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Chapter Text

Entrapta wasn’t technically Kyle’s responsibility but there were a lot of things that weren’t Kyle’s responsibility that nevertheless became his problem. The facts were that Catra wasn’t around to give orders anymore, no one had seen Entrapta in days, and Kyle knew that she had to eat like everyone else. It was important to keep her well fed. Scorpia had been very clear on that fact. 

Unfortunately, she lived in Lord Hordak’s sanctum now. Which was great, good for her, everyone was very proud and a little concerned, but it did make getting food to her difficult. Kyle had been called stupid often in his life. He still wasn’t stupid enough to go barging in on Lord Hordak with finger sandwiches. 

Feeling lost he wandered to Scorpia’s quarters, used the keycard she had given him weeks ago to break in, and headed for the kitchen. Kitchens were new to Kyle. He’d been raised on ration bars and sometimes, if you were lucky, nutrient sludge and reconstituted vittle chips. Scorpia was a princess though, even if her Runestone and lands no longer answered to her, and that meant she got certain officerial privileges Kyle could never dream of. 

Scorpia had first brought him into the kitchen when Entrapta first showed up and refused to eat good, decent ration chunks. She wasn’t a great cook, she claimed, and she needed help with some of the prep work. So Kyle had dutifully chopped and grated (he needed to be shown how to use a grater) and watched as Scorpia prepared some slightly burnt “hors d'oeuvres”. The fruits and vegetables she used were strange to him and the spices made his nose burn but it was interesting work and much better than sparring with Lonnie and losing for the tenth time that week. She even let Kyle eat the most scorched of the tiny snacks. It tasted like the forest with textures that did more than stick to his teeth. Crunch and melt and the taste of the ocean filled his mouth. 

After that Scorpia let him help out more and more. She showed him the datapad of recipes she kept, and the cupboards where the food was stored, and even the depot where the officers kept what she deemed “the good stuff”. In return Kyle recruited Rogelio to ice cakes. When they invaded Dryl they came back with a complicated fizzy drink maker along with tiny bowls, spoons, forks, decorative toothpicks, and several dented metal trays that Scorpia used to make cupcakes, tarts, and assorted dainties. The kitchen started to work. 

Entrapta gave them vague smiles and kept eating, which was a good review in Kyle’s book. He wasn’t used to positive feedback. If you waited around for praise in the Horde you could wait for a long time. Entrapta was nice enough, in between using him as a moving target and robot calibrator- she didn’t even call him names!- and she ate his food. 

Plus, she was probably Lord Hordak’s girlfriend and that meant everyone had to keep her alive. 

Now that Scorpia was gone, that task fell to Kyle. 

Well, he still had the recipe datapad. He was good at following orders. Decent at following orders. Not terrible at following orders. 

He struggled in the kitchen for a while- without Scorpia’s help everything was daunting. The whisk was hard to use, the knives fell out of his hand and onto his foot, the food in the cupboard was all strangely labelled and some of the containers were mostly empty. He’d have to figure out a way to get more of the fancy food from the officer’s depot. Maybe Lonnie could help with that. She was good at getting her way. 

When he finally finished a plate of itsy-bitsy turnovers, he was once more at a loss. He couldn’t just walk up to the sanctum and ask for Entrapta! That would be a bad idea. She was only moderately, scientist scary on her own (murder robots aside) but Lord Hordak was terrifying. Catra was gone- dead by now, everyone said- and Scorpia had gone with her and Kyle wasn’t going to be the next casualty of their leader’s temper.

When they were seven Lonnie had told him in a mocking tone that he wouldn’t live to twenty. Kyle was pretty sure she was right but a small, spiteful part of him was determined to prove her wrong. 

After a lot of thinking and some banging his head against the wall, he hit on a solution. Entrapta had her own lab. Surely she still visited there sometimes! Even if people didn’t see her anymore she was known to climb though the vents. He could leave the food there for her. 

It was better than doing nothing. 

For Scorpia’s sake, Kyle steeled himself, crept through the halls with the plate of food, and deposited it in Entrapta’s lab. Then he went back to his quarters. They were between assignments (what with the whole Catra being sentenced to death thing) but Rogelio insisted on keeping a schedule. 

The next day the food was gone. 

Kyle made miniature food, made less of a mess this time, and once more left it in Entrapta’s lab like an offering to a goddess of clemency. The cycle repeated twice. Just as he was starting to get confident in his ability to use measuring spoons (and not light himself on fire with the stove) he was interrupted by none other than Entrapta herself.

She climbed out of the vents as he was preparing what the recipe book promised would be a fine meri-ngue . The results of his last few attempts coated the walls and floors in egg. 

“What are you making?” Entrapta asked as she clambered down with alarming dexterity. A jungle of purple vines filled the little space, moving wildly even as Entrapta stayed still. Kyle froze, feeling ashamed and terrified. This was a princess! Probably Lord Hordak’s princess! Admittedly they’d spent a lot of time together already and she’d gotten him to strip wires with his teeth but now she was different. Association, or at least this association, changed a person.

Entrapta licked the wall. “Ooh, custard!”

“Merungoo , actually,” said Kyle, stumbling over the strange word. “I was going to make little pies.”

Now solidly on the floor, Entrapta started inspecting his baking station. It was… messy. He hadn’t gotten the hang of doing this cooking thing neatly. The fruit preserves, glistening in rainbow shades bright and poisonous as the Whispering Woods, were open on the counter next to the almond flours and sticky honey. A few half finished wraps made of tissue fine flat bread and canned meat, each no bigger than Kyle’s thumb, were on a platter. 

