilian wagons she had hired in the Crystal Empire stood out against the neat rows of grey painted military wagons. Each bore a stencil of “2.N.E.” and the wagon’s number on the sides along with the sun and moon crest of Equestria painted on the canvas cover. Her trunk was next to a military wagon whose sun and moon had been personified by somepony into a questionable tea party. It appeared the moon had a sensuous craving for oat-tack based on the epitaph scribbled next to it. Dawn pulled the trunk out of the wagon and began to reach for a strap from her saddlebag to secure it on her back when Big Mac peeked his head around the vandalized wagon.

“Mind if I help you, ma’am?” His deep voice and accent were oddly soothing to Dawn.

“Sergeant Big Mac, how nice to see you. Sure.” Dawn greeted him, spitting the leather strap out of her mouth. She had nearly forgotten that the red stallion was a part of her former detachment. She noted he was still wearing the tunic she had given him before the pass. “I am sorry I dragged you into this mess. I asked too much of you.”

“Nah, I don’t mind t’ help when a pony needs it. ‘Sides, I been thinkin’ ‘bout what you said, ‘bout bein’ a leader. After seein’ what you did today, I reckon what you said must be true. I’ve just never seen it in myself until then.” Dawn felt a warmth in her face. She looked for the right words to say, but Big Mac found his own first. “Major Bolt offered me a temporary posting to active duty for a moon. I accepted.” The feeling of guilt returned.

“But what about your apple farm?” she asked while securing the trunk to Big Mac’s back.

“It’s still two moons ‘till applebuckin’ season. An’ the extra bits from my service will help me buy some new equipment. I can’t stand that ole plow no more.”

“And your family? How will they manage while you’re gone?” Dawn finished the last buckle and the pair started walking towards the center of camp.

“My sister pretty much runs the place, an’ Apple Bloom ‘as gotten much older an’ can take over when A.J. is not there.”

Big Mac’s reassurances comforted Dawn, yet she still could not shake the responsibility she felt for his decision. She looked into the stallion’s eyes as they walked. The evening sun here still created the same twinkle of gaiety and innocence that she had seen in Big Mac in Ponyville. Innocence she felt she had lost today. He did not belong here. And neither do you, the little pony in her head told her.

She shook her head and then pointed a hoof at a vacant spot in the row of tents. “You can set the trunk down here.” She undid the straps and began pulling out the canvas and poles for her tent. Big Mac continued to stand over her shoulder. “Thanks for your help, I can handle it from here.”

“There’s, uh, something I need t’ tell you about today. Permission to speak freely, ma’am?” Big mac sounded unusually awkward. Dawn was puzzled by the change in tone.

“You’ve had my permission. But if you’re going to stay, would you mind holding this pole for me?”

Bic Mac obliged while Dawn threw the canvas over and secured the guy lines. “There may be some, ma’am, who don’t think you ought to be here.” Dawn now understood the sergeant’s need for formality.

“I am assuming you mean Cornet Belle?”

“Well, uh, yes, ma’am.” Big Mac stammered. “When we was reportin’ in she lied to Colonel Simmer an’ blamed everything that went wrong on your march up here on you.”

Dawn sighed. “Thank you for your honesty, Sergeant MacIntosh, that will be all.” She returned Big Mac’s salute then watched as he trotted back towards the wagon park.

She pulled her trunk inside the tent and finished setting up. There was a small folding cot which she assembled in the corner, then she folded out the legs and shelves of her trunk that turned it into a compact field desk. A few inkwells and a glass bottle of cider had shattered during the march and soaked through an old copy of Daring Do. The remaining books along with a small mirror remained intact, which Dawn looked into as she sat on the cot and unbuckled her saber and saddlebags. Her eyes followed as she undid each button on her tunic and then slid it off, leaving just her blue fur to reflect back. The pony in the mirror allowed her to think, that for this moment, she was no longer Lieutenant Dawn. That for this moment, as the pony smiled at her, she was happy and carefree. That for this moment, as the pony looked into her eyes, she was allowed to cry. But she was unable.

She broke her trance with a glance at the watch which she had left open on the desk. It indicated fifteen minutes until dinner. Dawn focused on her coat first, pulling a brush out of her saddlebag. She ran it through her mane, straightening the bows that held her braids, then scrubbed away the dirt and sweat marks that had accumulated from two days of marching and fighting. Satisfied, she turned to her tunic and was surprised to see that it was almost as good as the day she had received it. Aside from the dirt and bits of grass which she brushed off, the fabric and stitching betrayed no sign of the last day’s abuse. She made a mental note to thank the seamstress for her work. Lieutenant Dawn pulled on the tunic and fastened her saber.

She grabbed her shako then stepped out of her tent and towards the large wall tent that held the officers’ mess. The camp had become more animated now that stomachs had been filled. Ponies sat around their fires, sharing food, stories, and card games. A few stiffened as Dawn walked past, but most did not notice her between laughing at somepony’s joke or deciding which card to play next. The loudest uproar, though, came from the mess. Dawn paused at the flaps of canvas that were the tent’s doors to straighten her uniform, then stepped inside.

The first sense that hit Dawn when she entered the crowed mess was the smell. The air held notes of whiskey and wine, or so Dawn thought, along with pungent smoke from the cigars several officers puffed on, creating a thin white haze that hung over the clusters of red-uniformed ponies. Dawn duly noted that, with the exception of herself and Major Bolt, everypony in the room was a unicorn. The horde of floating bottles and cigars wrapped in magic was the second bit of evidence to validate her conclusion. In the midst of her staring Major Bolt had sighted her and walked up to give direction to the lost lieutenant.

“Lieutenant Glean, so good to see you. You clean up well,” he said cheerily. Dawn was not sure whether his last sentence was meant as a compliment.

“Dawn, sir.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“I go by Lieutenant Dawn, sir. That’s my surname, and it rolls off the tongue better.”

“So it does, Lieutenant Dawn,” he said with a smile. “My family’s naming is the same way. Except Major Brass is hardly as flattering.” Dawn returned the major’s smile. “As you are still currently unassigned, I will have you sit next to me for dinner. And I believe that is our cue to take our seats,” he said as a bell chimed through the tent.

Dawn took her pace next her seat, then snapped to attention as the mess was called for the entrance of Lieutenant Colonel Simmer. The mess then sang the Equestria national anthem and was seated by Colonel Simmer.

“Good Evening, everypony, and I do say, what a fine evening to dine after having fought so gallantly on the field of battle.” Dawn detected a slight slur in his words. Her colonel was already drunk. “Now then, I believe a toast is in order. To the North Equus!”

“Ah, but wait, sir!” Major Bolt interjected before Simmer could finish. “I believe that some introductions are in order before we can toast as a proper mess.”

“Of course, of course. Well, who are these ponies?”

“Fillies and gentlecolts, may I introduce Cornet Gilt Star and the return of Cornet Ribbon Belle, whom some of you may remember.” Both ponies stood as the other officers acknowledged them. Bolt gave a wink to Dawn, “And Lieutenant Dawn Glean, who led our new arrivals here today.”

“Let’s raise our glasses, then. To the North Equus!” shouted Simmer as everypony floated their glass into the center of the table. All except for Dawn and Bolt.

A cherry-red captain across from Dawn noticed this and raised her voice, “Now I know old Bolt here doesn’t have a magical bone in his body, but aren’t you going to raise your glass, lieutenant?” Dawn figured she must be incredibly drunk to not notice the obvious lack of a horn on her head.

“No, ma’am, I’m afraid as an earth pony I haven’t quite mastered the art of levitation,” Dawn replied, trying to subdue the blood rushing to her cheeks. The remark caught the attention of Colonel Simmer who immediately appeared three drinks soberer.

“What do you mean, a common earth pony? This will not do. All my officers are unicorns!” Dawn wanted to raise the defense that Major Bolt was also an earth pony. She looked at the major for help, but he kept his gaze forward. “Ah yes, I remember you now, lieutenant. Cornet Belle informed me of your character.” Dawn tried to find Belle’s gaze so she could flatten her ears towards her. “An officer who is cozy with the common soldier. And an officer whose actions today, need I remind the mess, lost us the Princesses’ Colors!”

The final accusation caused Dawn’s whole face to burn. “Frankly, sir,” started Dawn, straining her neck against the tension inside her, “I would hardly trust the word of Cornet Belle to judge my character. She is young, naïve, and an obvious liar!” Dawn turned her head to project the last jest toward the cornet.

“Your candor would be commendable, lieutenant, if in fact it was backed by the integrity of a proper officer. But a common earth pony, especially one who loses the Colors, has no place as an officer and, therefore, no place in this mess. Goodnight, ma’am!”

Dawn backpedaled from the table and then ran out of the tent before any other pony could throw another jest at her. The night air outside was pleasant and cool, but that did not ease the burning Dawn felt in her ears. What an impression you made, her little pony said to her. She kicked the ground with her hoof, uprooting a clump of grass. She picked herself up and starting walking back towards her tent, considering her next move. She would need to pack, then perhaps write a letter of apology to Rainbow Dash for her recommendation that got her in this mess. Some things just don’t work out. She made no effort to tame her thoughts.

A shaft of light followed by a single set of hooves came from the tent behind Dawn. She gave a turn of her head to see if the pony had come to ridicule her further. The anger returned as she recognized the pony’s silver coat glisten in the moonlight. Belle. The young unicorn did not see Dawn standing in the shadows, nor notice when she followed her around the backside of the tent. Belle raised her tail and squatted to urinate. Dawn did not even think. She rushed up, turned on her forehand, and kicked the unicorn midstream. Her hoof caught Belle squarely in the eye, causing her to tumble on her side. Dawn shifted her weight for another kick when a third pony tackled her to the ground next to Belle.

“Enough,” said the firm voice of Major Bolt, “not a word out of either of you.” He helped each pony to her hooves then gazed at Belle. “Cornet Belle, go back inside. You had too much to drink and tripped onto a rock. Understood?” The cornet opened her mouth to protest but another gaze from the major closed it. She nodded then walked away. Bolt turned his attention to Dawn. “Don’t be a damn foal, lieutenant. You don’t survive by making enemies. Especially not behind some tent in the middle of the night.”

“But, sir, she lied about me. She ruined my integrity in the face of the regiment. She cost me my career!” Dawn was breathing heavily.

“Dawn, I know she lied. But your actions give you as much to blame for as her.” Dawn winced at what she knew was true. “And besides, your career is in my hooves, not hers or anyone else’s.”

“But Colonel Simmer?”

“The colonel is nothing more than one of those uppity prancer types that give the rest of us a bad name. He commands just because he happened to have enough money and friends in Canterlot to buy this battalion and his command of it. Besides, I am the one who writes the dispatches and determines the unit roster.”

Dawn felt like a little filly. “I am sorry, sir. How do you manage all that, as an earth pony, that is?” she asked, nodding her head back to the mess of unicorn officers.

“Simple. Grapes, cotton, and molasses.” Dawn wore a confused look on her face which Bolt caught. “These are crops that thrive on my family’s plantation due to our talent with machine design. We built our own winepress, threshing machine, stills, you name it, all using the best brass parts.”

“That still doesn’t explain why they don’t look down on you as they do me.”

“It all comes down to knowing their needs. With the wine I keep their spirits warm, the cotton a way to weave everypony together, and of course the occasional dollop of molasses to sweeten things. Earth pony, unicorn, pegasus, it doesn’t matter. Generosity talks.”

“What do I need to do then, sir? And what is my assignment?” Dawn remembered her earlier conversation with the major.

“I am glad you asked. You see, despite the façade you witnessed in there, this regiment is nothing without our Colors. Any dispatch I send to Canterlot would have to be so covered in molasses it may as well be covered in shit. I need those colors back, and you are the pony who is going to do it.”

Dawn made no attempt to hide her surprise. “But, Major Bolt, aren’t I the pony who lost the Colors? What good will sending me do?”

Bolt smiled. “If you bring back those flags, I can redeem you in the mess, perhaps even get you a command. But if you don’t, it will be easier for me to write off your disappearance.” Dawn caught the major’s implication and shivered. “Take a section of twenty ponies. Leave at first light tomorrow morning. This is where you are going.” Bolt pulled out a map and briefed Dawn on the route. She acknowledged the instructions, saluted the major, then trotted off into camp. She was fighting again.

Dawn’s first task was to assemble the ponies for her mission, but she was unsure of where to start. She began by pulling skirmishers from her detachment, but still needed a hoof-full more to reach her quota. The smell of something frying drifted through the camp to remind Dawn that she had left the mess before eating. She let her stomach take over and lead her through camp. Several of the fires had died down, causing the soldiers huddled around them to drape blankets over their backs. Dawn was surprised by how quickly the veldt cooled off at night, the heat of the day seemingly escaping into the cloudless sky of stars above.

Dawn came onto the source of the aroma quickly, coming as she half expected from the trio of ponies from her former detachment. A plaintive tune sounded above the crackle of the fire and sizzling of hay, played by Ditty on what Dawn assumed was an oboe. The little unicorn sat against a petrified log while her horn glowed to press the keys of the instrument. She stopped her playing when she noticed Dawn walking up.

“Lieutenant Dawn! How great to see you!” Ditty exclaimed, floating her instrument back into her tent. Dawn felt empty with the sudden lack of music. Crag appeared from the tent and walked over to sit next to Ditty.

“Evening, lieutenant. What brings you here tonight?”

Dawn started to say the food as her stomach rumbled but caught herself. “I am needing some help for a special mission. Are you ponies up to the task?”

“Why should we help you?” the gruff comment came from Applesnack who was managing the cooking. He pushed his head into the light of the fire as he spoke. His features were drawn, betraying fatigue from the work duty he had been assigned on arriving in camp. Dawn bit her tongue as she remembered ordering the punishment.

“Because I am going to get our colors back,” Dawn stated, trying to let confidence dominate her voice. Applesnack’s expression changed, his ears perking forward. Crag tilted his face in skepticism.

