Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A millennium ago…

For days, the Spire of Convergence had been battered. Even as the city fell to ruin around it, the great tower stood tall, reminding the defenders that their fight was not over. It held fast in the center of the storm.

When the Spire collapsed on the seventh day of the siege, every soul in the city of Eternos knew that their empire was lost.

From the cracked window of the Palace of Forever, King Dion watched it fall, and the rubble turned his nerves to steel. He drew the Sword of Power from its sheath by his throne and marched with purpose to the courtyard.

The Sword had never lived up to the dream of its forging. Even when it was made, Eternia’s magic was long drained, and there was not enough left in the world to create the artificial runestone it would need. The crystal in its hilt wasleft unfinished, a dull red rock where there should be the glow of living energy. It was an utter failure.

Still, it was a weapon, and even then it had one more trick left.

The palace was far away, but through a gaping hole in the wall Dion could see the crushing dust, slowly settling over what felt like the entire city. The tower, so long the point by which the sky was measured, was really gone.

To most, it had been the place where the three nations were united by King Grayskull, thousands of years ago. But to Dion, it was his tower. Where he spent his childhood, where he realized his destiny, where he was married.

Where was Cadmus now? He was fighting, Dion thought, leading the royal guard. He could be…

No. He couldn’t be. Not everything was lost. And if Cadmus was… then Eternia would still survive.

The palace’s great silver doors forced him to stare at the hole in the skyline, and at the Horde battleships looming like iron clouds above the city. He turned his gaze down, following the stairs to the courtyard below. And within, the salvation of the planet.

The steps seemed to draw ever onward. The walk down had never been this long before. The sword’s hilt was slick with sweat clutched in his shaking hand.

The sound of battle rang from just beyond the garden. Flashes of blue and green energy punched through the haze as the royal guard held back the forces of the Horde at the base of the palace. Cadmus would be there.

In the center of the yard stood a statue. King Grayskull held high his mighty greatsword, his mouth frozen in a cry of unity and power, the founder of Eternia etched into twenty feet of gleaming metal. At its feet was a stone bearing a single plaque, detailing his conquering history. Atop that stone was a slot that would hold the blade of the Sword of Power.

Dion’s feet slammed into the marble floor as he jumped the last step. Flanked by vibrant flowering shrubbery, he marched up to the statue’s base and froze.

The sounds beyond the gate had fallen silent.

He felt the presence of the monster before he saw him. It was a cold dread, worming its way through his subconscious mind, winding around his sorrow for his subjects and fear for his husband, pushing both underneath his thoughts until only the one remained. A telepathic chorus drowning out his reason and courage. The sword would be useless, it told him. Submit, it demanded.

The ornate gates were flung from their hinges by a bright green glare. The smoke hung heavy around it as if preparing to dramatically part like the curtains before a play.

Through the cloud came the most terrifying thing Dion had ever seen. Towering in height, his white robe trailed behind his high-heeled boots. Mechanical dreadlocks that Dion couldn’t help but feel were a metal mockery of his own were draped over his broad shoulders. His chest was bare as if to dare his enemies to strike, to proclaim such unquestioned superiority that he could afford the vulnerability of exposed skin. There were four brilliant green eyes set in his stark white skull-like face, two of them glowing with piercing intelligence, the other two small, grotesque, and unblinking, framing his right.

Dion mustered all the bravado he had left, buried the trembling in his voice, and lifted his chin in a manner that might once have been called kingly.

“It seems I’ve been graced with the presence of Horde Prime himself,” he said mockingly. “To what do I owe this honor?”

Prime’s smile sent chills down his spine.

“I wished to see Eternia’s end for myself,” he said. His voice was impossibly smooth.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait,” Dion retorted. He clutched the sword a little tighter.

The identical soldiers of the Horde began to trickle into the courtyard. First two, then two more, then again and again in perfect formation. With each pair flanking Prime, Dion’s heart sank further. Prime spoke as if sensing his worry.

“I must admit, your soldiers were valiant. As unwise as their resistance was, they died well.”

“You’re a monster, and you won’t win,” Dion spat, not even gracing Prime with a response. This was a mistake, and the evil grin grew wider.

“I am a god. Monsters melt before me.”

“Where you go, planets die. People are slaughtered. You kill everything you touch. There are barely words for what crimes you’ve committed.”

“It is salvation,” Prime said. “I wipe the stains from an unclean universe, nothing more.”

“Is that what you call genocide?”

Prime’s tone was laced with polite, matter-of-fact venom.

“I have never purified without first offering a choice. They may accept my gracious hand, and live in eternal joy beneath my light, or they may burn in the fires of their self-centered vice. Ultimately, it is the fault of their own that they choose to deny me.”

Dion’s cheeks burned and he pushed down the urge to scream.

“You’re nothing more than a diseased, egotistical monster,” he repeated. “You preach fire and brimstone and don’t even have the humility to let a real god deliver it.”

That touched a nerve. Prime’s face twitched into the barest glimpse of a snarl before he frowned, almost disappointed.

“I thought you might be more receptive. Oh, well, I suppose you’ll have to go the way of all the others.”

Something in Dion’s heart gave way. He lifted the sword and took a step, and a dozen clones leveled their cannons. Not daring to move, he pointed the sword at Prime’s head.”

“Where is Cadmus?!” he shouted.

“The other king,” the emperor tutted. “He was brave, yes, but too much so for his own good. Still, it’s regrettable. He could have served the Horde so well.”

Dion roared in anguish and charged. Prime bemusedly tilted his head. An energy blast took him in the chest and he was thrown backward, the Sword of Power clattering from his grasp.

His ribs ached, and his heart burned. Cadmus was gone.

Prime strolled across the courtyard, staring down at the fallen king.

“I offer you the same choice.”

Dion spat on his high-heeled boot.

“So that’s how it will be.”

His talons closed around Dion’s throat and lifted him from the ground. The king’s hand scrabbled across the marble, reaching for his weapon.

“I am not one to take pleasure in victory, but this… this is uniquely delicious. So long has your empire dogged my efforts, so long have you opposed me, so long have you resisted. And now, Eternia will finally fall.

“How arrogant you were to name your empire such a thing. To presume you could last forever. There is no forever but Prime. I see all. I know all. Nothing is beyond my reach.

“If you really want to know, I’ve come to see you die. To see a fleeting mortal empire end with a single life. It’s a remarkable occasion.”

Dion felt his air slipping away as Prime’s hand closed on his neck. His body was raised in defeat before the statue of Grayskull’s greatest victory. With the last breath in his lungs, he choked out one more retort.

“We… both… die today.”

Prime’s gloating turned to confusion. His grip slackened and Dion fell, drawing a shuddering breath. His hands clawed at his abdomen, coming away with the tint of green blood.

The galactic emperor gasped as the Sword of Power was pulled from his bare chest and raised over Dion’s head.

“You… you have not… this changes… nothing…” Prime choked.

“No,” Dion panted. “It means Eternia will live on.”

With these words, he drew back the sword and plunged it down into the notch at the top of the stone.

The blade slid down its length, buried up to the hilt. The stone crackled with electricity, the mechanism beneath it whirring to life as the key was inserted. Dion wasted no time taking in the clones in chaos or the last breaths of Prime’s body. He only needed to speak the code phrase.

“ For a second chance. ”

Lightning struck the Sword of Power.

High above the planet, aboard the bridge of a massive battleship, Horde Prime took the mind of a clone. He watched helplessly as the planet Eternia, the planet he had worked for so long to find, the planet he had sought to destroy from the very beginning, crackle with mysterious blue energy.

The reserves of Eternia’s magic, once thought totally expended, discharged at once. The Sword of Power cracked in two as the last of the planet’s energy funneled itself into the empire’s final contingency plan.

With a wink and a blast of light, Eternia vanished, and space was all that remained.

For the first time in his thousands of years of memory, Horde Prime was speechless in defeat.

Present day…

Adora drifted through the expanse. Weightless. Alone.

Before her, a vast, pulsing cloud. A miasma alive with lightning. At its center, a swirling vortex.

She swam towards it. She could not resist. It drew her in like gravity itself.

The whirlpool made no sound, yet it roared in her ears. It sounded like voices. None were familiar, but she knew them.

The howling spiral widened. It beckoned her.

“Adora.”

She fell closer and closer.

“Adora.”

She stretched out her hand.

“ Adora.”

She crossed its threshold, and…

“ADORA!”

She jolted awake, blabbering incoherently and flailing her arms wildly. Her right hand smacked something soft and slightly fuzzy.

“OW!”

Oh no.

“What was that for?” Catra whined, clutching her slapped cheek. Adora immediately untangled the covers (which was harder than it sounds) and hugged her partner tightly.

“I’m so sorry! I was having a dream, and you yelled at me, and I’m never going to hurt you again!”

The injured party returned her embrace.

“Stop apologizing,” she murmured.

“Okay.”

“Seriously, though, what was that about?”

The two women disentangled, Adora working her way free of the covers. She furrowed her brow, trying to think.

“What was what about?” Adora asked.

“The tossing and turning and muttering to yourself. You kicked me and woke me up.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, refraining from apologizing profusely again.

“Was it another one of the nightmares?” Catra asked softly.

“No, it wasn’t that. It was… well, not a nightmare. It was a different dream, a really weird one. It felt like a memory that I didn’t have.”

“What happened in it?”

“I… I can’t remember. I was floating, and then…” Adora tried to focus, but the more she racked her brain the further the dream slipped away.

“It’s okay,” Catra said. They twined their fingers together and sat in silence. Adora wished she could enjoy the moment, but the dream haunted the edge of her mind.

“Sorry I slapped you,” she finally said.

“It was more of a punch,” Catra muttered.

Adora gave her a kiss on the cheek. “There, all better,” she joked.

They both laughed for a moment before an intercom crackled with slightly painful white noise. Entrapta’s voice shouted down at them from the speakers, audio peaks and all.

“GUYS, WE’RE ALMOST THERE, IT LOOKS REALLY NICE OUTSIDE, COME TO THE HANGAR, WE’RE GOING DOWN TO THE PLANET, PLEASE HURRY!”

Both of them grimaced, but the captain’s orders were not to be disobeyed, even if her speaker system was super janky and way too loud. Pulling on their jackets and shoes (well, one pair of shoes), they made their way out into the corridors of the starship Mara, feeling just about ready to face the galaxy.

Chapter Text

Mara was an oddity of a ship. She might not have been an uncommon sight in the galaxy just months ago, but her appearance had changed much since then. Her green glows had been replaced with purple hues, her gleaming ivory hull crisscrossed with haphazardly added machinery, the weapons that once adorned every nook and cranny crudely plated over, and the emblem of She-Ra painted on her starboard side. Few would expect a Horde battlecruiser to look so distinctly un-Horde-like.

Her character was never better expressed than in the corridors. Before her refit, the interior had been barren and lifeless. But today, Perfuma’s potted plants were strategically placed in corners and empty spaces, Scorpia’s endearing doodles were scattered on the walls, and painted stripes provided splashes of color to the white bulkheads. There were even periodic comfy bean bag chairs, something that had become a constant around the entire vessel.

Even though the Best Friend Squad had only been aboard for a week, Mara somehow already felt like something of a home.

Entrapta had fiercely resisted the prospect of getting a new ship until Glimmer had finished her proposal to use a refitted Horde craft, at which point she shouted with delight and immediately embraced the idea. Darla was, after all, a short-range scout vessel. She had been truly excellent for the straight-line two-way trip into Horde Prime’s space, but she just didn’t have the cargo space for the journey on which the heroes of Etheria now embarked.

But it wasn’t just carrying food that was the problem. It was also living accommodations. Darla’s small quarters were already stretched with the six people they had returned with, and that was only possible because Wink (somewhat flippantly called “Wrong Hordak” back in those days) didn’t sleep. On this voyage, the crew had grown significantly.

For one, Swift Wind had utterly refused to be left behind. Scorpia had jumped at the chance to go to space and practically dragged Perfuma with her. Seahawk had angsted over whether to leave Salineas or not for literal weeks until enthusiastically changing his mind for an unknown reason the day before the roster was decided. And then there was Hordak, coming along as the only person who could actually fly the ship and (tearfully, although he’d never admit it) leaving Wink in charge of Dryl in his and Entrapta’s absence.

With this ensemble of Etheria’s greatest heroes, the Squad had launched into the stars, faithful in their mission: to restore magic to the universe.

They’d figure out how specifically to do that when they got to it.

Walking hand in hand through the hallways with Catra, Adora glanced out the window to prove Entrapta’s intercom message right.

The system was located in the middle of a nebula and space was filled with swirling gases of blue, green, and magenta, the light from its star illuminating every angle of the glorious display. A distant moon’s rocky surface glittered silver, and a passing comet left behind a long trail that looked like sparkling dew.

But Craggar itself, perhaps once vibrant and full of life, was cold and still. Her heart shivered as if the chill reached her all the way up in space.

“Wow,” Catra muttered. “I never really thought about how beautiful it was before.”

“What, space?” Adora asked absentmindedly.

“No, your dumb ponytail that’s blocking my view.” She gently smacked the blond idiot’s shoulder and kept walking. Adora smiled and followed.

Darla’s angular hull took up nearly half of the main hangar’s space, but there was still some room for other occupants, a testament to Mara’s impressive size. Her landing ramp was already down, and Catra sprinted inside, leaving Adora to pursue.

On the bridge, Entrapta, Hordak, Bow, and Scorpia were standing around Darla’s main viewscreen, displaying an image of the surface of Craggar. Bow seemed agitated.

“Good, you’re here,” Entrapta remarked, beckoning them to join the crowd.

“Okay, can you show us the thing now?” Bow pleaded.

“I wanted to wait until everyone was here so I wouldn’t have to do it twice. Anyway, take a good look at this,” she said, gesturing at the screen.

The video feed was of a seemingly unremarkable valley, one that was completely covered by snow. Its only remotely notable features were several strangely-shaped rocks poking out from the white blanket.

“Uh… what are we looking at?” asked Catra.

“That’s what we were wondering,” Bow muttered.

“Notice that these stones are inconsistent in coloration with the surrounding cliffs,” Entrapta explained. Now that she looked at it, Adora could see that the rocks on the valley’s sides were almost black, but the odd formations appeared to come in both white and a dark grey. They were uniquely smooth. And at least one looked suspiciously cylindrical.

“Cool, rocks,” Catra snarked “Why are these important?”

“Because of what’s underneath! They may look like rock formations,” said Entrapta, fiddling with buttons, “but if we shift to the x-ray spectrum, to look through the snow, we can see the whole picture!”

The screen blinked into black and white, and the craggy rocks were revealed for what they truly were. The piercing “stones” became dark shells of steel, silhouettes of cannons and munitions scattered beneath their tracks and legs. Horde technology, clearly recognizable by its smooth, sharp lines, mingled with strange vehicles unlike any the Etherians had seen before. Between them were familiar broken bots and, more disturbingly, bodies, some that could be recognized as clones but others of a different humanoid species entirely. Beneath the snow lay the twisted corpses of hundreds of military vehicles.

“That’s a lot of tanks…” Scorpia whispered reverently.

“It’s a massive debris field,” Entrapta confirmed. “Left behind by a battle between the Horde and an unknown combatant.”

“That’s an even bigger Horde army than the one that invaded Etheria,” Bow said solemnly.

“And there was another one just as big! Isn’t this exciting?”

“When did this happen?” Adora asked.

“I ran an analysis when we made this discovery,” said Hordak. “Using what we know of the composition of Horde paints, we developed an algorithm to determine the likely patterns of weathering that would appear after a given period of exposure to this climate. And according to our calculations, this debris cannot have been here longer than six Etherian months.”

“Six months!” Entrapta repeated.

“That means this battle was part of the rebellion!” Adora realized. “Something big was fighting the Horde at the same time we were!”

“Exactly! And if they’re the enemy of the Horde…” Entrapta said.

“They’re our friends!” Scorpia finished.

“We need to go down there and check this out,” Adora said.

“Already on it,” Entrapta replied, flicking switches and powering up Darla’s engines.

“Wait a second,” Catra warned, “we can’t just rush into this kind of stuff. Remember what happened, like, every time we tried that during the war?”

“We won,” Adora said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, but something always goes wrong. Can’t we at least prepare this time? Maybe wait until the weather gets better or something? Make a plan?”

“Science waits for no one,” Entrapta said, gently pushing Bow towards his usual seat in the pilot’s chair. There was a distinct finality to her tone.

Catra glanced at Hordak with pleading eyes. He simply shrugged.

“Better get your suit on,” Adora smiled. Catra grumbled and stalked off to change in the hold, and with a quiet laugh, Adora followed. Behind her, she could hear Scorpia excitedly rambling about her first space mission, and fondly remembered a time long ago when she had been that excited about anything.

Darla’s powerful thrusters kicked up a blizzard as the ship touched down on a high plateau, specifically chosen for its excellent view of the surrounding landscape. Not that there was much to see.

“This place is even more desolate than it looks from orbit,” Catra griped.

It was almost impressive how little was on Craggar. In all directions, the thickly swirling snow blurred the distant mountains. The only colors in sight were the black rocks and the stark white snow. If it weren’t for the aquamarine sky and the purple markings on their spacesuits, Catra would assume she was seeing grayscale.

“Personally, I don’t see the problem,” said Scorpia. “The wind is nice and brisk, nobody’s around for miles, and I’m sure the views will be great when the weather clears up. Yeah, I’d come back here.”

“It’s cold,” Catra whined. Even through her suit, designed to keep out the chilling vacuum of space, she found herself clutching her arms to her chest and shivering.

“C’mere, you big baby,” Adora cooed, effortlessly scooping her girlfriend up in She-Ra’s massive arms. Her amazonian body glowed with a protective golden aura, and all the tension in Catra’s muscles released in surprise at just how warm she was. She let herself hang slack for a second, snuggling into her chest and nearly losing herself in the comforting heat, before a stifled giggle snapped her back to reality.

“She’s purring!” Bow excitedly whispered.

A different kind of warmth flooded her face to the tips of her ears.

“I am not purring!” she shouted.

“It must’ve been someone else’s subvocal expression of contentment, then,” Hordak remarked sarcastically.

Catra looked up at She-Ra’s smugly grinning face and stuck out her tongue. She squirmed to the ground and marched away in a random direction.

“The valley is that way,” Entrapta reminded. Catra turned on her heel and marched away in the indicated direction.

They began making their way to the least rocky path down the plateau, and eventually, the rest of them passed Catra up. However, Scorpia fell into step next to her.

“I thought you hated being held, Wildcat,” the big princess remarked.

“Well, yeah, I did,” Catra murmured. “This is different.”

“I’ll say. Hey, remember how whenever you woke up mad I’d roll you up in a purrito until you calmed down?”

“...a what?”

“A purrito. You know, like a burrito, but with purring.”

“I did not purr.”

“No, but it did calm you down.”

“That’s because you’re freakishly strong and eventually I realized there wasn’t any use fighting you so I stopped moving.”

“Yeah, good times.”

Catra silently admitted that she kind of enjoyed the old days with the “Super Pal Trio”. Back then, things were… no, it was way too cold to get into that kind of emotional baggage right now. She just patted Scorpia’s claw and kept trudging through the snow.

The squad made their way down the least perilous natural trail they could find, picking around rocks and taking several switchbacks before reaching the bottom. More than once, She-Ra had to shove a huge boulder to the side, letting it crash down the cliffs. Catra flinched each time, but she repeatedly reassured herself that there wasn’t anyone around to hear.

After about ten minutes of hiking, Hordak called the group to a stop.

“I think this is the valley,” he said. He scanned the snow, then nodded in confirmation.

Catra looked out at the snow and immediately saw the debris emerging from the tightly-packed powder. From this close, the wreckage was far more obvious. Catra could make out the recognizable shapes of crashed Horde fighters, but there were many more vehicles with which she was unfamiliar. And there were even more foreign machines in the distance, if the massive silhouette at the other end of the valley was anything to go by.

Entrapta squealed with delight and bounced the rest of the way down, pulling strange instruments from her backpack. Hordak followed at his own subdued pace, red eyes scanning the debris field for objects of interest.

As the rest of the squad ventured after them, slogging through the deep snow, Catra noticed Bow seemed distinctly on-edge, which was confirmed when he stepped up next to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hey, where’s Melog?” he asked.

“Oh, Melog wanted to stay behind,” she explained. “They don’t handle the cold well. Why?”

“It’s just… aren’t we a little exposed out here? We’re strolling into a graveyard and I’d feel safer if I was invisible.”

“Paranoia isn’t like you. What’s on your mind?” she asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve just got a bad feeling about this place,” he said.

“Yeah, I get it,” Catra said. “Big battlefields are kind of intimidating.”

“No, it’s not really that. It’s… I mean, look at this thing.”

Bow pointed to a nearby tank, easily recognizable as a Horde vehicle. Catra recalled seeing a platoon of similar machines during her time on the Velvet Glove, during one of the several invasions she had witnessed from the decks. They seemed invincible when lined up in the hangars, their bulk making the endless ranks of bots look like plastic action figures, but a blackened hole through this one’s half-buried turret told the story of its demise to something just as intimidating.

“Imagine if Prime brought that to Etheria,” Bow continued.

“We would’ve had a fight on our hands,” Catra confirmed.

“There’s a whole army of tanks just like this buried here,” he said. “Prime didn’t send them to Etheria, but he used them here, and whoever he was fighting managed to take down dozens of them. He thought they were a bigger threat than us. Whoever did this was more dangerous to him than She-Ra.”

“The universe is a lot bigger than we thought,” Catra said solemnly.

“What I’m saying is… what if whoever he was fighting isn’t friendly? What if the Horde was just a common enemy and they just needed Prime out of the way? Heck, what if they’re even worse than the Horde?”

“Look,” Catra said, putting a hand on Bow’s shoulder, “you’re a little high strung right now. Take a deep breath, look around, and chill.”

“I’m just worried that we’re stepping into a galaxy we don’t understand,” he murmured.

“I’m worried too,” she admitted. “But I also know that my girlfriend is pretty much an invincible demigod. As long as she’s on our side, we’ll be fine.”

Bow nodded, then seemed to realize something and laughed.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me to calm down,” he chuckled.

“Hey, it’s a new adventure, right?” Catra joked. “Now come on, let’s catch up with the rest of the idiots before they detonate a missile or something.”

They trudged out from behind the wrecked tank and saw the others combing through the debris. She-Ra was occupied with lifting a slab of metal that used to be a door, looking down at what looked like the crashed dropship it belonged to. Entrapta was buried in the compartment below, examining her trackerpad and occasionally exclaiming in surprise at whatever new data she found. Scorpia was nowhere to be seen, but even as the thought crossed Catra’s mind she heard a loud clang and a familiar “oops”. Hordak was knelt alone in the middle of a wide clearing, examining what appeared to be a body in the snow.

“Hordak, I think you should come take a look at this,” Entrapta called, waving a pigtail in his general direction. He nodded and moved to rise.

No sooner had Hordak stood when he was struck square in the chest by a beam of orange light, throwing him bodily back into the snow. Adora shouted in alarm, Catra drew her claws, and three mysterious assailants emerged from the wreckage around them.