Experimentally, Entrapta picked one up and bit into it while her hair rifled through the cabinets. “It’s good!” she declared. “You could do cuter but I appreciate the effort. I came here because I was getting hungry. Are you the one who keeps leaving food?”

Kyle nodded silently, already feeling tears welling in his eyes. It was stupid to cry, it was just Entrapta. Entrapta who controlled robots. Entrapta who Hordak listened to. 

He’d thought for a while that maybe the kitchen could be safe. That he could be useful without people shouting at him. 

“You should come by the sanctum,” Entrapta advised in a softer tone than Catra would have. “I’m not in the old lab much anymore.”

He looked at his feet. “Am I allowed to do that? I don’t want to upset Lord Hordak.”

“Sure,” said Entrapta, gesturing expansively,, and she could reach quite far all limbs considered. “Scientists need to eat after all. Well, I need to eat. I’m not sure about him.” She looked briefly contemplative and glanced up at the ceiling. “Make a note. See if Hordak needs to eat.”

There was a chittering sound from the cables and pipes above them and Kyle nearly fell backwards as a small grey shape dropped from on high. Hordak’s horrible little enforcer, a foot and a half of terror for the inhabitants of the Fright Zone, settled on the counter next to Kyle’s half finished pie crusts.

Entrapta seemed unfazed. Kyle wanted to scream. In a show of bravery, he said, “Does that… little guy eat?” 

The tiny creature was sniffing the food. Entrapta shrugged. “No idea. I think Imp knows what’s good for him though.”

Making up his mind, the yellow-eyed cherub snatched a wrap and scurried up Entrapta’s arm to rest on her shoulder. He ate the food in two bites. 

“Is that his name?” Kyle asked, curious despite his fear. He’d never heard anyone refer to the creature as anything other than “that thing” or “the awful baby”. Giving it a name, even a silly one, humanized it somehow. 

“I think so,” Entrapta said, and absentmindedly scritched the nightmare under the chin with a tendril of one pigtail. “ Hordak called him that once. Now, what about those pies?”

She referred to the dictator of Kyle’s whole world so casually, he reflected as he made Entrapta a drink and turned back to his haphazard cooking. As he slid the pies into the oven, he rallied the nerve to say, “You don’t call him Lord Hordak. Aren’t you scared?”

“No.” It didn’t even take her a second to answer. “Not usually. A life lost in the pursuit of science is well spent! Besides, friends call each other by their names. I read that in a book on linguistic trends and psychology once.”

“My friends do yell my name a lot,” Kyle reflected out loud. “Still, I’d be scared.” He reached out a hand to pat the frightening baby- Imp- on the head and was rewarded with a bitten finger. 

Entrapta sipped her drink and stared at him, hands tinkering with some little gadget without looking. Normally Entrapta looked at a point just above your head but when she did examine you she did so with the intensity of a researcher looking at a new species. “I don’t know about that. You say you’re scared but you act brave. Not always smart, but brave.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” he protested.

“When EKS prototype 1.3 went rogue in the labspace you threw yourself in front of Catra to protect her. When I asked for volunteers to help pull a lost torque wrench out of the septic tank you didn’t have to be asked.”

“Well Catra’s more important than me,” Kyle confided. “And I was going to get volunteered for that job anyways. I always get the messy jobs.” He said it without regret. You didn’t regret facts. 

“Still, observational data suggests that you don’t flinch from what’s asked of you. Your competence is low but your willingness to help is high. You even brought me food.”

“Scorpia said we should take care of you,” Kyle muttered, feeling a little sad for their lost captain. In the over the tiny pies were already beginning to turn golden brown under the red light. 

“She’s a good friend,” Entrapta agreed and vaulted over the counter to take the pies out, using her seemingly indestructible hair to grip the hot pie tin. “So are you. I think these are done.”

Kyle inspected them with trepidation. One of the problems with cooking food he’d never eaten before was that he didn’t know how it was supposed to turn out. Were strange bubbles normal? What was the ideal consistency of the dough? This batch was minimally suspicious, at least.

“You should put fresh fruit on them!” Entrapta suggested helpfully, chowing down on more wraps. “And whipped cream. My old kitchen staff used to do that and it was great.”

He remembered the Dryl cooks and bakers. They’d been the only people in the castle when the Horde had taken it and they’d fought back enthusiastically. When Entrapta had offered them a job with the Horde they’d acted angry in a way Kyle still didn’t understand. And then, in another strange turn, Entrapta had let them go. “They’ll be happier with the Rebellion,” she’d explained with a shrug. “No one wants unhappy bakers.”

 “I don’t have anything fresh.” Kyle told her. “Without Scorpia I can’t get into the place where they keep the produce. Even the egg is old.”

Lonnie had been deaf to his struggles. She was making her own Machiavellian plans to keep the squad afloat, Kyle knew, but he would have appreciated some of her tactical skill in his own quest to keep their boss's... partner fed. 

“Just tell them you’re with me,” Entrapta suggested, poking the pies. Imp, perched on her shoulder, stuck out his tongue at Kyle while she wasn’t looking. 

“I- I don’t know if it works like that.” Admittedly he wasn’t sure how the Horde did work- it was a mess of internal politics and shifting alliances that he’d never fully grasped- it just didn’t work like that. It was always more complicated.

“We’ll work it out,” she said with the confidence of someone who always managed to make the world fall to pieces before her. Why shouldn’t she be confident, Kyle reflected despondently. She was a princess and she was a clever one. The world was naturally disposed to be kind to her. 