“How do you propose to do that? We don’t even know where they took the flags.”

“Actually, we do,” Dawn said. She pulled out her map and repeated the brief Major Bolt had given her. Applesnack edged closer while the lieutenant was talking. “So, are you in or not?” she asked after finishing.

“Your plan is bold, but we will need to use the land to our advantage. You will need my expertise, so count me in,” said Crag. Dawn turned to look at Applesnack for his response. The stallion held his grim expression for a moment, then let a smile break it.

“I want those colors back. But I want something from you, lieutenant. I am tired of digging trenches for ponies to shit in.”

“Very well, I will take you off of work duty.” Dawn let her own smile match Applesnack’s.

“I want to come, too,” said Ditty, pushing herself from the log. Crag stood up to place his hoof on the unicorn.

“No, Ditty, you should stay back here in camp,” he said as he wrinkled his eyes with worry. Ditty pushed the hoof aside and floated a book from her saddlebags to Dawn. She read the title: The Migration: A History of the Boerperd Settlements. “I picked this up in the Crystal Empire. It talks about all of their customs and cultures. You could use my knowledge if you run into trouble with those ponies.”

The book along with the eagerness in Ditty’s voice impressed Dawn. “No, Crag, I think Ditty should come with us. The land is more than just rocks and plants.” Ditty exploded into a beaming grin. Crag looked resigned but offered a smile in response to Ditty. “We leave at first light tomorrow morning. Good night, everypony.” Dawn started to walk away when Ditty ran in front of her.

“Wait, lieutenant, take some food before you go. You’ve had that hungry look on your face all night.” Ditty floated a greasy sack in front of Dawn, which she grabbed with her mouth. She nodded a thank you to the unicorn then continued walking. The warmth of the fire and food stayed with her until she reached her tent.

She opened the cloth sack and spread the food over her desk. Applesnack had fried the hay ration and covered it with a gravy of ground oats and berries. Dawn ate it without hesitation. Her stomach full, she undressed and curled into her little cot. A single shaft of moonlight peered in her tent, reflecting off the mirror on her desk and filling the interior with a soft light. Dawn stared into the twinkling image of the moon before she could no longer keep her eyes open. Sleep came moments later.

The village was hardly a village, but rather a collection of wood and clay shacks surrounded by rugged farmhouses and fields of rocks, hay, and other crops. Dawn had never seen a village like it, although the agrarian nature gave it a similar air to Ponyville. In the center, where the dirt roads from the farms intersected, ponies had begun gathering, each sporting a wide-brimmed hat and a rifle. Dawn looked from the village to herself, noting that she was also wearing a hat and a drab-colored frock. She had never worn such simple, homespun clothes before. Nor had she ever been yellow. Dawn realized she must be dreaming.

A friendly looking dog came yapping up to the porch Dawn was sitting on. Intuition told her that the dog was hers and probably named Winston. She patted her hoof on the animal’s head and threw a stick from the porch into the fields. The dog darted towards the projectile while wagging his tail. He brought it back a moment later, dropping the stick at her hooves. Dawn picked it up and set it next to a freshly oiled rifle on the porch. She motioned for the dog to jump in her lap then braced herself as the animal licked her face, the wet tongue finding her nose and eyes. Dawn wiped the slobber off and saw that the group of ponies in the village was walking away down the road. She pushed the dog off of her and stood up. She turned her head to buckle her rifle’s harness and sling a bandolier over her neck. Then she picked up the rifle and slid it into the harness. Giving the dog one last pet, she trotted down the porch’s steps and towards the group of ponies marching off. A bit of intuition told Dawn that she was not supposed to be following them, yet she was also curious to see where they were going, and why they were armed.

Dawn kept her distance for most of the trek. The kicked-up dust and her coat color helped her to remain out of sight. The group was trotting towards a long ridge, where already some ponies had begun crouching between rocks and bushes. She reached the foot of the ridge and began climbing up the slope when a chestnut colored stallion stopped her. “This ain’t no place for little fillies. Get out of here,” he scolded.

“I ain’t no filly, just small. Besides, Ma said I should come this time,” Dawn replied. She knew it was lie; she had no mother. The stallion rolled his eyes, seeing through the yellow mare. He gestured to the right side of the ridge.

“Fine. Go take a position over there. Shouldn’t be much action on that side. Keep your head down.” He winked and patted Dawn on her forehead as she continued her climb. She clambered into a ditch that ran along the crest of the ridge and unharnessed her rifle, placing it on the lip of dirt in front of her. She pulled several rounds from her bandolier and loaded the weapon.

In the distance Dawn could see a column of dust rising above lines of red that smudged into the bush. The sound of fifes carried across the Veldt, although Dawn’s ears could not distinguish the tune they played, except that it was called “The Filly I Left Behind Me”. The music was replaced with the sound of bugles as the ponies in red deployed from columns into thin lines that advanced towards the ridge. The ponies next to her on the ridge opened fire. Dawn joined in, pointing her rifle down at the mass of soldiers and operating the bolt. She could feel the percussive crack of each rifle in her ears, their intensity perfectly matching the beating in her chest. She loaded more rounds in the rifle’s magazine and continued firing as fast as she could, the excitement of the battle rushing through her.

Then bullets splattered into the dirt next to her. The chestnut stallion who had winked at her earlier fell next to her. She touched her hoof to his chest only to recoil at the red stickiness that covered it. The shot that felled him came from a line of red-clad ponies that had just appeared to the right of ditch. Another bullet whizzed past, grazing her flank and encouraging her to take cover behind a rock.

Dawn’s excitement was replaced with panic. She was not ready to die. What if she never saw Winston again? And who were these ponies in red? Where did they come from and why?

A round split a chunk off the rock in front her. She came back to the battle, pushing the emotion aside. She pulled her rifle up, looking for a target amongst the new attackers. The group had gotten larger since Dawn last saw it, with a thick line of soldiers extended between the bushes and trees, pouring fire into the ditch. Dawn sighted what looked like an officer, a cream unicorn with gold trim on her uniform that was waving a saber. She lined the figure in her sights.

Wait, that’s Cornet Star! Dawn recognized the officer. She hesitated. Then she felt a hard blow in her chest that knocked her down. The dirt felt oddly warm and wet. She looked down and saw that her yellow fur was slowly darkening with red. She had been shot. She looked back towards the officer. She was still waving her saber, and next to her another blue-colored officer smiled, the muzzle of her rifle still smoking.

The world around Dawn went silent aside from a constant ringing. Her eyes felt heavy, but she fought to keep them open and fixed on the blue pony. She was not supposed to be here. She was not supposed to die here. And she felt guilty for having lied to get here.

The blue pony lifted her head from the rifle, revealing a pair of sparkling orange eyes set above a face that no longer smiled. I am the pony who killed me! The realization slammed into Dawn as she could no longer keep her eyes open, succumbing to a swirling blackness. She tried to cry out, but the words would not come. She flailed her legs, trying to find purchase in the world around her. She was falling. And it was her fault. She hated herself, she hated what she had done, she hated that she could not stop it.

Then everything stopped. Dawn opened her eyes to find she was lying on a hill of soft grass, the wet dew cool and refreshing against her fur. She licked at the moisture, but it tasted salty in her mouth. The hillside was lit up by the moon, its light shining on a dark figure that approached in front of Dawn. The pony was beautiful, her dark blue fur matched with a flowing mane that shimmered around her horn as if it was full of stars. The pony said nothing, but simply looked at Dawn with wet eyes that bespoke of sadness. And somehow, it was a sadness that Dawn understood. She tried to get up to talk to the pony, but her legs proved to weak. She had so much to ask, so much she wanted to understand. But as she struggled to come to her hooves, the pony gave her a smile then spread her wings to leave as quickly as she had come. Dawn opened her mouth, but her throat was still clinched tightly. She found her strength and galloped towards the pony. But the pony was gone, and she was galloping into a blinding, overwhelming light.

Chapter 7

Dawn woke up in her cot drenched in sweat. Her tent was bathed with light from the morning sun, a portion which peeked through the slit in the tent flap and reflected off the desk’s mirror into Dawn’s eyes. She groaned as she sat up and pulled a stool up to her desk. Her mane was a mess and fur matted. She felt exhausted, with the bits she vaguely felt from her dream reminding her that the morning was chilly. She shivered. She brushed what she could of her coat, braided her mane, and then slipped her tunic on. The wool was familiar and warm. Dawn buckled her saber and saddlebag then step outside her tent to where Cornet Star was waiting, a cup of hot tea floating next to her.

“Good morning, Dawn! I made you some ...” Dawn quickly accepted the mug and drank greedily. “I am sorry about what happened last night,” Star said, casting her eyes downward.

“Don’t be. What happened is in the past. And I’ve moved past it.” Dawn felt better with Star’s words, and tea, but knew she still had not overcome yesterday’s failure. Not yet. She wanted to be positive for the young cornet, though. “Thank you for the tea, Star. It’s the perfect thing to warm me up on this chilly morning. Now then, I have some duties for the major to attend to, if you’ll excuse me.”

Dawn trotted towards the outskirts of camp where her section of ponies was waiting. Dawn was surprised to see that they were already in formation awaiting inspection. She was more surprised to see Sergeant Bic Mac standing in front of them. He saluted as the lieutenant trotted up to him.

“All present and ready for orders, ma’am,” Big Mac said. Dawn returned the salute while trying to keep her confusion from breaking her composure.

“Sergeant Macintosh, I don’t recall asking you on this mission.”

“Major Bolt assigned me late last night, ma’am. Seems you neglected t’ include an NCO in the roster you submitted.” Dawn did not remember submitting a roster to the major. Then again, she did not remember much from the previous night either.

“Very well. Fall into the section.” Big Mac saluted then stepped back and marched to take his place in the section. Dawn walked through the ranks, carefully inspecting the mechanisms of each rifle as well as the ponies’ equipment. Satisfied, she returned to the front of the formation and commanded, “At ease.” The soldiers relaxed. “Good morning, everypony. Today’s mission is of the utmost importance. I have chosen each and every one of you because I believe you have the right stuff. Our route of march takes us deep into unfriendly territory. I expect everypony to be on their guard. Watch out for each other.”

Dawn looked into each ponies’ eyes as she spoke. They looked back at her with steely determination. “Right then. Section Atten-SHUN! Right, FACE! At the trot, forward, MARCH!” The ponies moved in sync with the lieutenant’s orders, smartly marching out of camp and into the veldt to the sound of clopping hooves and clanking canteens and bayonet scabbards.

The first several miles of the march were familiar, taking Dawn and her section along the same route of retreat they had traversed the previous day. Last night, Major Bolt had briefed her that starting at the old battlefield would give her the best chance of finding where the Boerperds took the colors, since they likely arrived at the ridge from multiple villages but retreated together to one in the confusion to flee the battle. Identifying the direction they took would give Dawn the best chance of finding the colors without having to search every other village in the area. She hoped that they would find them in the village closest to the battlefield, a settlement by the name of Paardenburg on her map. The other villages were more than a day’s march from each other. Although Dawn had her ponies issued double the standard three days ration, the longer they were on the veldt the more likely their section would be captured or killed. Or simply forgotten.

The sun moved to halfway in the center of the sky, baking the open expanse of bush and the ponies trotting through it, sweat darkening spots on their red tunics. The sky was perfectly cloudless, a solid dome of blue except for the black dots that circled the ridgeline of the old battlefield.

“Vultures, ma’am,” Crag said as he looked up into the sky next to Dawn. “I bet you they’re getting fat.” Dawn grimaced at the barbarity of the image. The ponies pressed on, passing what had been the battalion’s initial position when the Boerperds opened fire. The lifeless lumps in red formed a straight line through the bush. Dawn was disgusted. The corpses, left in the open air, had bloated into unrecognizable forms. The smell was even worse. Saddle packs, shakos, and a few rifles and bayonets littered the main road, dropped by ponies intent on leaving the battlefield with haste. Dawn hoped the battalion was sending a burial party to clean up the mess. These ponies deserved better.

Dawn led her section up to the crest of the ridge using the same path she had discovered the previous day. The scene was very much as she remembered it, with corpses slumped in the ditch indicating those unfortunate ponies who had been left behind. Dawn spread her soldiers out from the column and instructed them to scan the ridge for traces of the Boerperd’s retreat. She had Crag and one other pegasus fly over to keep watch as they searched.

The ponies scurried through the loose dirt and rock, eyes focused on the tell-tale signs of discarded equipment and broken branches that would indicate movement. However, Applesnack, Dawn noticed, was not looking for clues in the bush but rather inspecting a rifle leaned against a shattered rock. Dawn walked over to the green stallion and raised a stern eyebrow. “Private Applesnack, you seem rather taken by the enemy’s equipment. What about that rifle is so interesting?”

“Take a look for yourself, ma’am,” he replied, shoving the weapon into Dawn’s hooves. She let her eyes follow the intricate striped pattern in the grain of the wooden stock. The zig-zag pattern of alternating light and dark wood gave the weapon an exotic feel. The bolt mechanism, though, was an almost exact copy of the bolts on the rifles Dawn’s soldiers carried. Dawn checked that the weapon was cleared then operated the bolt. If anything, she concluded based on the smoothness of the mechanism, it was an improvement upon the Equestrian design. Dawn handed the rifle back to Applesnack, her expression conveying her understanding to the stallion.

“You see, ma’am, simple farmers don’t just own weapons like these. And I’ve never seen a wood pattern like that. The bolt sure looks Equestrian, but that wood is definitely foreign.”

“How do you think they got them?” Dawn asked. Applesnack growled.

“I’m not sure, ma’am. But I am even less sure of why this particular rifle ended up in the hands of a little filly.” Applesnack stepped aside to reveal a yellow filly, just barely a mare, slumped behind the rock. Dawn winced.

