//------------------------------//
// Order and Place 
// Story: Upheaval: Breaking Point 
// by Visiden Visidane 
//------------------------------//

Upheaval: Breaking Point

Chapter 22: Order and Place

The following morning, Rainbow made good time towards the plaza. She had explored all of the places she had been instructed to yesterday. She even got in an hour of target practice, getting a good feel of shooting with her crossbow. She thought she did pretty good. She was no crack shot, but not bad for her first day. "Don't pat yourself on the back yet, recruit," the reconnaissance officer had told her. "Your real targets won't be made of wood."

For today, Rainbow was hoping to improve her aim. Surprisingly, her fellow recruits were not lined up by the firing range. Instead, they were clustered over the side of one building. She flew over to check what was the commotion about. They were looking at several papers that had been posted on the wall. "What's going on?" she asked a nearby recruit.

"They've finished assigning us to the different flights," the recruit answered.

"What does that mean?"

"Yesterday was an assessment period. Didn't you see the flight captains watching us while we were practicing flying and shooting?"

Rainbow shook her head. "I was out scouting places," she said. "Wait a minute…does that mean that everypony has been scouted out, and I didn't get to show my stuff?"

The recruit shrugged his shoulders. "Looks that way. You may as well check the posts for your name."

Rainbow squeezed through the throng of gathered pegasi until she got close enough to the lists. Each paper had the name of a flight with a list of names of those who were assigned to it. Rainbow Dash scanned the papers, her heart racing faster as she went from one flight to the next. Each flight had a cool name: Flight Bladefeather, Flight Frostshear, Flight Stormdawn. Finally, after being jostled about a bit, she found it.

Flight Dreadwing: Rainbow Dash

There were other names in the list, but Rainbow didn't bother. Dreadwing…that sounded cool. She hoped that they had cool outfits as well. She squeezed her way out of the gathered crowd with barely contained excitement. As soon as she was free, however, she found herself face-to-face with Scarlet Rabbit.

"Did you find out which flight you were assigned to?" Scarlet asked.

"Yeah," Rainbow muttered. She hadn't forgotten Scarlet's self-hobbling. "Flight Dreadwing." 

The grin disappeared from Scarlet's face. "Dreadwing, huh?" he replied. "That's Tailwind's flight."

Rainbow Dash's eyes widened. "Tailwind? As in Vanguard's mom Tailwind?"

Before Scarlet could answer, a familiar voice came from behind him. "That's Flight Captain Tailwind to you, recruit." Rainbow looked past Scarlet and, sure enough, found Flight Captain Tailwind walking towards them. She had a smile on her face as she approached her flight's newest member, a smile that conveyed more anticipation than any actual joy. "Come along, Rainbow Dash, the rest of my flight's already waiting," Tailwind said. She flew off to the northern end of the city, leaving Rainbow to follow behind. "I traded that foal of a nag, Wingslice, three recruits to get you. You better prove me smart!"

"Why would you do that?" Rainbow Dash asked. "I didn't even get to show my stuff during the assessment day!"

Tailwind glanced back at her with a knowing look. "Oh, but you did. I watched your little race with Scarlet. Impressive, I must say."

Rainbow's eyes narrowed. "I lost that race," she muttered.

"It's assessment," Tailwind said. "It's not a matter of winning or losing. You did well. As well as Scarlet when he was starting off."

"Really?" Rainbow asked.

"I would know," Tailwind grinned, and looked back at Rainbow again. "He was Flight Dreadwing before he was transferred to Special Operations."

Rainbow's confidence returned. "Then it's only a matter of time!"

"It's going to take more than time, you foal," Tailwind said. She stopped mid-flight so abruptly that Rainbow Dash flew past her, and had to double back. "You're fast, Rainbow Dash, but you're arrogant, and you lack discipline."

Tailwind hovered, and looked Rainbow in the eye. "You swallowed my stupid son's bait like it was Grade A Winter Moss, then proceeded to challenge the fastest pegasus in the Northern Legion before you could even get used to your new equipment's weight, and without even observing him to gauge his abilities. There's brave, and there's reckless. The Legion honors the brave, and turns the reckless into cautionary tales." Tailwind's lips curved into a slight smile. Rainbow swallowed a lump in her throat and backed away. "But that works for me," she continued." I can't make natural talent grow where there's none, but I'm confident in my ability to beat discipline into a promising recruit. Literally, if I have to."

With that, Tailwind flew ahead, leaving Rainbow Dash wondering what she had just gotten herself into. 





For Sharpfangs, feeding the Legion had always been among the most under-appreciated jobs to have. Legionnaires were not picky with their food. They may complain and joke, but they ate what was provided. They needed a lot, however, and they needed it quickly. Empty bellies were a disaster in a battle, and it fell to Kitchen Division to prevent that. Supplies had to be regulated, and the commissary stocked.