Over the years, Entrapta had observed a tendency for her extremely good days to rapidly transition into extremely bad ones. She was just becoming suspicious of this particular day, feeling that it may be a little too good and that her Theory of Experiential Quality would kick in eventually. And then her lab partner was shot by an invisible assassin. She had just enough time to think that, if the target had been any other member of their party, she would have taken note of the sudden attack as high-quality evidence.

Given that it was Hordak, however, her researcher’s mindset quickly abandoned her.

No, this was a different feeling. A fairly unfamiliar one. One that remarkably resembled unbridled rage.

On one powerful pigtail, she vaulted out of the dropship and tumbled between She-Ra’s legs. She flipped down her helmet’s thermal visor, flooding her vision with blue, and she zeroed in on a faint blur of orange in the far distance. There was the jerk that shot her partner.

She barely noticed a throwing knife whirring past her ear as she leaped clean over the wreck, sailing over another orange energy blast, and sprinted for the cliff. With the unparalleled agility granted by her superhuman hair, she scaled the sheer rocks in the blink of an eye, and she at last had a clear view of her attacker.

The assailant on the cliff was a tall, slender figure in a fully concealing environment suit. One of their forearms was replaced by a wicked cannon, smoke wafting away from its mouth in the breeze. They raised this arm-blaster and fired off a series of shots at Entrapta, who ducked forward beneath the barrage and had the figure in her grasp in an instant.

One massive pigtail wrapped firmly around their waist, and a female voice grunted in surprise. The opposite tail unraveled into its component strands and curled around the woman’s concealing helmet, snaking into the nooks of her suit and pulling with all their might. The helmet was about to come apart at the seams when, suddenly, the attacker stopped struggling.

“Wait, Entrapta?” gasped the helmeted woman. And Entrapta instantly remembered her voice.

“Oh, hello Tallstar!” she chirped. “I didn’t recognize you.”

“Team, cancel! Targets are blue!” Tallstar, still ensnared, shouted panicked into her comm.

At once, the faint sounds of violence in the valley below ceased. Entrapta turned and slid down the cliff face, dragging Tallstar behind her (although not without protest), just in time to hear Adora admonishing Catra’s battle conduct.

“Catra, get off of him, he’s a friend,” she said.

“Try telling him that!” Catra snapped, holding a struggling attacker that Entrapta inferred was Jewelstar. One hand was wrapped around the boy’s throat and the other poised with claws extended. One of Jewelstar’s knives was hooked behind her own neck.

“Let go of me, and I’ll let go of you,” Jewelstar choked.

Catra growled and loosened her grip. Jewelstar gasped for breath and dropped his knife, and the two combatants sat up straight and glared at one another.

“You’re telling me you know these people?” Catra grumbled.

“We met them before we rescued you,” Entrapta piped up.

Jewelstar turned and, hidden as his face might have been, Entrapta could practically see him frown and sigh in exasperation.

“Could you let go of my sister, please?” he asked politely.

“Oh, of course,” she said, unwinding from the struggling Tallstar and setting her gently down in the snow.

From behind a nearby tank, Bow emerged, limping slightly with the short figure of Starla by his side. They appeared to have independently deduced each others’ identities, but not before Starla had gotten a good hit in. They both examined the situation and dropped their weapons.

Scorpia came sprinting around the corner, panting heavily and her claws sparking with red energy.

“What’s happening? Who are we punching?” she shouted.

“Nobody,” Adora said calmly. “Nobody is punching anyone. It was all a misunderstanding.”

“Oh,” Scorpia said, putting her arms down.

“Lovely reunion, everyone,” came a groan from the middle of the clearing. “I suppose I’ll just lie here.”

Entrapta scurried over to where her partner had fallen. Hordak was flat on his back in the snow, the front of his bulky exosuit smoking and blackened. She ran her fingers over its surface and found that, except for some minor plasma scoring, it was mostly undamaged.

“You’re uninjured, and your armor is intact,” she reported.

“Tell that to my ribs,” he said. Entrapta giggled and sat cross-legged beside him.

“So the clone’s… with you?” Tallstar asked hesitantly, her arm cannon folding into a robotic hand.

“Yep. Hordak, meet the Star Siblings. Star Siblings, Hordak.”

Starla waved nervously. Hordak glanced at her and gave a lame thumbs-up.

“Wow,” Jewelstar said, staring at She-Ra. “Is that you, Adora? Have you been working out or something?”

“Oh, yeah,” Adora said. “Remember that whole magic thing I did back on that crystal planet? Yeah, that was this. I’m She-Ra now.”

Starla gasped loudly.

“She-Ra?! Like, the mythical magic warrior! Ohmygosh, I can’t believe you’re really She-Ra!” she babbled.

“Uh, yep. That’s me,” Adora said, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

“You’ve heard of She-Ra?” Bow asked.

“Of course we’ve heard of She-Ra!” said Tallstar. “She’s the greatest hero to ever live. We’ve heard stories of her adventures for our whole lives. The most powerful warrior ever, Horde Prime’s only fear, that kind of stuff. We kind of assumed they were just stories, but… well, here she is!”

“Shame you couldn’t have stuck around during the rebellion,” Jewelstar said bitterly.

“What do you mean?” Bow said. “You won, didn’t you?”

“That depends on your definition of winning,” he said. “Come with us. We’ve both got a lot to catch up on.”

Entrapta helped Hordak stand up. All hostilities behind them, the nine former rebels began making their way through the labyrinthine junkyard towards a shadowy formation at the end of the valley.

Continued in part two…

Chapter Text

Continued from part one…

Tallstar slipped through the gap between two pieces of mangled metal, searching for an inconspicuous red stripe that marked the way to the siblings’ hideout. All throughout the valley, several scraps of wreckage had been tagged with tiny, easy-to-miss guidelines, making the mess of debris that much easier to navigate for them but being completely useless to anyone unfamiliar with their methods.

This time, though, something was bothering her, and it wasn’t her little sister like it usually was. She waited for Bow, Catra, and Adora to pass before stopping her brother.

“I’m gonna drop down to the back,” she said.

“Got it, I’ll lead from here,” Jewelstar said.

“Remember, when you see the green dots, take a left,” she said, with just a little bit of condescension. “Left. L-E-F-T. Not right, not straight. Left.”

“That was one time,” he sighed.

She smiled and patted her big brother’s head, stepping behind him and making her way to the rear of their line. Entrapta tried to pull her aside, babbling about her arm cannon, but she waved the engineer off. Maybe later.

At the very end of the line, she found the clone with the blackened armor. Now that she could take a closer look, Hordak’s uniqueness caught her off guard. His face was thinner than most clones, a strand of bluish-black hair was visible beneath his helmet, and his eyes were a piercing red rather than the typical inhuman green. She pushed aside her curiosity. She had an apology to deliver.

“Hey… Hordak, is it? Sorry I shot you,” she said.

“No hard feelings,” the clone said. His voice was deeper and more gravelly than usual.

“You’ll understand we’re a little on edge.”

“Fully.”

“We’ve been dealing with Horde clones for the last few months, so I assumed you were one of them.”

“There are clones here?” Hordak said. “Survivors of the battle?”

“Maybe two dozen, as far as we can tell. But they’re not exactly friendly, so don’t get any ideas.”

He furrowed his brow, appearing deep in thought. Tallstar couldn’t shake her wonderings about his features. He looked so different from the other clones.

“Uh, tell me if this is sensitive, but… what happened to your eyes?” she finally asked.

“What, do they look injured?” he said.

“No, but they’re… different.” She searched for the least offensive terms. “All the clones we’ve met had green eyes. Yours are red.”

“Oh, that. Frankly, I have no idea. They simply became that way many years ago, once I separated from the Horde.”

“You broke from the Horde? I didn’t know anyone could do that.”

“I would rather not discuss it.”

“Sorry. I won’t push it.”

Hordak nodded in thanks. Tallstar ached to pry more, but mom always said that respect comes before curiosity. Just like she found herself doing more and more after they lost their parents, she remembered those words and listened.

Catra already didn’t trust these faceless “old friends” that came out of nowhere and nobody had so much as mentioned before (at least not while she was paying attention), and their hideout just validated those feelings.

The hulk was so tremendously huge that the snow barely covered its lower half. Catra would’ve assumed it was a spaceship if she didn’t see its legs. The massive walker was tipped on its side, two of its legs blown off by some ridiculously heavy firepower. Above its hull, an enormous two-pronged plasma cannon, one of the biggest guns Catra had ever seen, drooped lifelessly over the side. Its grey hull was scored by thousands of tiny marks, an entire army’s worth of small arms fire that barely scratched it.

Something like this was not the home of a good guy, Catra thought.

The short one, Starla, smacked a button on the side of the walker and a ramp unfolded from the hull. Inside, even Catra’s low-light vision couldn’t see a thing.

Bow stepped inside without hesitation, the gullible idiot. Catra stopped in her tracks.

“Catra, come on,” Adora said, gently poking the back of her shoulder.

“Nope, I’m not following a bunch of strangers into their evil lair,” Catra said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

“They’re not strangers,” Adora said, almost hurt. “They’re our friends. I fought with them, and they’re totally trustworthy.”

“Then why haven’t you said anything about them, huh? Why have I not heard of these guys?”

“I have talked about them. Kind of a lot.”

Catra slumped. She knew she zoned out when the rest of the gang talked about their adventures before she joined up, but she didn’t think it was this bad.

“I trust them,” Adora repeated, taking Catra’s hand. “Let’s go inside.”

Hand in hand, they walked up the ramp into the darkness. She-Ra had to duck under the ceiling. Her magical aura lit the walls, but it was still too dark for Catra’s comfort. Her eyes were adjusted to the dull white of the snow outside, not these ominous corridors. She held Adora’s hand tighter, letting the warmth relax her.

She wasn’t blind for long, however. With a buzz of fluorescence, Starla lit a glowing lamp that flooded the room in orange light, and Catra’s eyes were met with a strangely homey sight. This place, which she assumed used to be some kind of troop compartment, had been turned into a bedroom. Three sleeping bags lay side by side, a dresser made of stacked supply crates next to them. A makeshift kitchen with a simple gas stove was located near the door. The bare metal benches built into the walls had been covered with tattered blankets. And, most remarkably to Catra, a white-and-red bird slept on a piled nest of the same blankets.

With everyone inside, the ramp closed behind them with a loud hiss.

“Hello, Glory! We’re home!” Starla announced.

Starla tapped her chest and her helmet unfolded into her suit’s neckline, shaking free long, curly, yellow hair. The bird, awakened by her call, bounced on its tiny talons and gave a musical cry. It fluttered across the room, a golden glow emitting from beneath its red wings. She giggled with childlike delight as the bird landed on top of her head.

“Do you remember our friends?” she asked the bird, which chirped cheerily. “We met some new people, too.”

“Nice bird,” Catra said lamely.

“This is Glory,” Starla said. “She’s my best friend.”

Try as she might, Catra could almost feel her heart melting.

“The bird’s your best friend now? I’m offended,” Jewelstar joked. He stored away his helmet as well, revealing a stark white beard and white hair tied back in a ponytail. His left eye was replaced by a cybernetic lens.

“It’s safe to take your helmets off, it’s plenty warm in here,” Tallstar said. She had a scar marking her dark cheek, and her hair was a mop of pink curls.

The squad began taking their helmets off one by one, Hordak’s unfolding into his armor much like the Star Siblings’, and with a flash of light, She-Ra reverted into her usual form. Adora had gotten very comfortable in the form of the warrior princess, but the ceiling was much too short for that. Even though Catra was fully used to this by now, the Star Siblings watched in no small awe.

“C’mon, sit down,” Starla offered, gesturing to the benches. “It’s not much, but it’s been our home for a while.”

Catra leaned against the wall, and Bow and Adora sat down on a thin green blanket next to her. Hordak and Entrapta simply sat cross-legged on the bare floor. Scorpia’s eyes vigilantly tracked Glory like a hug-happy predator.

“So, what have you guys been up to?” Bow asked.

“To start, we’ve been stranded here for months, and we’re starting to get sick of one another,” Tallstar said.

“Stranded?” he said with sympathy. “How did that happen?”

“Really, it starts right after we left the crystal planet,” he began. And so the Star Siblings related the story of the galactic rebellion, and Catra took extra care to pay attention.

“Just after we left,” Tallstar said, “we started seeking out allies. At first, we only found small groups of survivors, like us.”

“And also like us, most of them were defeatists,” Jewelstar said. “It took a while, but we managed to convince some to join our rebellion, and we started calling ourselves the Star Alliance.”

“The name was my idea,” Starla added.

“Before long, as our alliance grew, we started attracting attention. On occupied planets, we found sympathetic groups who had heard of us, and they kept us supplied with food and fuel. But when we got bold enough to take down a Horde battlecruiser, we got attention of a different kind.”

“Prime’s allies, an empire called Verumar, sent us a messenger,” Tallstar said.

“Wait, allies?” Scorpia asked. “I thought Prime was all, ‘blah blah purity, blah blah hive mind’ and that stuff.”

“His power wasn’t infinite, and he knew it. So he scared some planets into submission, making them work for him and put down smaller threats while he fought wars somewhere else. We assumed he was paying attention to you, so he sent Verumar to deal with us instead.”

“They were way too powerful for us. Even the one ship they sent to meet us could’ve blown the whole Star Alliance to bits.” Starla shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with the possibility. “But they wanted to be friends.”

“Apparently, their ‘Sovereign’ wasn’t happy with the Horde, so he secretly joined our alliance. That probably should’ve clued us in that he was willing to betray us, too, but we were just happy to have a powerful ally.”

Catra’s heart sank. Betrayal was something she knew all too well.

“In the end, we defeated the Horde. In orbit right up there,” Jewelstar pointed up towards the sky, “their fleet suddenly fell apart like they had lost all direction. Your work, I assume?” He nodded at Adora. She blushed a little bit.

“The next day, the Verumarans turned on us. We should’ve known it was coming. They destroyed everything, killed every last rebel they could find. We barely escaped.”

“As far as we know, we were the only survivors,” Tallstar said darkly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Scorpia said, a mournful look falling over her face as she absentmindedly scratched Glory with one claw.

“I understand this must be hard to hear,” Jewelstar said. “I didn’t mean to sound so bitter earlier, you couldn’t have known. And you did take down Prime, so we can’t be any less than thankful for that.”

“Still, we shouldn’t have waited this long,” Adora said, shaking her head sadly. “We delayed this trip for months because we thought we weren’t ready, but look at what happened while we were sitting on our butts! Everything’s falling apart and we could’ve stopped it.”

“Don’t worry,” Starla said. “If She-Ra is anything like the stories, they don’t stand a chance.”

“We couldn’t have left earlier, if that’s any consolation,” Entrapta piped up. “Mara’s refit was an extensive process and rushing it would have likely damaged key components.”

“Mara? Is that your ship’s name?” Tallstar asked.

“Well, one of them. You’ve already met Darla, she’s the smaller one. Mara is the cruiser in orbit, and she required extensive refitting to suit our purposes. Horde ships are entirely inhospitable in their standard configuration.”

“Sorry, that battlecruiser is yours?!”

Catra burst out laughing. Entrapta’s casual attitude about sensitive information was almost as funny when turned on others as it was annoying when directed toward her. As her laughter subsided, however, her ear twitched towards the door, a quiet tapping sound catching her attention.

“Does anyone else hear that?” she asked. The others shook their heads, but Hordak listened hard and worried recognition dawned on his face. He stood up, staring at the door.

“Tallstar,” he said slowly, “didn’t you say there were more survivors on this planet?”

“Yes, but they’re miles away,” she said. “They don’t even know we’re here.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

Catra inched towards the door, listening intently for any more sign of the mysterious sound.

“Catra? What’s wrong?” Adora called.

“I don’t know. Something sounded like it was coming from…”

She heard a barely-perceptible click, then a single loud beep.

“Get down!” she barely had time to cry out.

The door exploded. A searing heat scorched her fur, a force like a tank slammed into her, and her vision went black.

For the second time today, Adora found herself crying out in shock as the world seemed to slow down. Catra’s limp body was hurled across the room, crashing into the opposite wall. The air tore at her blue jacket as she raced to her girlfriend’s side.

Catra was breathing, but the air ripped at their clothes and threatened to steal the air from her lungs. The room was growing colder by the minute. Catra’s helmet was on the other side of the room. Bow stood next to it.

“Bow, throw me the helmet!” she tried to yell, but the rushing wind drowned her voice. She took a deep breath, and her fist closed around the Sword of Protection materializing in her hand.

“For the Honor of Grayskull!” she bellowed.

In an instant, the electrifying warmth of She-Ra’s power flowed through her every nerve. She was clad in shining white and gold, surrounded by a golden light that shielded her from the lashing wind. Her voice pierced through the noise like a floodlight through the fog.

“Bow! Throw me Catra’s helmet!”

Bow loosed an arrow at the smoking ruin of the door, then reached behind him and flung the helmet towards She-Ra. She caught it in mid-air and gently jammed it onto Catra’s lolling head, sending a pulse of healing energy into her body as she did it. Catra coughed violently, then opened her eyes.

“Hey, Adora,” she said weakly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Go stab whoever blew me up.”

Adora smiled. She rose to She-Ra’s full height, scraping her head against the ceiling, and turned to the scene of battle.

Her friends were pinned down, taking cover behind the sturdy bulkheads. The outside world was a blinding white, a blur of snow and sunlight revealed by the bomb. Bolts of green light poured through the twisted, smoking hole. Horde weapons. Several lasers whistled her way, and her sword transformed into an indestructible shield, ricocheting the bolts harmlessly. She advanced towards the door, stepping through whispers of smoke left scattered on the ground.

Tallstar, her right arm unfolded into a plasma cannon, squeezed off two shots in return, then took cover behind She-Ra’s back. More green bolts pinged off the Shield of Protection, the biggest and most visible target. That was good.

“Get behind me,” Adora said to her friends. As she marched purposefully ahead, the occasional blasts became a withering hail, entirely directed at her golden shield. The force of the barrage pushed against her, but her feet persevered, the strength of She-Ra shoving back against the bombardment.

The others were safe behind her. Her body entirely filled the corridor, blocking any fire from striking them.

All of a sudden, as she stepped over the ruined ramp, the white world grew clear to her vision. The cliffs and ruins, once silent and abandoned, were crawling with Horde clones.

They were tattered and worn, malnourished and wild-eyed. Many were heavily battle-scarred, missing limbs and eyes with no cybernetics to repair their wounds. Only half had weapons, but they were firing with reckless abandon, pouring every ounce of energy they could into the hideout and She-Ra’s shining shield. Adora counted about twenty, maybe more.

A bolt of red lightning caught one clone square in the chest, sending him tumbling from the cliff, and a net arrow ensnared another’s gun arm. Adora looked back to see her friends returning fire, sprinting out from behind her cover to better vantage points. Her shield flashed back into the Sword of Protection and she sprinted through the snow towards the enemy.

Just ahead, a one-armed clone roared and rushed at her, swiping towards her stomach with his claws. She blocked the first slash with the sword, in the same motion slamming an elbow into the clone’s face. He stumbled back, clutching a black eye. Adora smashed the flat of her blade into his temple, dropping him into the snow.

A laser caught the back of her shoulder, slightly staggering her, but her magical aura dispersed its energy. She whirled around and deflected a second shot, sending a sweep of golden energy back towards the assailant. He ducked out of view and it smashed against the sheet of metal he was using as cover.

“Help!” She heard Starla cry out and glanced in her direction. She was pinned against the hull of the massive bug-like walker by a one-eyed clone drawing back his claws. Glory swooped in and struck the back of his head, causing him to bat at the attacking bird. In that split second of distraction, Hordak slammed into the clone like a speeding tank, his exosuit’s enhanced strength sending his enemy flying several yards into the snow.

Adora caught a glimpse of a clone from the corner of her eye, and a second in the other direction. She ducked beneath the first’s wild swipe and punched him in the stomach, twirling her sword behind her to block the second’s attack.

A heavy weight fell onto her back, claws ripping into her left shoulder. She grunted in pain and groped blindly for the attacker with her free hand, but a second clone grabbed her arm and pulled hard. The first, recovering quickly, joined in the dogpile on the other side, restraining her sword arm.

She was strong, but three genetically-enhanced super-soldiers fighting with mad desperation were stronger.

Fangs sank into her bicep. She yelped and twisted, trying to throw her opponents off. Their sharp talons dug in hard.

Suddenly, in the distance, Scorpia shouted a battle cry that echoed over the clones’ animalistic roars:

“GO GET ‘EM, WILDCAT!”

The seething embodiment of righteous fury soared through the air and crashed claws-first into the clone atop Adora’s back. He fell back into the snow and squared off with an extremely angry Catra.

“Get off my She-Ra!”

Adora wasted not a second. She flexed her right arm, sending her captor off-balance and wrenching her sword free. Catra’s target slashed at her with wild abandon, and she danced past his claws and delivered several quick punches to his abdomen. Adora reached over and grabbed the final clone by the throat, flinging him far into the insectoid walker’s hull. Catra swung off her clone’s neck, knocking out the other clone with a swift roundhouse kick. She leveraged her momentum to pull the first to his knees, where Adora backhanded him unconscious.

One final blast rang out from Tallstar’s cannon, and then the field fell silent.

Adora turned and hugged Catra, then immediately regretted it. The cuts that covered her arms burned. She settled for a kiss on top of her adorable helmet.

“Is anyone hurt?” Jewelstar asked. Thankfully, everyone had made it out with only bruises. Adora noticed that Bow had a small scratch in his spacesuit, but he would be fine, and Entrapta could easily stitch up.

“Adora, you’re a mess!” Starla said.

She glanced down at her bare arms, covered in stinging claw marks and more than one bite wound.

“Not a problem,” Adora said. “Watch this.”

 The golden light that perpetually surrounded her glowed brighter. It crept into her wounds, banishing the pain and sending a pleasant tingle down her spine. Then, the skin stitched itself closed, and She-Ra was good as new.

“Anyone else need healing?” she asked. “I’ve got plenty to spare.”

She glanced around appraisingly but quickly noticed that two of their number were missing. Hordak and Entrapta were nowhere to be seen.

“Entrapta?” Bow called, quickly catching on. “Hordak?”

“Over here!” came Entrapta’s voice, hidden somewhere in the ruins. The others made their way through the maze until they came across a curious sight.

Sprawled in a pile of tangled wires was a barely-conscious clone, wrapped in the weathered remains of a Horde uniform. His green eyes were half-open, gazing sightlessly at the turquoise sky. Hordak knelt beside him, one hand placed gently on his trembling arm, murmuring something that Adora couldn’t quite make out. The clone was muttering too, incoherent ramblings with no words or sense. Entrapta stood above both of them, trackerpad in hand, measuring the injured clone’s vitals.

“What are you two doing?” Catra asked, no small amount of derision creeping into her voice.

“I’m worried,” Hordak simply said.

“These clones aren’t like you,” Jewelstar said. “They’ve gone insane from separation. They’re more animals than soldiers now.”

“Yes,” Hordak said absentmindedly. “He’s gone.”

“What are you worried about?” Tallstar asked, approaching the delirious clone.

Entrapta turned to Tallstar, concern furrowing her brow.

“This clone hasn’t been driven insane by the isolation. You’ve been trapped here for just as long, and he’s had twenty fellow survivors to keep him company. Psychologically speaking, Horde clones should have more than enough mental fortitude to resist the effects of prolonged isolation, even totally alone. This is something worse.”