“Luna fucking wept,” she could not resist the oath as both her recollection of her dream and the day before flooded back. Her heart ached for the mare she had killed as she looked over the yellow fur. Her blue mane was caked with dirt and blood, although her hat remained firmly place on her head. Dawn sat down next to the filly. She lifted her hoof and placed it on the pony’s cheek to caress it. The corpse stirred. Dawn backpedaled in horror. The filly was still alive. She opened her eyes which frantically took in the scene around her, then closed again. Her side rose and fell in small, ragged motions.

Applesnack left the lieutenant for a moment and came back with Ditty. Common sense returned to Dawn as she remembered that musicians were also trained as the army’s first line medical ponies. “Single bullet wound to the chest. And she has likely lost a lot of blood,” Dawn told the unicorn as she arrived. Ditty went to work, pulling bandages out of her pack and unscrewing her canteen along with several vials of potions Dawn was unfamiliar with. The unicorn’s horn glowed as she wetted a rag and cleaned the dried blood away before applying a drop of the potion followed by the bandages. She poured another vial along with the remainder of her canteen into the filly’s mouth and eyes.

“This will stabilize her,” Ditty said,” but she needs to get the bullet removed before infection sets in. And the blood transfusion potion I gave her will only last so long.” Dawn nodded, then looked back towards the filly. Her eyes were open again, pretty blue eyes that stared softly into Dawn’s orange ones. She tried to open her mouth to say something, but no sounds came out. Dawn thought the filly mouthed something that started with an “m” and “c” sound.

“Quiet now, you’re going to be alright,” she said.

“Lieutenant, we have visitors,” Crag reported as he landed next to Dawn. “Group of about ten coming from the northwest road. They don’t look armed, but I reckon they’ve already seen us.”

Dawn fumbled with her thoughts on receiving the news. If the Boerperds suspected her section and its mission, then reported that back to one of the villages, it would only be a matter of time before they met her little group in force. The possibility that they had already been sighted meant Dawn could not just hide her ponies. They needed a reason to be here. Dawn looked over the battlefield and found an idea.

“Sergeant MacIntosh,” she shouted. The red stallion came cantering up to stand next to the lieutenant. “Take fifteen ponies and start collecting our dead for burial. Start with the initial deployment area. Keep the ponies busy and try to keep them from looking up at the ridge. We are no longer the only ones out here.” Dawn hated assigning the dirty work to her ponies, especially with only a handful of small entrenching shovels between them. But she also knew it was the proper thing to do, and it might just fool the Boerperds about her actual intentions here.

“Ditty, Applesnack, grab the filly and bring her with us. Crag, keep an eye out while we move then join us by the spur. I want to keep a close watch on these ponies. Maybe they will lead us to where the colors are.”

Dawn watched her ponies move to execute her orders. Big Mac selected his crew then led them down the slope of the ridge. They unfolded the small shovels and began digging. Dawn and the remaining ponies took positions under the cover of the spur while Ditty and Applesnack set the filly down next to one of the few trees. She had lost consciousness again. Ditty place a hoof on the filly’s neck, then nodded with a smile to Dawn to assuage the worried look on her lieutenant’s face.

The Boerperds arrived on the ridge several minutes later. They were unarmed but carried several shovels in a wagon one of them pulled. Dawn pulled out her telescope and watched them dig. A few of them turned to look at Big Mac’s digging party, but otherwise seemed uninterested. Dawn breathed a sigh of relief. She also noted, with curiosity, that the Boerperd ponies were taking the time to dig individual graves rather than the mass sites prescribed by Equestrian service manuals. Ditty apparently noticed her puzzled expression.

“The Boerperds do not believe in the same idea of harmony that we do,” Ditty explained. “According to the earliest sources in my book, they split from the earth pony tribe during the Windigo Blizzard but before the unification of tribes that created Equestria. They believed that true harmony was that which the individual must find within themself. To them, independence and freedom are the keys to creating peace for them and their community.” Ditty’s speech was animated; she had been reading all night to learn that knowledge for the mission.

Knowledge which helped Dawn understand the reality of the current conflict. For a thousand years, the frozen landscape that had hidden the Crystal Empire had also barred entrance into the veldt the Boerperds called home. But this independence had been threatened when the Crystal Empire reemerged and claimed the territory, which despite being arid was rich in mineral resources. The influx of crystal ponies and the new mines they built disrupted the balance centuries of isolation had fostered, leading to violence as the only apparent response. Which was why Lieutenant Dawn and her soldiers were lying face down in a bush on a ridge hundreds of miles from Equestria, watching farmers through dirt over the slain bodies of their own.

Dawn watched the ponies for several more hours, the sun arching through the sky to change the direction of the shadows the diggers cast. The burning in her hind legs made Dawn regret not moving as she lay there. She winced and shifted to look down the road where Big Mac’s ponies had finished their work and were now collecting equipment from the road. A burial party had never arrived from the battalion, but Dawn’s disappointment was mixed with relief that her ruse had not been foiled.

“That looks like the last one,” Ditty said into her ear. The Boerperds threw a shovelful of dirt over a grave and then loaded their equipment onto the wagon. Dawn followed the group with her telescope as they trundled back down the ridge and towards a crossroads. They turned northwest. Dawn thanked the goddesses and pulled herself out of the bush. She brushed the dust off her tunic then started giving orders.

“Crag, fly back to Big Mac and have him rejoin us. We have our destination.” Lieutenant Dawn was coming to Paardenburg.

“Princess Celestia?” The voice, following a quiet knock on the pair of large wooden doors, echoed between the room’s marble columns and arched ceiling. Princess Luna looked up from the scroll she was reading by the last rays of evening light that peered in from the windows behind her. She yawned then addressed the caller. “Come in, Twilight.” The purple unicorn’s eyes widened when she saw the dark blue pony sitting across the room as the doors opened.

“I’m sorry, Princess Luna, I thought Princess Celestia might still be here,” Twilight said as she approached the throne and bowed.

“My sister left early this morning for the Zebra capital. What is it I can help you with?” Luna asked.

“Well, it’s about the briefing a couple of days ago. It’s just, me and the girls really want to play our part, and I think you could use all that we’ve learned about friendship,” Twilight pleaded. Luna’s eyes softened but she kept her mouth firm.

“Twilight, I understand why you are eager to help. You and your friends have a powerful magic together that can solve so many things. But we have made our decision because it is what we believe is best.” Luna sighed. “Equestria is not the same as it was before my return, or even since then. It is bigger and so much more complicated than I remember. I am afraid you and your friends are too few to handle all of the problems we face.”

Twilight nodded but continued her plea. “What if those ponies are hurt? Or the zebras? Or our own soldiers? Wouldn’t it be better if the Elements could prevent that?”

Luna looked away from Twilight. She wiped a tear from her eye then turned back. “Ponies die every day, Twilight. But it is our duty to make sure those deaths mean something. We honor them and we carry on the ideas of harmony they stood for.”

“Then surely there is some way we can help.”

Luna smiled, hoping to hide the melancholy she felt. She thought of an idea that made the smile more sincere. “Perhaps there is something you can help Equestria with,” Luna began. Twilight perked her ears up instantly.

“Anything, Princess. We are ready for any test.”

“What do you know about the Boerperds?” Twilight’s blank look gave Luna her answer.

“Nothing really,” said Twilight, her cheeks reddening. “But I think I have a book on them in my library. I will read through it tonight!”

Luna chuckled. “Do so, Twilight. You need to know that the Boerperds are fiercely independent, but they still cherish harmony albeit a variation of it.”

“What do you need us to do, princess?” Twilight’s horn glowed as she floated out a notepad and quill.

“I want you and the Elements to go visit the Boerperds. I dispatched a battalion there a week ago after several mines were raided. But it appears the battalion’s commander has only stirred up more trouble. The Boerperds have been isolated for a long time, but I believe you and the Elements can convince them that Equestria only wants to be friends. It is vital that you succeed; the diamonds and saltpeter from those mines are vital to our economy.”

“Thank you, Princess Luna. I promise you we won’t fail.” Twilight was ecstatic.

“I will have a train ready for you in the morning to take you to the battalion’s camp. I am also sending my own regiment, the 2nd Dragoon Guards. They are only there to relieve the battalion currently there and provide protection for you. When you arrive in the camp report to Major Brass Bolt. He will give you details on everything you need to know.”

“Oh, thank you! Goodnight, Princess Luna.” Twilight bowed and turned to walk out of the room.

“Oh, wait, Twilight,” Luna said, a tinge of emotion coming through her voice. “Can you send Spike in.”

“Sure,” said Twilight, her head tilted slightly.

“Thank you, and sleep well, Twilight,” Luna said as Twilight walked out. She levitated a small writing desk along with paper and ink to her chair. The words to her letter came quickly, the product of a day’s worth of rumination. A tear rolled onto the paper, smudging a block of words. Luna considered rewriting the letter but was cut short as Spike entered the room. Luna rolled the letter and sealed it. She also stamped “confidential” along the top then handed it to the dragon. “Send this to Princess Celestia. If she sends a response back through you it must be forwarded directly to me as soon as possible.” Luna watched the dragon engulf her letter in green flame then leave after Twilight. She then got up from her chair and walked to a balcony to watch her sister lower the sun. And to do her part to raise the moon.

Small bits of moonlight lit up the floor of the canyon Lieutenant Dawn and her ponies were marching through. Dawn had kept her section several miles behind the Boerperd work party, relying on the pegasi to keep her aware of the party’s actions. They trekked straight back to their village, paying no mind to the Equestrians tailing them. The yellow mare had woken up halfway through the march. She was chatty, but her voice was still weak from the stress she had endured. Dawn could not muster the courage to talk to the mare since she awoke, but Ditty managed to carry a conversation with her for several hours and relay useful information to Dawn.

The mare said she was a barley farmer from Paardenburg where she lived alone with her dog. She had also told Ditty about the canyon Dawn now led her soldiers through in order to cover their approach to the village. Dawn was surprised at the helpfulness of the mare, which did not lessen the guilt she felt for what she was about to do to her village.

“That’s a sweet filly,” Big Mac said coming beside Dawn. She said nothing, her mind focusing on her duty to ease the ache of her heart. “Shame she’s in this mess.”

“We’re going to get her home, that’s what matters. Right?” Dawn said, longing to believe it was true. Big Mac turned an ear at the inflection.

“You don’t seem so certain, ma’am.” Dawn sighed.

“I just can’t seem to justify saving this pony’s life when I am about to take the lives of her neighbors. And for what? To get back a piece of silk?” Dawn looked away from Big Mac. “But to do so is my duty. I made an oath, and that I have to keep.”

Big Mac pondered for several moments, then spoke, “Y’know, we had a bat problem on the farm many seasons back. They was nasty things, sucked all our trees dry.”

Dawn’s eye caught a narrow path that wound its way up the canyon’s precipice while her mind wondered where Big Mac’s story was leading. She motioned for him to follow her up to the top with a quick turn of her head. The path was steep, but Big Mac continued unabated. “As farmers, it was our duty t’ protect our trees for our family, and that meant gettin’ rid of the bats.”

Dawn plopped down at the top of canyon and reached for her telescope. “But,” said Bic Mac as he sat down next to Dawn, “Fluttershy told us that we couldn’t, ‘cause those bats had families, too.” Dawn remembered the yellow and pink pegasus from Ponyville. She had always seemed so sweet and gentle whenever Dawn ran into her at the edge of the Everfree forest. Dawn adjusted the lens on her telescope and trained it on the distant village. The remanences brought about by Big Mac’s story caused Dawn to think of how similar the village seemed to Ponyville. Despite the stark differences the crude structures had with the neat architecture of Ponyville, Dawn could still imagine ponies trotting about in the village, exchanging goods in the marketplace and living their lives. It only made her feel worse.

“So you got rid of the bats?” Dawn asked.

“Nope,” replied Big Mac. Dawn was confused. “Well, it’s sort of a long story. We tried t’ get rid of ‘em, but then Fluttershy became a bat, an’ it just got worse.”

“I see, sounds rather complicated,” Dawn said.

“Ayep. It was then we decided getting’ rid of ‘em wasn’t goin’ t’ work. So we moved ‘em an’ gave ‘em their own orchard. Been doin’ great ever since, especially since they help the seeds t’ grow better. Sometimes what you first see ain’t the real truth.” Dawn pondered the moral of the story while she looked once again at the village of Paardenburg. She noticed how all of the outlying farmsteads led to the center of the village, arranged like spokes on a wheel. She had an idea.

“Thanks for sharing that, Big Mac. Now then, let’s get down from here and do our duty.” The pair navigated the path back down to the canyon floor. Dawn stepped on a rock, wincing from the sharp pain. In doing so she lost her footing and rolled the rest of the way down, arriving at the floor in a ball of loose dirt and rock. She tried to pick herself up before anyone noticed. The laughter from Applesnack told her that was no longer possible.

“See anything, lieutenant? Like that rock!” Applesnack’s voice somehow lost its gruffness as he let another bout of laughter take over him.

“Actually, I did Private Applesnack.” Dawn tried to reestablish a tone of professionalism. “And I have our plan of action. We need a distraction to lure the Boerperds from their farms into the center of the village. There we can surround them and force them to surrender. Otherwise we would have to fight them individually at their homes, which would cost time and lives.”

Dawn’s section gathered around her as she briefed. “We will have four ponies in two teams do the distracting. Applesnack and Big Mac, you will be the first team. Take additional rifles and cause as much noise as you can on the south side of the village. Crag and Ditty, you will be the other team. Start on the south side and work your way around north. Use your bugle Ditty. We want to convince them that they are up against a company sized element at least.” The ponies nodded at their assignments.

“The rest of us will go in after their attention is focused. Bayonets and five rounds charged only. We want to threaten, not kill.” Dawn pulled out her spare watch from her saddlebag and handed it to Big Mac after checking that the times were synchronized. “Give us fifteen minutes to get in place, then light the village up. We will charge in ten minutes after that. Now everypony, let’s get moving!”