And that was during the best circumstances, which they certainly weren't experiencing at the moment. It was only when they were evacuating the fort did they notice that a large amount of their supplies had been ruined. Not only that, Kitchen Division itself didn't escape without casualties. Sharpfangs himself should have been killed in action if his wife hadn't shown up, and dragged him out of the fortress. When they made it to Bastion City, they were short-hoofed, and under-supplied.

Today's breakfast was a small taste of things to come. The Legion's ranks had recovered a bit with the latest draft, and the addition of the city's defenders, but Logistics was the last to benefit from new troops. Infantry got most of the earth ponies, Reconnaissance all but monopolized pegasi recruits, and Magical took all the unicorns. Logistics had to work with leftovers: recruits deemed unfit for front-line combat, and were better off with, what most legionnaires believed, were menial tasks. By the end of recruitment day, Logistics was supporting almost the same number of legionnaires it was when the fort was functioning, but with barely half its casualties replaced.

Sharpfangs didn't mind. Rare was the pony who looked forward to a time when this wolven attack was repulsed so that he could boast of how he cooked for the triumphant soldiers, or repaired their tools, and transported their luggage. Especially not if that same pony could join those who did the fighting. Besides, it wasn't like Logistics came out completely empty hoofed. As his fellow cook, Grassmane, was quick to remind him.

"So what do you think of the chosen recruit, Sharpfangs?" Grassmane asked. He dipped a ladle into a cauldron of bubbling vegetable soup, and gave it a sip. Frowning, he turned around, and grabbed some pepper from a nearby cupboard.

"She looks like a hard worker," Sharpfangs replied while slicing up some fruits. The fresh fruits were the first to go. Winter would soon force them to rely on preserved goods. He eyed the recruit that Grassmane mentioned: a pink-coated pony who had just been assigned to their kitchen this morning. The balloons that marked her flank were a curious sight, curious enough to make him almost forget that it was rude to stare at a mare's flank, and that Tailwind would kick his if she saw him.

Recruit Pinkie Pie, as she had enthusiastically introduced herself, handled a mound of dough with practiced ease. She presented a stark contrast to the other cooks around her who moved mechanically in their duties. Having been informed that she used to live with bakers back in the Heartland, Head Chef Fullblanch had assigned her to baking duty. While Sharpfangs agreed with the decision, especially seeing how well she did, there was another concern.

Most of the time, recruits assigned here worked glumly, as if their transfer was a punishment instead of an assessment of how they could best serve the Legion. Not so Recruit Pinkie Pie. She didn't walk to her station, she bounced towards it. The gusto by which she went about her new duties was a little cute and refreshing, a small reminder that what everypony here did was just as important as routing a wolven attack. She also hummed a lively tune that Sharpfangs found himself tapping a hoof to. In there lay a brewing problem.

Pinkie's fellow worker at the bread station was a burly earth pony stallion almost twice her size called Graveleaf. He was a transfer from the Western Legion who served in Infantry until he lost one of his hind legs to frostbite. Graveleaf had no intention of retiring, and worked with Kitchen Division, relying on a wooden leg to help him hobble about. He was a hard worker although his bread tended to be on the tough side. Sharpfangs and the senior members got along well with him, but his silent demeanor, and his battle-hardened, scar-covered visage proved intimidating. Three Kitchen Division recruits had asked for a transfer to other Logistics divisions after a few days of having to work next to him. Pinkie didn't seem to mind one bit. She bounced around their workplace and all around him while humming.

Sharpfangs kept an eye on the two while he prepared the meals assigned to him. The chosen were friends with his son. He had to step in should Graveleaf turn on Pinkie Pie, and pound her out like one of his dough mounds for being so lively.

After some time, the normally stoic Graveleaf was looking a little distracted. He glanced at Pinkie as he worked on some more dough. Sharpfangs edged a little closer to their station. Next to him, Grassmane seemed to have noticed as well. Graveleaf approached Pinkie while she was watching a batch of bread loaves begin to rise.

"Recruit…" Graveleaf's gravelly voice quickly caught Pinkie's attention. She turned around and looked up at him, all smiles and curiosity.

"Yes?" Pinkie asked.

"What is that ridiculously catchy tune you keep humming?" Graveleaf asked. "Is that some kind of ritual humming you chosen do?"

"Ritual?" Pinkie asked. "Oh, no! It's my Legion Bread Baking song! It's a work in progress though."

"Does it have words to go along with it?"

"Sure!"

Fullblanch raised his head from the main station. "Well, don't short us with the watered down version, recruit!" Fullblanch called out. "Let's hear the entire thing!"

