//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 
// Story: Dawn's Candor 
// by Clarke Otterton 
//------------------------------//





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.