Ditty walked up to Dawn as they continued through the canyon. “What about Gerst Malt?” she asked. The yellow mare apparently had a name now and was able to walk.

“We will leave her at her home. I think I know which house that is.” Dawn was not sure how she knew. Ditty’s face brightened as she left to rejoin Crag. She pulled her bugle out and started blowing through it to warm the metal.

“Do you know where you are going?” the frail accented voice startled Dawn. She looked to see that Malt had limped up beside her. Even in the moonlight Dawn could tell that she was pretty, with dark blue eyes that sparkled and matched her mane. A fact which did not lessen the tightening of Dawn’s throat.

“Yes, I think so. Your farm is the one on the northeast side of town?” Dawn finally managed to spurt out after an awkward pause. “And I’m sorry for, you know, shooting you.”

“It’s my fault I got shot, and I was only angry at myself. But you came and saved me like the moon pony said, so now I am at peace with it,” Malt said softly. “And, um, yes that’s the one. But I actually meant to ask if you knew how to get out the canyon. The river at the end is likely up with all the rain from the mountains.”

Dawn caught the reflection of the moon on the water a moment after Malt’s words. She cursed herself for not looking at her map earlier. The section halted at the edge of the flowing water and looked expectantly at Lieutenant Dawn. The river was deep and wide, but it was difficult to gauge how swift it was in the low light. Dawn looked for a suitable ford but was at a loss trying to revise her plan. Applesnack thought of a revision first.

“Everypony, strip down! Put your rifles on this,” he roared while dragging a petrified log over. Dawn blushed at the idea but decided to accept the plan despite the image of indecency it conjured. Everypony was already undressed when she realized they were staring at her with foalish grins planted on their faces. Dawn’s face burned even hotter. She fumbled with her tunics buttons and slid the garment off but clung to her shako so she did not feel completely naked. She chose to ignore the whistle that came from somepony as she turned her backside to secure her saber and saddlebag on the log.

“What are you looking at,” Dawn snapped, thankful the night hid most of the redness on her face. This was ridiculous. “It isn’t anything you haven’t seen before. Besides most ponies don’t even wear clothes. Now stop staring and swim!” The ponies obliged.

Dawn winced at the coldness of the water but was thankful that the current was not as quick as she feared. She paddled with her ponies to the other side, then shook the water off her coat. Applesnack redistributed the equipment and started to put the log back in the water to retrieve the red tunics.

“Leave them,” Dawn said. “There’s no time. If the fur the goddesses gave us is good enough to stroll about town, it’s good enough to fight in.” The comment sparked additional giggles from the soldiers. Dawn wanted to jump back in the cold water to stop the burning in her cheeks. She buckled her saber and pressed forward.

The walls of the canyon quickly receded as the river flowed into the east side of the village, draining into the irrigation ditches that allowed the plateau on which the farms sat to be fertile enough to sustain the village. Dawn led her section out of the canyon and then motioned for the different teams to split up. She pointed a hoof at her watch. Applesnack and Big Mac acknowledged with a quick nod then trotted off to their respective side of the village while Crag grabbed Ditty is his hooves and flew to their starting point.

Dawn took the main force through a field of hay towards the northeast part of town. The tall grass swished quietly, blending with the stillness of the night. They were halfway through the field when Dawn realized she had forgotten to give the order to attach bayonets. She cursed herself then halted the section. “Fix bayonets,” she whispered. The sound of scraping metal was alarmingly jarring. Bits of moonlight shined through gaps in the hay to glint off the steel, which made Dawn realize she had a new problem. “Stick your bayonets in the dirt,” she ordered. The ponies complied, stabbing the earth with dull thuds and an occasional scrape as a metal blade found a buried rock. Satisfied, Dawn resumed the march forward.

A single story farmhouse stood at the end of the field. It was a rough structure, but the stone porch that wrapped around the front of the building gave it a homeliness that struck Dawn as familiar. She faced Malt and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “This is where we leave you. Stay inside until we’ve finished what we need to do. In the morning you will need to get that looked at by whoever the doctor in your village is,” Dawn instructed, pointing to the bandages across Malt’s chest. The yellow pony’s eyes showed a mix of emotions, none of which Dawn was sure of. Dawn’s eyes returned an expression of regret mixed with pity. She watched until the mare reached the house before checking her watch. Fifteen minutes had passed.

Right on cue, the quietness of the night exploded with the sound of intense rifle fire to the south. Almost immediately lights went on in the farmhouses scattered around the village. Yellow shafts cut across the shadows as doors flung open. The Boerperds cantered out and into the center of the village. Some tripped over straps and rifles as they tried to fasten them while they ran.

Dawn was impressed by Applesnack and Big Mac. The rifle fire and yells of orders and war cries that carried to Dawn’s position sounded to be coming from at least fifty ponies. New sounds doubled this estimate as she heard Crag and Ditty go into action further west. Ditty’s bulge played the order for advance several times, each in a different spot according to Dawn’s ear, which also began to pick up the first sounds of the Boerperd rifles. She noted that they had a subtlety higher crack to them.

Several minutes passed before Dawn looked at her watch again. She gave the order to form line in extended order, then pulled out her saber and let it drop forward to signal the advance. The ponies stepped out of the hay field, their multiple colors of their coats catching the moonlight. Dawn halted the line twenty lengths from the edge of the village. She could clearly see the backs of the Boerperds firing from hastily assembled fortifications of carts and barrels. Quietly, she gave orders to her line, “Aim high. We want to threaten, not kill. Use the butts of your rifles, take prisoners. No pony else has to die tonight.”

Then, in her loudest command voice, she yelled, “Company, make ready. Five rounds, magazine, independent, FIRE!” The volleys thundered into the Boerperd position, splintering wood and clay into the air. “CHARGE!” The ponies ducked then tried to spin around to face the screaming attackers as they flung themselves into the mess of carts. Their eyes were white. The Equestrian soldiers descended, clubbing heads with rifles and hooves. A brown mare came at Dawn with her rifle leveled. Dawn smacked the weapon out of her hooves with the edge of her saber. Metal met metal and rang sharply. She turned around to kick the mare to the ground.

Applesnack and Big Mac joined the fight, the pair’s deep voices piercing the cacophony of steel and wooden thuds. Big Mac reared onto a pony, distracting him while Applesnack tackled him to the dirt. The force of the impact threw him two lengths away to land next to a broken cask. Ditty sounded the bugle call for the charge several lengths outside the village. The Boerperds’ ears pricked up at the sound. They started backpedaling toward the corner of their makeshift fortifications. Dawn’s soldiers circled around them. Bayonets were leveled below grim faces.

The fight ended just as quickly as it began. With the ponies bunched together Dawn realized just how outnumbered her little force was. The Boerperds had at least four times her number, yet they believed they were facing a whole company sized unit of trained soldiers.

A graying mare stepped out from the cluster with her hooves raised. She looked for somepony to talk to, to which Dawn stepped forward. The gray mare spoke, “It appears you have me surrounded. I commend you …”

“Lieutenant Dawn, 2nd battalion, North Equus Regiment of Hoof,” Dawn stated, motioning for her ponies to lower their bayonets. The gray mare looked puzzled, which made Dawn remember none of her ponies were wearing their red tunics. Dawn was thankful she at least still wore her shako. She rolled her eyes but focused them again as the gray mare drew and presented her an elegant yet aged saber.

“I am Donker Weit, commander of the Paardenburg Commando. If you are truly Equestrians, please accept my sword and parole.” Dawn lowered the blade aside with her hoof.

“That will not be necessary, Commander Weit. You are wise to stop the fighting before any of our ponies were killed.” Weit barely hid her surprise as she counted her ponies. A few ponies nursed minor wounds and bruises, but otherwise the brief battle had seemed to avoid loss of life.

“However, there are some additional terms regarding certain items in your possession that I would like to discuss, commander. Now then, if you will follow me inside.” Dawn smiled as she led the gray mare into a building. Her plan had worked.

Chapter 8

The negotiations with Commander Weit lasted well into the night. The atmosphere was forced to start, with Commander Weit and Lieutenant Dawn attempting to maintain an air of politeness. Dawn felt increasingly awkward, for although she held the power as victor, the gray mare was her senior in rank and age.

“As I have said before,” Dawn said, unsure whether to add a “ma’am” but finally opting to omit the courtesy, “I have no interest in taking prisoners. I only want the colors that you took from my battalion.”

“But why risk lives for a piece of cloth? It makes no sense to me. Surely you Equestrians are here for much more than that.” Weit leaned her chair against the wall, her eyes narrowing on the Equestrian lieutenant. “You want to force me to give up my way of life, my beliefs to your so-called perversion of harmony.”

Dawn took a breath to reply, but the conversation was interrupted as Ditty entered the small room. She informed the officers that two Boerperd ponies had succumbed to their wounds. One Equestrian, Private Daisy, had also died. Dawn let her face droop.

Weit renewed her argument, her face considerably harder. “Tell me, Lieutenant Dawn, why do ponies like you who believe so much in harmony with each other fight as you do, killing instead of befriending? It seems rather hypocritical, don’t you say”

Dawn did not understand why either. She might have won the battle, but she felt like she was losing. “Perhaps I may ask the same for you, commander,” Dawn said, hoping that reciprocating the mare’s logos would help her gain ground.

“I fight to defend myself from that which threatens my internal harmony. To kill is not a violation of my integrity, but rather a means which when necessary holds it together,” Weit stated; she did not flinch. Dawn paused, trying to pull a response together.

“Our answer for violence is the same then,” Dawn said. “Except we fight for something greater than ourselves. We fight for the right of our ponies to live in harmony with each other. We fight for our princesses whose rule creates that harmony for everypony. And we fight for those colors, which symbolize our princesses, our fellow ponies, our homes, and, ultimately, our harmony.”

Weit let her chair return flat with the floor. She rubbed her muzzle before softening her face. “Well said, lieutenant,” she said. “If that piece of silk represents all of that, then I can have no peace for myself knowing that I have denied that which is harmony for you. But after you get your flags and return to your unit, what then? Will you continue to deny me my own chance for harmony?”

“Frankly, I cannot guarantee what happens when my ponies leave your village. But you have won my heart and thus I have no quarrel with you. I can only do my best to convince my commanders to see the same.” Dawn knew her last promise was near impossible given her current relationship with the battalion’s leadership.

There was one more question that tugged at Dawn’s conscience. “I am curious, commander, where simple farmers such as yourselves get the kind of rifles you used against our battalion. That design of firearm is barely available in Equestria, let alone out here I imagine.”

Weit hesitated, then spoke with a measured tone. “The weapons were sold to me in exchange for raids conducted against the mines at the edge of my territories. The supplier, whom I never made direct contact with, wanted the gems extracted from those mines. The deal seemed mutually beneficial, especially when they told me your intentions, which were to threaten the Boerperds and our independence.

Dawn took note of Weit’s use of the collective noun amid her strict adherence to singular cases, but she paid attention more to the mare’s description of the deal. Somepony wanted this conflict to escalate and was willing to feed the fears of the Boerperds to ignite it. She shuddered.

“Thank you, Commander Weit, I believe that will be all if you are in agreement,” Dawn said, blood rushing back to relieve the stiffness in her body as she stood up.

“I find the terms satisfactory, provided you do actually convince your ponies to stop the fighting. I can guarantee that my Commando will not take any aggressive action unless it is displayed against me first. And I will have your colors brought out immediately.” Weit clapped her hooves to a lime colored stallion who ran off to complete the order. She offered her hoof to Dawn who promptly shook it. “To a more harmonic future together.”

Dawn stepped outside the building and squinted to readjust her eyes to the changing light. The sun was just beginning to peak over the escarpment, lighting up Dawn’s section which stood in formation in the center of town. Applesnack and Crag had retrieved the uniforms while Dawn was negotiating. She was happy to see them fully dressed in their red tunics once again. The lime stallion returned with the flags and laid them before Dawn. She picked up the poles and gave them to Big Mac and Applesnack.

“Gentlecolts, unfurl the colors.” The ponies removed the canvas tubes that covered the tops of the poles, allowing the silks to catch the wind and shimmer in the first light of morning. A cheer erupted from her ponies as the blue and white flags fluttered and rippled the golden imprint of the dual monarchs circling their celestial bodies. Dawn felt a surge of pride, allowing it to radiate across her face. She thought she saw the same sentiment in Applesnack’s expression.

Confident, she drew her saber and took her place next to the section. “Section, at my command. Right, FACE! At the walk, forward, MARCH!” The rhythmic crunch of equipment and hooves on the rocky street further enhanced the lieutenant’s strut. She could see the Boerperds watching from the side and allowed herself to feel proud as the victorious column marched out of the village.

“Wait, before you go…” Malt said as she limped up from the crowd towards Dawn, a bottle in her mouth. Dawn stepped out of her position to address the yellow mare. “I want you to have this, for bringing me back here. My own specialty brew of scotch. I hope it warms you inside as it does me.” Dawn looked into the pony’s eyes, a weak smile and colored cheeks expressing her gratitude.

“Thank you,” she stammered, grabbing the amber bottle and placing it in her saddlebag. It would a great replacement for the shattered bottle of cider in her desk. “Take care of yourself, Malt,” she said warmly.

Malt gave one last wave before Dawn’s soldiers marched out of the village and into the veldt. They marched forward, with colors blazing like the rising run, and spirits restored with the same intensity of fire. Dawn was beaming.

Colonel Spitfire loathed paperwork, the least favorite part of her job as wing commander. Fresh morning sunlight shined through the large windows behind her desk to illuminate stacks of endless personnel reports, financial proposals, and disciplinary letters, all of which needed the approval only she had the authority to provide. Outside, the first pegasi were lining up and stretching, ready to begin a day of pattern work and maneuvers.