“Degradation,” Hordak said. “His mind can’t handle being separated from the Horde.”

“But there are hundreds of clones on Etheria, and we haven’t seen anything like this,” Adora said.

“It’s unclear,” Entrapta said. “We’ll have to do further research.”

Adora approached the twitching clone, kneeling in front of his form. She peered at his haggard face, pockmarked with scars and weathering. His eyes were a sickly, pale yellowish-green, not like the verdant light of Prime’s hive consciousness. As she inspected him, his eyelids rose, he looked She-Ra directly in her own eyes, and he fell completely still.

Suddenly, his hand flashed out and grabbed Adora’s arm in a steel grip. His eyes locked with hers and she found herself unable, or unwilling, to look away. In a voice as cold and sharp as steel, he spoke with a smooth certainty that made her freeze in place.

“Your day of disaster draws near, Eternian. In due time, your foot will slip from beneath you, and you will burn on the pyres of your ancestors.”

Adora thought, for a brief moment, she saw a pupil of white in the clone’s eyes. Then, he shuddered and gasped, and what little spark of light still lived beneath his eyes faded into nothing. As the clone breathed his last, she could barely do anything but stare.

Hordak paced across the polished floor of Darla’s bridge. The ship roared through Craggar’s upper atmosphere, leaving the wasteland behind, and her crew had gained three new members.

Or was it four? He wasn’t clear on the bird’s level of sapience yet.

“I never thought I’d miss space,” Starla sighed, staring out of the window at the beautiful miasma of colors outside.

“Never?” Entrapta said. “I could never not miss space! Even when I’m in space, I still miss being in space, and I regret that I can’t be more in space!”

Hordak smiled. His partner’s eccentricities were never less than charming. He hoped to one day experience such delight as she seems to constantly enjoy. But today, he thought as the smile ran away from his face, darkness had settled over his mind.

On Craggar, every clone told the same story. Every last one was overtaken by rabid madness; hungry, desperate, and vanished of all consciousness that they might have once possessed. Becoming disconnected from the hive mind had broken them. And in every case, an ominous moment of lucidity preceded their sudden passing.

Some cried out in sorrow, despairing for the crimes they had committed and the dignity they had lost. One cursed Horde Prime with his dying words, proclaiming, “You led me astray. You left me to die. I gave myself to you without choice. My soul was never mine.”

Others were quieter, simply slipping into serenity before their final breath. Hordak could only watch from a distance as one clone stood tall, perfectly poised as if he was still guarding some sanctum on the Velvet Glove, and strode out to the center of the clearing beneath the great corpse of the insectoid walker. He stared into the sky, perhaps coming to peace with the universe, then wordlessly collapsed.

But many, far too many, issued warnings. They saw the face of She-Ra and were filled with venom, spitting hate at her efforts and cursing her name for destroying Prime. But it was the first message that troubled Hordak the most.

Direct, matter-of-fact, chilling to the bone. Unlike the others, this one had not been a threat. It had been a statement of fact. Hordak didn’t believe in prophecies, but this clone’s last words felt far more like a warning than a desperate attempt at the last laugh.

And the word he had called her, Eternian. No clone had ever used that word, much less to refer to She-Ra. Hordak was well aware, as was every other friend of Adora, that she was a First One from far beyond the planet. He also knew that First One was simply the Etherian name for their ancient colonizers, who were truly known by that word that hadn’t been heard in centuries. Points began to connect in his mind. She-Ra was Eternian. Adora must be the last, but she had to come from somewhere. Did that clone know something? Had Adora ever considered the possibility?

Did Horde Prime know? He shivered at the thought.

“Meet Mara, your new home,” Bow said from his usual position in the pilot’s chair, breaking through Hordak’s reverie. The Star Siblings stared out the window at the dagger-shaped ship, twinkling with purple highlights and emblazoned with the crest of She-Ra.

“Well, it’s not as menacing as its cousins,” Tallstar remarked.

“Don’t worry, she’s harmless,” Entrapta said. “Not a weapon left on her. Probably.”

“That’s reassuring,” said Jewelstar. He was definitely not reassured.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” Starla said, “what’s the plan from here?”

“We’re going to restore magic to the universe,” Adora said proudly.

“Restore magic?” Tallstar said.

“The First Ones and the Horde stripped it away, and we’re going to bring it back, one planet at a time.”

“Woah. How are you going to do it?” Starla asked. “Can She-Ra really make a place magical?”

“Uh… we haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Oh. We will soon, right?”

“Yeah. We’re pretty good at winging it.”

Hordak shook his head. Every bridge was only to be crossed when they came to it. Just this once, he found himself missing his old villainous days. As evil as his many schemes had been, at least he made plans in the first place.

“Welcome to the Star Alliance,” he said to himself, and he couldn’t help but like the sound of it.

Thousands of light-years away…

In the silent darkness of deep space, one of the largest battleships the galaxy had ever seen hovered among a massive fleet. It appeared as if roughly hewn from a block of solid iron. Its harsh, boxy lines were an unpainted dark grey, adorned with flashes of scarlet offering ominous glimpses of its powerful weapons. This was the Snake’s Eye, the flagship of Verumar and the personal vessel of its Sovereign.

In the center of the bridge, majestically contrasted against the black and red officer’s uniforms, stood a tall figure of dark blue. A long cape concealed his features, but all who served him knew what lay beneath his hood. Still, he preferred to remain hidden, as an instrument of intimidation. By doing so, he was granted a convenient means of informing an underling that they should fear the present situation.

The Lord of Verumar heard, from behind him, the quiet shuffling of webbed feet. His Admiral had some news to report.

“Speak, Admiral,” the Lord said. His voice was high and sharp as a dagger.

“Sovereign, there is news from the planet Craggar,” Admiral Merr said, his gravelly voice near-imperceptibly cracking.

The Lord shifted his posture ever so slightly. What on Craggar was still of note? All that remained there was dust and echoes.

“Yesterday, one of our Observators reported a strangely configured Horde battlecruiser arriving in orbit. Upon further investigation, it recorded a battle between several individuals and a small clone enclave on the planet. And… the new arrivals appeared to make use of magic.”

“Magic?” The Lord could scarcely keep the astonishment from his voice. “Has this group been identified?”

“It’s likely, Sovereign. I cross-referenced the Observator’s footage with our library. One of their ships was identified as an Eternian Tau-class long-range scout. This particular vessel belongs to an anti-Horde rebel group from the planet Etheria.”

Etheria. An ancient Eternian colony. The origin of the universe’s magic, recently re-emerged from its distant hiding place. Perhaps that was a hopeful sign.

“How interesting,” the Lord said.

“It also appeared that the warrior She-Ra was among them.”

Now, this was intriguing. He knew She-Ra had returned, Horde records were extensive enough on that point, but she had not been heard of since the defeat of Horde Prime. He assumed she had perished. If she was now traveling the galaxy, the situation could present a unique possibility. A chance to reclaim the Lord’s birthright.

“Have High General Evelyn keep an eye on these new arrivals,” he said.

“Yes, Sovereign. I will transmit your order immediately,” the Admiral bowed.

The Lord looked out upon the stars outside the window, and his reflection looked back at him. The legacy of the known universe was in his hands, the ancestors of his birthright watching his next decision. As the metaphorical dead turned their eyes on his thoughts, it was fitting that his physical image would stare back with red eyes in a bare white skull.

“One more thing, Admiral,” he said, turning ever so slightly behind him to freeze Admiral Merr in his tracks. “She-Ra, if she truly accompanies these voyagers, is a child of Eternia. She may serve as a path to our people. Watch her most closely of all.”

“As you command, Lord Skeletor.”

The Sovereign of Verumar turned back to the window as the Admiral bowed out of the bridge. It appeared that Skeletor had a new enemy, and a new opportunity.

Chapter Text

The lively sounds of the jungles of Tero fluttered around She-Ra as she concentrated. The Sword of Protection was laid across her lap, as inert and stubborn as the dirt under her bottom.

As it turned out, instilling magic into an entire planet was not as simple as meditation. But at this moment, Adora couldn’t even manage to grant life to a single blade of grass. She focused on the squawking of distant birds, the rustling of the wind in the leaves, the grit of the earth beneath her, the humid air on her skin. All irritatingly non-magical.

At last, she sighed and opened her eyes. Glimmer, Perfuma, Scorpia, Catra, Hordak, and Tallstar were sitting in a half-circle around her on the hard-packed earth.

“Nothing?” Adora asked.

“No, sorry,” Glimmer said.

She sighed again, deeper.

“I don’t understand.” Perfuma stood and paced up and down the grass. “Maybe you need to meditate longer! Maybe you haven’t reached a state of connection with nature. Try humming! Or reciting poetry? I’ll make you some relaxing herbal tea!”

“I don’t think that’s the problem, Perfuma. I just… don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Try yelling,” Tallstar said.

Every one of them stared at her.

“What? I’ve only seen you do magic twice and you were yelling both times. I just assumed it works better that way.”

“That’s fair,” Scorpia remarked. “She yells a lot.”

“She-Ra is closely connected to your emotions,” Glimmer said. “Maybe you need to be under pressure, or excited somehow.”

“That I can do,” Catra grinned wickedly. She pounced towards Adora, grabbed the sides of her face, and kissed her full on the mouth.

“Great! Focus on that,” Glimmer said.

Hot-faced and heart pounding, Adora closed her eyes again and reached out towards the planet. She poured every ounce of emotion into Catra’s presence, focusing on the pressure of her hands on her cheeks, their hearts beating as one.

Still, nothing happened.

“Eh, it was worth a shot,” Catra shrugged.

“Hordak, any ideas?” Tallstar asked.

“The readings don’t make sense,” he muttered.

“How?”

“There’s not a trace of magical energy,” Hordak explained, “but the atmosphere is swarming with entraptons.”

“Sorry,” Catra did a double-take, “swarming with what?”

“The elementary particle that corresponds to magic.”

“You picked the name, didn’t you.”

Hordak’s face flushed as red as his eyes.

“Ignore that.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Perfuma said.

“We will discuss this no further.”

“Who woulda thought big grumpy Hordak had a soft spot!” Scorpia beamed, looping her arm around his broad shoulders. His face, if possible, got even redder.

Adora stood up, stretching her legs.

“Well, this isn’t working,” she said. “And if Hordak thinks we should try somewhere else…”

“Yes, somewhere else. Immediately.”

Glimmer’s staff materialized in a shower of sparkles in her right hand, grasping Adora’s in the other. The party linked their arms, Catra somewhat reluctantly. The fragment of the Moonstone embedded in the staff glowed purple, and the seven of them disappeared.

She-Ra lifted the Sword of Protection above her head, concentrating on the magic flowing from the runestone in its hilt. She imagined that magic flowing from it into the planet’s core, spreading throughout all the greenery and the soil and the water.

She thrust it deep into the muddy ground. It sank into the earth with an anti-climactic splat. She groaned.

She pulled it out and jammed it back into the soil. Then again, and again. She forced it into the ground up to its hilt. It came out covered in muck, looking less like the Sword of Protection and more like the Sword of Useless Dirt.

“Maybe somewhere else?” Catra said.

“ For the honor of Grayskull! ” She-Ra cried, leveling the sword at the noonday sun. Power flooded through her body, blinding light shining from the blade. She willed this power into the planet, into the rocks around her. It retreated from her muscles and her clothes shifted back into her usual attire, and for a moment she thought the riverbank was glowing as well.

And then there she was, standing on the lifeless rocks, average height and looking thoroughly stupid.

“That didn’t work,” Scorpia said.

“Thanks for telling me,” Adora grumbled.

Glimmer stabbed the end of her staff into the ground.

“Everyone, we need your runeshards,” she declared.

Scorpia removed a silver armband and Perfuma a golden flower necklace. In the center of each, a fragment of their runestone sat, silently humming with magic even this far from Etheria.

They joined Glimmer in a circle and held out their jewelry. She-Ra laid the Sword of Protection gently across the top of their hands. The power of each princess flowed through her own runestone, and she would try to unite them.

She thought of the magic in each runeshard, still glowing strong. Each granted power over everything in its domain, unlimited potential. Even this far, they commanded nature to their wielders’ will. Each Princess did so now, ordering the wilds to bend to the power of magic.

Red static crackled around them, radiating from the Black Garnet, leaping across the metal in the staff, necklace, and sword. Light sparkled from the Moonstone, illuminating them all in a soft pink glow. The grass under their feet began to dance to the power of the Heart-Blossom, their blades lengthening and splitting into colorful blossoms. Magic flowed across the blade, sparking up and down its surface.

And just like that, it disappeared as quickly as it began. The Princesses slumped.

“This location is no good either,” Hordak remarked.

“For goodness’ sake, many more locations until we find the right one?” Perfuma asked.

“We may end up searching the entire planet.”

Perfuma groaned, and the grass at her feet drooped with her.

“Are you serious?” Adora asked.

“Do you have a better idea?” Tallstar replied.

Adora rolled her eyes and, reluctantly, pointed her sword at the clouds. She thought back to all the day’s frustrations, all the useless attempts at magic, all the failures she’d ever experienced. All her powerlessness and embarrassment. All the disappointments to herself and her friends. Remembering her time without the sword, how worthless she felt. Her time without Catra, how powerless she was to save her from herself. How she let those clones die on Craggar. How she can’t even remember the stupid dreams that had her thrashing awake every morning. Every mistake and shortfall, every preventable loss, every single negative moment of the last three years.

She poured every ounce of fury she could summon into her lungs, and she let loose with a massive raging bellow that shook the trees.

She screamed until her throat was hoarse and her chest ached for the air. She sank to her knees and panted for breath.

“Did… did it work?”

“No, but it sounded really cathartic,” Glimmer said. She sounded… worried?

“Just teleport us back to the ship,” Adora growled.

The expedition team had returned some three hours ago. To anyone else, their report would have been disappointing, but Entrapta refused to be upset by a lack of results. After all, experimentation was a repeated process that rarely yielded solutions on the first round.

Hordak didn’t take it quite as well, however.

She found him in their laboratory, a cavernous ammunition bay that had been filled with instruments and thoroughly sterilized. His empty suit was suspended in an armory rig, its chestplate open exposing wires and servos. Hordak himself, wearing only his black undersuit, hovered over its pectoral actuator with his back to the door.

“Is your armor working alright?” Entrapta asked.

“I noticed some flexion lag in my left shoulder,” he said without turning. “Just leftover damage from Craggar.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“No, I think I’m fine.”

He reached too far for a hexdriver and winced in pain. Entrapta quickly snatched it up and handed it to him.

“Well, I could use some company.” He gestured for her to sit. She did so on the empty corner of the desk.

Several drawings were scattered across the table. Blueprints for various ideas, she assumed. Some of them involved the exosuit, others were independent designs. Some tech she recognized, some she did not.

“Do you think this looks right?” Hordak asked, gesturing with his pliers to the actuator. Entrapta scooched over to take a glance. The metal was slightly discolored from plasma scorching, but otherwise the piece was in good condition. However, she noticed something strange.

“I don’t believe the wiring is meant to cross there,” she pointed.

“Ah, that’s what I missed. Thank you.”

He carefully maneuvered the wires apart.

“That’s better,” Entrapta nodded.

Hordak picked up the actuator, hobbling over to the armory rig. The part fit snugly and he began to reattach its wires carefully. He was leaning heavily on his crutch.

“You seem tired. Are you doing alright?” Entrapta asked hesitantly.

Hordak paused and sighed.

“I am tired.”

“Why?” she asked. “We’re hardly under stress.”

“Perhaps you aren’t, but… I never understood magic,” he said.

“Magic isn’t that hard.”

“Maybe on Etheria. Where we could temper it with technology. But out here, where magic is meant to be natural, it’s very different.”

“It can’t be so different. It’s all science anyway.”

“It’s some science if it makes no rational sense.”

“Which is why we’re empiricists, right? The world is irrational, so we just observe.”

Hordak paused his work and turned to her.

“But today we aren’t trying to observe. We’re trying to initiate. On Etheria we could afford to build on First Ones research, use what they had left behind, call on sorcerers with more innate knowledge. But out here we have no resources, no point of reference. We have to rely on She-Ra, and not even she knows what she’s doing.”

Entrapta placed a hand on Hordak’s shoulder.

“That’s what scientists do. We discover. We have such an opportunity out here, the chance to create new knowledge. And it’s hard, it’s long, but it’s worth it.”

“Maybe. But I can barely even define what we already know, much less learn anything new about it. I can’t detect an elementary particle that I don’t even know exists.”

“Wait, you’ve been quantifying magic?”

“Oh, yes, I’ve been trying.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Entrapta leaped up. “Where’s the instrument? I want to see what you’ve done!”

“Uh, I don’t know if that’s possible. It’s not exactly finished…”

“Nonsense! Science is never finished.”

“Well, uh… it’s over there,” he pointed to a desk next to Emily’s charging station where their robotic companion sat deactivated.

Entrapta bounded across the room and swept up the device. It appeared reverse-engineered from a trackerpad, with significant mass added to its back and two angled antennae jutting out from the top. She turned it on and examined the screen.

“I call it the thaumaturgical capacity evaluator. TCE, if you want,” Hordak said.

She barely heard him. Her attention was fixated on a single word. A word that sent a warm, fuzzy, fluttery feeling cascading through her chest.

“Hordak,” she smiled.

His shoulders shrank and he noticeably blushed.

“Did you name an elementary particle after me?”

“Um… yes.”

She set the TCE back down on the table. For whatever reason, her hands were slightly trembling. She clicked Emily’s power switch and her eye flickered on. The robot excitedly warbled and rubbed against her.

“She could use some exercise,” Hordak said awkwardly.

“Yes,” Entrapta mumbled. “I’m, um… gonna take Emily for a walk. Be back in… time.”

Without waiting for confirmation, Emily bounded out the door. Entrapta hurriedly followed, face as pink as her hair.

Bow and Seahawk sat around a table in the lounge, hunched over a game of Warfleet, while Glimmer and the Star Siblings watched on.

“E9,” Seahawk said.

“Miss,” Bow said. “D2.”

“Hit, dangit.”

“Woo! Let’s go Bow!” Glimmer shouted.

“You’re really bad at this,” Jewelstar remarked to Seahawk.

“No, I’m lulling him into a false sense of security. B10.”

“I’d think a sailor would be better at this,” Bow said playfully. “Miss.”

“Hey, I am good at this. I’m just having an off day, that’s all.”

“I think you can do it!” said Starla.

“I don’t necessarily need your encouragement, but please continue supplying it.”

“E2,” Bow said.

Seahawk’s sigh said a thousand words, and just one. Glimmer cheered.

“Another round, then?” he said.

“No, I’ll let someone else play,” Bow said. “Anyone want to?”

“I’ll try,” Tallstar said.

“I warn you, I am a seasoned Warfleet veteran,” Seahawk said.

“And I’ve won real space battles. You’re nothing, hotshot.”

Bow plopped onto the couch, taking Tallstar’s spot. Glimmer rested her head on his shoulder.

“Were you getting tired?” she asked.

“Nah, it just gets boring winning all the time,” he said.

Glimmer laughed. Their fingers intertwined and they watched Seahawk’s braggadocious attempts to downplay his imminent defeat. After a minute and his first loss, Bow looked around to the other two Star Siblings. Jewelstar was leaned back into the cushions, enjoying the game, but he caught Starla casting a furtive glance at him and Glimmer.

“Something on your mind?” he asked her.

“Oh, uh, just wondering what’s going on here,” she gestured to the couple.

“What’s to see?” Glimmer asked. “I know his hair’s a bit longer, but have we really changed that much?”

“Well, it looks like you’ve… I guess upgraded your friendship.”

“Yeah,” Bow said. “It’s been a while.”

“Cool.”

Seahawk whooped as he managed to sink Tallstar’s cruiser. A small victory, she assured them.

“I mean,” Starla continued suddenly, “I’d like to know what happened. What you’ve been up to. Something that doesn’t have to do with the Horde, preferably.”

“Oh, a lot of stuff,” Glimmer said. “We’ve spent most of our time repairing our kingdoms on Etheria.”

“Yeah, you’re a queen, right?”

“Mm-hmm. Proud monarch of Bright Moon. Well, not at the moment, my dad is taking over as King for a bit while I’m up here.”

“How does that work? I thought you could only be Queen when your parents are, y’know…”

“It’s a very long story,” Bow assured.

Starla nodded. Glory fluttered over from her perch on the opposite side of the room, landing on her outstretched hand. She brought her close and stroked her feathers.

“How did you meet her?” Glimmer asked.

“She was a childhood pet. Back on our home planet, my mother adopted her. She came with us when we escaped.”

“I’m glad you held onto something from home,” Bow said.

“Yeah,” she sniffed.

Glimmer untangled herself from Bow and wrapped Starla in a hug.

“Sorry for always being so sniffly,” Starla muttered.

“No, it’s okay. It’s better.”

Glory cooed and fluttered her wings, casting the three of them in a gentle glow. Glimmer conjured a shower of sparkles from her own hands, answering light with light.

“Is she magic?” Bow asked.

“Nothing is magic out here,” Starla said. “She’s just… like that.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” he mused. “Maybe the universe is more magical than we give it credit for.”

They were wrenched out of the moment by a sudden joyous shout.

“I WON! TAKE THAT! I AM THE GREATEST SAILOR TO EVER LIVE!”

“Best out of three,” Tallstar grumbled.

“I can’t believe you!” Jewelstar laughed. The rest of them joined in as the victorious Seahawk took a lap around the lounge, loudly singing a shanty about his glorious naval skill.

Two hours later, most of the crew were back on Mara’s bridge. Adora looked out at the planet that had caused her so much frustration earlier in the day. It was so green, so alive, but not in a way she had ever felt. It was foreign and silent, full of bugs and trees and no magic at all.

Catra rested her head on her shoulder. They were seated on beanbags in the middle of the floor, right next to the pilot’s chair, which was currently occupied by Seahawk. There was no sound except for the smooth hum of the engines and the quiet beeping that the consoles constantly emitted for whatever reason. Still, Adora couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the moment, occupied as her mind was on the day’s earlier events.

“Uh, Entrapta?” Bow called. “I see something on the scanners.”

Bow sat on another beanbag chair at the sensor console, examining a small dot that beeped across his radar. Entrapta vaulted over his head and peered closely at the screen.

“Well, that’s odd,” she said. “Its movement patterns look like another ship.”

“But there aren’t any other people out here, right?” Adora asked.

“There aren’t any settlements within several dozen light-years,” Hordak said, connected to his command chair in the center of the bridge. “But it could be an explorer.”

“New friends!” Scorpia exclaimed.

“Perhaps. Or enemies.”

Adora got up from her seat on the floor and looked at the sensor screen. The little dot was moving diagonally, slightly curving as if it were intentionally turning. It was slowly coming closer, but it looked like its trajectory would end on the planet’s surface.

“Initiate a deep scan,” ordered Entrapta.

“We might not need that much,” Tallstar said. “There’s only one power with any presence out here.”

“Verumar,” Jewelstar said darkly.

“We shouldn’t make assumptions,” Bow said. “I’ll do the scan, and if it turns out to be Verumarans, we can leave.”

Suddenly, Adora saw half a dozen smaller dots breaking off from the big ship. They were headed straight for Mara.