The other cooks voiced out their agreement. Pinkie Pie saluted, then burst into song as she pulled out the latest batch of bread from the oven. Sharpfangs listened intently to her lyrics. True enough, it was a song about…baking bread. Barely a day spent in her new environment, and she already had this. He quickly found himself tapping a hoof to the song. He stopped, and looked guiltily at Grassmane, only to find his fellow cook bobbing his head in tune.

As work progressed in the kitchen, Pinkie Pie's cheer added an extra spring to even the most menial chore, even Graveleaf flung down some dough with a bit more enthusiasm.

From his station, Head Chef Fullblanch gave a hearty laugh. "Welcome to Kitchen Division, Pinkie Pie!" he called out.





At the southern section of Bastion City, Hammer Chain had just started up his forge for another day of work. His new workplace was a bit smaller than his old one in Fangbreaker, but he was glad to have something to work with. While he was inclined to take a place at the front lines to bash a few of the filthy dogs that were likely using his old forge himself, he had a much more important job.

Armory Division had its work cut out for it. Weapons and barding had to be repaired, new recruits had to be armed and armored, and ammunition had to be replenished. Hammer Chain himself had spent all day yesterday re-forging barding for the rest of Fangbreaker's survivors. Wolven jaws clamped down with the force of a smith's vice, and their teeth were hard and sharp. Even the best barding suffered damage while protecting their owners.

It was late morning, and Hammer Chain had just finished a piece when a knock on his door told him that his next order of business had just arrived. He opened the door for a tall, gray earth pony with bright red eyes. "Captain Vanguard Clash," Hammer Chain said. "I didn't expect to see you any time soon. Don't tell me that my masterpiece has finally been damaged!"

Vanguard smiled wryly, and set a sack on the floor. Hammer Chain's bushy eyebrows furrowed as he pulled out a piece. For some strange reason, the black plates had been damaged by heat. He had crafted Vanguard Clash's barding out of nightsteel, a more expensive variant of regular steel that was stronger and insulated better, on commission by Commander Dreadstep, and out of gratitude for that time Vanguard rescued him from a wolven ambush. It required quite a flame to do this much damage. He searched the sack further, and found the tattered, burned wreck of a caparison.

"This is quite a mess," Hammer Chain said. "What did you do, Vanguard? Jump into a furnace?"

"Close enough," Vanguard said. "Can it be repaired?"

"It can," Hammer Chain answered. "It should be ready before the day ends."

"Thank you. How much will it cost?"

"Don't even think about payment. I'd have hunted you down if you went to another smith."

"Thank you again," With a smile and a nod, Vanguard went on his way. Hammer Chain laid out the barding and inspected each piece. The damage wasn't serious. The caparison may be better off being replaced. Not only was it badly burned, it looked like a wolven had clawed off pieces of it. Seeing no available materials for the cloth, he cursed under his breath and made sure that the forge was well supplied while he was gone. It was times like these that made him wish that his last apprentice hadn't been eaten.





While most of her friends had enthusiastically headed off to their new respective posts, Rarity had gone to hers with a much slower step. Vanguard Clash had directed her towards Officer Frostmane, who assigned her to Logistics's Maintenance Division. She was then tasked with repairing miscellaneous damaged items such as tents, blankets, and fur coats. A small pile of such things lay to her left while another pile of the same things that had been repaired lay to her right.

Some good had come out of the transfer. It had given Rarity access to a needle and thread. She was even given a pair of scissors. She sighed inwardly when she levitated the familiar tools with ease. Even with the magical drift hobbling her magic, she could still manage this. One of the first things she turned her sewing skills on was none other than her new mage-coat. She had been allowed to keep the one given to all Magical recruits. Actually wearing it was a pretty painful experience to her fashion sense, however.

The coat was a thick cloth padded with leather. Its shape was basically a blanket draped over her. It felt like she was wearing a blanket as well: a thick, heavy blanket that slowed her down far more than necessary.

There was nothing to be done about the color or material, but how the fabric fell, and weight distribution could be adjusted. Every scrap of free time she got went to modifying her coat to suit her taste. She snipped off parts she didn't think were necessary, and reinforced the padding where she believed needed more protection. Adjusting how the coat fell was a bit of a challenge, but manageable. She was holding up the finished product, and inspecting it lovingly when somepony spoke from behind.

"That's an interesting mage-coat you have there, chosen, where did you acquire it?"

Rarity floated the mage-coat close and whirled. Behind her was a unicorn stallion with red-orange coat, and a cropped mane of ashen blue. His face was covered with a thick blue beard, long enough to form a few inches of goatee. "Um…nowhere really," she said. "Just a mage-coat from the pile."

The unicorn extended a hoof. "Let me see that."

Rarity was quickly becoming familiar with that tone. It was no request. She floated the coat over to him for inspection.

"These are quite the changes you've made," the unicorn said. He turned the mage-coat over with his telekinesis, eyeing each modification without showing any sign of approval or disapproval. "I see you've taken off some of the padding by the rear. Any explanation why?"