Spitfire played with a figurine of a flying Wonderbolt on her desk, missing the days when her only duty was as captain of the famous aerial demonstration team. The only paperwork she had then was signing posters to send to the young fillies and colts who were fans all across Equestria. But now, in addition to her normal paperwork, she had dozens of memorandums that had been tele-fired in from commanders throughout the Equestrian Armed Forces, all requesting their unit to be selected to take part in the expedition. An expedition, the colonel noted, that was supposed to be top secret. So naturally everypony in the military knew about it.

A knock on the door woke Spitfire from her daydream. She fumbled to put the figurine back on her desk then said, “Come in.” A turquoise pegasus entered, carrying a wrapped scroll which she laid on the colonel’s desk.

“Good morning, colonel. New tele-fire from the North Equus, ma’am,” she said.

“Put it with the others, Sergeant Sassaflash,” Spitfire grumbled. She spun around in her chair as Sassaflash left the room, then righted herself and picked up the new message. The writing was neat, almost typed. Spitfire was grateful for the detailed penmanship since so many of the other memorandums were lacking in it, a fact that baffled her when she knew that most of the commanding officers were unicorns and thus left with little excuse for sloppy handling of a pen. Spitfire started reading.

MEMORANDUM FOR COLONEL SPITFIRE, 1PW/CC

FROM LT COLONEL F. D. SIMMER, 2/NORTH EQUUS

It has come to my attention that you are in need of a fine battalion of hoof to accompany your expedition. A mission of such importance therefore warrants the necessity for the very best to execute it, qualifications which your command, the 1st Pegasus Wing, certainly has. However, I would like to propose that my unit likewise possesses the same quality of soldiering that will make us a valuable asset to assist your wing. As you have likely received numerous messages just like this one, allow me to explain why the 2/North Equus stands out.
First, our unit is one of the few in the Equestrian Army with recent combat experience. Our current deployment on the Northwest Frontier has exposed us to the complexities of real-world operations. We have learned lessons here that any other unit would have to learn while on your expedition, potentially costing more time and resources.
Furthermore, our deployment has also made us first on the list to receive the newest equipment as part of the Lunar Defense Reforms. All our ponies are equipped and trained according to the latest edition of the service manuals. This technological advantage will no doubt fit in seamlessly with the innovative style of your Wonderbolts. Therefore, I urge you to consider us your first choice for this expedition. I have no doubt you will not regret your decision.

Spitfire looked up from the memorandum. She had met Colonel Simmer once before and the impression she had gathered from him made her doubt that he possessed the eloquence this memorandum portrayed. The hoof-writing, too, seemed to remind her of an earth pony officer she had met while giving performances in the plantation towns of southern Equestria. Regardless, she found the reasoning and facts compelling.

“Sergeant Sassaflash!” she shouted into the space outside her office. The pony appeared in the doorway a moment later. “Get me the train schedules for today. And a paper and quill. I need to inform the Princess that I have finalized my unit composition for the expedition.” Colonel Spitfire would be taking the North Equus with her to the Zebra Isles. She only hoped they had the right stuff to face the challenges that awaited them in that distant land.

Lieutenant Dawn’s section arrived on the edge of camp at midday. The sight of the colors at the head of the small column attracted an audience of curious ponies who lined the dusty road to see for themselves whether the sight was merely a visage generated by the heat of day. Dawn could feel the spirit the cheering ponies radiated onto the returning soldiers, although she mainly felt the wet clinging of her tunic to her sweat-drenched back and the sting of dust and salt in her eyes. She also felt a tight knot in her stomach that persisted through the overall exhaustion. And she still needed to write her report, clean up, and then debrief the major on her mission. All before she was allowed to rest.

The camp was animated, more animated than Dawn expected even considering the return of the battalion’s colors. She halted her section near the flagpoles in the center of camp. “Everypony, great work out there. Now fall out and get some rest, you earned it. Dismissed!” Dawn breathed a heavy sigh, allowing the burden of command to leave her shoulders.

“Dawn, Dawn, I saw, congratulations,” panted Cornet Star as she trotted up to greet Dawn, who in turn placed a few wrinkles on her muzzle in a half-smile.

“Thanks, Star. How have things been in camp while we were gone? Everypony seems more energetic than I imagined,” Dawn inquired of her friend.

“A regiment of the Princess’s Dragoon Guards arrived about half an hour ago. Rumor has it we are being relieved and sent somewhere else, but nothing official has come from the staff yet. Oh, and the new uniforms arrived! Along with the Elements of Harmony.”

“Wait, why would they send those here?” Dawn asked, a mixture of surprise and excitement on her face.

“So we can wear them to our next deployment, of course,” Star said, eyes looking upward as she imagined herself in the new uniform.

“No, I meant the Elements.”

“Oh, of course, silly me. I don’t know, your guess is probably as good as mine.” Dawn had a fairly good guess.

“If you excuse me, Star, I still have to deliver my report to the major. We will grab some lunch afterwards and chat about those uniforms, eh?” Dawn said, taking the cornet’s sparkling eyes and wide grin as an affirmative.

Trudging back to her tent, flopping down on her cot was the only thing Dawn could think off. She opened the canvas flap and saw that another blue pony had the same idea as her. She stared at the dozing pegasus then smirked and gave the cot a hefty kick, causing the occupant to shoot straight up. Her head hit the tent’s pole with a resounding smack.

“Hey, what was that for,” Rainbow Dash said, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She smiled when she saw her assailant. “Dawn! I knew I found the right tent to take a nap in. Or maybe I didn’t,” she said, placing a hoof on the small bruise that had formed above her ear. Dawn pulled her stool out and sat down at her desk while Rainbow resumed a sprawled position on the cot.

“You know, for one of the best athletes in Equestria you sure are the laziest pony I’ve met,” Dawn kidded. She noticed the broken shards of glass and drops of cider over her desk and shot a mock look of dismay at Rainbow and added, “and the clumsiest…”

“Hey, it’s a long way from Canterlot on those awful train benches. Especially when Pinkie Pie is in a singing mood. Which she was,” Rainbow defended herself. “And your cider was already broken. I just tried to, you know, clean it up for you.”

“Sure,” said Dawn, wiping the mess from her desk while pulling out a paper and quill. She replaced the shattered bottle of cider with the scotch she had received from Malt. “So how is Ponyville? Is Scootaloo doing well?” Dawn inquired as she started writing.

“It’s been so boring,” Rainbow complained. “And with train ticket prices so outrageous everyone has been stuck in town, including me! I even tried going to the opera one night with Rarity, but even that got boring.” Rainbow stuck out her tongue. “Oh, and Scootaloo has been trying to start a little scooter shop off of main street,” she added. She jumped up from the cot and started running her hoof wildly through Dawn’s mane. “But what about you, still all work I see?”

“The responsibilities of command,” Dawn stated while attempting to push the hoof away. She never understood why Rainbow did that to her and Scootaloo. “You know,” she said wanting to shift the conversation away from her, “you could earn more of those responsibilities if you went active duty.”

“I still command, sometimes,” Rainbow said. “Besides, I’d have to give up a grade and Lieutenant Dash just doesn’t have the same ring as,” she took a dramatic breath to buff out her chest, “Captain Dash!”

“You still thinking of putting your application into the Wonderbolts?”

“Always,” Rainbow replied. “But Princess Celestia said I should wait a little longer. Something about needing the Elements together and all that stuff. But I asked about you, not me.”

“Scotch?” said Dawn, maneuvering the bottle into Rainbow’s eyesight.

“What now?”

“It’s apparently a specialty drink for this region, kind of like cider but better I suppose,” Dawn explained while fishing two glasses from her desk and pouring the amber liquid into each.

“I doubt that! But I’ll give it a try,” Rainbow answered, grabbing the glass. She drank it too fast, coughing then going back for more sips. Dawn held her composure better, although the drink had a bite that burned her throat. It was, though, warming to her as Malt had said. Dawn quickly hid her face from Rainbow as she remembered the yellow mare.

“Well, what do you think, Rainbow?” The pegasus wiped a tear from her eye with her wing and coughed again.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty good. Not as good as Sweet Apple Acres Cider, but better than any other cider for sure.” Rainbow grabbed the bottle and examined it. “You said that this was local? Maybe I’ll grab a bottle when we go see the Boerperds.”

The comment reminded Dawn of her report, to which she intensified her scribbling. She finished a few minutes later while Rainbow played with the bottle, looking at her distorted face through the liquid into the mirror on the desk.

“Finished,” Dawn breathed, signing her name at the bottom. “Now then, I have to go debrief Major Bolt. You are welcome to stay in here with the, uh, bottle.” Rainbow set the bottle back down and feigned an innocent expression which widened into a look of realization.

“Oh shoot, I am supposed to meet with him, too,” Rainbow fumbled, looking around. “Should I put my tunic on to meet him?” She pulled the grey SWS garment out of her bag, trying to smooth the wrinkles out.

“I don’t think it matters, Rainbow. But a good military impression might not be a bad thing in this context. Just hurry up, I’m about to leave.” Rainbow pulled her wings and forelegs through the tunic then buttoned it. Dawn rolled her eyes then motioned for Captain Dash to follow her out of the tent.

Lieutenant Dawn and Captain Dash walked up to the headquarters tent and stood outside. “So, which one of us goes in first?” Rainbow asked. Dawn rolled her eyes.

“I will handle the reporting-in. Are your friends already inside, Rainbow?”

“Actually, we are right here,” panted a lavender unicorn as she and the rest of the Element bearers trotted to the pair of blue ponies. “I hope we’re not late.” Dawn matched the pony’s physical appearance along with the anxious expression she wore to stories Rainbow had shared. She assumed the pony must be Twilight Sparkle.

“No, ma’am. Rainbow and I were just about to go in ourselves,” Dawn told Twilight. She gave the lieutenant a puzzled look which Rainbow caught.

“Oh, sorry Twilight. This is Lieutenant Dawn Glean. We used to work together in Ponyville,” Rainbow explained.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” Twilight smiled politely. She gestured to each of her friends to continue introductions. “And this is Applejack …”

“Howdy,” said the orange pony as she tipped her hat.

“… Fluttershy …”

“Hello, Dawn,” whispered the yellow pegasus with a sweet smile of recognition.

“… Pinkie Pie …”

“This is so exciting! I love meeting new friends.” Pinkie Pie bounced on all four hooves then stopped to examine the sole and frog of her right hoof.

“Pinkie,” Twilight said, “is your hoof alright?”

“Oh yeah, it’s fine now. Just felt a weird burning tinkling, must be a new Pinkie sense.”

“Pinkie,” Twilight scoffed.

“It’s probably nothing,” Pinkie said, resuming her bouncing.

“And I’m Rarity. Pleased to finally meet you, darling,” the white unicorn said. “I do say, that uniform looks rather dashing on you. But Rainbow, dear, we must do something about yours,” Rarity exclaimed as she wrapped the grey tunic in her magic, smoothing out the wrinkles.

“Thank you, Rarity,” Dawn said, blushing. “But I have your handiwork to thank for how well it looks. It’s too bad I won’t be wearing it much longer.”

“Oh, yes, I remember working on that. Military costumes are always such a thrilling challenge. But whatever do you mean, darling?”

“The army has changed the uniform from red to khaki. Everypony is supposed to be issued new uniforms soon. I will have to buy a new one for myself,” Dawn explained.

“Oh, well then allow me to make it for you. I already have your measurements, so I just need an example for the pattern.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” Dawn protested.

“Oh, but I insist.”

“Um, aren’t we supposed to be going inside,” Rainbow interrupted. Dawn cleared her expression and straightened her saber.

“Right, everypony follow me.” Dawn ducked through the tent’s door, then marched to where Major Bolt sat at a desk in the center of the tent. She squared her corners then snapped a salute as she halted. “Major Bolt, Lieutenant Dawn reports as ordered.” Rainbow stood at attention next to Dawn, but the other ponies looked around awkwardly.

Major Bolt looked up from the mess of maps and papers on his desk. “Stand at ease, lieutenant. I take it by the chatter outside before you came in that you have already met our guests.”

“Um, yes, sir,” Dawn stammered. “And here is my report on my mission, sir.” She handed the paper to Bolt who read over it quickly. He put the report down and then smiled towards Twilight.

“Twilight Sparkle, isn’t it.” The lavender unicorn stepped forward, nodding. “It appears Lieutenant Dawn has already made things a bit easier for you six. But don’t worry, there is still plenty for you to do; our battalion, unfortunately, made quite a mess. Lieutenant, would you care to explain.” He gestured to where a map of the region was placed on a stand next to his desk.

“Yes, sir,” Dawn said as she walked towards the map and addressed the six ponies. “Two days ago, the battalion engaged with a Boerperd commando in a battle which left many dead but accomplished nothing for either side. Yesterday, I led a small section of ponies into Boerperd territory. We were able to force talks with the leader of that commando, a Commander Donker Weit, in the village of Paardenburg about three-quarters of a day march from here. Based on these talks, it is my understanding that the Boerperds do not want armed conflict with Equestria, but rather are being spurred on by the fear that their harmony is being threatened by our encroachment.” Dawn left out the part about the unknown weapons supplier, a fact likely too sensitive for civilians. She was not too sure of it either.

“I read about their ideas of harmony,” Twilight piped up, seeing the confused look on her friends’ faces. “It came about as their response to the Windigos. They split off from the earth pony tribe, favoring an introspective form of harmony.”

“Indeed,” continued Dawn. “Capitalizing on shared ideas of harmony may be the best approach to reestablishing relations. Also, there is a yellow pony by the name of Gerst Malt who might be of assistance. It’s kind of a long story how I met this pony but talking with her may give you better insight on the Boerperd point of view.”

“Thank you, lieutenant,” Major Bolt said. He stood up from his desk. “You six will leave for Paardenburg in the morning. We can only spare a troop from the dragoons to escort you there, as by tomorrow both this battalion and the dragoon regiment will be on a train bound for our next duty. But I doubt you will need them. Lieutenant Dawn’s talk with Commander, err, Weit has halted any threat of aggressive activity. The veldt is perfectly safe for you ponies.” Bolt smiled. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you six. Best of wishes for tomorrow. Oh, and you are invited to the mess tonight for dinner, our treat. I hear one of you in particular is quite skilled with parties.” Bolt tossed a wink to Pinkie Pie before the ponies left the tent. He turned his attention to Dawn while replacing his smile with a frown.