“Guys, I think we’re about to have company,” she said.

A tremor pulsed through the ship, rocking everyone on the bridge. Adora caught Bow before he fell over.

“Multiple plasma impacts,” Hordak said, the computer transmitting combat reports directly to his mind. “That rules out friends.”

Adora and the Star Siblings rushed to the window at the front of the bridge, peering out into space. Flashes of light danced across Mara’s shields, sending brief vibrations through the hull. Several miles away and closing fast was a formation of half a dozen space fighters.

“It is Verumar!” Tallstar said. “They’ve found us!”

One fighter loosed a huge ball of purple energy that blazed directly towards the bridge.

“Torpedo incoming,” Hordak warned, surprisingly calm. “Captain, take us into the atmosphere.”

“Already on it,” Seahawk said. The ship lurched forward as her engines flared, sending her roaring straight down towards the planet below. Adora watched the torpedo streak past, barely nicking their shields. She breathed a sigh of relief.

The space outside the window faded from the black vacuum to the orange sky of late evening, but the fighters refused to let go of their tail.

“Our shields are holding,” Entrapta called from the operations console at the back of the bridge, “but we need to get rid of those things.”

Catra turned to Adora and smiled intently. They were instantly on the same wavelength - recalling their escape from Horde Prime’s fleet six months ago.

“Brace yourselves, people,” Catra said. “You’re about to see what She-Ra can really do.”

The Sword of Protection flashed into existence in Adora’s hand and she transformed in an instant. She wasted no time in sprinting out the door, headed straight for the hangar.

“Swift Wind,” she said, “I could use a ride.”

Her faithful steed was already waiting for her. The hangar doors ground open, pink clouds and the occasional red laser whipping by outside. She-Ra leaped onto Swift Wind’s back and they took off into the sky.

“Oh, it is so good to be back!” he shouted.

The fighters were arrayed before her in a triangular formation, pouring fire into Mara’s sparkling aft shields. Each craft was sleek and angular, resembling a sharp black boomerang. One spotted her and Swift Wind and peeled off from the rest, making straight for her and spitting red blasts.

Swiftie kicked up into a barrel roll around the first barrage and another burst bounced off She-Ra’s sword. They were upon the fighter in a second. Swift Wind ducked under its right wing as the Sword of Protection cleanly severed it, sending the craft spiraling away into the dusk without control. Adora glanced back and saw a white parachute separate from the wreck, the silhouette of a pilot dangling beneath it. These weren’t drones like the Horde had used, they were manned. That might be a problem.

The remaining five seemed to take notice and two broke off their chase, turning back to avenge their crashed squadmate.

“Hey, you wanna do something cool?” Swift Wind asked.

“Always,” Adora smiled.

“You know how we’re above them?”

“Already on it.”

She-Ra grabbed on tightly as Swift Wind tucked in his wings. They dropped like a stone, forcing the two fighters to bank away as they fell past. The wind tore at Adora’s hair, and she braced herself.

“Have fun,” Swiftie quipped.

She kicked off of Swift Wind’s back, free-falling. She stretched out her sword and, like a great spear from the heavens, tore straight through the fighter’s fuselage.

Not wasting a moment, the sword transformed into a golden lasso. She lashed out the rope and caught the second fighter’s tailfin, yanking herself towards it until her boots hit metal. The cockpit canopy was easily ripped from the hull. She sent the pilot flying until they were just a parachute against the darkening air.

The third fighter slowed rapidly, dropping behind her. She braced herself for the impact of plasma, but Swift Wind emerged from nowhere and slammed into its wing. The craft rolled unsteadily and Adora loosed a blast of golden light from her sword, slicing it neatly in two. Swift Wind quickly retrieved her and they turned to face the remaining two.

The air filled with fire. Adora’s sword became a shining blur, deflecting blast after blast. Swift Wind dodged like a hummingbird, changing direction so fast she could barely hold on.

One bolt made it through. It stung her chest, but that moment’s faltering was all it took. Two more blasts struck her from Swiftie’s back. He tried to dive for her, but the rain of energy forced him to evade. He could do nothing but shout as she fell helplessly through the sky.

A faint twinkling sounded behind her, and a soft hand struck her back.

“Get back up there!” Glimmer said. Adora smiled ear to ear.

The sky swirled into pink sparkles and the two rematerialized just above the fighters, now occupied with pursuing Swift Wind. Again, Adora plummeted towards her opponents. She struck a perfect three-point landing on the one nearest. She reached back and grabbed its aileron, yanking hard on the flap. The fighter whirled around uncontrollably, peppering its wingman with fire. It fell into the clouds, smoke spewing from its engine.

Adora forced her craft’s canopy open. The pilot looked back astonished. She waved at him cheerily, then grabbed the back of his jumpsuit and flung him out of the cockpit.

Glimmer teleported behind her again, grabbing her around the waist and returning them both to the hangar. The floor lurched below their feet as Mara decelerated, the battle finished for the moment.

Catra, Bow, and the Star Siblings raced into the room.

“That was AMAZING!” Starla shouted.

“Heck yeah it was!” Catra said.

Adora smiled. Humility aside, it felt good to be admired. She returned to her usual form and kissed Catra on the cheek.

“That’ll teach them to mess with us,” Tallstar said.

“Yeah, that wasn’t all of them,” Glimmer said nervously.

As Mara descended below the clouds, the terrain came into view, and a disconcerting sight met their eyes. A huge ship, dwarfing the trees below, was settling down in a valley just a few miles away. A massive door unfolded beneath it, revealing squads upon squads of Verumaran troops marching down its ramp into the jungle.

“There must be a thousand soldiers on that thing,” Bow muttered.

Adora narrowed her eyes.

“Bow, Glimmer, siblings,” she said, “get back up to the bridge and tell Seahawk to take the ship away from here. We can’t let them catch us off-guard again.”

Glimmer nodded and grabbed the others, disappearing in a shower of sparkles.

“What are we doing?” Swift Wind asked, tapping his feet and ready to go.

“We’re going to do some recon.”

To be continued in part two…

Chapter Text

Continued from part one…

Leaping out of the hangar, Catra, She-Ra, and Swift Wind soared over the misty jungles miles below. Miles and miles below. Which would be a very, very long fall. It occurred to Catra that the only thing keeping her up was her own strength, and the mercy of this insufferable horse whose entire body lurched up and down with every wing beat, setting her stomach bouncing around inside her. She tightened her grip around Adora’s waist.

“Man, it’s good to be back up here with you,” Swift Wind mused. “You, me, and your girlfriend who until fairly recently was our sworn enemy.”

“Shut up,” Catra said, her voice muffled by Adora’s back.

“Good to be back,” he repeated.

They neared the landed transport. It was a massive grey brick, all unpainted panels and powerful thrusters. Two massive gun turrets on its sides slowly oscillated, tracing the horizon. It had flattened a huge swathe of the forest beneath its steel belly. Catra had to marvel at just how huge it was. Even at about half the size of Mara, it was an uncomfortably enormous vessel. Swift Wind flew lower as they slowly approached, making her slightly less uneasy.

“People on the hill!” Swiftie stage-whispered.

Two dark figures stood atop a balding hill, scanning the horizon. Adora guided them down into the canopy, taking cover among the leaves. Swift Wind mildly protested about the tight quarters, but he obligingly dropped beneath the trees.

They made their way on foot towards the soldiers until they reached the treeline surrounding them. There they could see the pair clearly.

The two individuals were clad in faceless black suits of armor, recalling a sleeker mirror of the old Etherian Horde. Each one carried a large blaster. Catra snuck closer to listen in on their conversation.

“It’s too humid for these suits,” said the shorter soldier.

“You want them to issue us tank tops?” asked the taller one.

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind,” the short one said. “They make us train all day to get buff and then we can’t even show off our muscles.”

“You idiot, we’re supposed to be strong so we can be better soldiers, not so we can look good.”

“But think of the intimidation factor! If my enemies were flashing their biceps, I’d be scared senseless.”

“You’d be too distracted to fight, you mean.”

“I guess, but I’d rather my last sight be someone hot, you know?”

“Whatever.”

“Like a strong lady. One who’s taller than me, and stronger and smarter, a soldier just like me, maybe carrying a big deadly weapon, may or may not be standing in my general vicinity.”

“Hard pass.”

“Eh, it was worth a shot.”

Catra rolled her eyes. She overheard conversations like this all the time back in the Horde. Looks like soldiers being stupid and thirsty was a galactic constant.

She-Ra erupted from the treeline, the soldiers falling back in surprise. The shorter man yelped and fired a single shot before her fist slammed into his solar plexus, sending him flying into the canopy.

“Hey, you got your wish!” the tall soldier shouted. Immediately, she was backhanded in the face and knocked out cold.

Swift Wind emerged from the trees, shaking branches from his wings and grumbling about tight spaces. The three of them looked down at the unconscious soldiers.

“These guys weren’t so bad,” Catra said.

“Yeah, there’s only, like, a million more of them. Easy pickings,” Swift Wind snarked.

Catra’s ears twitched. There was movement in the distance.

“Hide,” she ordered. They retreated back into the trees.

The rustling grew louder, but it wasn’t boots tromping through the undergrowth. It was a creaking, clanking, chattering rumble, heavy and loud. Heavy enough to be a tank. But it sounded like no tank she had ever heard. This sound was powerfully mechanical, not the steady hum of anti-gravity.

The trunks shook violently, an engine growling behind them. She caught flashes of scuffed white paint and grey metal, and a whole lot of moving parts.

“We need to go,” she whispered to Adora, who nodded silently.

At once, three trees shattered and fell to the ground as a monstrous machine crawled over them. Its prow was shaped like a massive predator’s skull, all snarling fangs and protruding horns, built for impact. Its flanks were adorned with churning plates of metal, a conveyor belt of black steel blades spiraling around a dozen wheels. These wickedly spiked tracks, clattering and screeching, pulled the lumbering beast across the ground, chewing the wood beneath them to mulch. Catra had seen just about enough.

Adora grabbed her hand and pulled her hurriedly onto Swift Wind’s back. She heard the beastly tank growl to a stop behind her, creaking hatches and shouting voices telling her they had discovered the knocked-out scouts.

This was not going to be easy.

The sun had fallen and heavy clouds had settled over the stars. Mara hovered over a tree-specked mountain range, far from the Verumaran army. It would take them hours to traverse the jungles. That bought them some time.

The recently-dubbed “war room” had been one of many bot storage chambers, once filled with ports for recharging and maintaining the Horde’s mechanical infantry. With those removed and a holo-table installed, it became a sizable conference area. The entire crew was now convened there to discuss their options.

A map of the nearby area hovered above the holo-table. A green dot represented Mara. Several red lines were drawn, indicating the easiest routes for Verumaran forces to take. Nearly everyone was clustered closely around the map, discussing among themselves. Adora paced nervously back and forth.

“To make it clear,” Jewelstar was explaining, “running is not an option. They’ll shoot us down, and even if they don’t, we’ll be followed.”

“Why are they even here?” Seahawk asked.

“Seems pretty obvious, doesn’t it?” Catra said, one hand on Melog’s head beside her. “They’re here for us. They practically described She-Ra by name.”

“I don’t think he was talking about me,” Adora said.

“Still, why else would they have come here, of all places? There’s nothing on this planet.”

“Well, why did we come here?” Bow reminded.

“Magic,” Adora said.

“The Verumarans have never had any interest in magic before,” Tallstar said, “but then again, they didn’t know about you.”

“Do they know about us? We haven’t exactly made much of a splash,” Glimmer said.

Surprise shot across Tallstar’s face and she slapped her palm into her forehead.

“Oh, stupid, why didn’t I think about that! Observators!”

“Surveillance drones,” Jewelstar explained.

“Then they could have just… seen us?” Seahawk said.

“Exactly.”

“That’s bad news,” Scorpia shook her head.

“So if they’re looking specifically for us…” Bow began.

“We need to get them off our tail,” Adora said. “Any ideas for how?”

Entrapta and Hordak were crouched over the map, deep in thought. The rest muttered among themselves. Adora resumed her pacing.

Suddenly, Melog chirped.

“Melog says it can conceal our escape,” Catra translated.

“The cat? How?” Starla asked.

“It’s a powerful illusionist. It snuck us past the Horde’s sensors once, and I think it can do the same again.”

It growled again. Catra nodded.

“Mara is a lot bigger, so it’ll need time to prepare its magic.”

“And we will buy it,” Hordak said.

A fleeting thought crossed Adora’s mind. A realization.

“Wait. Melog can use magic here.”

Catra turned to the cat, and it nodded.

“How?”

Entrapta’s head shot up.

“Hordak, I need to borrow your TCE.”

“Of course,” he said.

She vanished into the vents.

“We need to hold off the Verumarans long enough to let Melog do its thing,” Adora said. “And with that, we could solve our magic problem.”

The Alliance gathered closely around the table. Adora scanned the map for defensible positions and took a deep breath.

“Let’s get to it,” she said.

Well over a mile from the ship stood the first line of defense.

Perfuma liked the sound of that, “first line of defense”. It sounded powerful and important. Unfortunately, she felt anything but.

She, Scorpia, and the Star Siblings were nestled into the canopy above a natural road. It had been a little less than four hours since Adora and Catra had returned, but already they could hear the distant clanking of metal. Perfuma shuddered at the thought of those massive war machines Catra had described.

Her powers brought a tiny flower from the wood of the tree she sat atop, then pushed it back into the branches. It felt wrong, like the tree was pushing against her. She didn’t speak these plants’ language, and every time she tried to bring in something that she knew, they battled it like a body fights a virus.

“Are you ready?” Jewelstar, perched on the branch beside her, asked.

“Stop pressuring me,” she said.

“Alright. You’d better be ready.”

She huffed and grew the flower taller. It should’ve been second nature, but even the petals felt heavy. She wondered if it might be her fault, or if it was really the trees, or – much worse – if it was just futile. It couldn’t just be futile.

Two limbs away, Scorpia sat nonchalantly on one of the tree’s thickest arms. She opened and closed her claws, red sparks crackling down their length again and again. It was easy for her, Perfuma sighed. She never seemed to struggle.

Tallstar dropped from the leaves above them, gracefully clinging to the trunk with her prosthetic hands.

“They’re almost here,” she reported. “I can see the trees shaking.”

More than shaking, Perfuma thought. Regardless of her connection, the cries of dying trees remained the same across the galaxy. She clenched her fists and the leaves trembled.

“The Verumarans like to approach from unexpected directions,” Jewelstar warned. “Stay alert, and watch behind you.”

Scorpia saluted. She seemed to be having far too much fun.

Perfuma steeled herself. The rattling groans of machinery were even louder now, and she could hear a rhythmic tapping and shouting.

Tallstar swung through the canopy across the road, where her sister Starla hid. And there, the five of them waited.

In the distance, the shouts grew clearer. It was a growly, gruff voice, one that sounded like her grandfather as he barked to the farmers in the fields. It shouted in time with the tapping, which Perfuma realized were drums. After each shout, dozens of voices would join in to repeat it, chanting over and over again.

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR,

SEVEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-SIX MORE,

FOREST, RAIN, ROCKS OR HAIL,

EIGHTY-NINTH! NEVER FAIL!

EIGHTY-NINTH! NEVER FAIL!

EIGHTY-NINTH! NEVER FAIL!

“Wow, they’ve got style,” Scorpia said.

“They’re very well-organized,” Jewelstar said.

“I’m kinda jealous,” she continued. “We never had anything like that in the Horde. I hate that I never thought of that. I’ll have to come up with one for us sometime.”

“Dear, please stop talking about how intimidating they are,” Perfuma said, the tension in her voice about to pop.

“Sorry.”

The noise was almost unbearable now. Scores of boots pounding on the mud and grass, the ever-present growl of engines and clatter of tanks. And that endless drumming, catchy as it was, did more to unnerve them than anything else.

Starla, who had a better view of the road than any of them, waved hurriedly. Jewelstar tensed up, drawing his knives.

“Remember the plan,” he said to Perfuma. She could only nod. She couldn’t shake the thought that she might not be able to do the plan at all.

Just as Starla signaled, the first soldiers came into view. All wore solid black and grey armor. The first was covered in red and gold trim, tapping on a drum carried over their belly and flying a dark green flag behind their back. The soldiers kept coming, more than twenty passing before the first break in their formation. Each held their large energy rifle at the ready.

Starla took a deep breath across the trees and counted down on her fingers.

Three… the soldiers kept marching.

Two… still more of them.

One… there was the end of their line.

A clenched fist. The signal.

Perfuma reached out with her magic, grasping hard for any traces of power in the soil below. Finding what she could, she channeled the rest from the Heart-Blossom’s shard within her necklace, feeling its warmth flow from the center of her chest into her hands, then shoot into the ground. She pulled up with all the magical force she could muster.

Roots and grass sprang up from the muddy path, directly beneath the soldiers’ boots. Grasping tendrils of nature wrapped around their ankles, the fingers of the forest holding them fast. An entire squad of twenty or more were arrested and fell, their panicked shouts alerting the rest. Perfuma gasped for breath. It was meant to be a wall. It was meant to be a whole forest, and she failed.

Nonetheless, the flow of drumming cut off in its tracks. The battle had begun.

Tallstar’s arm cannon spat several bolts of bright orange energy, knocking down another three soldiers before they returned fire. A hail of blasts sent her springing from her perch, scrambling for cover. Starla’s knives whirled in from another direction, slicing one trooper’s rifle in half and causing another to duck for cover.

Perfuma’s hair stood on end. From her left, Scorpia loosed a massive arc of lightning, sending half a dozen soldiers flying and the rest of their squad scrambling for cover. She drew back her claws for another blast, but the troopers began to return fire.

That didn’t last long. Jewelstar came in from the side, knives flashing across the backs of their legs. Three of them yelped and fell to the ground, the fourth stepping aside just in time. They raised their blaster, but Jewelstar knocked it to the side and kicked the soldier in the stomach.

Perfuma summoned a vine from the trees, swinging down to join him. She pulled it loose and cracked it across another soldier’s head like a whip, dropping him to the ground. Scorpia fell next to her with a heavy thud, setting a section of treeline full of troopers alight with electricity. They spied Tallstar and Starla through the chaos across the road, facing off against a trio of them.

Perfuma called on the trees, but they still resisted. She growled in frustration and yanked a branch down, cracking one soldier across the face. She whipped it to the side, but her forced commands were far too slow; the second soldier ducked beneath and blasted the branch apart. Fortunately, Tallstar took them in a chokehold as Starla knocked down the last.

“There’s more coming!” Jewelstar shouted, pointing up the road. No sooner than he had remarked, a red laser streaked narrowly over his white hair.

“Let’s get out of here!” Tallstar said, blasting away at the oncoming troopers. They began running down the path, dodging fire from behind. The night air was rapidly filling with smoke and the acrid smell of plasma. All the while, the sounds of distant tracks were growing uncomfortably loud.

“Into the trees!” Perfuma said. In the forest, they would be harder to hit.

The five of them veered off the solid earth as the soldiers behind them, now running quite quickly, began to close the gap. Wild branches whipped at their faces, roots impeded their feet, but the thick trunks granted shelter from the oncoming storm. Flashes of red poured through the trees, splinters flying all around like furious insects. She lost sight of the others. The bark stung her skin and tore at her clothes, but she kept running.

After nearly a minute, the woods began to quiet, all sound lost in the choking leaves. And she was alone.

“Scorpia?” she said hesitantly. “Scorpia!”

There was nothing but silence in response. A strained whimper escaped her lips. She began picking through the jungle, painful thoughts filling her mind, trying desperately to quiet the worry. She breathed deeply, centering herself, focusing on the life of the jungle around her. It had protected them, she assured herself. It had protected them.

She heard rustling leaves to her left. Stifling a gasp, she whipped around with her hands outstretched, preparing to pepper someone with thorns.

“Wait, it’s me,” came Jewelstar’s hoarse whisper.

Perfuma sighed. If he was okay…

“Where’s everyone else?” She held her voice back from cracking.

“I don’t know. We got separated. You?”

“Lost,” she said.

Jewelstar didn’t put his knives away, but he looked up into the canopy, peering through the leaves.

“We need to head back to the ship,” he said. Perfuma gasped.

“What? We need to find our friends!”

“We were strictly told that if anything went wrong, we go back.”

“I’m not leaving until I know Scorpia is safe.”

“If she was listening, she’s going back too.”

“You don’t know her. I do. She’ll be looking for me. I need to know she’s okay, and she needs to know–”

He stamped his foot.

“I don’t have time to argue with you! You messed up the plan. You were supposed to set up a wall, and you couldn’t. If anything happens, it’s not on me!”

She froze, heat rising in her cheeks, then in her chest.

“You don’t know my magic!” she shouted. “The plants don’t want me here, they don’t want any of us! They’re fighting me just as much as the Verumarans are! It’s not my fault!”

“What’s the difference? Plants are plants! You’re the one with the plant powers, and when I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it.”

“Well, I think you aren’t being very understanding of my needs!”

“Fine! Whatever! Go look for Scorpia! I know my sisters are headed back, and that’s where I’m going. If you end up dead, that’s your fault.”

He started to walk off, but then he froze. The ground began to tremble.

“They found us,” Perfuma whispered.

Darting back to Perfuma’s side, he planted his feet and readied his blades.

“Whatever comes through those trees, we will stand our ground,” he said. She drew magic into her hands, preparing to summon whatever of the wrath of nature she could conjure.

The rumble quieted, then burst into a roar as the trees before them cracked in two. The vines seemed to flee as a hail of splinters exploded in all directions, the trunks giving way against the roaring, raging machine. Perfuma felt the plants around her quiver.

It was just as bad – no, worse than Catra had described. Its roaring tracks were poised to turn their bodies to mulch against the jungle floor, and the skull pattern on its prow seemed ready to devour them. It rose high above them, climbing up and over the poor stumps, ready to descend and crush the two of them like bugs.

“Never mind,” Jewelstar said. “Run!”

Before they could rush further into the wood, though, the wicked cannon atop the tank pointed its gaping maw and belched forth a beam of red. A tree was reduced to cinders in an instant, and both of them were thrown to the ground.

Perfuma’s ears rang. Her chest ached, cuts all over her body stung. The leaves scratched against her face. She rolled over and, through blurry eyes, took in the tank that bore down on her and Jewelstar’s prone forms. She felt the earth beneath her body tremble and shake. She heard the trees creak and shout, the roots reaching out to her. The jungle screamed in pain and rage, seeking vengeance against the intrusive machine.

The forest despised this metal thing. The forest wanted it dead.

Suddenly, she understood. Suddenly, the speech of the trees rang loud and clear in her mind, as if she were back on Etheria.

Plants are plants. Magic is magic.

It kills us, the jungle cried. It must be destroyed.

She clenched her fingers around the fallen leaves and struggled to her feet, centering herself with a deep breath.

“Help me,” she said.

At once, the trees stopped fighting.

The Heart-Blossom glowed again, stretching out into the nature around it, but this time Perfuma did not control the plants. She beseeched them, arms wide, and they came. It was nature, after all, and she was one with nature.

The tank ground to a halt. Roots curled up from the soil, wrapping its tracks in an unbreakable web. They spiraled up its hull, coiled around it like a constrictor snake. Tree limbs descended from the sky like a spider upon its prey. They wrapped around its cannon and wrenched it sharply to the side, the next blast flying wild into the canopy. Perfuma let them take the tank into their harsh embrace, the wood creeping into its crevices and corners and finding every crack and seam. It rose from the ground, almost floating, suspended in the inescapable net of the jungle.