"Well, um…sir," Rarity replied. He looked like a senior legionnaire, so she decided to stay respectful. "When I saw the wolven attack in Fangbreaker, I noticed that they prefer to lunge at the throat or jump on the back instead of going for a pony's heels. So I took away most of the padding in that area to reinforce those areas. It also gives the wearer more mobility, and leaves the hind legs free to buck in case of an emergency."

"True," the unicorn said. He returned the mage-coat, and eyed her instead. "What do you do here, recruit?"

"I've been tasked with mending these things." Rarity gestured to the piles to her sides. "Am…am I in trouble, sir?" 

"I was thinking of having you whipped for tampering with barding design," the unicorn said. "But I've changed my mind. Come with me, recruit." He walked off, leaving Rarity to follow behind.

Rarity quickly noticed that they were heading for the maintenance officer's office. Once they got there, the unicorn flung the door open, grabbed Rarity by a foreleg, and dragged her to his side. "Halfstitch, this recruit tells me that she patches up tents and coats for your division, is this true?" he asked.

Halfstitch, a lean, grizzled earth pony with a purple coat, and a deeper purple mane, frowned at the sight of Rarity. She shrank a little at this. "It's true," he said. "What's the matter? Was she lying about somewhere? These spoiled chosen…it's the whipping post if that's--"

"You mule-headed foal, this mare's too valuable to be patching random holes in a corner. I want her transferred to Armory Division under me."

Halfstitch leaned forward from his desk, and looked shrewdly at the unicorn. "I don't know, Hammer Chain, this recruit's pretty valuable. It's not like we got a bunch of them from yesterday's draft."

Hammer Chain snorted. "How about I give you that harness you've been eyeing in my shop yesterday?"

Halfstitch grinned, and stood up. "I'll get the paperwork ready."

Hammer Chain grinned as well, and looked at Rarity. "Good. Come with me, recruit."





The bright flames of the small smithy she now stood in quickly drew sweat from Rarity. It was a rather disorganized place, with several tools scattered around piles of metal ingots. She didn't dare point this out, however. The way Hammer Chain stepped past the mess showed that it was organized chaos. He could probably pick out the smallest hammer he needed from this mess if he wanted to.

Hammer Chain flung the rolls of fabric that he had just acquired towards one corner. "What's your name, recruit?" he asked.

"My name is Rarity, Sir Hammer Chain, is it?"

"Actually, it's just Hammer Chain. I don't know where you got that 'sir' part. What did you use to do in the Heartland?"

Rarity pawed the floor a bit. She was proud of her occupation, but the Legion didn't seem to think much of it. "I was a dressmaker."

"Ever work with barding? Pounded metal plates into shape? How about weapons?"

"Certainly not," Rarity said with a sharp inhale. "I made formal-wear for balls. I've certainly never had to work with metal!"

Hammer Chain snorted. "Bah! What's barding but a different dress you wear for a livelier sort of party? And what's metal but a tougher, harder to shape fabric?"

Rarity wasn't quite sure how to respond to that sort of logic.

"Tell you what, Rarity, you've just been transferred to Armory Division as my apprentice. I'll let you deal with mage-coats and leathers, then we'll scrape every bit of time we get out of this war to teach you how to work with metal. Does that sound good to you?"

Rarity's eyes widened. "Um…yes. Yes, it certainly does!" Her new workplace was a cramped, stiflingly hot, and smelled of iron and ashes, but she was not here out of convenience this time. Here, her talents could shine.

"Good," Hammer Chain said. "You can start with Vanguard Clash's caparison while I start on his barding. Let's get to work!"





By the end of the day, Bastion City's ponies returned to their homes with fearful anticipation. Reports of the wolven army being spotted by pegasus scouts were now widespread. It was only a matter of time before the city was surrounded. The last few supply wagons made their way through the city's southern gates. There would be no more trade from the southern cities until the wolven were repulsed to make sure that wagons were not ambushed. Supplies would have to come by air soon.

It was then that the collective fears of an entire city manifested in the form of a horn sounding off. Everypony knew what the sound meant even though most of the citizens had just heard it for the first time. The first wolven had just appeared over the horizon. Panicked citizens rushed to their homes, dragging their children inside with them. Cries of fear filled the air while legionnaires rushed to occupy their posts.

Reports quickly flooded Dreadstep's office. The same issues resurfaced: some preparations were still underway, some units were under-equipped, the recruits were far from battle-ready. "The wolven won't attack immediately after a long march," he told his officers. "Squeeze every second for all of its worth. Expect them to begin siege preparations as soon as they come close enough."

Every officer saluted, and headed off. Dreadstep leaned on his desk and folded his forelegs in front of him. 'This is the second time,' he thought. 'The wolven won't catch me slacking off this time.'