“Will that be all, sir,” Dawn asked, the sudden change in mood bringing the knot in her stomach back.

“No, I’m afraid not. Take a seat, Dawn,” he said, indicating to a wicker chair while he retook his seat behind his desk. “I commend you on a job well done, Dawn. You have brought back this unit’s spirit, and you have earned my trust. But this is why I find the details of your report troubling. You really think somepony is playing the cards here?”

“The evidence seems to point that way, sir. The rifles, for instance, are foreign copies of Equestrian models. And Commander Weit mentioned a supplier who led them to attack the mines in the first place.”

“The rifles you describe are of Zebra origin, but I have no idea how they arrived here, thousands of miles from the Zebra Empire. But that’s not what troubles me most.”

“What does then, sir?” Dawn felt her mind race at the possibilities.

“The intelligence which spurred our action at the ridge did not come from my own staff or recon teams. As I recall, Colonel Simmer told me he received the intel from a local informant. What if that pony and our mysterious weapons supplier are related?”

“We could ask the colonel to find out more information,” Dawn suggested. Bolt increased the width of his frown.

“The colonel is currently in Canterlot on some urgent business. Which leads me to my most troubling news for you. Colonel Simmer, acting on a report from an officer in this battalion, is recommending that your commission be revoked.” Dawn let her mouth hang open as her heart fell into the churning mess of her stomach.

“But the colors. And my progress on relations with the Boerperds. That has to count for something.”

“Unfortunately, Dawn, Colonel Simmer will deny that the colors were ever lost in the first place. Furthermore, credit for improving relations will ultimately go to the Element bearers, as it normally does. The ponies of Equestria don’t care about an army lieutenant, or the truth for that matter. They would rather listen to the sweet lies that reinforce the world they think they live in.” Bolt’s tone was bitter, betraying experience. He softened his tone. “But I care, Dawn.”

Dawn blinked a tear away to look into the major’s eyes. “The paperwork process takes time. I’d say you have two, maybe three weeks before anypony sees the recommendation. The expedition we are about to take part in will involve many risks, and thus opportunities for you to prove that recommendation wrong. Until then, there is a vacancy as the executive officer in C Company that I am assigning you to.”

“Thank you, sir. I-I don’t know what to say,” Dawn stammered. She was embarrassed by the emotion that crept into her voice.

“Like I said, Dawn. Grapes, cotton, and molasses.” Bolt winked. “Now then, go get some rest. I expect to see you in the mess tonight. You need a proper introduction without that uppity prancer to ruin it. And knowing the reputation of that pink pony, it’ll be one hell of a party.”

Chapter 9

Dawn threw herself to the other side of her cot. She could not quite remember how she had gotten back in her tent the previous night. She recalled some bits of the party, especially the horde of confetti, mounds of cake, and ecstatic energy Pinkie Pie brought to the officers’ mess. About halfway through the party Pinkie and Ditty had started a duet together, playing a lively tune that Dawn supposed was ragtime. A few ponies had danced to the music, but Dawn had been more interested in the connection between Ditty and Pinkie. Her inquiries between sets had explained that Ditty had been a clerk at the music store in Ponyville, and that the two had built a rapport when Pinkie came in one day needing instruments to quell an sudden infestation of parasprites.

Dawn rolled over and pulled her blanket tighter against the morning’s chill. She supposed that, despite her current headache, the night had gone well. The other officers had seemed receptive to her, but Dawn did not know whether to attribute it to the smiling pink pony’s energy, Major Bolt’s eloquent introduction, or the punch. The punch had been exceptional, although Dawn could not remember much beyond her fourth cup. She suspected Pinkie’s recipe had been enhanced by some of the ponies in the mess.

The light that bled through the canvas told Dawn she could no longer stay in bed. She pulled her blanket off and tossed her hooves over the edge of the cot. The ground was higher and squishier than she expected.

“Ouch!” the ground yelped.

“Oh, sorry Rainbow Dash,” Dawn muttered. “Wait, what are you doing here again?” Dawn rubbed her eyes and tried to put together a logical reason from the blurred memories.

“We came back together last night, remember?” Rainbow said between a yawn. “Because somepony forgot to put tents on her packing checklist.” Dawn did not, but she accepted the story in lieu of a less savory explanation which she pushed to the back of her mind.

Dawn sat down at her desk and started brushing her coat, while Rainbow took her place on the cot. She was surprised to see a new khaki tunic folded neatly next to her crumpled red one, along with a note that read, “Here is your new uniform, darling. I have no doubt it will look absolutely divine on you!”

Rarity works fast, Dawn concluded, running her hooves through the cotton drill material. Rarity had even made the helmet cover, the gold stitching of the Royal Seal on the blue regimental flash done with exceptional precision. I don’t deserve this, Dawn said to herself as she pulled the tunic on and fastened her saber belt, but I’ll prove that I do.

A heated conversation outside stopped Dawn from exiting her tent. Both voices carried the twang of a country accent.

“Why didn’t ya tell me you were up here, Big Mac?” Applejack interrogated. “It’s bad enough I got to worry ‘bout Apple Bloom goin’ to school, but now you’re here in harm’s way.”

“I was gonna tell, but we got a little busy…”

“But why now, brother? You ain’t tired of the apple farm, ain’t ya?”

“Ayep. I mean, nope. I mean …” Big Mac stuttered.

“Be honest with me, Bic Mac,” Applejack pressed. Big Mac sighed.

“Well,” Big Mac began, “the extra money will help out on the farm. An’ I reckon I jus’ wanted some adventure. An’ a chance t’ lead.”

“Where’d you get that idea?”

“An officer who believes in me,” Big Mac said proudly. Dawn felt a mixture of pride and embarrassment through the canvas.

“Well, if this is where ya think you belong, brother, I ain’t going to be the one to stop you. Ya gotta be true to yourself. Just promise me you’ll be safe,” Applejack’s voice softened. The faint thump and rustle of clothes suggested to Dawn that the two hugged each other.

Dawn, wanting to avoid suspicion of having overheard the conversation, snuck out of her tent from the back. She tripped over Applesnack as she ducked under the canvas. “What the hay!” she exclaimed.

“Good morning, lieutenant,” Applesnack said, quickly coming to his feet and rendering a salute. His normally grim expression was replaced with a coltish grin.

“What are you doing here, Private Applesnack?”

“Nothing, ma’am. Well, actually, I came for you. The captain’s been looking for you.” Dawn raised an eyebrow but decided to accept Applesnack’s excuse; she wanted to stay on his good side. She also had yet to meet her new commanding officer, Captain Cherry Bounce, so Applesnack’s message was entirely expected.

“Thank you, Applesnack. I was just on my way over there.” Applesnack nodded then departed. Dawn noticed him glance back to where Applejack and Big Mac were walking. She had never seen him smile like that. Dawn smirked, then trotted to catch up to Big Mac.

“Mornin’, lieutenant,” he said. Applejack glanced at her brother then smiled at Dawn. “Where are ya off to, ma’am?”

“I’m on my way to meet with Captain Bounce. I am taking over as C Company’s XO,” Dawn said.

“That’s where I’m a headin’,” Big Mac said. Dawn barely hid the surprise that flashed her ears up. She suspected Major Bolt had a hand in the assignment.

“Well, that’s a relief, knowin’ my brother is servin’ alongside an honest officer,” Applejack said. “Some of those unicorn types last night was a bit too uppity for my taste.” The details of her first night in the mess filled Dawn’s thoughts, waiting to be exposed, but she held her tongue.

“You’ll promise to keep Big Mac safe, won’t ya, Dawn?” Applejack asked.

“Don’t worry Applejack,” Dawn said, hoping to alleviate the anxiety on Applejack’s face. She knew that her answer was a lie, that her personal mission to prove herself would make her dangerous to any pony that followed her. But she knew it was also the truth, for she would do everything she could to keep the ponies around her from harm.

“So tell me about this here Malt pony we’re supposed to meet,” Applejack said.

“What about her?” Dawn said, taken off guard by the request.

“I jus’ wanna know what we’re getting’ ourselves into. What’s she like?”

“Friendly, I suppose, and a pretty yellow color with blue eyes. She’s a farmer. I think she has a pet dog,” Dawn stumbled. She left out the part about nearly killing the yellow mare.

“Huh, I’ve got a dog, too. Winona’s her name.” Applejack chuckled heartily. “Sounds like we got a lot in common.”

“Ayep,” agreed Big Mac. He stopped in front of the tent that served as the company’s headquarters. He turned to hug his sister. “You’ll do great, A.J.”

“I’ll miss you, Big Mac,” Applejack said. Dawn looked at her hoof. She took a startled breath as the orange mare wrapped her forelegs around her and squeezed. “An’ it was good to see you again, Dawn.”

“You … too,” Dawn breathed out. She gasped as Applejack released her grip and walked away. Then she looked at Big Mac and motioned for him to follow her inside.

Captain Cherry Bounce did not look up from her desk as the lieutenant and sergeant marched in. She was a cherry red unicorn with a face that suggested a bubbly personality. Her desk was a mess of red-liquid filled bottles and stacks of ledgers and paper.

“Lieutenant Dawn Glean and Sergeant MacIntosh reporting as ordered,” Dawn stated. She added a click of her hooves to draw extra attention after the captain ignored their initial greeting.

“Oh, sorry, stand at ease ponies,” Bounce said following a shake of her head. “I’m a little out of it today. You wouldn’t believe the headache I’ve got.” The throbbing in Dawn’s own head made her sympathetic of her captain. “Drinks,” Bounce asked, gesturing to a half-empty bottle. Dawn and Big Mac shook their heads to decline. “Suit yourself,” she said while refilling her glass.

“Let’s cut straight to business, shall we? Lieutenant Dawn, here is all of the paperwork you will be responsible for,” she said while placing a hoof down on the stack of ledgers. “Bolty tells me you’re an excellent clerk pony. And since we are short on officers since our last engagement, I’ll have you take over the skirmishers if we do see any action. Don’t look so down-trodden, this is a fun company!” Dawn forced a smile. She was not looking forward to the tedious task before her, especially if the company’s records were kept as loose as its commander.

“What is the current establishment of the company?” Dawn asked.

“Normally, 237 ponies, but we are currently at 206 ready for duty, I think. Which reminds me,” Bounce said, turning around in her chair. “Sergeant MacIntosh, I’ll have you take over the role of quartermaster sergeant and report directly to the lieutenant here, since poor Sergeant Spoke took a bullet in the hock and Bolty says you have experience in wagon trains, yes?”

“Ayep… I mean, yes, ma’am.”

“Great! Oh, just wait until you meet the ponies. They are at the train right now getting issued uniforms. Sergeant, head over there and get yours. And since you appear to already have yours, lieutenant, you can start writing out the inventory slips!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dawn muttered.

“Our company entrains in three hours. I’ll see you then. Dismissed.”

Dawn plopped down on the train bench, exhausted. Her mouth cramped from two hours of writing, and her throat was scratchy from yelling orders to get her ponies onboard. Major Bolt had ordered the departure time moved up after several weather wise pegasi reported a strong storm approaching. The rails over the mountains were treacherous even in good weather.

The entraining process had been frustrating for Dawn. She had gathered in her short time with the company that Captain Bounce seemed to be popular among everypony; several enlisted had even called her a friend. But to them, the lieutenant was just another noisy officer and an outsider trying to sap the fun away. Dawn was thankful for Big Mac whose size and voice somehow had more authority in getting ponies to move than the rank on her cuff.

Dawn shifted her weight and unbuttoned her tunic to get comfortable. She balanced a ledger on the bench and divided her attention between the rows of figures on the page and the landscape beginning to move outside her window. The brown bush of the veldt melted away under the gray sheets of rain that followed the train. Droplets pattered against the windowpane as the train rounded the mountains, turning briefly to snow at the crest, then back to rain once the train descended into the Crystal Empire countryside.

The train made a brief stop in the capital to restock on coal. Dawn got up to stretch and swap ledgers in the baggage car. The rain stopped by the time she returned to her seat, but dark clouds clung to the horizon in stark contrast to the fresh blue patches of sky. Eventually, the monotonous rattling of the train and the tedious work on the ledgers lulled Dawn into the temptation of sleep.

She woke up several hours later. The cabin inside the railcar was dark save for flashes of moonlight that occasionally peeked through gaps in the clouds. From where her head rested on the bench Dawn could see the yellow glow of lights reflecting on the clouds. She figured that the train must be nearing the suburbs of Fetlock just outside Manehattan. She started to stir until she overheard Star and Belle talking in hushed tones on the bench behind her. She decided to remain quiet.

“I don’t understand what you see in her,” Belle said sourly. “She’s just another earth pony masquerading where she shouldn’t be.”

“What do you mean, Belle?” Star defended. “She’s a good officer, and a friend. Besides, what’s so bad about earth ponies? Just look outside at how beautiful their way can be,” Star said while pointing her hoof at the window.

The scene outside was indeed beautiful. Neatly paved streets adorned with cute houses and well-groomed trees flickered past the window, the rows of electric lights glittering to illuminate the homes of Fetlock. The electric light bended around the houses and reached into the darkness of the sky, preventing it from descending on the ponies asleep below. “Equestria owes her progress to the innovation that has been led by earth ponies.”

“Sure, but what happens when that progress replaces the real Equestria, the one that was guided purely by the light from magic?” Belle was not convinced. “What you see as beautiful I see as artificial. Look outside again.”

Dawn lifted her head up, intrigued by Belle’s argument. The warm glow she had seen in the clouds was now harsh as it came from the light poles. While the glowing bulbs kept away the overall darkness of the night, they also cast new shadows that lurked between buildings and trees. Dawn set her head back down and turned her eyes back towards the night sky. She looked for the stars and moon but saw none of them except for the very brightest which attempted to compete with the haze of yellow light.

