“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.