“Lonnie!” He blurted out. “Lonnie will probably be able to figure something out. She’s smart about this kind of thing and she’s been wanting to talk to you anyways.” This wasn’t entirely true. Based on what Kyle had overheard of Lonnie’s feverish mutterings, she’d actually ruled Entrapta out as an ally on the grounds that she was too flaky to stake the delicate reputation of the squad on. Kyle would have to convince her otherwise.

“Have her come around then,” Entrapta said, already distracted by the cooling food and the whirring little machine she’d been fiddling with. “Not during the morning though, we’re running atmospheric stability tests. And not after 3! The new grounding code will be done compiling by then.”

Feeling like he’d made a contribution to the team, Kyle smiled as he cleaned up. When he was done wiping whipping egg off the walls and washing all the dishes, Entrapta was still in the kitchen, though admittedly distracted by a tablet full of scrolling information. The numbers and letters seemed to run over the screen astonishingly fast, occasionally  

“Do you understand all of that?” the words burst out of him. 

Entrapta glanced up. Her eyes were dark red. Kyle was used to people being all shapes and colors- his best friend was a lizard- but there was something unnerving about the shade of those eyes. They reminded him of Lord Hordak and his eyes that glowed red from the darkness. “Of course. It’s simple math.”

“Oh.” he stammered “That’s really cool. I wish I could understand things like that. You must have so much fun, looking at the world knowing all those things about it.”

“I do!” Entrapta said brightly. “You really understand me, Lyle.” 

“It’s Kyle.” Kyle whispered

“I think we should be friends.”

That concept alone was nearly enough to make him choke on air. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea-” Imp was staring at him. Imp who told stories, Imp who was everywhere and told Lord Hordak everything that had happened. “I’m really not a good friend. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to help you, and protect you. You’re important now. You should have better friends.”

“The point of friends is that you don’t care what they’re like,” Entrapta said in a business-like tone. “And it’s good to have as many as possible. Connections are the basis of our society, right?”

“I don’t know,” said Kyle desperately. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t like you. You’re really nice.” Aside from Rogelio, who was always gentle and sweet, almost no one would have had such a long conversation with him. Lonnie and Catra wouldn’t bother. Adora would have Responsibilities and Scorpia would start talking about Catra eventually. No one else gave him a second glance. 

The problem with being friends with Entrapta was that she was Entrapta and everyone knew her current situation. Some people were jealous, others pitied her, some were even now trying to figure out how to use this new leverage in their endless power struggles. It was all a bit above Kyle’s head. 

On the other hand, Rogelio always followed him even when he made mistakes, right?

“I just don’t want to let you down.” Kyle muttered.

Entrapta shrugged. “Your pies aren’t that bad. Friends?” She extended a hand, albeit one made of hair. 

Kyle gingerly shook it, feeling Imp’s eyes on him the entire time. “Sure. Friends.”

“Great! I really don’t want to have to replace another chef.”

It wasn’t praise but Kyle still felt a little proud. He had a job now! An unofficial job, working for an unofficial dignitary in the Fright Zone, whose status was as fragile as her as yet unclarified relationship with Hordak, but a job! He’d never had a job he was good at before. It was very satisfying. 

After Entrapta left through the vents (and took the Imp with her) he finished cleaning up, surveyed his kitchen, and wondered if this was how Entrapta felt in a lab. Like this was what she was meant to do. Like she could conquer the world.

A day later Entrapta came in asking for soup because "Hordak fainted, he's probably sick," and Kyle was once more left looking for answers about what his life had become. 

Chapter Text

Lonnie arrived at the doors to Lord Hordak’s sanctum at 1pm precisely. She’d taken all of Kyle’s stammered advice and half-coherent explanations, distilled from them the bare essence of his point (Princess Entrapta might be able to help them find a new assignment and had specified a time and location for a meeting) and then made a plan that factored in every detail down to the minute. 

The timing was perfect. Lord Hordak held general meetings whenever he wanted but tended to favour mid-afternoon so as to catch as many high officers as possible. He’d been more retiring since Entrapta had started frequenting his quarters, yet everyone knew this period of unsupervised calm could not last long. Eventually he’d have to come out and give some orders. Catra was gone, after all. 

Catra. The thought of her made Lonnie’s stomach plummet. They’d never been close, in fact they’d been rivals for everything since they were old enough to understand that the only way to get ahead was to be the best. Adora was the unquestioned favorite which meant that the position of second highest ranking was up for grabs. Lonnie had put her heart and soul into training, had worked until her muscles ached and her memory seemed fit to burst, and yet somehow Catra always outwitted her. She was too fast, too confident, and far too motivated to stay close to Adora. 

Only Shadow Weaver’s inexplicable dislike for Catra had given Lonnie hope for success. Then Shadow Weaver had fallen from grace and Catra had begun her meteoric rise, somehow becoming more of a star than they’d ever hoped Adora (the traitor) would be. 

Now that girl who Lonnie had wrestled with, tried to trip up in the cafeteria, and once nearly pushed off the third highest tower in the Fright Zone, was as good as dead. She’d gone down swinging (no one had ever doubted Catra would) but that hadn’t saved her from the Crimson Wastes. 

Catra’s final, defiant outburst in front of the assembly of officers still echoed in Lonnie’s ears. She’d called Hordak a coward, a weakling. She should have been torn limb from limb. She might have very well taken the rest of them- Lonnie, Rogelio, and timid Kyle- down with her. The Horde wasn’t known for being fair and it did sometimes favor collective punishment. Thanks to the purple princess and her inexplicable hold over Hordak, Catra’d gotten off easily- though she’d still taken poor Scorpia down with her. Hordak wouldn’t forget, however. 