“Take my advice, Star,” Belle continued. “Stay away from Lieutenant Dawn.”

“No. I can’t, not when she’s been so nice to me. I don’t know why, but she’s not like other earth ponies. Or other officers, for that matter.” Star cast a glance back to where Dawn pretended to sleep.

“She’s not the kind of pony you want to follow if you want to have a career,” Belle sighed. “Or want to live.”

The train stopped just outside the docks of Manehattan and remained there for the rest of the night. Major Bolt had walked over from the staff car and briefed the battalion’s officers on the plan for boarding the ship. Dawn learned that the commander of the expedition was a Colonel Spitfire, wing commander for the famed 1st Pegasus Wing. She also learned that Spitfire’s staff had forgone the arrangement of billets for the battalion. Thus, everypony was required to stay on the train until morning when the ship and the rest of the expedition would arrive. It was the typical hurry up and wait situation that the military ponies were accustomed to.

Dawn tried to sleep through the night, but her mind was uneasy. Giving up on rest, Dawn once again tackled her administrative duties, correcting mistakes in the company’s books by the yellow light that peered in from the docks. After several hours she looked up to see that the sky outside had begun to gray with the approach of morning. She packed away the ledgers as Major Bolt walked into the car.

“Alright, everypony, let’s get to it. A, B, and D company, you’re on the Berrichonhead. C company, since you’re the smallest, you’ll be on the frigate Phoenix.” The major’s briefing was punctuated by the clatter of hooves as the officers exited the car and trotted towards their ponies. Dawn tried to spot Captain Bounce, but lost sight of her through the thick mist that carried with it the smell of salt and burning coal. She found Big Mac instead standing outside of C Company’s cars.

“Mornin’, ma’am.”

“Good morning, Big Mac. Have you seen the captain come by to give orders yet?”

“Nope,” Big Mac said. Dawn muttered something under her breath.

“Go ahead and see that the baggage gets loaded on the Phoenix. I will start moving the ponies on board,” Dawn said. She spotted Cornet Star and the rest of C Company’s platoon leaders in a circle outside the other end of the car. “Let’s start loading, everypony. No time to stand around,” she said as she trotted up to them.

“Is that an order from the captain?” Belle glared. Dawn returned the stare. Star and the other two cornets stepped back.

“No, it’s an order from the major, Belle. Last I checked he commanded here.”

“We were just waiting for Captain Bounce to get started,” Star chimed in, looking around for the cherry colored mare. Dawn broke eye contact with Belle.

“I reckon the captain may’ve already gone onboard,” Cornet Polish said. “So, I’m guessing the lieutenant’s right and there isn’t any use for us to twiddle our hooves.” Dawn’s eyes softened as Cornet Sprint, one of the few pegasi officers, nodded in agreement with her unicorn brother’s theory.

She looked towards the frigate, trying to spot a patch of red moving between the ship’s rigging. She finally sighted her underneath the smokestack which was already belching a plume of dark smoke. On the Berrichonhead docked next to the Phoenix Dawn could see the pegasi of the dragoons moving crates as well as pieces of light artillery onto the ship’s deck. Ponies darted between the masts of both vessels, unfurling the sails and tossing ropes.

“Right then, no time to lose,” Dawn commanded. The cornets trotted away, yelling for their sergeants as they moved. Dawn followed Belle. She felt an urge to grab the unicorn and pull her in between two rail cars for a little conversation. She let her frustration at the mare’s actions drive each step that led her closer. The lies, the disrespect after everything she had done, all of it ran through her mind as she reached out her hoof towards Belle’s withers. Then she stopped.

She stopped because the voice in her head begged her to listen. She’s right. Dawn did not want to believe it, but the hurt pressed on her and coaxed her to accept it. What kind of pony am I to do this? Dawn froze alone in the middle of the docks. She wanted to cry. She spun around, looking at the orderly chaos of ponies dashing about, yelling orders and loading the ships. And do I really belong here?

Dawn held her tears back until the expedition’s little flotilla got under way. She leaned against the railing on deck, watching the Manehattan skyline drift further into the hazy distance. The sun was at her back, glistening on the metal tops of skyscrapers. The ocean sprayed against the ship and onto Dawn’s face, mixing with the other salty liquid that trickled from her eyes.

“Are you alright, Dawn?” Dawn lifted her head from her hooves and faced a concerned Star.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s a lovely view, isn’t it?” Dawn smiled while looking out across the sea.

“Yeah, it is. It’s weird. This is the farthest I’ve been from Equestria.”

“Same,” Dawn said, replacing her head on her hooves.

“I think it’s exciting, all the possibilities and the adventure. But why are you sad? Surely, you’ve got to be excited, too?” Star placed her hoof on Dawn’s withers.

Dawn said nothing but continued to look into the distance. She was not sure what to say. Part of her wanted to load her burden onto the young unicorn standing next to her, but another, larger part of her convinced her that she alone deserved the burden. Dawn let her ears fall flat and sighed. “Do you remember our conversation on the train from Ponyville?” Dawn asked.

“Of course,” Star said cheerily. “You were so helpful and made me feel better about my place here.” Star started rubbing her hoof. “But what’s that got to do with right now? You’re not feeling homesick, are you?” Dawn was not sure she had a home to feel homesick for.

“I don’t …” she began. Star brought her head around to look into Dawn’s eyes.

“Well push those sad thoughts away, because this is your home, this battalion, these ponies. Major Bolt said it just the other night, you belong here.” Dawn felt the warmness pooling under her eyes.

“I wish I could believe that,” she said, her thought finding a voice.

“Sure you can,” Star’s grin melded into a sincere smile. “I believe in you, Dawn. And you should believe in yourself.”

Dawn let the words echo. She wanted to accept them as true, but she was afraid that they were a lie, a fantasy that she knew would inevitably topple. Dawn tried to match Star’s smile as she let her eyes meet the young unicorn’s, her body relaxing. Star was her friend. But she remembered her past missions, her failures, her ponies who had been killed. She felt the terror of dying, imagining Star in the place of Malt from her dream. The words of Major Bolt joined the echo of Star’s words, that the expedition “will involve many risks, and thus opportunities” … opportunities for your ponies, your friends, to get hurt, Dawn added to herself. No, I can’t let that happen, not to her. I might deserve it, but she doesn’t. Dawn looked away.

“I … I have to go finish some paperwork for the captain,” Dawn stammered. “And, thank you. But when we get to the islands, it’s probably best you stay away from me. I …” She trotted off before she could finish, not wanting to share her heart’s burden.

“Wait, Dawn,” Star called out. Dawn did not hear her. She ducked under a door and wandered through the frigate’s corridors. She was not sure where she was going. She felt lost. And she was fine with that.

Dawn paused outside a doorway labeled “Communications”. The sound of laughter coming from the room intrigued her for a brief moment. She sighed and lowered her head to look at her hooves.

“Lieutenant Dawn?” Ditty sounded excited as she appeared in the doorway. Dawn started to walk off. “Hey, you want to come join us for a game? We need another player.” Dawn looked back at Ditty. She doubted that she was really needed, but something in the contagious grin of the little unicorn tugged at her.

“Sure, Ditty, I’ll play a round or two,” Dawn said. Ditty squirmed and motioned with her hoof for Dawn to follow her through the doorway.

“Room, atten…” Applesnack scrambled to his feet.

“Please, carry on,” Dawn quickly said before she disrupted the other ponies trying to stand up. She looked around the room, which was little more than a closet. Along the back wall a tele-fire machine sat along with stacks of scrolls, quills, and several books. The machine looked new unlike the well-worn one she had seen from the Ponyville station. Arranged in a circle on the only floor space in the room were Crag and Ditty sitting across from Applesnack and Big Mac. She also noticed a fifth pony she had not met, or seen anything like, before. The black and white stripes across his body made Dawn realize he was not a pony, but rather a zebra. Ditty noticed the confused look that crossed Dawn’s face.

“This is the communications officer of the Phoenix, Ensign Xallec’t. And my best friend from our foal days in the orphanage,” Ditty explained, smiling fondly at her zebra friend.

“A pleasure it is to meet you. A friend of Ditty’s is my friend, too,” Xallec’t said, his voice betraying a slight accent which Dawn’s ears perked up at. Xallec’t offered an explanation.

“Ponish is a second language for me. The wars in my home made me a refugee.”

“I think your accent is so cool,” Ditty said. “And to think they told you to ditch those roots back at the orphanage,” she scoffed.

"Sometimes where a pony has come from is just as important as where she’s going,” Crag said. “Or zebra, beg your pardon, Xallec’t,” The zebra rolled his eyes and grinned.

“Are we going to play this game or what,” Applesnack grumbled.

“Ayep,” Big Mac chimed in, agreeing. Dawn took a seat in the circle. Crag dealt the cards. The game was a partner variation of canasta; Crag and Ditty were one team, Applesnack and Big Mac the second, while the officers formed the third.

The first two rounds were brutal for Dawn and Xallec’t. Big Mac managed to draw more wild cards than Dawn thought possible while Applesnack consistently played high scoring melds on the floor. The third round started off as the other two had. Dawn frowned at the lack of plays in her hand of cards. Then she got lucky when Ditty absent-mindedly threw just the card she needed. Dawn managed to get into her hoof a turn after Xallec’t. The cards stacked in her favor perfectly. She let a smirk cross her face as she looked at Xallec’t; he had the same idea.

“You ready to go out, partner?” Dawn asked.

“Yes, my friend. Let this round end.” Dawn laid all her cards on the floor. Applesnack’s jaw dropped.

“Celestia damn me to the moon,” Applesnack roared. He scattered his cards for everypony to see. “I was about to do that!” Crag chuckled.

“Leave it to officers to show you how it’s done,” Dawn said between her grin. Big Mac stood up in a mock salute.

“Ayep, ma’am.” The circle broke out in laughter. Dawn laughed with them. For a moment, she felt like she belonged. These ponies were becoming her friends, and perhaps even her home. But the brightness and warmth of the moment reminded her just how dark and cold the future could be. Especially if she was the one to lead these ponies to it.

Preface

The pony of life upright,
Whose cheerful mind is free
From weight of impious deeds,
And yoke of vanity,

The pony whose silent days
In harmless joys are spent:
Whom hopes cannot delude,
Nor sorrows discontent,

That pony needs neither towers,
Nor armor for defense:
Nor vaults her guilt to shroud
From thunders violence;

She only can behold
With unaffrighted eyes
The horrors of the deep,
And terrors of the Skies.

Thus, scorning all the cares
That fate or fortune brings,
Her Book the Heavens she makes,
Her wisdom heavenly things.

Good thoughts her surest friends,
Her wealth a well-spent age,
The earth her sober Inn,
And quiet pilgrimage.

War. You have heard it said that war never changes, that at its essence it retains the same virtue – the virtue of violence.

Except war does change. In its simplest form it renders itself like the defensive pet of its parent institution, awaiting its master’s command to continue his wish by the means for which it is trained. In this regard, the pet is of great service to the master, for it protects him and deters his foes. Yet the beast which is today easily tamed may tomorrow be easily untamed, its undoing the assault of its master’s virtue. This change in war from a docile instrument into a destructive storm is surprising, yet it should not be. Consider that the same musical notes which are used to construct harmony may, in simple rearrangement or progression, become dissonant to the ear. An artist, likewise, possesses all of the pigments necessary to capture beauty and meaning through her art, yet also has the same colors to render something which likens itself to neither. War, therefore, changes in the sense that the composition of elements that drive it change. But the elements themselves, which reside in everypony, never change – they are the foundation of the pony condition, a product of the choices made in the search for virtue.

The power of choice introduces the greatest change in war, which is not in itself, but in the ponies who find themselves in it. Violence as a virtue seldom exists alone; it is disguised as attachment to other virtues and reached for when the end requires it. The virtue of greed, for instance, abuses violence to acquire for itself further wealth, whereas the virtue of sacrifice submits to violence to attain a goal for others. Such a choice, however, is neither clear nor easy, for just as the colors of paint may mix and run together, so too does the influence of virtues on the heart of a pony. Often the virtue chosen goes by another name or proves to be a corruption of the true virtue desired; thus, the nature of the choosing is marred by the ambiguous results of an otherwise clear intention. The progression of war with its attachment of violence, however, requires choices to be made regardless. And each choice leads somewhere, a journey that each pony must make for themselves.

Two hundred years ago, the ponies of Equestria made choices that took them, whether they knew it or not, to the horrid yet familiar wasteland which we now consider inevitable. Except it was not, nor did it have to be. Change is, after all, a product of choice, and choice is controlled by the free will of each pony in their search for virtue. The importance, therefore, is not that their actions plunged Equestria into darkness, but rather that it was their choices which led them there and ultimately our choices which kept us there. But by simply choosing something different, we eventually led ourselves back into light.

The stories I am about to tell are about those choices, or rather the ponies who made them. They are not true, yet there is truth in them. The characters may be fictional, but the ponies they represent and the challenges they faced are not. They, like me, had to grow to overcome them. They laughed, they cried, they built relationships, they lost friends. And they all had to make a choice in their search for virtue. A choice between good and bad, harmony and discord, light and darkness.

So just as I have shared my story with you, so too do I now share these that you may glean that bit of wisdom which many seek, yet more ignore, and seldom find.

Littlepip, Bringer of Light

Author's Note

This work is written as an in-universe series of historical fiction novels. Although having read Fallout: Equestria might enhance this story, it is not required. I have also tried to keep major spoilers out of my story, so read without fear.

The opening poem is adapted from Thomas Campion's "The Man of Life Upright".

Chapter 2

“Do you mind if I sit here, ma’am?” The words, coming from Cornet Star, brought Dawn back to the sunny albeit noisy railcar. She had been using the time to study the latest edition of the army’s field service regulations. She just finished the chapter on “Proper Spacing for the Deployment of Forward Skirmishers” and was about to start “Advance of the Company in Extended Order” when Star walked up to her bench.

