//------------------------------// // Chapter 11 // Story: Dawn's Candor // by Clarke Otterton //------------------------------// 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.