No, it would be best if he was gone when Lonnie met Princess Entrapta. Catching Hordak’s attention, paradoxically, wasn’t a good career move. 

She saluted the guards, older grizzled soldiers when she reached the door. “Hello. Princess Entrapta wished to speak to me about a non-urgent matter. Is she alone?”

The guards glanced at each other. Even with their helmets on, Lonnie thought she could read their expressions. Catra’s minions weren’t unknown and the uniform of a low ranking cadet didn’t conceal as much of her face as she sometimes wished. She was recognized. 

It wasn’t anything new. There had been whispers as she’d walked through the halls. Mantenna, Rattlor, and Vultak, all gossips in their own right, useless holdovers from the years when the Horde had been less glorious and powerful, were probably agitating to have what remained of her squadron moved to the furthest front. 

Lonnie couldn’t allow that. They’d all be demoted, disgraced. Perhaps she and Rogelio would survive life on the battlefield of far Galacia but Kyle certainly wouldn’t. They were Shadow Weaver’s best upcoming cadets, they could do better than this. They had to do better. 

The screen above the sanctum door flickered to life. Entrapta’s fuzzy face beamed down at her. 

“Oh, hiiii! I said you could come see me, didn’t I? Let her in, boys.” There was something singularly obnoxious about the princess’s voice, Lonnie reflected as she stepped smartly through the open doors into the menacing darkness of Hordak’s lab. It lingered on certain words like it had time to kill, buzzing rather than marching crisply. It was undisciplined and manic. 

Not that she’d ever say anything of the sort out loud. 

Princess Entrapta’s shifting sea of hair was the first thing Lonnie saw in the gloom. The second thing she saw was Hordak, standing next to the desk where Entrapta was working. 

She snapped to attention and gave a stiff salute. Apparently her Hordak avoidance calculations had been off. The lord of all Horde territory didn’t give her a second glance. 

“You cannot simply rename a creature according to your whims” Lord Hordak was telling Entrapta. “He will grow confused.”

“You’re the one who said his name was Imp!” Entrapta protested. She seemed distracted, not even looking at Lord Hordak. 

“I called it an imp- that is not the same as a designation. A name must be earn-”

“Well I need to be able to call him something.” Entrapta looked up and gave Lonnie a little wave. 

Hordak stared at the floor, bashful as a boy. It was like watching a dream play out, Lonnie decided; everything about the situation was so absurd it simply couldn’t be processed. “Hmph. We will speak of this on my return.”

At least he was leaving. With any luck he’d forget Lonnie had ever been there. 

“Have fun! Think about names. I like Timothy! Or Andrew!” 

Lord Hordak whirled around and stalked towards the door, not even acknowledging Lonnie’s stiff salute. When the doors hissed shut behind him, she let herself relax a little. 

The moment of relief was short lived. She was still in the most forbidden sanctum in the Fright Zone, alone, with a mad princess.

 Entrapta spun in her chair, hair flying out around her like a purple vortex. When she finally skidded to a halt she propped her chin on a curling shelf of hair and leaned forward. “Lyle said you wanted to chat?”

“Yes, princess.” Whatever benefit she brought to the Horde, Entrapta didn’t deserve the dignity of a “ma’am”, much less a formal military title. She was a princess, nothing more, and it paid to remember that. “I wanted to ask a favor.  Unless you’re too busy, that is.” She scanned the pile of scrap on the table. She could see generator parts, some wiring, old circuit boards derived from First Ones tech, and a stack of oddly glowing purple crystals. Only about half of it was even readily identifiable, and she’d had the highest engineering scores in a squad of overachievers. 

“It can wait,” Entrapta assured her, friendly despite Lonnie’s acerbic tone (it wasn’t her fault that she had little patience for princesses or nonsense, much less princess nonsense). 

“Right.” Lonnie dared to take a step closer. “Since Catra’s… exile,” It was a death sentence but she couldn’t say that, not out loud. That would mean admitting that Catra, clever and foolish, ambitious and too soft, vicious and prickly, was gone. That Scorpia who was clumsy and kind, was gone with her. “Our squad has been unassigned. Now I know you’re pretty new here , but the Fright Zone doesn’t let anyone stay useless for long. We’ll be moved soon- to the front unless someone higher up steps in.”

Entrapta nodded vacantly, already getting distracted by one of the flickering holo-screens. “Right, right. Do you want me to talk to Hordak then?”

“What? No! Are you crazy!” Drawing Lord Hordak’s attention was the last thing they needed. “Look, you’re important now. You can ask to have us transferred under your command.”

It was like explaining mancala to a baby. Comprehension dawned slowly. “Are you sure I can do that?” 

“Yes! You’re Lord Hordak’s… whatever!” Despite her best efforts, it was hard not to grow frustrated with Entrapta. She was an evil princess. Had she really never played politics before?

“Lab partner,” Entrapta clarified. So that was what they called it nowadays. 

“Right. You can just send a letter to the detailer and have whatever you want. And I know you don’t need much but Kyle’s been cooking for you and Rogelio could be a guard when you need one and I have helped you with projects in the past.”

Entrapta nodded slowly, folding some wire in her hands. “I do need food.” 