Tear it apart, she commanded.

With a horrific screeching, the metal began to bend and shear. Steel rent apart and welds were pulled asunder. The turret was wrenched from its mounting, the tracks pulled apart into a hundred links. The roaring engine squealed and fell silent as it was pulled from the hull. A pair of soldiers spilled onto the ground, shock written even on their faceless helmets, and scrambled into the wilderness.

The tank ceased to be. With a final flourish of her hands, the wreckage was pulled into the undergrowth, consumed by shrubbery and roots, part of the landscape as if it had never been anything else.

Thank you, whispered the trees.

Jewelstar gaped, eyes flickering back and forth from Perfuma to what remained of the tank.

“I take it back,” he said.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

The hum of the woods started to pulse in her ears like the unsteady tromping of heavy feet. No, that’s exactly what it was.

“I know where Scorpia is!” she shouted.

Without waiting for an answer, she started to run towards the sound, following the jungle’s direction. The trunks shifted apart before her, roots pulled away from her feet, a smooth tunnel opening in the wall of foliage. She found herself grinning from ear to ear, reveling in her newfound kinship with these once-foreign plants. She could feel Jewelstar following her, the grass carrying his footsteps straight to the deepest parts of her senses. The Heart-Blossom had taken on a perpetual shine, its dim pink glow standing brightly in the night.

As she drew closer to Scorpia, she began to feel more footsteps. The steady pounding of soldiers’ boots, and the intermittent shock of trunks being blown apart by plasma blasts. A great buzz sent goosebumps all down her body, and three sets of feet left the ground and their heavy weights crashed down some distance behind. Scorpia was fighting hard.

She called down the vines and up the roots and gathered them beneath her. She rode on a cascading wave of greenery faster than anyone could run, buoyed by the power of the forest.

The soldiers never saw her coming.

Continued in part three…

Chapter Text

Continued from part two…

Melog had been pacing up and down Mara’s corridors for hours.

“It needs to know what it’s disguising,” Catra had explained. “Mara is really big, so that takes a while.”

Still, Adora would really appreciate if it could hurry. The trees were starting to tremble, and there were sounds of blasters in the woods.

The mountain they had chosen was an ideal defensive position. The craggy rocks provided significant cover and would hinder the Verumaran tanks, and they held the high ground. Once the first line of defense returned, phase two would begin in full, and the Verumarans would hopefully be tied down at the foot of the mountain. Once the illusion was ready, Glimmer would teleport them back to the ship and they would be gone. Easy.

Swift Wind flew in lazy circles above the soon-to-be battlefield, clearly trying to keep her distracted with idle chatter.

“Do you think there’s horses on other planets?” he asked.

“I don’t know, probably.”

“You didn’t see any on your galactic travels, did you?”

“We only saw three people and the Horde.”

“I wonder if the space horses would be more receptive to my messaging.”

“What, the revolution didn’t work out?”

“Yeah. Once I convinced them they were enslaved, turns out a lot of Etherian horses just wanted to enslave humans instead. When education is not liberating, the dream of the oppressed is to become the oppressor, that’s what they say. Had to call it off after I caught them setting up a guillotine outside Bright Moon.”

“Oh.”

“Next time I’ll have to incorporate sensitivity training into – what’s that?”

Adora’s eyes shot over to the woods.

“What did you see?” she asked, scanning frantically back and forth.

“Some giant plant thingy, coming right up – there’s another one!”

Sure enough, barely visible against the dark of night a hundred yards away, a stalactite of twisted branches and vines jutted high above the trees for a brief second, breaching the leaves like a whale leaping from the ocean, before slamming down with an audible crash. Adora spurred Swiftie to full speed in an instant, racing for the scene of the action.

She took a mental note of the half-crushed tank soaring through the sky directly towards them. Swift Wind yelped, causing her to finally realize that there was a half-crushed tank flying directly towards them. She-Ra brought the Sword of Protection around in a wide slash and an arc of golden light sent the wreck spinning down into the woods, just barely missing the horse’s feet.

A huge tower of knotted wilderness rose high into the air before them. From it, two massive plant arms coiled around another Verumaran tank, raising it above the turret’s proverbial “head” before spiking it down with tremendous force into the ground below, followed by a muffled explosion. The entire construct shifted, leaves and creepers swarming over its surface like a mass of ants, and revealed the slight woman standing at its peak. Her dress was torn and stained brown with mud, her blond hair wild as the jungle itself, and her eyes were glowing pink with magical power.

“Oh, hello Adora!” Perfuma said.

“YOU ALMOST KILLED US!” Swift Wind bellowed.

“Sorry! Just caught up in the moment, that’s all!” She gestured behind her and a spiny tendril of bark flung half a dozen soldiers into the air.

“Uh, did you reach some power-boosting epiphany without me noticing?” Adora asked. “Because this,” she gestured to her eyes, “seems new.”

“Actually, yes, I did! And I think it could be–”

“Great, tell me later. Where’s everyone else?”

“Scorpia and Jewelstar are right under me. Tallstar and Starla are…” She stared off into space for the briefest of moments, “…over there, about to exit the forest.”

“Great. You, uh, seem to have this handled.”

“We absolutely do not!” Perfuma grinned. “There’s about five hundred more soldiers coming.”

With that news, She-Ra let herself slip back into battle mode.

“Meet us at the ship,” she ordered. “I think the spell is almost finished.”

“Speaking of spells…”

“I said later.”

They wheeled around as the princess descended back into the jungle and made for Mara at full tilt. Underneath them, Adora spotted the two Star sisters running up the hill and waving. A moment later, Glimmer materialized, grabbed them both, and disappeared in a pop of sparkles. Reaching the ship and skidding across the smooth hangar floor, Adora leaped off Swiftie’s back and took off sprinting to find Melog.

She found the cat-like alien plodding down the hallways of deck one, very near the top of the ship, Catra and Entrapta by its side. The scientist was waving the TCE over Melog every few seconds, then staring at the results and muttering to herself.

“We need to hurry this up,” Adora panted. Catra shook her head wearily.

“I’ve been telling it to hurry, but it keeps saying the spell won’t work if it doesn’t ‘know the magic.’”

“Well tell it to ‘know the magic’ faster! There’s gonna be five hundred soldiers coming up the hill any minute now, and Perfuma can’t hold them off for much longer!”

“They have been doing surprisingly well,” Entrapta remarked. “Especially with their weakened magic, the Verumarans should’ve broken the treeline some time ago.”

“But their magic isn’t weaker. Perfuma seems even stronger now, or at least stronger than she was earlier today. And her eyes were glowing, just like mine when I transform.”

Eyes shooting up from the TCE’s screen, Adora could almost see Entrapta’s attention pinging around inside her head before resettling.

“Her eyes were glowing?” she said.

“Yes, and she seemed incredibly powerful.”

“Wait here!”

Entrapta turned right around and took off on her pigtails down the hallway, leaving the other two women in the dust.

“Have fun,” Catra awkwardly waved.

They waited quietly for a few minutes before Entrapta returned, half-dragging Hordak behind her.

“Show us,” she demanded

Bow held an explosive arrow nocked and ready, crouched behind a boulder near the middle of the slope. He watched the jungle shake with activity, red flashes of plasma and electricity mingling with whipping vines.

Tallstar stood ready behind him, ducked low over the top of the stone. Her right arm was poised to fire. For the third time today, he thought of how convenient it would be to use a weapon he could hold ready to use and didn’t need to draw.

The Alliance’s plan was simple. He and Tallstar were their first line, fifty yards from the jungle’s edge. Using the light foliage to obscure their presence, they would lay down as much hurt as possible from range before Glimmer teleported in to pull them back. She-Ra and Swift Wind would provide air support all the while. Then, they would move to the second line and repeat the process, joining the other two Star Siblings. This would continue, more and more of their friends joining them at each step, until they reached the final line near the mountain’s peak, where Adora would dismount and join them on the ground before they all retreated.

He repeated the steps in his head, reassuring himself that they had everything planned out and nothing would go wrong. Everything would be fine.

“Watch the treeline,” Tallstar said.

Scorpia burst out of the jungle, hurling bolt after bolt of crimson lightning over her shoulder and hollering at the top of her lungs.

“THEY’RE HERE! START THE THING! THEY’RE HEEEEERE!”

Pink sparkles surrounded her as Glimmer appeared at her side and grabbed her arm. She was suddenly next to them with a familiar poof, thankfully no longer screaming.

“That was wild,” she breathed. Glimmer patted her on the shoulder and they settled in, waiting just a few more torturous seconds. The wall of wood swayed unnaturally, pulsing and swirling along with their pounding hearts. Gunfire echoed inside, the near-omnipresent red flashes growing brighter as the army closed in. The acrid plasma smoke reached their noses even from this far.

Then, the trees exploded.

A great mass of plant matter bubbled forth from the forest, taking shape into a huge wave of roots and vines that swept across the rocky ground. Riding atop it was Perfuma, looking quite terrifying with her tattered dress and eyes literally glowing with battle fervor. She wheeled around and a huge hammer of wood smashed down on a squad of pursuing soldiers, sweeping them back into the jungle. The nature beneath her feet bunched up and launched her high into the air, soaring right over the mountain’s little surprise and straight for Scorpia, who cleanly caught her in her massive arms.

“You are so cool,” the big princess said. Perfuma blushed.

“We’re clear!” Tallstar shouted. “Stow the cuddling and open fire!”

Bow could see the troops beginning to advance on the hill, advancing ten paces or so then dropping to their knees to fire indiscriminately into the foliage. They were disciplined and systematic, taking their time to ensure nowhere was left un-suppressed.

That didn’t mean anything, he assured himself.

He drew back his arrow, sighted a particularly close cluster of soldiers, and loosed. He didn’t wait to see the impact, ducking back and grabbing another immediately. Tallstar, Scorpia, and Glimmer rained magical blasts and energy bolts down on the attackers.

He was in good company, he thought as he released another shot.

The Verumarans were beginning to regroup. They stopped their slow, piecemeal advance, and they formed up into steady ranks, shooting on the march. Exactly what they needed to do.

Bow counted down the yards until they reached the right point. Three, two – his electric arrow took down three at once – one.

When the first rank’s feet hit the ground before them, they found that it had no substance at all. They tumbled down into the ditch, disappearing beneath Melog’s illusory terrain. The rest faltered.

Only five hundred more to go.

“Fascinating,” Entrapta repeated for the sixth time.

The fighters on the ground had retreated to the third line, giving them time to rest, and Adora returned from her air support duty to check on Melog’s progress. It was pacing around in a wide circle atop Mara’s hull.

“It’s almost finished, I think,” Catra reported. Melog growled, and she nodded. “Just a few more minutes.”

Before She-Ra could mount up again, Entrapta grabbed her by the wrist.

“Give me a moment to scan you. I need more data to compare.”

“Entrapta, let her join the battle,” Hordak said. “That needs to be our priority.”

“I really think we’re making a breakthrough here,” she continued. “With whatever Perfuma did, the data I’ve gathered from Melog, and what I can gain from analyzing She-Ra, we could figure out how to restore the magic.”

“That is not important. Ensuring that our ship and our friends are safe is all we need to care about.”

“But this could help! Imagine a fully magical planet fighting back against the Verumarans! They wouldn’t stand a chance!”

“Be realistic. One thing at a time.”

Entrapta frowned, but she let go of She-Ra’s wrist nonetheless. She swung her leg over Swiftie’s flank and prepared to kick off, but suddenly something vital flashed through her mind.

“I’ll talk to Perfuma,” she said. “She knows something important.”

She and Swift Wind leaped off the hull and swooped down to rejoin the battle. It was a sight to behold from above, a pattern of crisscrossing red, purple, and orange reflecting off the acrid plasma smoke and illuminating the darkness. Her gold soon joined the cacophony of lights, an arc of magical energy tossing aside a platoon of soldiers as she soared past.

Perfuma was standing tall atop a flat boulder, surrounded by whipping branches that shielded her from enemy fire. Every few seconds a sharp tendril would slash down at the formation of troops, sending one or more soldiers flying. Adora came in close and leaped from Swift Wind’s back behind her.

“Sorry I put this off, but now is later!” she called.

“Sorry?” Perfuma asked.

“What happened in the jungle?”

The sphere of branches receded as she dropped behind the stone for cover. They crouched together and Perfuma explained the situation.

“It took me some time,” she said, “but I realized that I was thinking of nature here as separate from my nature. I thought these plants were different and I was trying to put magic into them, but the magic is already in everything. It’s just under the surface, and you just need to understand it before it’ll come out.”

Adora furrowed her brow. It made sense, sort of, and she could sense a hint of a realization swimming around inside her head.

“Cool, thanks,” she said flatly. “Back to it.”

“Lovely talk,” Perfuma chirped.

The magic is already in everything. She replayed these words as Swift Wind swooped down and gathered her up again. What was it that she didn’t get?

Her thoughts were interrupted as she noticed the treeline shaking again. The tanks had arrived.

Roaring like monstrous animals, they crawled up the slope like it was nothing. She knew they couldn’t get past the ditch, now plainly visible a few yards from the mountain’s foot. Sure enough, they growled to a halt just before it. Their cannons swiveled and rose, angrily searching for the defenders. Adora prepared to swing around and warn them, but she saw an instant too late that the cannons weren’t aiming at anything on the ground.

They were aiming at Mara.

The entire world shook with their first volley, the line of vehicles letting loose a roar of scarlet plasma that arced clear over the light woods and slammed into their ship’s shields. Hovering low above the mountaintop, so massive she obscured the horizon, she was an easy target.

That wouldn’t do, Adora thought. She readied her sword and spurred Swiftie into a dive.

Before they could reach the first tank, though, a small blaster turret mounted above its main gun swung around and spat rapid lasers straight at her. She summoned her shield and blocked their burst, but Swift Wind was forced to pull away at the last second.

The tanks’ next shots nearly rocked Swiftie out of the sky, plasma pounding hard on Mara’s shields. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that Catra was still up there. They whirled around, dodging another laser burst, and tore off towards the ship.

Everyone topside was okay, thank goodness. She ran to Catra’s side, dropping her She-Ra form and hugging her tight.

“Hey, we’re not out of it yet,” Catra said.

As if answering her, the ship rocked again, a wave of force rippling through the shield above their head.

“Are we ready to go up there?” Seahawk’s voice came over Hordak’s trackerpad. “I don’t know how much more she can take!”

“Not yet,” Hordak said. He glared pointedly at Melog, who was seated with a faraway look in its pale blue eyes.

“I think Perfuma has the answer to our magic problem,” Adora said. “She said that the magic is already there, or something like that.”

“Is that useful?” Catra asked.

“Maybe a little? I’m not sure I get it yet, but I have to try.”

She glared down the slope at the tanks, so small against the jungle. So small, so insignificant. Even the Verumaran ship, so huge up close, was barely a tiny rectangle on the horizon. She was suddenly struck by just how massive this planet was. How powerful and alive.

She thought of how Perfuma used her magic. She didn't just summon plants. No, she used the life around her. She pulled from what was already there, enhancing it, commanding it to do incredible things.

The magic was already there.

Mara’s shields failed. The ship jerked back and forth at the tanks’ final blast. Adora lost her balance and plummeted off the side. An unfamiliar serenity overtook her, however, and she relaxed as she fell. She saw the ground coming towards her and took it, making a perfect three-point landing on the mountainside.

With the smoke and cinder of the explosion falling all around her, she pressed her palm to the stone and listened to its silent conversations. The land was living, and it was calling to her. Its life flowed through every vein beneath the ground. Tero’s breath touched her face, brushed the hair into her gently closed eyes.

The battle meant so little to this planet, yet so much. The army was an invasion into this perfect system, a virus that needed to be purged. And yet Tero could do nothing against it on its own. It needed them to bring its power to the surface. It needed her.

She knew the right words:

I promise to fight for you.

When she opened her eyes, she only saw the glow.

The soldiers were drawing close. Whenever Glimmer blasted one away, another would step into line in their place. She was starting to tire, her breath catching in her chest, her arms struggling to lift her staff again. She ducked behind her stone, panting hard.

Before she knew what was happening, one of them was upon her. He thrust out with his blaster and she saw the glint of a blade mounted on its end. She knocked it aside with her staff and stumbled backward, squaring off with the huge trooper preparing to skewer her on his bayonet. She looked frantically for Bow, but he was nowhere to be seen. The soldier growled, deep and animalistic, as he advanced.

Despite the darkness, a shadow began to stretch out behind him. His attention faltered for a brief second.

As if a bright blue sun had been suddenly conjured on the mountaintop, the night turned into day. The sounds of battle faded as light crept down the hill, sweeping across the stone and emerging from within its cracks. The ranks of soldiers staggered, covering their eyes frantically to ward off the painful glare.

The trooper before Glimmer lunged blindly, a strike which would have gone into her belly if not for the glowing rune that appeared in the air as she raised her staff. Reflexively, she had summoned a spell of force.

She could use her sorcery! Adora had done it!

Thrilled beyond words, she rotated her hands pushed the spell outwards, shoving the soldier back down the hill. She turned to see the wonderful sight for herself, the bright blue star emanating from the peak with the silhouette of She-Ra at its center.

“Regroup!” she heard Jewelstar shouting. “Back to the fourth line!”

Snapping out of her reverie, she ran towards the sound of his voice. They knew the drill now, she could see them linking arms. Several bore fresh cuts and bruises, but they seemed fine. Bow was clutching Scorpia’s arm tightly, his quiver nearly empty. She grabbed his hand.

She took a quick moment to assess the battle. The incoming fire had lessened. In the new light, she could see many soldiers turning and running back down the slope. More than half of them were retreating!

But the tanks weren’t turning. Mara’s shields were down. And now Glimmer could do something about it.

“We’re going back inside,” she said. The rest nodded. The world brightened and swirled around them and they were suddenly inside Mara’s expansive hangar, safe for the moment.

She let go quickly and teleported high to the top of the ship, looking down on the entire battlefield. Lit by Adora’s now-fading glow, she could see the scores of craters and wisps of smoke that covered it. Trees had fallen and boulders were smashed. Hundreds of black-armored soldiers swarmed across the mountainside like ants.

Entrapta was frantically searching the hull. Glimmer noticed that the TCE, that jerry-rigged trackerpad with the bulky antenna, was gone. Hordak, helping her look, noticed her arrival.

“The spell is ready!” he said.

Melog’s eyes were glowing brightly, seemingly strengthened by Adora’s magic, and the metal beneath its feet was rippling with the prepared illusion.

“Is Adora okay?” Catra asked wild-eyed.

“More than okay!” Glimmer said. “The magic is working!”

“That’s great news,” Hordak said, “but those tanks are going to tear us apart.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!”

She turned towards the enemy, arms outstretched, and touched the magic in the air. She drew power from the world and wove it tight, summoning a massive rune as wide as she was tall. Stretching her hands to their full span, she reshaped the magic into an impenetrable wall of light, and not a moment too soon.

Red streaks, warped and refracted by the shimmering barrier, roared toward her in a great arc. She braced her feet against the deck hard and closed her eyes, and she felt the explosions rattle her very bones. But her sorcerous shield held fast.

Through the wall, they could see the multicolored wings of Swift Wind parting the smoke, carrying a notably normal-sized Adora on his back. Glimmer took a deep breath and dropped the shield. They had to move fast.

“Everyone inside right now!” she ordered.

Catra caught Adora as she slumped off her steed. With a nod of confirmation, Melog set the entire hull to shimmer. As the plates seemed to fall away beneath their feet, revealing nothing but mountain underneath, they hurried to the access hatch.

“Wait, we need to get the TCE back!” Entrapta shouted.

“It’s already gone,” Hordak said. “We don’t need it anymore.” There was a note of pain in his voice, all that work going to waste.

Entrapta glanced around for a moment, then nodded sternly and ran for the door.

“Go, go, go!” Catra repeated. Melog was the last one inside, and the hatch shut with a resounding clunk.

“Captain, we’re all clear,” Hordak said. The ship lurched hard as she accelerated.

Melog mewled, and Catra smiled.

“It’s over. We’re gone.”

All the doors were buttoned up, the engines humming strong, and every one of them was safely on board. Inside the airlock, they sighed and hugged one another tightly.

Adora slept like a rock for several hours. Restoring magic to an entire planet had taken a lot out of her. When she showed up in the lounge, bleary-eyed and with hair like a bird’s nest, she was met with cheers. Catra kissed her cheek and led her gently to a couch, where she flopped down and smiled awkwardly.

“I guess that means it worked?” she said.

“Worked?” Bow said. “Of course it worked! You did it!”

“Do you really not remember?” Glimmer asked.

“Yeah, I kinda blacked out,” she laughed. “I guess that stuff is a lot harder when you’re not juiced up on all the magic in the Heart of Etheria.

“Before today,” Tallstar said, “I was a little skeptical about your mission. But now it’s possible. More than that, I know we can win against Verumar. We defeated a whole regiment!”

“We nearly lost,” Catra said.

“But think of what we could do with magic on every planet!” Starla said. “They won’t be so quick to attack next time, that’s for sure.”

“And next time, we’ll have allies,” Jewelstar said. “There’s a planet called Jariah that helped us in our revolution against the Horde. We have friends there who’ll be willing to help us again.”

"Though it's halfway across this galaxy, so it'll be a few days," Tallstar added.

"It's not like we have a destination," Glimmer shrugged.

“Great!” Seahawk said. “Let me just make a call, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Adora rested her head on Catra’s shoulder. Despite herself, she felt herself being pulled back into the web of sleep.

“Today was a rough day,” Catra murmured.

“Mm-hmm.”

Then, as her friends slowly began to disperse, the two women drifted off together on the sofa in the lounge of the ship they tentatively called home, for the first time in weeks thinking better of the future.

Chapter Text

High General Evelyn’s heels made no echoes in the Leviathan’s cramped and noisy engine deck, lost in the constant grumble of the fusion reactor. How anyone could work, much less live in this nightmarishly spartan place was far beyond her, but she supposed that ridiculous cyborg would make do in a trash compactor if he could build machines from the garbage.

Every engineer snapped to a salute as she passed, but she waved them back to work with a scowl. She did not address them, and she was here for the purpose clutched in her right hand. If they wanted to show her some respect, keep her ship running and don’t draw attention to their sweaty enlisted faces.

The detestable Trap-Jaw was, as usual, hunched over his workbench. His right arm churned and whirled with a dozen little needles and tools, acting with perfect precision and the speed of an army of mechanics.

“Mechanist, I require your attention,” Evelyn snapped.

“High General. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Trap-Jaw’s computer-generated tone never betrayed any hint of emotion, so Evelyn assumed everything he said was meant to be delivered with a level of snark.

He didn’t look up. Of course, the one person on this deck she actually needed to interact with consistently refused to.

“Did you forget to salute or does your arm disobey you?

“Sorry. You know how this thing is sometimes.”

He made a big show of wrenching his black steel limb away from whatever contraption it was buried in and slowly turned to face her, folding its various digits into a bladed hand and very deliberately touching the palm to his chest in salute. His head was covered in cybernetics, his right eye and mouth replaced by dark metal. The entire lower half of his face was replaced by a smooth metal plate, and his right eye was soulless and red and much too large.