“Certainly, take a seat,” Dawn replied, feigning her attempt at a smile. It was little more than a smirk that for the brightness of her eyes would convey an expression of mocking rather than sincerity. “What can I do for you?”

“I just needed someone else to talk to. There is only so much gossip on military fashion that one pony can take,” Star admitted, rolling her eyes in the direction of the other cornet. “Besides, I’m still trying to find my place in all of this. I feel like a dumb lost filly.”

So do I, Dawn thought. “That’s just the nature of learning our profession. You have to start somewhere.” She chuckled to herself, remembering something. “Perhaps an example from my first brigade maneuvers will help.” Star leaned forward, bringing her ears up as Dawn started her her story. “I was assigned to XI Battery, Royal Field Artillery."

“You were a red-cuffer?” Star interrupted, referring to the distinctively oversized red cuffs on the blue jackets that had earned artillerists their nickname.

“Well, it wasn’t my first choice, but slots in a hoof regiment are competitive, especially for earth ponies,” Dawn explained, her cheeks flush. Within the Equestrian Army, anypony could earn the Princesses’ Commission to serve as an officer in the infantry, artillery, or support branches; only the cavalry regiments restricted membership to pegasi, although other ponies occasionally commanded above the squadron level. The difficulty of the entrance exams, though, meant that only the most educated got the opportunity to attend training. And the most educated were typically unicorns, with the wealth and access to attend Canterlot’s best schools.

“I arrived a week before the start of the maneuvers, so naturally I was an expert in gunnery by the exercise’s start.” A smirk wrinkled Star’s muzzle as Dawn continued, “my job was to lead a forward observation party and scout out targets to relay back to the battery. Our target for the day was a set of yellow painted wagons supposed to represent the opposing force’s supply train. Read a map, identify the target, and write down the coordinates for a pegasus to fly back. Simple enough job that even a fresh cornet couldn’t screw it up.”

“Except you did, didn’t you?” Dawn sighed.

“Yep. Dropped my map in a river, wandered around the forest for two hours, and then finally sighted some wagons in a clearing. I couldn’t get a positive ID on them because I forgot my telescope at camp, so I just assumed they were the right wagons. I sent our pegasus off with the coordinates and five minutes later six shells smashed into the wagons.”

“That sounds like a successful mission to me,” Star shrugged.

Dawn paused and let her ears fall back. “It would have been, if those wagons weren’t two weeks’ worth of apples and hay for the whole brigade.” Star’s eyes widened as her laughter cut through the railcar. Two ponies turned to look at her, then shrugged and returned to their card game.

“The whole exercise ended up being canceled. My captain was so pissed. He wanted to load me in one of the howitzers and lob me clear to the next valley. Which he did, in a way,” Dawn added. After the incident the captain of her battery had recommended a court-martial against her, but the brigade commander stepped in, recognizing the youthful mistake and suggesting an alternative form of punishment that although more subtle, was just as likely to see her out of the service in the same time as the court proceedings.

“I was reassigned to the Ponyville Yeomanry as the unit clerk,” Dawn recalled, the disappointment still bitter. The Yeomanry were well respected with a history that pre-dated the formation of the Equestrian Army, but most units were little more than backwater collections of farmers who gathered to play dress-up once a week. Or so they were viewed by the regular army, especially by the ponies in charge of determining promotions. An assignment to a Yeomanry regiment was a guaranteed career ender for an active duty officer.

“So how did you end up here?” Star asked. She was forming a new respect for the lieutenant across from her who, despite being her peer in age, seemed so much older. She had never met an artillerist before. Or an officer from the Yeomanry. But she also had not met many other officers either except for her instructors at training.

“I am not quite sure how it happened either, to be honest,” Dawn admitted. She hardly remembered the first two moons of her assignment aside from the endlessly unorganized mess of rosters, payment ledgers, and half-complete lists of equipment and uniform inventories. “I knew I needed to make up for my mistake if I had any chance of getting out of there. So, I became the best clerk I could be. I redesigned the paperwork process, tracked down missing equipment, and managed to find an additional two thousand bits in funding that had been lost by some idiot in Canterlot.” She had also acquired a neatness of penmanship that was reserved for unicorns with the extra dexterity their magic provided.

“My commander was impressed with my work and gave me additional responsibilities outside of the office. One of those included acting as liaison with the Ponyville Detachment of the Special Weather Service.” The Special Weather Service was an auxiliary of the Royal Air Service with the sole task of planning and controlling the weather over Equestria. All pegasi, upon graduation of flight school, were automatically enlisted for a two year term while the top graduates were offered a reserve Princesses’ Commission and the opportunity to lead one of the detachments located in every city and village. Many pegasi jumped at this opportunity, since both the officers’ commission and the experience greatly improved their chance of getting accepted into the Wonderbolts Academy and one day flying alongside Equestria’s top flyers. One such aspirational pony had been leading the Ponyville Detachment.

“My counterpart was a pony by the name of Rainbow Dash,” Dawn said, her voice softening as she fondly referred to her friend. She had first met Rainbow Dash while scouting out training locations near the Everfree Forest. The blue pegasus had knocked her off her hooves in a violent burst of wind upon arriving at the site. Rainbow, a SWS captain at the time, had apologized first for being late, and second for her forceful landing.

“Our duties meant that we spent a great deal of time working together. I learned a lot serving beside her – she was awesome and cool and so full of energy. Eventually we began meeting off duty, too. She would invite me to lunch along with another young pegasus filly named Scootaloo. She would mostly share stories from her exploits with us, but many of those contained some of the lessons she had learned with the other bearers of the Elements.”

“Wait, you were friends with a bearer of The Elements of Harmony?” Star interjected. The six ponies that bore the Elements of Harmony had a reputation throughout Equestria, often appearing on headlines in the local newspapers as heroes doing this or that.

“It wasn’t like that,” Dawn replied, “Rainbow was, aside from her pride in her flying, just like any other pony. Although I don’t think anypony took as many naps as her!” Dawn recalled that facet of Rainbow Dash well, especially since she would often crash in the regimental office after an assignment. Dawn could not remember how many times she had to stall the commander just so he would not catch the dozing pegasus lounging at his desk.

“Wow, how did you get so lucky, ma’am?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know how I deserved her friendship. Or the time she took to mentor me. Or especially how she saved my career.”

“What do you mean?” Star asked.

“As a bearer of the Elements, Rainbow Dash had a close relationship with the princesses. Close enough that a simple letter from her was strong enough recommendation to request a transfer to a hoof regiment.” And secure a promotion, Dawn added silently to herself. “And this is what brings me here. Getting these ponies and supplies to the battalion is my first assignment as an infantry officer.” And I will not fail this one, Dawn reassured herself.

The remainder of the train ride occurred in dull, rattling monotony. The ponies inside were now more animated, growing restless after many hours cramped on the poorly stuffed benches. Some ponies forwent the benches altogether, choosing to sprawl out on the gritty plywood that served as the railcar’s flooring. The group of ponies playing cards had grown to include another four. Shouts of outrage and hearty laughter that occasionally broke the drone of the railcar suggested the game was some variation of poker. Somepony was obviously losing.

Cornet Star had left to retake her seat next to Belle, who was continuing to talk to her neighbor. Star did not seem to be listening, though, as her ears slowly drooped sideways and her muzzle dipped downward, snapping upward sporadically as the young officer fought the clutches of sleep. Belle was oblivious and simply took the nods as signs of affirmation and cues to continue for whatever she was discussing.

Dawn watched the pair for several minutes, then decided to return to her studying. She had not been in the infantry for very long and thus wanted to make sure she was just as knowledgeable and prepared to do her duty as the other lieutenants in the battalion. She undid the brass buttons on her tunic and let it fall open, exposing tufts of blue hair on her chest. Officers were not supposed to be undressed in the presence of enlisted, but Dawn did not care.

Her jacket, a gift from the Yeomanry ponies for her promotion and transfer, was new and itchy, and she needed to be comfortable. She let her eyes fall on the details of the cuff, which according to Rainbow had been stitched by the best seamstress in Ponyville. Dawn could tell, for the blue material flowed seamlessly into the red sleeve, with perfectly placed gold trim and two white gems that indicated her rank. The shako sitting next to her on the bench was also custom made. The black leather was well-shaped and fit snugly on her poll, while the cap badge of the dual monarchs circling their respective celestial bodies was brilliantly polished. The alternating dark blue and white feathers of the plume were carefully sized and mounted, unlike the clumsy, crumpled condition that most ponies kept theirs in. Lieutenant Dawn was proud to wear the Princesses’ uniform.

Which is why she needed to stop drooling over her clothes and get to reading. She picked up the leather-bound book and tried to remember where she was. “… the company shall be extended in three lines at the double-interval, spaced twenty lengths apart. Lines one and two shall provide fire support. Line three shall reinforce the forward lines until the order to advance is given. Advance shall be made at the trot with bayonets fixed and leveled in the ready position. Platoon commanders shall be interspersed in the firing line to relay orders of the company commander, who shall be standing six lengths behind the third line …” Dawn yawned, eyes already heavy after a few paragraphs. She had forgotten how dry military writing was.

She tried to visualize how the new tactics would work in the field. Thus far she had only seen the outdated methods which were designed for antiquated breech-loading rifles, which despite their age remained the standard weapon for almost all the hoof and guard regiments. Dawn recalled how the thin lines, two ponies deep, of red-clad infantry had leap-frogged across the field, the rear rank of ponies pulling cartridges from their packs and placing them in the chambers of the rifles mounted on the backs of the front rank. The line would erupt in a cloud of thick white smoke followed by a delayed sharp crackle as it let loose a volley, then the ranks would exchange places forward or backward as needed.

Gunpowder had always been a scarce and poor quality commodity in Equestria, forcing its restricted use amongst the military only. Dawn remembered a newspaper story many years back where residents of a settlement had used apple pies as ammunition against a tribe of buffalo in a land dispute. But resources from the mines around the Crystal Empire had allowed for an improved gunpowder to be developed, which along with the factories in Fillydelphia had led to the invention of a new rifle, one that could be fired by a single pony thanks to its ergonomic bolt-action mechanism. As part of the Equestrian military’s modernization program, the North Equus was one of the first units to receive a shipment of the rifles, secured snugly in wooden crates in the back of the train.

All the more reason for this mission to go successfully. Dawn felt a heavy pressure on her chest at the thought. She put down the manual and looked at her watch. Ten minutes until they were due to arrive in the Crystal Empire. Dawn looked outside the railcar and sure enough the change in scenery indicated that the train had entered the Crystal Empire. Rolling fields of farmland stretched in every direction towards the ragged, white-capped Yaket mountains which were covered in an atmospheric haze. Looking forward along the tracks, Dawn could see the first outlines of the city’s skyline. A great spire rose up from the center of the city, its white and blue crystals reflecting the brilliance of the sun even at a distance.

The other ponies had seen the approaching city, too, and were beginning to prepare for detraining. Tunics were pulled on, cross-belts and cartridge boxes attached, and shakos uncrumpled and placed close at hoof. Dawn stowed her manuals in her saddlebag and then rebuttoned her tunic. She fastened her saber belt, adjusting the strap across her chest and withers to keep the scabbard from rattling every time she took a step.

The train slowed as it approached the station. A pair of towering crystal formations, with three gems floating between them, stood next to the station like sentries guarding the entrance into the city. The platform came into view outside the window followed by a sudden jolt as the train came to a halt. “Alright, everypony outside. Two ranks, single interval. Let’s move!” Dawn commanded.

The soldiers quickly jumped to their hooves and filed out of the rail car. The clatter of steel-tipped hooves filled the fresh, cool mountain air as they shuffled into formation. Lieutenant Dawn was the last out of the train and trotted over to where her little contingent stood. Cornets Belle and Star stood on the right side of each line with sabers drawn and telekinetically held at attention next to their withers. Star raised her saber in salute to the approaching lieutenant, which Dawn returned with her hoof, not wanting to embarrass herself by clumsily pulling her saber out. Besides, she needed her mouth to give orders.

“Welcome to the Crystal Empire. From here we march to our camp. First rank, you will follow Cornet Star and unload the cargo from the train. Second rank, I want you to load the boxes onto the wagons once they arrive; Cornet Belle will direct you. And while you are waiting …” Dawn looked at the faces of the ponies. Most held their bearing well, but enough of them betrayed hungry looks to change Dawn’s last order, “…actually, before then, you are free to go into town to get some food.” The hungry faces lightened up at that and even those that had remained stoic let small grins creep into their lips. “You will have two hours,” Dawn stated, figuring that would give her enough time to gather wagons and hire ponies to pull them. “Dismissed!” The ponies scattered at the command, grabbing their buddies and trotting down the roads towards food.

Everything was going according to plan for once. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Dawn saw the blackened engineer pony walking up to her with a sealed scroll in his mouth.

“’fraid ah got some bad news fer yah, ma’am,” the engineer panted as he dropped the scroll at Dawn’s hooves. “Our orders have been moved up – they’re wantin’ us in Canterlot sooner than ah told yah this mornin’. An’ this came for yah.” He pointed a hoof at the ground.

“How much is sooner?” Dawn asked, picking up the message and splitting open the seal.

“One hour, once we get coaled up for the return trip.”

The scroll fell to the ground once again as Dawn let her mouth hang open. Shit! She had let the ponies go before unloading the cargo. Now she needed them back here before all of their supplies ended up on the tracks back to Canterlot. She paused, new knots being introduced into her chest. “Here, take this,” she instructed the engineer while pulling a slip of paper out of her saddlebag. “It’s a promissory note from Their Majesty’s Treasury. I need you to go to the station clerk. She should be able to use this to hire ten wagons for our purposes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dawn picked up the message from the ground and placed it in her saddlebag. Then, composing herself, she trotted off into the city to find her ponies and fix the mess she had let happen.