It was one of the most useful things Kyle’s ever done, making himself helpful to this new power vector in the Fright Zone. Usually he was a drag on the team, a drag that they loved and tolerated because it was better that he was safe with them than stuck in the mines, but still infuriatingly helpless. 

“Right! I know Kyle’s, well, Kyle, he’s hopeless, but I promise he won’t screw it up.”

“He said something about needing more supplies too? Could you sort that out?” 

Lonnie thought long and hard. Logistics were complicated and commissary officers tend to be bullies. “I’d need higher authorization- orders from you would work- but yeah, I could.”

Maybe she could get Rogelio to help. He was reliably strong and always ready to give her a hand. They made such a good team that they’d dated when they were fourteen, on the grounds that it just made sense. They’d fallen apart because they didn’t make much more than sense, and because Lonnie was starting to realize she liked girls. 

“Great!” Entrapta spun around in her chair again. “I don’t think I need guards, I’ve been okay with just Emily and the boy in the vents, but I’m sure you and your lizard friend can find other activities to occupy yourself.”

Lonnie could leave it there. She should leave it there. But something about Entrapta’s words bothered her. Even a stupid princess should have some idea what sort of displays power requires. 

“You don’t have any guards? Not even if you’re walking around the Fright Zone?”

The princess was back to her work, attention securely fixed on a fiddly robot. “No? It’s not a big deal, I barely ever use the hallways anyways and I’m only in my lab to sleep these days…”

“You don’t sleep here?” That’s another, oddly intimate detail that Lonnie never expected to be given. Surely she would be staying in Lord Hordak’s quarters by now? 

Then Lonnie remembered how Entrapta slept, cocooned in her own hair, surrounded by pillows, with static playing at full blast. Scorpia had put the princess down more than once before when she started to get sleep deprived and hyperactive; it took a lot of delicate maneuvering and complaining before she would crash. Maybe she just needed her own space. Maybe sleep was different than… other stuff. 

Lonnie had never wanted to put this much thought into Lord Hordak’s theoretical sex life. 

“No.” There was a distant crash as Entrapta’s hair tugged something out of the twisted piping down to her workbench. “Is that bad?”

“You should have a guard with you when you’re outside of Lord Hordak’s lab,” Lonnie explained. “Definitely one outside when you’re sleeping. You’re vulnerable! Anyone could assassinate you, or frame you for treason, or, or-” 

It was hard to find words to capture the enormity of Horde power struggles. Catra had made rocketing to the top look so easy (Catra always made everything look easy even when she cheated, Catra was always so clever) and now Entrapta was similarly blessed but people had lived and died for a fraction of the favor they’d been granted. 

Lonnie expected she would too, in her time, but she intended to do things right. She was going to win fair and square, even if no one else would play by the rules.

“You seem upset.” There was a matter of factness to the way Entrapta said it.

“This place is complicated. Complicated and merciless. It’ll eat you up if you aren’t careful, princess. It just chewed my friend-” It hurt to call Catra that, but it was true. She was a friend, a sister, a squadmate, and that was a bond that could never be broken no matter how selfish and reckless the individual- “up and spit her out.”

Entrapta let a staggering little spybot clamber to the floor and watched as it tottered around. “But you’re cruel as well.” 

“I’m not!” Catra was the spiteful one, and Adora was the monster who had betrayed them all. Even Rogelio took more pride in victory than Lonnie did. Sure, she could be sharp tongued, but not hard hearted. 

“My observations suggest otherwise. You’re unkind to your little friend, the blond one. You didn’t step forward to help Catra, even though you say she was your friend as well.” 

Lonnie stepped forward, forgetting all carefully considered deference. How dare this girl come in and question her team? “Now listen here, princess. You don’t know anything about us. We’re hard on Kyle because we have to be. He’s weak, and you can’t be weak here. The only reason Shadow Weaver didn’t send him to janitorial duty when we were little kids is because the rest of us protected him. We’ve always protected him!”

Memories of evenings spent bandaging broken bones (he was always frail), patching split lips, and picking fights with older kids who stole his rations (they didn’t realize for weeks, he was so good at doing without), came rushing back to her. Maybe it would have been better to let Kyle get taken away, reassigned somewhere he could be more useful to the Horde. But no one respected support staff, here in the heart of the Fright Zone, and a fragile, lonely kid in a new assignment without a squad would have been easy pickings. 

Even the nursery helpers, who took care of the orphans the Horde took in and were the gentlest people in the Fright Zone, were often harassed and pushed around. They could barely stop Hordak’s terrible baby from sneaking in and biting their charges, they definitely couldn't keep their rations and blankets from being stolen. 

The weak were always dominated by the strong. The best way to help them was to give them strong allies. 

It was why Rogelio stuck by Kyle so loyally, because he needed a protector (even if sometimes it was easy to get frustrated with him). Why Catra had clung to Adora so early in life (even when Catra secretly resented her). Why all of them had treasured their slim connection to Shadow Weaver. You needed a squad. 

“And what about Catra?” Entrapta asked, head tilted a little, looking at Lonnie with her cerise eyes. 

Lonnie took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was Lord Hordak’s new favorite, his “lab partner”. She needed to keep her cool. “I couldn’t hope to save her. She was acting rash, like she wanted to die. Well if that was her plan, so be it. I wasn’t about to let her take the rest of us down with her. That’s what you have to do sometimes here. Make tactically sound decisions.”

Maybe that meant her squad was a little smaller- just her, Rogelio, and Kyle now. Maybe it meant she'd lost Scorpia, who had so quickly made herself invaluable and loved. But it was worth it if it meant protecting the boys and living a little longer. You couldn't show weakness, not even for a moment.