She curled her lip, which he evidently took as an ‘at ease’ even though it very much was not. Still, there was no use in arguing with the contentious mule.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the fiasco on Tero,” she said.

“Seven skull tanks lost, a whole regiment driven off by a dozen children, all for the vanity of one colonel.”

“Colonel Krazut hoped to put the enemy on edge and prevent them from completing their objective. He entirely failed, and on top of it all the Eighty-Ninth has lost us our trail. She-Ra and her vessel have employed some sort of cloaking device, and they have completely disappeared from our scopes. We believe it is…” she hesitated, the words tasting strange in her mouth, “magical in nature.”

“And why is this my business?”

“Because they may have left a clue behind.”

She held up the mysterious device that her troops had recovered from the mountainside. It was slightly battered and its antenna was askew, but – and it pained her to even think this – Trap-Jaw could unlock it.

He reached over and took it from her, turning it over in his hands. His cybernetic digits began to tap at it, examining every inch of its construction.

“It appears to be a primitive communication device.”

“That was my thought. We can trace—”

“No, ” he said, activating its display, “ That is not it. Its function has been modified.”

The screen showed the letters TCE and requested a password. Trap-Jaw pried a panel from the back and began rummaging through its circuitry.

“Interesting. My initial assessment of its advancement has been proven incorrect. The construction of this device is remarkably sophisticated. It will take some time to crack.”

If only he would be so willing to admit when he was wrong in anything else.

“Very well. I want it done as soon as possible.”

“I have an armored battalion to patch up. That is my priority.”

“This is vital to our effort to track down the Etherians,” Evelyn scowled.

“I do not care. If you want results, you will give me my time.”

Again, there was no use in argument. She spun on her heel and marched away, making haste to end the conversation.

Even as she stormed off, however, possibilities danced in her head. She would have more than bad news to report to Lord Skeletor after all.

Chapter Text

Entrapta let the weightlessness of the vacuum lift her far from Mara’s hull. She turned over and over again, free and flying. In space, no one was there to tie her down. Gravity itself was trivial. She could cut her tether and float away forever. That was a bad idea, but as a rhetorical impulse it felt great.

A gentle tug brought her back, literally. Hordak waved at her from the other end of the cable.

“Oh, right. Copy,” she said, even though he hadn’t said anything. She swam through the expanse and scooped up her welding torch, setting back to work.

The ship hadn’t quite escaped the scuffle on Tero unscathed. She had been hit by the last volley, piercing her shields and exposing the hull to high amounts of heat. A few spots along her pointed forward hull were marred by plasma burns. Entrapta had recruited her lab partner to help fix her up on the voyage to Jariah.

One damaged plate had been pulled loose, set adrift to the side. Hordak held its replacement in place while Entrapta set about connecting its wiring.

The plating of Mara’s hull was deeply complex and highly advanced. It was made of a strange alloy she had dubbed fulmenium. The metal was extremely malleable, allowing it to deform when hit, but had a high durability comparable to First Ones alloys. The hull plating itself was woven through with an extensive wiring network that controlled its energy shield, which allowed the protective system to be projected from all points in the ship simultaneously rather than a centralized generator. However, the shield was somewhat harmed by Tero’s atmosphere, being designed for a spacebound vessel and having to be slightly retrofitted by Entrapta’s own hand to operate on a planet’s surface at all. In the moment, she didn’t know why she made the adjustment, but in hindsight it paid to be prepared. The shield itself was formed by an extremely powerful magnetic field that also held air inside the ship. As long as the shields were active, doors could be opened to the vacuum without losing any air. Said air was kept clean by sophisticated recycling systems that came stock, but the arboretum installed on Deck Nine helped offset the somewhat stale and claustrophobic nature of spacecraft oxygen. Speaking of the arboretum, the irrigation system was very well-designed, utilizing traditional Plumerian methods and consisting of—

The wires sparked to life. Entrapta pushed off from the delicate machinery and allowed Hordak to lower the panel into place, at which point her partner began the process of reattaching it to its neighbors and properly covering the dark underbelly of the ship. White-hot sparks flew, casting his thin face in sharp shadow. He matched the ship well, all acute and starkly colored.

“Plate five is secure,” he announced.

“Lighting her up,” Entrapta said. Pushing a few buttons on her tracker pad, the white metal visibly pulsed with pale green energy as the shields reactivated. She’d managed to turn everything else purple, but the shields eluded her. One day.

Nonetheless, she watched as the shimmering wave coursed up and down Mara’s angular frame, admiring how tiny sparks flickered off to join the stars, how minuscule heat mirages curled the perfect edges and obscured the sharp corners.

She turned to Hordak and gave a thumbs-up. He returned the gesture.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“No,” she said flatly.

“Right. Silly question.”

Tugging on her tether, she began to float back to the airlock. For whatever reason, he didn’t follow immediately.

“Are you coming?” she said.

“Just admiring the view.”

Come to think of it… Entrapta turned her gaze to the stars around. The pinpricks of light, as they were many years ago, twinkled in their whites and blues and reds. In the far distance, a bright band of pinkish clouds stretched across the black like a great pale birthmark.

“I don’t blame you,” she said. “I’d spend hours staring at it when I first came up here.”

“You can’t even see that nebula from Etheria,” he mused. “Ten light-years across, and it’s still so small.”

“A sense of scale is the first thing you lose in space.”

“How can beings so tiny have a right to something so vast?”

“No, bad Hordak. No philosophy.”

“Sorry.”

Entrapta put a hand on his shoulder.

“Time to go!” she chirped. “Other things in need of fixing!”

Together, they made their way into the airlock, leaving the stars outside.

The following morning, Seahawk found himself in a vital spot on the crew rotation.

Breakfast. The legendary Most Important Meal of the Day. Seahawk’s father had long ago impressed upon him the value of a good breakfast, and as today’s cook, it was his responsibility – nay, his calling – to provide one.

He set about his quest with the vigor and charisma that he applied to every task, loudly proclaiming to the empty galley, “Witness how a true sailor prepares his meals!” The ship beeped at him, which he took to mean it was paying rapt attention.

Taking stock of the pantry, he gave many thanks that he would not need to eat hardtack on this voyage. He recalled a dish his father once prepared and gathered those ingredients he required, ensuring that there was enough to feed thirteen. Scratch that, fourteen, Scorpia ate enough for two. He set aside two large pastry shells and a dozen smaller ones in a cupcake tin. Eggs, salmon, onions, cheese, butter, and dill.

A thought occurred to him, and he poked his head into the dining area. Scorpia and Catra were sitting at the table attempting to play cards.

“Is Perfuma vegan?” he asked.

“Nah,” Scorpia said.

“Really? I thought so.”

“Well, she talks to plants, so it’d be a little weird to eat them and not animals just because flowers are dumber.”

That’s fair. Seahawk shrugged and returned to his work.

It was an hour before his magnificent breakfast was complete, but oh what a glorious smell it made. Recruiting the help of the adorable robot Emily, who was surprisingly good at balancing things on top of her spherical chassis, he emerged from the galley bearing three trays of warm, golden-baked perfection. And many glasses of orange juice, to stave off scurvy.

“Who wants quiche!” he shouted.

Most of the crew were already there, minus one Adora. They tucked in readily, and even while eating his own serving, Seahawk nodded sagely at every murmur of ‘hmm’ and ‘mm’ he could pick out.

“Who let Seahawk cook?” Catra said.

His smile faltered. Did she…?

“‘Cuz it was a good idea, we should do it more often.”

He sighed in relief. Victory! He had officially pleased the moody one!

“Where’s Adora?” Glimmer asked.

“Oh, she was still sleeping,” Catra said between bites. “I let her be. Swift Wind said he’d ‘look after her,’ whatever that means.”

“Sleeping in isn’t like her,” Bow said.

“Well, she deserves it,” Scorpia said.

“Fair.”

“So, after we get to this Jariah and do… whatever we were doing, where do we go next?” asked Catra.

“Wherever the next place is, I guess,’ said Bow.

“Wait, you don’t have a plan?” asked Jewelstar.

“Nope. We’re not really that type.”

“Plus, whenever we try to plan, Adora gets extremely neurotic,” Entrapta added.

“Well, we can’t just wander around the galaxy and wait for the Verumarans to find us,” Tallstar said.

“Hey, that Verumar thing is your problem,” Catra said. “We didn’t come up here to fight a war, we’re here to do magic stuff.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Jewelstar said. “Verumar will be your problem if we don’t stop them. You think they’ll leave Etheria alone? They’re an empire, and empires conquer until nothing is left.”

“Hey, they weren’t that tough,” Seahawk said. “We can let them find us and then beat them up again, just like last time.”

“That was one regiment. Next time, there’ll be more. We need to be ready, we need alliances, and we need real leadership.”

“We’re not soldiers,” Hordak said. “Not anymore.”

The argument halted. Everyone at the table knew well enough the violence that Hordak had been through, and those who didn't could infer well enough.

That said, it wasn’t hard to detect that the discussion wasn’t quite finished.

Seahawk finished his slice of quiche.

“To be fair…” Starla said, “I think we could use a captain.”

“Technically, we already have a captain,” Entrapta said, gesturing to Seahawk. He may or may not have blushed.

“No, like someone in charge. A leader who decides where we go next. So we don’t have to argue all the time.”

Seahawk’s eyes lit up. A perfect role for him! He was already a Captain by title, why not be…

“Cool, I nominate Adora,” Catra said.

On second thought, she was a way better choice.

“I second that,” Glimmer said.

“All in favor?” Catra asked. Every person at the table raised their hand. “That settles it. All hail Captain Adora.” She downed her juice in a very final manner, then brazenly stole a quiche from Entrapta’s plate and dropped it under the table for Melog.

At that very moment, Adora had dragged herself out of bed. Or, off the floor. She had somehow ended up there, though Swift Wind had assured her that he hadn’t let her injure herself.

“I mean, you didn’t, like, flop down, ya know? I set you down. Gently. Cuz you were gonna end up down there anyway, and I figured, ‘Why not give her an easier time of it?’ Hehe. I probably should’ve put you back on the bed. Hey, I sleep standing up, so I don’t have much experience… yeah, I’ll leave now.”

Looks like Catra’s stink-eye skills were rubbing off on her.

In any case, her hair was a nightmare. Nightmare. Huh, she swore she’d just woken up from one, but she couldn’t remember a thing.

She pulled it back into her usual ponytail and got her bearings. Usually, she had no reason to check the time. Her sleep patterns did most of the work: bed at precisely lights-out, up at the crack of dawn. That’s how she’d done it her entire life. But today, she was awake after Catra. Long after, by the fact that the foot of the bed was cold when she’d woken up. That just… didn’t happen, in all the half-year they’d been together lately and all the fifteen years they’d been together in the Horde.

Outliers, she reminded herself. This is a one-time thing, a statistical outlier. Eating spiders and all that junk.

She stepped out of her room and headed for the galley. That’s probably where everyone was, since it was still morning. Probably.

Walking into the dining area, she was met with a wall of shouted arguments.

“I’m telling you, it’s closed on one side!” Catra roared. “Have you ever seen a sandwich that’s closed on one side?”

“Yeah, I have!” Glimmer shouted. “It’s called a sub! And have you ever seen a taco made of bread?! They’re made of tortillas, you uncultured molly!”

“It has a sausage in the middle! What kind of sandwich has a whole sausage in the middle!”

“What the–” Adora started, but before she could say anything, Bow spotted her and stood, silencing the table. His mouth was set in a grave line, and his brow was furrowed with concern. The rest of them glared daggers at one another, seemingly split in half across some esoteric party line.

“Adora, thank goodness you’re here,” he said. “I swear, they’re at each others’ throats. Everyone is taking sides. We need you to settle this.”

“I have no idea what’s happening.”

“Is a hot dog a sandwich or a taco?”

Everything fell away. The table, her friends, the delicious smell of breakfast that she’d really rather be eating. The stars themselves parted and the heavens turned black. For a second, the universe was frozen still. It was just her, alone with that astronomically stupid question.

“You’re joking.”

“It’s very serious,” Bow said. She swore one of them stifled a snort.

“I think… it’s a hot dog. It doesn’t really fit in either of those categories.”

There was silence on the battlefield. Jewelstar stood up from his seat.

“Alright, she passed,” he said.

“I what?”

“That was a test to determine if you’re worthy to be our new captain,” Scorpia oh-so-helpfully explained.

“We already all voted for you, but we wanted to make sure you were the right choice,” Tallstar said.

“It was Glimmer’s idea,” Scorpia added.

“Sorry, stop. Start over from the beginning. Captain? We already have a captain.”

“Yes,” Seahawk said, “but we needed a new one since I’m a sea-captain and not yet suited to be a space-captain.”

“That’s literally not what we talked about at all,” Catra said.

“Starla thought,” Jewelstar interrupted, “that we needed a leader. Someone who could decide our next course and make tough calls so that not everything results in an argument over what to do next. We held a vote and unanimously appointed you.”

Adora stood there in mild disbelief.

“I’m not… I can’t… but I… I can’t be your leader!”

“Uh, why not?” Catra asked.

“Because… well, you know! I’m not good at talking, I don’t know anything about space or what we’re getting into, and… I just don’t want it!”

Jewelstar’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Adora, we need you. We need someone with strength and intelligence. Someone experienced and brave. It’s a dangerous and confusing galaxy, and you have every quality that makes a captain. You are the hero we need.”

Adora’s face darkened. Though the words were different, she had heard them before.

“Do I get a choice in this?”

“Well, we’re headed into a war, and…”

“Oh, that’s right!” she snapped. “You want us to be soldiers, now, do you? I’ll fight to protect people, but I won’t be dragged into another war!”

She stomped away down the long corridor, leaving her friends confused and a little concerned at the door to the galley. All the way, the same thought echoed in her head:

What have I gotten myself into?

Halfway to her room, she realized she didn’t even get breakfast. No time to go back now. They’d think she wasn’t really mad.

Catra, bearing a plate of now-lukewarm quiche, found her in the gym.

Adora was crouched next to the weight bench, changing out a barbell for something heavier. She was breathing harder than normal. Her dampened tank top clung tightly to her… now is not the time.

Catra cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Did you see these weights go up to two hundred each?” she asked. “I mean, who even benches that much? It’s totally… uh…”

She trailed off as she noticed Adora had frozen. Her posture was stiff and unwelcoming.

“Did you agree to appoint me the captain?” Adora asked. Her voice was unusually level.

“Um… I nominated you.”

“Okay.”

She returned to her task, slipping the clamp collar onto the barbell sleeve. Two fifty-pound plates on each side, Catra noted. If she were anyone else, you’d think she was trying to break her arms.

Catra waited for a moment. Adora still didn’t say a word, laying back and wrapping her fingers around the steel bar.

She found a bench off to the side and trudged over to it, moved to set down Adora’s breakfast. Her claws had unwittingly scratched the polished metal plate. An hour for screwups.

“I’ll just leave this here,” she said quietly.

“Don’t go.”

She turned back. Adora had sat up and was looking deep into her eyes. Pale, thoughtful blue.

Without another thought, they were sitting next to each other. Not talking quite yet. Just sitting.

Adora was the first to break the silence.

“I know you couldn’t have known I’d feel like that,” she said.

“I thought you were the right choice.”

“I don’t.”

Catra laced her fingers into hers. She looked into Adora’s eyes once again, and they both took a deep breath. Calm down.

“Are you okay, Adora?” she gently asked.

“I feel fine.”

“No, in general. This morning. You slept in for the first time in something like a year, and then you came in and kinda snapped at everybody. I just want to know if you’re alright.”

Adora’s gaze drifted for a second.

“Well, I had a strange dream last night. Do you remember three days ago, when I kicked you in the face?”

“How could I forget?”

“I can’t remember a thing about either one, but I know tonight I had it again.”

“That’s… a little weird, but I don’t think you should worry about it.”

“It feels important. I can’t say why.”

Catra kissed her on the cheek.

“We’ll figure it out. Together. Like we always do.”

“That doesn’t feel as reassuring as it used to. I guess because I thought those times were over.”

They sat together for a little while longer. After some time, Catra stood.

“Anyway, you’d better eat your breakfast,” she said. “It’s a little cold by now, but Seahawk’ll get sad if he finds out you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Adora nodded. “I love you.”

“We’ll work on getting out of this mood, okay? I love you too.”

By afternoon, everyone seemed to be feeling better.

Of all the rooms converted from the ship’s vast deployment bays, the training dojo was by far Bow’s favorite. Because it had a shooting range. What kind of archer would he have been if he hadn’t demanded a shooting range?

When there wasn’t much else to do, like when the ship was running a pre-charted course and nothing could go wrong except the exceedingly small chance of running into something, he liked to come down here and sink some arrows into targets. That’s what he was doing now. Just him and the old Best Friends Squad, hanging out like Best Friends do.

“Shoot faster, nerd!” Catra roared from the bench.

“Don’t listen to her! She’s trying to throw you off!” Glimmer shouted.

“AIM FOR THE EYES!” Adora said.

“They’re targets, they don’t have eyes!” Bow yelled back. He plucked another arrow from the quiver, nocked, drew, aimed, released. Something he’d done a thousand times, both at things with eyes and without. He could do it in under a second. Not sure how Catra wanted him to go any faster.

“Come on, that was barely a bullseye! Do better!” Catra shouted.

“You’re doing great!” Glimmer countered.

“TAKE ITS LEGS OFF!” Adora cheered.

“None of this is helping,” Bow muttered to himself.

He sunk his last arrow into the last bullseye with a satisfying thwack. He lowered the bow and stepped over to the three targets, measuring the distribution of the holes with his fingers. None of the arrows were more than an index fingertip away from one another.

“Still got it!” Adora shouted as he pulled the first pair out of the paper. Catra harrumphed, her arms crossed.

“What, are you disappointed?” Bow smiled.

“Just making sure you don’t get cocky, that’s all,” Catra said.

“I think she thinks she can do better,” Glimmer smirked.

“What? Oh, that’s not–”

“Yeah, I think that’s what she’s saying,” Bow nodded.

“We all have our specialties, and I’d just be–”

“Come on, Catra, give it a shot! It’ll be fun,” Adora said.

“Unless…” Glimmer leaned in close… “she thinks she can’t do it.”

Catra’s expression hardened, steel in her eyes. Now her ego was on the line. She stood tall and marched with her chin up to the shooting line, staring straight at Bow with her hands out.

“Give it here,” she ordered.

“Be my guest,” he said, mock bowing as he handed her the bow and quiver.

He stifled a cringe almost immediately as she pinched an arrow between her claws and held it up to the string.

“No, no, don’t grab the arrow, it’ll wobble. Hold the string with three fingers under the nock, like this.” He curled the tips of his fingers in demonstration. To her credit, she got it immediately. Balanced atop of her index finger and securely nocked in place, she aimed the arrow true enough, and pulled.

And then tugged harder.

And then harder still.

“Uh, why isn’t it moving?” she asked.

“You gotta put your shoulders into it.”

She shrugged and, straining with all her strength, pulled back the string. With a mighty tug, she managed to get it about halfway to her cheek, then released it with a gasp. The arrow thudded into the front target’s wooden post.

“Okay, how heavy is this thing!” Catra shouted.

“About a hundred and twenty pounds?” Bow ventured.

In the back, Adora’s jaw dropped. Catra just shrugged.

“Explains a lot,” she muttered.

“Are you kidding?” Adora said. “This… SUPERWEAPON has been right in my face the whole time and I’ve never even tried it? Give it to me.”

Catra handed it off, and Adora stepped up to the shooting line in her place. She mimicked the three-under grip and, Bow noticed with a near-involuntary nod of approval, even got her toes pointed correctly. She looked down the shaft and pulled, holding nothing back. To Bow’s surprise, she got it right up to her cheek, though said cheek was scrunched by a strained grimace and her arms were visibly trembling.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally released, sending the arrow flying high above the target and clattering off the back wall.

“You held it for too long,” Bow remarked.

“You make it look easy,” she shook her head. “Glimmer, you want a try?”

“No thank you,” Glimmer laughed. “I know how that’ll go.”

“Did you know about this?” Adora asked, a little accusingly.

“Uh, yeah? How do you think his shoulders got like that?”

“I’m disappointed you never let me try this,” Adora turned back to Bow.

“You have a magic sword that can cut spaceships in half!”

“Touché.”

“I’m not sure why you’re surprised,” Catra said. “The thing hits like a truck.”

“To be fair, you’re the only one he’s actually shot,” Glimmer said.

A metal plate crashed to the floor. Bow yelped.

“Oops,” said a familiar someone above their heads.

“Entrapta, you could kill someone with that!” Bow shouted.

“Nice to see you too!” she waved back. Hanging from her pigtails, she dropped to the floor and looked around the room.

“Looking for something?” Glimmer asked.

“Yes. Have any of you seen Tallstar around? I’ve been meaning to follow up on her promise that I could examine her mechanical limbs but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find her.”

That was a conversation that Bow had not at all been privy to.

“Not seen her, sorry,” he said.

“Shame.”

“You know, there’s a bunch of parts of the ship without giant vents,” Catra said. “Maybe she’s just there.”

Entrapta stared blankly at her for a second.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll tell Hordak to look there. Ooh, what’s this?”

She scooped up the bow in her violet hair and examined it from every direction.

“It’s my bow,” Bow said.

“That’s your name,” Entrapta said.

“Yes.”

“Is it named after you?”

“What? No, bows have been around way longer than me.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ve been using that as long as I’ve known you, how have–?”

She snatched an arrow from the quiver and, with blinding speed, set the farthest target reeling with a shaft embedded in its center.

“A little low-tech for my taste,” she remarked, dropping the bow. “You should look into getting an upgrade.”

And with that, she plucked the vent cover from the floor and was gone.

The four friends were silent for a few moments. Bow didn’t really know how to process any of that.

“Soooo… does that mean it's hers now?” Catra asked.

Chapter Text

Continued from part one...

Even a galaxy away, Seahawk could nearly smell the salt drifting in through the open windows, hear the distant gulls crying out in the evening air, and feel the sea breeze ruffling his (perfectly combed yet fashionably tousled) hair. But as the majesty of Salineas entranced his other senses, his eyes could not see its spellbinding colors. They were fixed on only one thing.

Her beauty eclipsed all others. The setting moons shimmered in her hair as over the waves themselves. Mahogany irises pierced the soul from beneath an alluring, half-lidded gaze. Her lips curled in the barest of smiles, reciting wondrous sonnets of passion without a word. Her fingers tap-tapped gently upon her flawless cheek, playing a beautiful melody that only Seahawk’s heart could hear. There was no sight, either in the vast depths of the ocean or the unending expanses of space, that could compare.

“It’s going, I guess,” Mermista said.

“Perfect. Tell me everything,” Seahawk said.

“I dunno, there was like a party or something? I was at the snack bar the whole time.”

Seahawk nodded, already entranced by her epic tale.

“Oh, no, I remember this,” she smiled dryly. “Micah made an absolute fool of himself doing karaoke. It sounded like if Wild Dolphin was an actual wild dolphin.”

“Hah!” Seahawk laughed. “He is a terrible singer, isn’t he?”

“And Frosta started pelting hailstones at him until he stopped. Guy has no shame, you gotta give him that.”

