Dawn's Candor

by Clarke Otterton

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.

Comments

[shining paladin]

awesome chapter cant wait for the next chapter

[Clarke Otterton]

10504828
Thanks! This chapter was fun to write. Mostly because Major Bolt may be my favorite character.