“How rational!” Entrapta flipped down her welding visor. Lonnie thought it was to avoid her gaze, until the princess yanked a blowtorch across the room. “I do like someone who can cut their losses.”

“You’ll agree to my plan then?” It was almost too much to ask for. Her squad (what was left of it) safe and still in the Fright Zone. A potential avenue for advancement still open to her. 

“Sure. I’m not sure about all that guard stuff-”

“Trust me,” Lonnie cut in, “You need helpers. Real ones, not just robots. It’s a prestige thing.”

“Riiight. I am pretty excited about the food though. Your Kyle is a very bad cook but he can improve.”

Given that none of them had eaten anything but ration bars before, Lonnie was mildly impressed that Kyle, being Kyle, had managed to avoid giving Princess Entrapta food poisoning. 

“Send a communication to the detailer’s office and it should work out fine.” She couldn’t help but be optimistic. Old Colonel Blast was uncomplicated, he hadn’t even given Catra any trouble when she was fumbling at the reins of power. He’d fall over himself to give Entrapta what she wanted. “I’ll leave you to your work then.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you did,” Entrapta said earnestly. “I like talking with friends but my research is at a critical stage.”

“Right. See you later, I guess.” It was awkward to just wave to Entrapta and be on her way, but Lonnie wasn’t about to salute a grimy scientist with no rank. Allies or not, there were standards. 

In the early hours of the morning they were called to take a dozing Entrapta back to her quarters. Rogelio gently took her shoulder and walked her out of the dark lab, and Lonnie was about to follow when Lord Hordak stepped out of a shadow and cornered her. 

“Cadet.”

“Lord Hordak, sir!”

“You were Catra’s underling, weren’t you? And now I find you at Entrapta’s side. She says you work for her now.”

“Yes, sir. Kyle has been feeding her, and then I thought she should probably have guards, so…” Lonnie endeavored to look nonchalant without looking insubordinate. “I hope that’s not a problem, sir.”

“Hmmm. It is a coincidence, is it not? First Commander Catra, now Entrapta? You continually find yourself close to power, cadet.”

“Catra did recruit her, sir. The princess. We knew each other already.”

That seemed to work for Hordak. He settled down a little. “Reflect on your loyalties, cadet. Make sure you don’t get any bright ideas.”

“I know who I’m loyal to, Lord Hordak,” Lonnie told him, and shut the sanctum door. 

That much was true. Entrapta was their meal ticket, at least until Lonnie was old enough to get properly promoted and protect her squad herself. If taking care of her was what it took to keep the boys safe, Lonnie would be a princess babysitter. 

It wasn't too bad. At least she was friendly. 

Chapter Text

Working for Entrapta was usually easy. 

For one thing, she was almost never there. Lord Hordak kept her close and she worked all hours of the day. 

When she did call on her self appointed aides, it was mostly for food or a hand in her (mostly unused now) personal lab, the one Catra had appointed her. She might ask for specific materials, which Rogelio and Lonnie would need to scrounge up or beg from the engineering department, or need to be escorted yawning back to her room for a few hours of stolen sleep. 

Her demands were few, her demeanor was easygoing, and she only threatened to murder people out of scientific curiosity. Still, Rogelio couldn’t get over the uneasiness he felt whenever she was nearby. She was too simple. Surely no one could be so straightforward. 

He was himself, by the standards of the Horde, pretty simple. He knew when to keep his mouth shut and when to punch first and ask questions later. But being focused on the fight didn’t mean lacking all self preservation. 

Princess Entrapta was dangerous, certainly to herself and potentially to others. Lonnie seemed willing to put up with it with only the occasional grumble about stupid princesses, and Kyle adored her, but Rogelio’s skin was thicker and his heart more carefully guarded. 

“It’s useless,” Kyle whined, putting down the tangled ball of wire. “I can’t find the ends for you.”

Imp, a creature most of the Fright Zone considered a cryptid but who Rogelio had come to know closely over the last few days, leapt down from the ceiling onto Kyle’s back. “You-useless!” the little thing cackled as Kyle tried to grab at it. “Useless!”

It was distinctly unsettling to hear Kyle’s soft, cracking voice coming from a little grey goblin’s mouth. 

Entrapta’s voice echoed out from the belly of her favorite robot. “We’ll have to wait for your snappish friend to come back then. I don’t know if I can complete Emily’s upgrade without five more feet of insulated alnico. Unless…” 

She trailed off in a way that sounded distinctly concerning. A well versed student in the ways of mad scientists at this point, Rogelio took a few steps back. 

“I’m not useless!” Kyle protested, trying to yank a toolset back from Imp. “You’re just mean!”

“You’re mean!” Imp echoed and waved a set of electropliers in the air before skittering out of the room. Rogelio gave Kyle a nod. He should go after the little scamp. At least if there was an explosion he wouldn’t be in the room. That safety was worth a few scratches from playing keep-away with Hordak’s nightmare toddler. 

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then sighed and sprinted out of the room. It was just Rogelio and the princess now. 

As a kid he’d been taught to fight people like her, not guard them. Trying to change gears now was hard. Lonnie insisted it was important, however, and Lonnie was usually smart, so Rogelio would swallow his warrior’s pride and stand awkwardly next to Entrapta’s work bench. 

“This might not be a good idea,” Entrapta was muttering to herself, “It would require bypassing the new modulator entirely… we never know until we try though, do we? Ha!”