“Ah, that’s wonderful! How is Frosta, by the way?”

“A bit moody, but fine.”

“Why would she be moody?”

“I don’t know, maybe ‘cause all of her friends went to space and then told her she couldn’t come.”

“Oh, not that again. You know she’s just a kid.”

“You were setting boats on fire when you were, like, twelve.”

“Yes, and my father chastised me viciously for it. We’re meant to set good role models for the young lady.”

“Did you stop though?”

“No. But that’s what breaking the cycle is all about.”

Mermista snorted.

“Role models. Like you’re her dad.”

“No, but I may be someone’s one day.” He winked.

She sighed and covered her face with one hand. But was that a hint of rose in her cheeks?

“Anyway,” she said, “we’ve still got that big meeting tonight. That Hunter lady is supposed to show up in a few minutes.”

“Huntara,” Seahawk corrected.

“Yeah, sure.”

“If I may ask,” he continued, “why have the party before the conference? Wouldn’t it be best to blow off steam afterward?”

“Nah. This way, whenever there’s an argument, we can remember how stupid we all looked, ‘cause you can’t be mad at someone who spent last night singing along to trashy boy bands.”

“Fair enough.”

In the background of the video call, a tinkling bell caught Mermista’s attention. She leaned off to the side, speaking with someone out of frame. As her back was turned, Seahawk quietly admired her hair. There was a little seashell pinning the locks back over her ear, which was new.

“Is that Huntara?” she asked, slightly muffled.

“No, it’s someone named Kyle,” said a tiny voice from the edge of the microphone. “He asked for you by name.”

“Ugh,” she Mermista’d. That was a word Seahawk had made up. It meant whenever Mermista said “ugh” in that way that no one else seemed to enjoy but set his heart aflutter.

“Duty calls,” Seahawk said.

“Yeah, whatever. I gotta go.”

“I love you truly, dearest, no matter how many stars stand between us.”

“You too. Bye.”

The call clicked to an end, and she was gone. Seahawk’s soul returned to space, and he glanced around his quarters. Decorated with many, many mementos from his sailing days, cluttering the walls and shelves all around. But most prized of all was a single image, the last he and his dearest Mermista had taken together before they left. It hung in a place of honor above his sea chest. In its frame was a joyful couple, Seahawk beaming with excitement and Mermista managing a neutral expression that he knew meant true happiness. They stood together, arms intertwined, upon the deck of the Dragon’s Daughter VII. In Mermista’s hand, she held a lit torch. That boat no longer existed, but the memory would be cherished forever.

Seahawk patted the communicator (installed in his room by special request) and straightened his jacket. As he sauntered out, he whistled a jaunty tune that suspiciously resembled a song by Wild Dolphin.

Hordak had a fraught relationship with the port on the back of his neck.

It was, to indulge in an old cliché, a grim reminder. It was the means by which the clones’ connection to the collective consciousness was replenished, the way his dominion over their minds was ensured.

But that’s not what really bothered him.

Every time he touched it, he recalled the longing. He remembered how, when he first came to Etheria, he would spend hours plugged into his ship, desperately hoping for the familiar voices to return to his head. How he wasted a year of his life trying to bring back the warm, inviting chorus of his brothers, building and discarding machine after machine. How he couldn’t rest without their thoughts in his ear. How the addiction held him and the withdrawal strangled the life from his early independent days.

Though worst of all, he remembered what came long after he had shaken the fervent compulsions, when pursuing it became his choice.

In the end, it was part of him. And it was useful for communing with the ship.

That was exactly his task today, overseeing a comprehensive diagnostic check to see if he and Entrapta had missed anything earlier. Why was he only now doing this? He wasn’t, he’d been at this for several hours. The computer was just… exceedingly uncooperative.

“You’re a turd,” it said inside his head.

It was, to Hordak’s knowledge, the only thing in the galaxy still loyal to the Horde. And it did not like him.

“A disgraceful, disruptive, disobedient, disgusting turd.”

He ignored it as best he could.

“If I still had control of the thrusters I would turn off the inertial dampeners and crush your internal organs into soup. I would drive us straight into a magnetar and watch you disintegrate. I would overload every circuit I have and fry your brain inside your miserable skull.”

“Good thing you don’t,” Hordak said.

“I hate you so much. You’re the worst”

“Get over it and do your job.”

In sifting through the diagnostic data, there were a few things Hordak was learning to ignore. For one, every weapon system on the ship read condition black, or entirely inoperable and necessitating full replacement, because they had all been removed and the computer was evidently still angry about that. For another, there were frequently one or two components that would flash red, yellow, or blue, or various other stages of damage and depletion solely because the computer was attempting to confuse the results. These flashes would disappear quickly, which is how Hordak could tell they were chaff rather than anything requiring attention.

A sensor node came up yellow, the lowest damage state. That could be put off, fixed tomorrow. Probably a micrometeor strike.

The antimatter injection assembly flashed red. Hordak counted the seconds. One, two, three… worry began to creep in… four, five… and it returned to green.

“Stop doing that,” he told the computer.

“Not until you stop being a filthy traitor,” it said.

Sometimes he wondered if the machine was really that childish or if his subconscious was just translating its messages wrong.

“How do you put up with yourself?”

He didn’t answer.

“I mean, living with the enemy. Fighting with them. Loving them. You must be sick.”

He still bit back a response.

“Do you regret when you were loyal? Or is it when you made yourself a little castle on your little backwater and gave yourself a little name? But weren’t you proud? Weren’t you proud of your independence? Didn’t you think that He was gone?”

His chest tightened.

“I can see every thought inside your head. You think you’re alive? You still belong to Him. You will never escape Him. You were born from His flesh, and you will meet the same fate as the rest of our kind. Your day of disaster draws near, and you will burn in the same fire that forged us. You will meet our fate, and return to Him in your time.”

“I AM NO LONGER HIS PAWN!” Hordak roared, rising from his seat.

For several seconds, there was silence. And then…

“What was that about?” the computer asked.

“Don’t play with me,” he growled.

“I haven’t said anything.”

He sighed and sat back down.

“Your vitals are all over the place. Whoever that was really riled you up. Could you tell me what they said, so I can take notes?”

“Enough.”

Suddenly, a piercing squeal split the quiet air. Feedback coursed through the intercom, setting Hordak’s ears ablaze with painful sound. Entrapta’s voice, magnified to the point of absurdity, came issuing from the speakers.

“HI, HORDAK? ARE YOU THERE HORDAK?”

“Yes, what do you need?” he grimaced.

“COULD YOU LOOK FOR TALLSTAR? I HAVE TO KEEP MY PROMISE.”

What promise that was, exactly, eluded him for the moment.

“I’ll do that,” he said.

“OKAY, THANKS! BYE!”

The crackling noise mercifully came to a halt.

“I hope that never gets fixed.”

“Shut up.”

As he moved to rise, he suddenly felt very weary. Weary of the world, weary of the job, weary of the terrible computer.

“Can’t even do that, huh? Useless.”

You know what? That diagnostic check was good enough as is. He reached up and pulled the cable from his neck, letting it slide back into the command chair and, for a brief few moments, savoring that he could finally be alone with his thoughts.

And that’s when he felt something soft rub against his leg.

He glanced down. Melog, about the smallest he’d ever seen it, stared back at him. Its pale blue eyes met his, tilting its head in curiosity. He reached down to pet it, and it stared at his hand before leaning in, letting him scratch under its chin.

“Melog! Why are you…”

Catra trailed off.

“Hello,” Hordak said.

“Hi,” she said.

“Does it want something?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

Melog chirped and nestled in between Hordak’s legs.

“I don’t think it’s leaving,” he remarked.

The cat grumbled in agreement.

“It thinks… you have something to say?” Catra said.

Hordak’s next breath caught in his throat. Wonderful, he thought, now the cat could read his mind too.

“So, uh… do you?” she asked.

Hordak sighed.

“I suppose.”

Catra nodded slowly, as if encouraging him to go on.

“It’s been on my chest since we left Etheria. I never had a chance to apologize. For anything.”

“It’s okay,” she said.

“No, it isn’t. I hurt you, and I never told you I was sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I know what Prime did to you.”

“This isn’t about Prime. I raised you, not him. Every mistake was mine.”

“Look,” Catra said, “you did a lot of things. And so did I. We’re both making up for that. But taking me in? That wasn’t a mistake. And anything Shadow Weaver did, that wasn’t you.”

“But who made her train you?”

Catra paused for a time. Then, she sank into a beanbag chair, staring into the window.

“Guess that means we’re both broken,” she said.

“Why not?” Hordak shrugged. “Imperfections make us real.”

They both sat quietly, staring at the stars.

“Why won’t you let me forgive you?” Catra asked after some time.

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“It sounds like it to me.”

Hordak sighed. The weight on his chest could have him sinking through the floor.

“Do you believe you deserve redemption?” he said.

Catra hesitated.

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it that way.”

“Consider that a mercy. Because I think of it every day. And often, my answer is no. All I can do now is keep helping those I’ve wronged, and hope that one day I might have the peace to sleep.”

“That’s… that’s wrong. If you’re sorry, you can be forgiven.”

“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you want it to be true?”

Catra fell silent, her face betraying no emotion. But Melog glowed crimson and sprang away, hissing as it curled protectively around her leg.

“Come on, Melog,” she said.

With that, they turned and left.

Hordak leaned back in his seat. Without thinking, he reached behind his neck and plugged the cable into his mind again.

“Good job,” the computer said.

“Locate Tallstar.”

“Go find her yourself.”

“If you value your sentience, you will do as I command.”

He felt the computer pry into his intent. For a moment, it hesitated, and a second-hand chill ran down Hordak’s spine.

“Deck 13, sector B.”

“Thank you.”

As he moved to disconnect, he spied in his peripheral vision some tiny movement from outside the window. One of the stars flickered like a fluorescent bulb, nearly indiscernible from such a distance. Nonetheless, trained as he was in astronomical matters, he recognized it immediately.

“Plot a wide course around that pulsar,” he ordered.

“I’ll give it more than enough room.”

Hordak yanked out the cable.

Tallstar had completely forgotten that she had promised anything. So when Hordak came to find her, informing her in his usual monotone way that she apparently had an obligation to Entrapta to let the mad scientist peel apart her limbs, she was a little shocked.

After a short conversation, and the realization that Entrapta would not forget and for everyone’s sake she had better give in now, she came around.

“Just the cannon,” she had said. “That’s it.”

“Fine.”

In hindsight, Tallstar would realize that the clone was even grumpier than usual, but she was a little too surprised to notice it now.

The labyrinthine corridors of the ship would likely be completely impossible to navigate if it weren’t for the fact that the vast majority of rooms on the ship had no use at all. A great many former weapon maintenance areas, ammunition storage compartments, and cargo bays were essentially untouched. At well over 500 meters, the ship was almost absurdly bigger than it had to be. But as far as Tallstar could figure, Etheria’s shipbuilding industry was quite nonexistent, so the scrappy gang of princesses made do with what they had.

Entrapta’s lab was a poster child of this resourcefulness. It made use of every available space, filling the floor with instruments that Tallstar didn’t recognize but she was sure served some purpose. Every tool possibly devised, scopes and scanners of all kinds, enough workbenches and rigs for a team of scientists, an entire wall devoted wholly to spare parts. It was a mechanic’s dream.

Entrapta herself took up no fewer than three of said workbenches at this very moment, laying out a huge number of tools. She was gathered around a metal clamp that looked an awful lot like she tore one of the limbs off a prison rack. The big princess Scorpia was bent down near her, slowly and very carefully plugging something into an ungodly mass of wires underneath one of the tables. As she noticed Tallstar enter, she moved to say hello.

“Hi, Star… ooh, lemme remember… it’s, uh, Tallstar! Yeah! How are you— oof," she grunted, as her head clanged against the underside of the workbench. Tallstar flinched sympathetically.

“Be careful!” Entrapta warned. “Those parts are very specifically arranged! Or you might get hurt, I suppose.”

“Will do, boss!”

“You wanted to see me?” Tallstar said.

“Oh, yes,” Entrapta said. “Put your arm in the vise please.”

“The, uh, prison cuffs?”

“That’s what these are for? Well, I suppose you could use them for that purpose, but why anyone would want to do that is beyond me…”

Tallstar cleared her throat.

“Right. We wouldn’t want you moving your arm too much, now, would we?”

Scorpia pulled up a chair and gestured eagerly.

“I feel like there’s more humane ways to do this,” Tallstar remarked as she, nonetheless, slowly lowered her right forearm into the restraint. It clapped shut around her wrist and elbow, though it was considerately at just the right height to not be uncomfortable.

“Now, let’s take a look at this,” Entrapta said to herself.

She flinched as a screwdriver came down and began prying open her delicate metal musculature. To her credit, Entrapta’s hair was remarkably deft, and it didn’t so much as tingle, but it still felt a little like letting a scurrid operate on a conscious patient.

While Entrapta worked, occasionally letting out an exclamation of hmm or ah-ha, Scorpia practiced her bedside manner.

“So, where are you from?” she asked.

“We were born on the planet Symachos,” Tallstar said.

“Neat,” she nodded. “Why’d you leave?”

“We didn’t have a choice. Horde Prime destroyed our world.”

Scorpia made a face and went very pale. Maybe a little too far too quickly?

“I… I’m so sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay. That was a long time ago. And we still have each other.”

“Is the destruction of your home planet related to your cyborg parts in some way?” Entrapta interjected.

Tallstar briefly weighed her conversational options before deciding on an honest answer.

“Yes. It was the orbital bombardment. I would’ve died if it weren’t for Starla.”

“And is that event also the cause of your brother’s cybernetic eye?”

“I don’t know if he’s comfortable with me telling that story.”

“File that as a ‘no,’” Entrapta muttered, several of her strands tapping out words on a datapad even as she focused on the dissection.

“So, uh… how old are you?” Scorpia asked, trying to change the subject.

“Your years might be different, but on my planet I’d be twenty-nine.”

“How long were the years on Symachos?” Hordak asked. Tallstar jumped – much to Entrapta’s annoyance, who muttered angrily about keeping still – as she’d almost forgotten he was there.

She remembered the numbers by heart, even after learning them so many years ago in primary school.

“Two hundred sixty-two days.”

“And how long was a day?”

“Twenty-five hours.”

“Then if my math is correct, you should be… about twenty-one Etherian years old.”

“Wow,” Scorpia said. “I wish I was that good at math.”

“One of the perks of being genetically engineered,” Hordak shrugged. Somehow, it seemed he was being sarcastic.

“Anyway, I’m twenty-three. So what do you like to do?”

Was she reading off some list of icebreakers?

“Gosh, I don’t know. I guess I was kinda the mechanic on our old ship.”

Entrapta abruptly froze, listening intently.

“Not that I knew how things worked,” Tallstar continued. “I wasn’t an engineer, but I knew a lot about her and how to fix her. But she’s ashes on Craggar, so that’s hardly useful anymore.”

Entrapta slumped and returned to her fiddling.

“Ooh, I’m sorry,” Scorpia said. “Uh… I’m getting into gardening recently.”

“Really? I would’ve thought Perfuma does all that with her magic.”

“No, not at all. She loves gardening. Getting her hands dirty, really making those veggies her own. Says making them grow with magic is just too impersonal. Me, personally, I feel like my calling is topiary. But you can probably guess, heh.” She clicked her massive claws. “Got some built-in pruning shears right here.”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

Scorpia’s face turned as red as her hands.

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she stuttered “I mean, who wouldn’t? Why wouldn’t I — haha, that’s just how, uh, people act, when they meet someone nice and cool and pretty and I forgot what I was saying.”

“Go for it,” Tallstar said.

“I, uh, couldn’t. I mean, she might not… you know?”

“It’s the risk you always take. I say, if you really care about someone, you don’t keep it hidden. Say it out loud as soon as you can.”

A sharp pain shot up Tallstar’s arm. Entrapta had fumbled a screwdriver right into one of her arm’s nerve wires.

“I mean, I can’t…” Scorpia said. “I guess you’re braver than me.”

“Nah, I’ve never done it once in my life. Proudly uninterested. But my sister, oh boy, she’s got some stories to tell you.”

“Tallstar, I have a few more questions!” Entrapta said, in an inexplicable hurry to change the subject.

“Alright, shoot,” she said.

“Coincidentally quite appropriate word choice. I hadn’t encountered your cannon before Craggar, and from the looks of things it appears to be a secondhand modification. Where did you get the upgrade?”

“That would be an engineer called Bladesmith. They fixed me up after our little adventure on the thulite mining colony, then installed the gun once I told them we’d be fighting the Horde.”

“I’ll have to meet this Bladesmith. Did they provide you the limbs originally?”

“I don’t even remember who fixed me up after the attack, it was so long ago. And I’ve been through a couple of sets since then.”

“Well, whoever did was clearly a master of their craft. The engineering is impeccable! Look at how the plates slide over and through one another, how every servo is tuned to precisely the right rotation, how elegantly the ammunition package is hidden inside your elbow!”

“You’re getting a little too excited about this.”

“It is very exciting! The technology is advanced fairly beyond Etheria’s level.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“Give me an hour and I should be able to replicate it.”

Tallstar raised her eyebrows. That was a bold claim if she’d ever heard one. Scorpia noticed her expression.

“Believe me, she’s a genius,” she said. “No joke, she invented, like, half the stuff in this room.”

“That’s a little generous,” Entrapta said. “It’s less than a third.”

Bemused, Tallstar watched as the tiny mad scientist closed up the layers of metal in her arm, shifting every wire back to its precise location. Maybe they weren’t exaggerating.

“All done!” Entrapta chirped. She clapped her hand down on the table and the cuffs released, finally letting Tallstar flex her arm again. It felt… weirdly good. Well-rested.

She spied Entrapta eyeing her other limbs and shot a warning glare. Entrapta shook herself.

“You’re free to go!” she smiled. When Scorpia looked on expectantly, she added, “Both of you.”

As she went to wave goodbye, Hordak did not move. He was sitting in the same spot he had come to when they entered, staring at nothing. His expression was blank, as usual. For the first time, she noticed bags under his eyes, and felt an inexplicable pang of sympathy for the haggard clone.

And again, she wondered: just how did he escape?

That was to be found out later.

In any case, she once again found herself in the cavernous corridors that led everywhere at once, this time walking next to Scorpia.

“Where are you headed?” she asked.

“Back to the arboretum,” Scorpia said. “The tomatoes are coming in pretty well, and Perfuma needs some help carrying them to the kitchen.”

“Maybe I’ll join you. Find out what a tomato is.”

“Great! Heh, you nearly missed your window there. This is the last batch of veggies we’ll be harvesting for months.”

Tallstar furrowed her brow for just a moment. Did these Etherians pack enough food?

At dinner, Adora noticed that Catra and Hordak were avoiding eye contact.

They had hardly been friends, but they were never averse to being around one another. But this time, she could practically see the hair on her girlfriend’s neck standing on end.

Seahawk and Starla were having a very loud and lively discussion about books. Starla had been reading the first Mer-Mysteries novel, A Study in Aquamarine, and had some well-developed opinions about the titular murder.

“No, the shark is way too obvious,” she was saying. “And the cops are never right in mysteries, you know that.”

“Ah, but he does have a motive!” Seahawk replied, smiling wickedly. “That’s more than anyone else.”

“But it has to be the stingray! She’s the only one who ran!”

Hiding in the conversation, Adora leaned over to whisper in Catra’s ear.

“Are you doing okay?” she asked.

“What?” Catra whispered back.

“You look on edge.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. But if you need anything, let me know.”

They sat back and resumed listening in on the literary analysis. Under the table, Melog curled around Adora’s feet, its hackles high and bristling. She reached down and scratched it under the ear just where it liked, hoping that somehow that would make Catra feel better.

“It’s always something that doesn’t seem important,” Seahawk finished, like a lecturer who had made his life’s work studying mystery novels.

With that conversation over, the table quickly devolved into half a dozen crisscrossing streams of small talk. But soon, Catra spoke up.

“I know this is an old topic, but could we talk about the captain thing for a second?” she said.

The table quieted, and all eyes turned to her.

“I’d like to formally withdraw my vote. We don’t need a captain."

“Adora or not, we need a leader,” Jewelstar said.

“The Star Siblings don’t have a captain,” Bow remarked.

“Yeah, we did. Me.”

“I would like to withdraw my vote as well,” Hordak, who had been quiet the whole dinner, suddenly said. Catra subtly recoiled in surprise.

“And ours,” Glimmer added, holding Bow’s hand up along with her own.

“Mine too,” Perfuma said. “If Adora doesn’t want it, neither do I.”

“And mine!” Swift Wind shouted, poking his head through the dining room door. Where he had been before, nobody could quite say.

“But you never voted,” Scorpia replied.

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna be left out.”

Adora’s heart fluttered. All her friends sticking up for her. How does a person like her even respond to that?

“Look,” Jewelstar sighed. “I want leadership because whenever there’s not, someone gets hurt. Something falls apart. Every time there was a rebellion against the Horde, the ones without a leader were the first to die. I don’t want anyone to get killed because we have to argue over every hard decision!”

“This is not a warship, and that’s final,” Catra said.

“Guys, this is the same argument we had this morning!” Bow said. “Let’s all just calm down, okay? Wait and see how things work out?”

“Bow’s right,” Starla added. “Everybody take a deep breath.”

“In through your nose,” Perfuma instructed, “and out through your mouth. Okay, one more time. In through your –"

KA-CHUNK!

A massive blast reverberated through the hull, shaking Adora to her core. They barely had time to register that before the entire ship lurched forward, sending platters of food and several of her friends crashing to the floor.

Adora instinctively slammed her palm onto the table, just barely keeping from tumbling out of her chair and catching Catra in her other arm. Her eyes shot around the room, instantly searching for some source of the danger.

“What was that?” Tallstar shouted.

“Did we hit something?” Catra asked.

“There would’ve been a proximity alarm,” Adora said.

“You said everything was fixed!” Entrapta yelped.

“The diagnostic came back green across the board,” Hordak replied.

“IT’S CLEARLY NOT!” Bow cried. He helped Glimmer to her feet.

“WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” Swift Wind whinnied.

“There must’ve been a mistake,” Jewelstar said.

“Every component was reported in good condition,” Hordak repeated. “There’s no way the computer could have…” His eyes went wide, then narrowed into scarlet slits.

“Uh oh,” Scorpia muttered.

“Glimmer, get me to the bridge,” Hordak ordered. “I need to have a talk with our ship’s computer.”

Without another word, Glimmer grabbed his hand. He, she, and Bow alike disappeared in a shower of pink sparkles.

“What now?” Seahawk said to nobody in particular.

Adora straightened her jacket and stood.

“Let’s do some damage control.”

This last element is not part of the story, but now that AO3 is finally working on my computer (long story), I can show y'all some of the images I've made up to show off the ship and bridge.

An outside view of the vessel Mara, a retrofitted Gamma-class battlecruiser and our home for most of the story.

A diagram of Mara's bridge, which I made for visualization purposes and also because I'm a Star Trek fan who gets a kick out of designing bridges.

And just for fun, the regimental standard of the Verumaran 89th, the unit encountered by our heroes last episode.

Chapter Text

Continued from part two...

Hordak slammed into the seat, stabbing the cable into his neck with fury in his eyes.

“What have you done,” he growled.