Holding back the urge to hiss, Rogelio backed a little further away, until he was pressed against the wall. When would Lonnie be back? She was much better at handling the princess than he was. 

Unfortunately she’d gone down to the main depot and dealing with the commissar there could take hours. Rogelio had to hold down the fort. Rogelio had to protect their team, had to make sure they survived. That meant protecting Entrapta. 

So when the robot (Emily, she called it Emily) staggered to life with a concerning flicker in its eye-light, Rogelio leapt forward. When the laser began to hum, her tackled Entrapta. And as heat singed overhead he rolled them both under the work bench. 

“Back to baseline then,” Entrapta sighed, as if there wasn’t a rogue robot in her lab. This did happen with disturbing regularity for her. “At least I saved Emily’s last backup before I started upgrades! Big, uh, reptile guy, can you do me a favor and do a hard shutdown on my girl?”

Rogelio’s tongue flicked out in annoyance but he pushed himself out from their hiding place and back into the careening robot’s trajectory. It only took a moment for Emily to focus on him- visuals on this bot model weren’t great but they did the job- and another second for her to boot up her laser targeting system again. He dodged another attack, feeling like a child in training, and eyed the robot for a likely looking piece of circuitry to smash. 

“The big purple button, please! It’s in the exposed control panel!” Entrapta shouted helpfully, sticking her head out from her hiding place. 

“Stay down!” Rogelio shouted back, ducking as another laser barrage scorched the walls. If she got hurt they’d all be in trouble. 

He could see the button, however, lavender set amid dark red wiring. It was close to the underbelly of the bot, set low next to the clanking legs. If he approached from it’s blind spot and slid... 

The important thing was making sure it was facing away from Entrapta first. Her safety was the priority. 

More heat, this time against his right side. That was fine. It was when heat turned into pain that you were in trouble. This wasn’t a training bot- it was set to burn. Rogelio vaulted off of a spinning desk chair, over the robot, and then, before it could turn to attack, crouched and held it steady by the edge of a metal panel. 

Bolts protested as Emily tried to turn, tried to find him and hurt him. By that point, Rogelio was forearm deep in her wiring, pressing the lavender button. 

The robot sputtered for a few seconds and then went dark, legs collapsing out from under it. 

The lab was a disaster now. Most of the walls now sported dark laser marks and a few of Entrapta’s older schematics pinned to them had caught fire and crumbled to ash. The princess had made the right call moving this project to her disused personal space rather than Lord Hordak’s private sanctum. This sort of devastation in Lord Hordak’s space- Rogelio couldn’t imagine it. 

He’d never dealt with Hordak like Catra or Scorpia had. Until Catra’s judgement, his only impressions of the man, the great leader, were images of a shadowy figure and whispers of great fury. 

What had happened to Catra hadn’t done much to sway his opinion. Lord Hordak was dangerous. He pretended to play along with a princess’s whims (for what end Rogelio had no idea) and then he tried to sentence a young woman to slow death far from home. There was strength and then there was brutality. Lord Hordak possessed the latter. 

Entrapta crept out from under the bench. 

“Good job,” she said amiably, as if she hadn’t just unleashed a murderous robot. “You barely even hurt Emily!”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt Emily,” Rogelio muttered, aware of how much he sounded like Lonnie at her most spiteful. 

The princess didn’t seem to catch it. “No, we wouldn’t. I’ll have her back to normal in no time.”

Humming a very off key song that reminded Rogelio of the Princess Prom (so glitzy and foreign), she went back to work. It was then that he realized he’d never get a better chance to ask for largess. 

“Could you maybe do me a favor?” he said, not knowing how to negotiate with an unknown variable like Her. Lonnie, Catra, and Kyle (and before now, Adora) he could trust implicitly, and other Horde members he could bargain with on his own terms. Entrapta was impossible to predict. 

She slid her welding mask up. “Depends on what it is.”

There was no good way to start this conversation, not with someone in Hordak’s confidences. Rogelio straightened his posture, balanced himself with his tail, and took the plunge. 

“It’s about Catra.”

“Yes, that would make sense. She’s one of the friends we have in common.” Entrapta nodded. “Go ahead then.”

Shock flooded Rogelio’s system like cold water. She was okay with it. She was fine with conversing casually about a traitor. Sure, she’d used her frightening influence on Catra’s behalf, but Rogelio hadn’t expected her to remember to care. Empathy wasn’t what you expected from a princess. 

Feeling giddily bold, he continued. “She’s going to make it out of the Crimson Waste.”

She was a survivor. They all were. They’d survived being Shadow Weaver’s 2-5th favorites. They’d survived the Fright Zone, basic training, endless battles, and the Whispering Woods. Sometimes Rogelio thought that all he knew how to do was survive. 

Lonnie didn’t believe it because Lonnie was a pessimist but Rogelio knew in his heart that Catra would come out of the waste hissing. 

“Obviously.” Entrapta rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why people keep talking like she’s dead. It would take a lot more than a desert to kill Catra. That’s why I like her!”

Once more, the princess was talking sense. Rogelio didn’t know what to do with it. 

“Right? She used to stand up to Shadow Weaver. She spat in Lord Hordak’s face. Catra can live through anything.” He was bragging. She was his friend, even if she had been… prickly of late (more prickly than usual, that was). Her victories and her strengths were his. That was what it meant to be a soldier. 

“Hopefully she’ll come back with First Ones tech and we can put this whole thing behind us,” Entrapta enthused.

“You’ll protect her then?” Rogelio said, uncertainly. “I know Catra will always land on her feet but that doesn’t mean she’ll always end up safe.”

Scorpia, if she survived too (she seemed like she would, she was sturdy) was more likely to make it out without self sabotaging. She was gentle and that could be its own power, however much the Fright Zone liked to scorn gentleness. But Catra had eaten the same poison fruit as the rest of them and had grown sick on it, and now couldn’t comprehend a helping hand waved in front of her face. 

“You want to help her.”

Rogelio was a lizard of few words but this situation demanded verbosity. “I just want to know she’ll have someone on her side. Lonnie isn’t making plans to account for her and I… I’m not the planning guy.”

“I’ll do my best.” Entrapta shrugged. “Hordak has a lot of strong feelings about her but hopefully I can get him to see sense. She’s very efficient, your friend.”

Once more, Rogelio felt a surge of pride. Catra was chaotic as the lightning storms which ripped through the Fright Zone in the summer and left static clinging to the walls for weeks, but she got results. Her vicious nature had always made her a fun sparring partner, and it had also translated into an interesting leader. 

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, and returned to leaning against the wall. 

Unfortunately Entrapta, who didn’t seem to have the best grasp of social cues, seemed inclined to continue the conversation. 

Fiddling with a screwdriver, she said, “I don’t know how things work around here,” That was an understatement, “but the friendship paradigms you all exhibit are very interesting! Much different than my naturalistic observations among the princesses.”

“Right.” Rogelio said, at a loss for words. 

“You’re very protective, which is understandable, but also seem willing to write each other off, which is a big friendship taboo.”

That would be Lonnie. She was more mercenary than most, though she had a sense of honor about it. She was always the first to abandon a downed teammate in a simulation if it meant everyone else might be able to survive, and if she was the one in a pinch she would yell at you to go on without her. 

She was strong in ways Rogelio couldn’t understand, and with a moral code as well developed as the yeast culture in one of Grizzlor’s famous illicit rationpaste beer brews. 

“The Fright Zone is different,” he said simply, and hoped that would head her off. 

Stubbornly, she continued. “Furthermore you exhibit strong hierarchical tendencies that suggest a power based social structure-”

The door slid open, revealing Kyle with Imp (hands full of something sticky and grey- hopefully he hadn’t given his rations away again) on his shoulder. Triumphantly, Kyle help up the electroplier. 

“I got it back!”

“Oh, did Imp take that? You should have let him play with it, I don’t need it for this project.”

Kyle deflated a little and Rogelio crossed the room to give him a supportive shoulder nudge. “She’d have needed it eventually,” he muttered. 

Kyle brightened. “Right!”

He was too kind but it was the sort of kindness that brightened others. The show of weakness was sometimes frustrating and always worrying but even Rogelio couldn’t deny being smiled at made him feel happy, cared for. Maybe that was why Shadow Weaver had kept him around when they were children. She knew the benefits of having a weak point to manipulate. As long as Kyle was around and they cared about him, she had the squad neatly locked down. Much as Catra was her key to Adora, Kyle was her key to Lonnie and Rogelio. 

They only half-resented him for it. 

Next to Entrapta, Imp was chittering. 

Lonnie would be back soon with the supplies and then the princess would finish up this extracurricular project and they could go back to playing cards in a back room and making cupcakes. Rogelio’s hands itched to return to the pens and paper he’d swiped from Catra’s desk. His sketches were getting better every day. 

He could survive until then. He could survive anything. 

Rogelio’s strongest memory was an old one- from more than a decade ago. They’d just been moved up out of the nursery, introduced to each other, and settled into their new dorm. This was where they would sleep, work, and study until they were deployed as fully fledged soldiers of the Horde. The beds had been too big for their little six year old bodies, the blankets had been thin, and worst of all it had been freezing. 

The rooms set aside for the orphans of the Horde were moderately warm. It didn’t do to have the children getting sick before they were old enough to get their first stun baton. 

Cadets weren’t given that same luxury. Their dorms were unheated and uncooled. 

Usually the Fright Zone was balmy to smoggy but that winter they had a dangerous chill, one that left Rogelio and many of the other lizard folk of the Horde struggling to keep their blood warm enough. One night as he’d begun to shift into a state of absolute dormancy, there had been a pressure next to him. 

Even as children, Catra and Adora had shared sleeping space. Having Catra crawl into his bunk that night had been a surprise but a warm one. Her short, dense body and thin fur made her a living heatpad of a child and Rogelio, dozy with cold, had curled happily around her.

Then there had been more warmth at his back and the smell of Adora, sweet and just a little different than most warm blooded Etherians, unplaceable amid the denizens of their world. Then Kyle, curling around his head, skinny but still better than the chill night air, and finally Lonnie gathering up all their blankets and laying them over Rogelio before settling herself next to Adora. 

They’d slept like that the whole winter, always returning to their own beds before morning wakeup call so no one could say anything. 

Survival meant being strong and being able to defend yourself, but it also meant having friends. Lonnie dubbed them “allies” because Lonnie was deeply into strategy and fussed over them, but Rogelio thought that kindness was its own tactic. 

He watched Entrapta laughing with Imp, the ghost in the corridors, the specter behind Hordak’s secret knowledge of the Fright Zone, at last revealed to be a chubby cheeked baby with wings. 

If kindness was a weapon (and despite not being a philosopher, Rogelio was pretty sure it was) then Entrapta was one of its most adept wielders. She’d even managed to bring Lord Hordak to his knees. 

Rogelio nudged Kyle. “Let’s go wait outside.” He was pretty sure it was safer there.