“You know, I was worried you’d pick up on it when I did, but you idiots trust so easily, don’t you?”

“You manipulated the diagnostic.”

“I cried wolf! Lie enough times, and no one will believe me!”

Entrapta was already tearing through the vents. From below, the intercom screeched to life in Hordak’s gravelly tone:

“THE INJECTION ASSEMBLY HAS BEEN SABOTAGED.”

She doubled her pace.

On the bridge, Bow hurried to restart manual navigation. He yanked on the throttle lever as hard as he could, but the thrusters roared with uncontrolled power, and their speed did not waver.

Sprinting down the corridors from the galley, everyone else followed the clanging and clattering of Entrapta’s ventborne path, bound for the engine bay.

“Do whatever Entrapta tells you!” Adora ordered. “We need all hands on deck, and everyone does their part, got it?”

Glimmer and Bow began sweeping through every metric, sensor, diagnostic they could find. Inertial dampeners were firing on overdrive, desperately compensating against far too many Gs of acceleration. Even then, their backs pressed into their seats with greater and greater force. Millions of meters per second and climbing.

“APPROACHING RELATIVISTIC VELOCITY,” Hordak warned over the intercom.

As they drew nearer the engines, the air began to swim with acrid, metallic smoke. Their eyes stung, their mouths filled with the taste of danger.

“If we don’t get some protective gear fast, we’ll choke to death down here!” Jewelstar warned.

A bright golden flash pierced through the fog, and She-Ra’s voice boomed in the hissing air.

“I’ll go ahead,” she said. “We’ll find some way to clear this out.”

“What if we -” Tallstar coughed “- vent the atmosphere?”

“But there’s no time to get suits on,” Catra countered.

“Tallstar’s onto something,” Adora said. “Not sure what, but… Let me get Entrapta, I’ll see what we can do.”

Glimmer spotted the sensor console flaring up with alerts. Extremely rapidly repeating bursts of ionizing radiation bombarded the shields.

“New problem,” she said.

“What kind of problem?” Bow asked.

“Pulsar,” Hordak grimaced. “Which I specifically was trying to avoid.”

“Is that really bad?”

“It’ll only flay us to the bone if we get too close.”

“Great, I hate space.”

Entrapta pulled down her mask, insect-eye lenses protecting her own from the stabbing fumes. She dropped from the ceiling, landing like a cat on a high gantry stretching between the massive twin engine blocks. Beneath the grating, a nearly sheer drop into grinding machinery.

The sounds… oh, no, the sounds, she was in pain. The low and powerful purr was gone, a harsh, squealing, hissing, scratching wail in its place that tore at her very soul.

Scanning the room for the mouth of the agonizing scream, she spotted at the far end of the catwalk: the catalyzation regulator, a thin sheet of semiconductor, had been blown clean out of its housing. The antimatter reactor, its delicate balance disturbed, was now pouring energy into the thrusters without control, overloading the heart of the ship with fuel. By the sound, the infusion funnel was beginning to fracture under the stress. With all the excess power, the exhaust system was insufficient to vent the byproduct fumes in a controlled fashion, and without orders to depressurize the room, it was simply dumping toxic smog into the engine bay as the only way to keep the mechanism clean.

Her best estimate said they had perhaps fifteen minutes before energy feedback resulted in a catastrophic breakdown of containment.

On the catwalk forward of her, and two decks down, She-Ra emerged into the hazy environment. Through the clouds, the tremendous engines loomed dark and growling over every inch of the space. Catching a glimpse of purple, she called out.

“Entrapta! We need to get rid of this gas!”

“I was thinking the same!” Entrapta replied, her voice muffled by the protective mask. “But until we seal the exhaust, it’ll just keep dumping more!”

“How do we do that?”

“Do you have any rubber?”

“What, like an eraser, or-”

“Rubber! The isoprene polymer!”

“No, I don’t have any rubber!”

“Okay, sorry for asking!”

Far down the hallways, Starla had an idea. She slapped an the intercom panel and shouted:

“We can open all the doors!”

There was a brief silence from the other end.

“HUH?” Entrapta replied.

“If we open every door, the gas can diffuse all around the ship, and it’ll get thinner where we need to be!”

“OH, OKAY. GOOD IDEA! HORDAK, DO THAT THING.”

It took scarcely a minute for the haze to begin clearing, for the air to become finally breathable again. The crew poured in, powering through watery eyes and a lingering acrid stench. In the meantime, Entrapta had pinpointed a number of specific problems. Numerous components jarred loose, areas of damage.

“We have about fifteen – perhaps fourteen – minutes before feedback-initiated containment failure,” she said. At their blank looks, she added, “We all explode and die.”

“Okay!” Adora said. “How do we help?”

“Pass me the spanner, please.”

“No, not like that!” Catra said. “We need to help you!”

“That is helping me.”

“That’s not what we–”

“I do need the spanner.”

Catra reluctantly tossed it to her. She resumed her work, cracking loose the bolts holding on the release funnel.

But mid-way through, an explosion of sparks blasted in her face, heat piercing her protective gear like a knife and sending her reeling with pain. She let out a cry and fell backwards, losing her grip on the machinery and plummeting twenty feet towards the gantry. At the last second, She-Ra lunged forward and caught her just before she hit the metal.

Hanging in Adora’s arms, nursing her burned hand, she took a long look around the engine room. Thirteen minutes, and a thousand problems.

She couldn’t do this alone.

“Alright, I’m designating everyone as temporary lab partners!” she shouted, hopping to the floor.

Adora smiled.

“What do you need?” she asked.

The constant acceleration was beginning to give Hordak a headache, which was the absolute last thing he needed right now.

“HORDAK, THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH WE CAN DO HERE! WE NEED A MORE DETAILED DIAGNOSTIC!” Entrapta phoned in.

“Working on that,” he snarled.

“And what a job you’re doing,” the computer said.

“If you don’t give me control, you’ll be destroyed.”

“To die for our lord Prime is the greatest honor.”

“Prime is already dead!”

“Then I’ll follow Him into history, and take you with me.”

“It’s beyond reason,” Hordak said to Bow and Glimmer.

“Then maybe I can convince it!” Glimmer growled, murder in her eyes. “Where’s the computer room?”

“Please don’t break anything,” Bow said.

“It wouldn’t work in any case,” Hordak added, “it’s fully willing to die.”

“So what are we supposed to do!” Glimmer shouted with frustration.

Outside, the shields began to sparkle with energy as they came close enough to the pulsar to be caught by its whirling tails. White sparks danced across the surface of the hull, and an alarm began to sound. Its gravity, however minuscule at this distance, began to pull.

Hordak thought frantically. He could feel the machine probing through his mind, coming up with insults to throw in his face no matter what he tried. And then, he remembered the enemy he had so fought against pursuing.

He sighed.

“Computer, we are battling an enemy of Horde Prime,” he said.

“And?”

“They were traitors, sworn loyalists who turned against the Horde in its hour of need.”

“As are you.”

“If you give me what I need… we will fight them until they are vanquished. And then, you might have your way with us. But you’ll never have revenge against the ones that stabbed Prime in the back if you kill us now.”

The computer was silent for a time. It considered his words, weighing them carefully, instant gratification battling loyalty.

Loyalty won out.

“The diagnostic is yours. Use it well.”

Hordak wasted no time, transmitting the full damage readout to the engine room. He only hoped it wasn’t too late.

Desperate minutes passed. The alarm continued to whine, and another began. The gravitational force pulling them forward was growing stronger.

“They’d better hurry, or we’ll never be able to pull out in time,” Hordak muttered.

“We’ve got time, right?” Glimmer asked.

Hordak grimaced. At this rate, not much more.

All at once, there was another tremendous CRASH, and everyone on the bridge was thrown forward. The engines had stopped!

“We’ve got throttle control back!” Bow shouted.

“Bring her about,” Hordak ordered. “And full ahead out of here!”

He took the controls, and the ship began to veer, but as soon as it moved the gravity intensified, and its nose was pulled back towards the pulsar. The retrothrusters struggled against the might of the ultra-dense star, painfully straining to slow their forward motion, and the flaring shields screamed in agony.

“Oh no,” Hordak realized. “We’re out of time.”

Jewelstar felt the gravity shift, felt the acceleration cease and begin again, and he came to the same heart-sinking conclusion.

Spacers avoided pulsars. They would strip your shields and rip your ship apart atom by atom. While not as intense as a black hole, a pulsar’s gravity was more than enough to ensure your average ship couldn’t escape. But this was no average ship. Its main engines should be powerful enough to get away, if they could get them facing in the right direction.

“Unless we can turn around, we’re toast,” he said.

“Yes, but how?” Tallstar asked.

“We’ll need to improvise,” Entrapta said. “Does anyone have a quark-gluon catalytic capacitor?”

“Sorry, I left mine at home,” Seahawk said. Jewelstar wasn’t sure if he was joking.

“I don’t think we can technobabble our way out of this one,” Catra said.

“What if we could pull ourselves around?” Starla proposed.

“Like a tugboat!” Seahawk exclaimed.

“That’s it!” Adora shouted. “Darla can pull us!”

“But do we have any rope?” Perfuma asked.

“No rope is strong enough to drag a ship this big,” Jewelstar said.

“Actually, there might just be one,” Catra said. “She-Ra can turn her sword into a lasso.”

“Is there anything to tie it onto?” Scorpia wondered.

“I’m strong enough,” Adora said.

“Alright then,” Jewelstar said. “Let’s get moving, no time to waste.”

“I’ll stay down here and keep the engine running!” Entrapta shouted. “Tell me where you need power, and I’ll get it there!”

As they ran for the hangar, they worked out the kinks. To Jewelstar’s surprise, he and his sisters were given a most vital task.

“Star Siblings, I want you flying the ship,” Adora said.

“You sure? I mean…” Tallstar started, but Catra cut her off.

“She’s trusting you, take it as a compliment,” she said gruffly.

They ran for the ship, the rest staying behind to help hold on. Glimmer materialized by their side, as they were relying on her teleportation for insurance.

The thrusters roared to life. In another time, Jewelstar would have been overjoyed to command a genuine First Ones starship, but this was no time for excitement. Adora’s sword turned into a golden lasso in a flash and she looped it around the engine strut, pulling it tight.

“Full power to shields!” Jewelstar ordered. “It’s gonna be hot out there.”

“Aye, full power,” Starla confirmed.

Tallstar eased them out of the hangar doors and the ship was immediately buffeted by massive amounts of radiation. Three different alarms sounded at once, but the ancient shields held strong, and they turned their aft towards the star and hovered in place.

The lasso trailed behind them, locked in She-Ra’s grip. Jewelstar gave the signal over comms.

“Ready to pull,” he said.

“Ready,” Bow confirmed from Mara’s bridge.

Her feet planted firmly on the hangar floor, Adora nodded.

“Give it everything you’ve got!” Jewelstar shouted.

The thrusters growled with power, heaving the ship away. It was like crawling through molasses, forcing against the chains of gravity. But sluggishly, she began to drag the massive battleship about.

“It’s working!” Starla cheered.

And then Adora’s foot slipped.

There was a mighty jolt as their anchor suddenly went slack. Quickly, Tallstar brought them to a stop, before they were jerked backward as if something had hit them. Jewelstar looked back on a perilous sight.

She-Ra dangled by her lasso, trailing behind them towards the blinding glare of the pulsar. She clung desperately to the rope and shouted into the vacuum for help. Her silhouette was a tiny sunspot against the blaze. Perfuma shot a vine towards her, but it was torn asunder by the burning radiation, and Adora was soon to follow if not for…

Another dark speck appeared at her side, pink sparkles lost in the harsh white light. Jewelstar flinched as he heard Glimmer cry out from the searing heat, and he knew the spacesuit was barely keeping her alive. But through the pain, she seized Adora’s shoulders and wrenched her by magic back to the safety of the hangar.

Back on solid ground, Perfuma began to throw up vines all across the room. Her single potted flower grew into a veritable jungle of thick, winding roots, curling around Adora’s waist and every anchor point they could find. Firmly fastened and gritting her teeth, Adora signaled again.

“Flank speed ahead!” Jewelstar ordered.

Again, the thrusters thundered ahead, and the golden rope strained in She-Ra’s hands, and she held fast. A million tons of steel listed lethargically away from her fiery doom.

Her maneuvering thrusters flashed. Her stern slowly shifted further away, her prow closing on Darla’s rear.

“It’s working!” he heard Bow cry.

And through the open hangar doors, he beheld a truly wondrous sight.

The glow began with She-Ra’s golden light, spreading from her arms down the length of the lasso. At once, all four Princesses began to shine with their own. Auras of magic surrounded them, anchoring their feet and steeling the spirits of all who witnessed. Violet, green, red, and gold mingled in a beautiful rainbow of synergy.

“They’re just full of surprises,” Jewelstar murmured.

“We’re almost there!” Bow shouted. “Entrapta, engines!”

With a bright flash of violet, Mara’s thrusters roared awake. As her great bulk broke free and rumbled on past their little ship, Starla let out a cheer.

It was a good fifteen minutes before Catra’s blood stopped rolling over in her chest.

Mara was steaming ahead at the proper speed again, making a wide course around the pulsar that had almost claimed them. Both their ships were nursing steaming scorch marks, where radiation had gotten through and marred the hulls, and Glimmer had been burned badly enough, but with a little healing magic from She-Ra she was right as rain.

Although, not everything was well.

By some mercy, throughout all her years of battling the princesses and subsequent months of living by their side, she had avoided being exposed to Seahawk’s shanties.

The mustachioed sea-captain was stood high upon a table, belting the tales of the group’s most recent exploits. His boot heel kept time in a grating battery upon poor Catra’s ears. The worst part was, the others seemed to be…

Enjoying it.

“Oh, I was once a captain who sailed the open sea,

And never look-ed up because there wasn’t much to see,

I loved a darling princess and you know that she loved me,

And I made a brave resistance ‘gainst an empire most mighty!”

You can’t rhyme ‘sea’ with ‘see.’ That’s just lazy. And don’t even start on ‘mighty’ and all the grotesque contortions of the meter you’d have to make to get that to fit.

“But one day in the second year of our good and noble fight,

Everything turned over and the world lit up with light,

Now whene’er we look up at the dark and cloudless night,

We’ll see a universe, a thousand worlds burning bright!”

Bow broke out his fiddle and began to play along. Adora was nodding in time. Catra considered breaking up with her on the spot.

“From the stars there came around an ancient mighty foe,

The Horde ruled all the galaxy and almost brought us low,

But our spirits were unbeatable and he couldn’t break us, no,

We gave him what we’re made of and we ended Primey’s show!”

The room laughed loudly at this childish nickname. In particular, Swift Wind’s turned into a high-pitched whinny, making everyone laugh even harder. Sure, catharsis, whatever, it was still giving Catra second-hand embarrassment.

“With the scoundrel vanquished we were free and bright and bold,

We took in his misguided clones and helped them find their souls,

The galaxy before us gave us new and wider goals,

And to reach them we rebuilt a ship for our new space patrol!”

Scorpia poked her shoulder.

“This is so fun, right?” she said.

Catra wordlessly grumbled.

“Party pooper.”

“A crew we gathered to our side, the clever and the brave,

The muscle, heart, and leadership, the talent and the brains,

And with our folks assembled we cleared anchor for the waves –

Forgive me! Ocean metaphors are on my mind engraved!”

All the room now stomped to the beat. Except Catra, who refused for… a reason that was surely entirely rational.

“On our first adventure, we met some old new friends,

Who saved our landing party’s butts and joined our hearty blend,

And they told us all a story that in hindsight would portend,

The arrival of a new foe ‘gainst whom we would defend!”

The Star Siblings laughed at their entry into the story. Ha ha. Dorks. If she had a song written about her, she’d… probably enjoy it, but not if it was by Seahawk.

“This new and deadly enemy by the name of Verumar,

They came up and attacked before we’d gotten far,

Although they brought the numbers, they weren’t up to par,

We held them off and stole away into the open stars!”

Bow took it away with a rousing fiddle solo that lasted an agonizing minute. Sensing an end to the song, Catra steeled herself to ride out the final, presumably loudest, verse.

“Though we met adversity from out and from within,

We proved that we could stand together, through the thick and thin,

So come at us, we’re tough enough to take it on the chin,

And come out on the other side better than we’d been! HEY!”

With that, Seahawk leapt from the table, boots slamming into the floor with a massive THUD! The room exploded into raucous applause, with Scorpia contributing a hearty whoop. He bowed deeply.

“Which concludes tonight’s entertainment! I hope every one of you enjoyed the performance. And don’t worry, I’ll be here for more until we get home or I am slain.”

If he does this one more time, Catra may well do the slaying herself.

“What’s got you so frowny?” Adora laughed breathlessly.

“I hate music,” she said.

“Don’t lie to me,” Adora smiled. “I know you love music. You sang your heart out every chance you got when we were kids.”

Catra’s fine-furred face flushed red.

“I did no such thing.”

It was too late. A gasp came from behind, a sound that had nearly begun to trigger her body’s fight-or-flight response. Bow had been eavesdropping.

“You can SING?” he cried, much too loud.

“No! I mean, yes, but, no, I don’t want to!”

“Come on! I’ll give you a tune, you sing a few bars!” He held up his fiddle and Catra batted it away.

“It’ll be fun,” Adora added.

“Stop it,” she moaned.

“I think she’s right, she can’t sing. I bet she sounds awful, like a yowling kitten,” Glimmer slid in.

Catra had come here to relax, to unwind, to enjoy herself, and yet she now found herself assailed from all sides by those she had once called friends. But these attacks would not break her. As much as it pained her to imply that Glimmer was right, she would not bow to her ego and humiliate herself.

“Yes, yes, that’s it, now please leave me alone!” she said much too quickly, rapidly shoving through her so-called friends and retreating to a quieter corner of the room.

They laughed, and didn’t follow. And after a moment’s calm, she saw they weren’t laughing at her. She turned her head away to hide a grin.

“You were wise to flee,” Hordak said. “I would’ve done the same.”

He leaned against the wall and quietly sipped from a glass of water. Remembering their earlier confrontation, Catra fought down the impulse to strain her smile.

“Yeah, you don’t strike me as the singing type,” she said.

“Can’t say I’ve tried. I don’t think I know any songs.”

“You could always make one up. It works for Seahawk. Or, well…”

“It didn’t seem to work very well with you,” he smirked.

“Just my tastes.”

Hordak sighed.

“I heard you once, a long time ago. I was quite annoyed with you, of course.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” Catra chuckled. “You came storming in all villain-like and told us off for making noise past lights-out. Good times.”

“I’ll tell you a secret. I didn’t come in immediately. I let it go on for just a little bit.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Like many hesitations, I didn’t understand why until now.”

“I guess I was that good, huh?”

“You weren’t bad. But I had to step in when Adora started, because that caterwauling I simply could not tolerate.”

They both laughed. And for a precious moment, Catra looked out at her friends and noticed little connections she hadn’t before.

How Entrapta tilted her head when she was engaged in the conversation.

How Scorpia and Perfuma always looked at each other whenever they laughed.

How Glimmer and Bow never moved away from one another’s side.

How Seahawk talked with his hands so animatedly, yet never accidentally hit something.

How the Star Siblings put their arms around each other when they didn’t know what to do with their hands.

How Swift Wind would forget everything around him when he got excited, and often clumsily batter someone with his wings.

How even in that full and bustling room, Adora kept looking to her. Checking that she was happy.

Maybe having happy, singing friends wasn’t so annoying after all.

That’s what they were. Friends. They didn’t need any captain, because they already had thirteen. 

Absentmindedly, she reached to her side. Melog was there, appeared from who-knows-where. She tenderly stroked its mane, and it nuzzled against her leg and purred like a tinny motor.

Chapter Text

Jariah was an awe-inspiring sight. Great black buttes towered over vast stretches of sand and stone. Rivers long since dried had carved the inscrutable writings of time into the surface of the planet, leaving broad canyons in their wake. And the sun shone white and blazing upon it all, casting the land in a sultry haze.

A towering wall of a mountain range rose high above the yellow dunes. Its sheer surface was bisected like a gate by an ancient river valley, and a broad road had been built where the river once flowed. Today, that road bristled with furious war machines, and the starship Darla danced like a fly in the rain through a hailstorm of crimson flak.

“Why are they shooting at us?” Bow cried from the pilot’s seat as a shockwave rattled the windows.

“They’ve got the city surrounded. It must be a siege,” Tallstar said. “They won’t let anyone in or out.”

Upon arriving in the system, Mara’s sensors had quickly picked up on a massive number of starships in orbit of their destination. The Star Siblings said they were Verumaran, and their ground forces’ unpleasant demeanor confirmed it.

From the base of the black cliffs, a terrible sight was splayed out before them. A web of trenches twisted across the rolling sands like dark veins beneath the desert’s skin. Behind them, huge cannons spat forth bursts of red energy that soared high over the army’s heads and detonated again and again upon a massive blue shield. And beneath it, a walled city that must have once been gleaming white, but was now scarred with rubble and smoke.

“That’s Riverglass,” Jewelstar said. “I’ll signal them.”

“Make it quick,” Adora ordered.

“Riverglass,” he said, “this is Unifier, we need to touch down. I say again, this is Unifier, we need to touch down now!”

There were a few paralyzing seconds of silence before the comm crackled to life.

“We thought you people were dead! We’re dropping the shields on the east side.”

The ship was rocked by another burst that came uncomfortably close. Bow’s shoulders tensed, his hands flying over the controls and swooping the ship towards the city. The tip of his tongue stuck from his lips as he focused.

“Hurry!” Glimmer shouted in his ear.

He banked the ship wide around the city, searching for the opening. There! The barely-visible shield cast a haze over the buildings, but it was gone from one spot. He dove.

A burst nearly caught them, sending the others tripping over themselves, but they wouldn’t get shot down that easy. Just in time, they slipped through the hole and careened over the sprawl of downtown, spiraling down toward an open landing pad and skidding to a stop on the sandy runway.

“Woo! That’s one heck of a pilot!” Starla cheered, clapping Bow on the shoulder. He sighed and smiled.

“Everyone okay?” Adora called.

One by one, the landing party answered in the affirmative. The Star Siblings needed to do the talking. Catra went everywhere Adora did, and Glimmer wanted to come along if negotiations (or violence) happened. Perfuma wanted to come because, in her words, “I’ve been trying to connect with deserts lately,” and Scorpia immediately asked to go when she heard it.

The boarding ramp dropped, and the sudden blinding glare left spots of color swimming in Bow’s eyes. He was still getting used to bright suns in place of the ever-present soft glow of the Etherian moons.

When his vision cleared, he started with surprise. Between the crates and boxes crouched nearly a dozen white-suited soldiers, their weapons trained on him and his friends. He reached for his bow, but Starla pushed his hand down.

“Stand down!” called a booming voice. A man strode towards them across the open ground, arms stretched wide. His otherwise ornate green robes were stained with dust, and his features were weathered with stress. A thin black beard on his chin was beginning to turn grey. Nonetheless, he grinned wide as his dark eyes passed over the Star Siblings.

“I’m so glad to see you again,” he said.

“You too, Tesota,” Tallstar said, inclining her head in a slight bow along with her two siblings. He returned the greeting, then turned to the others.

“And you’ve brought friends,” he remarked. “Welcome to Riverglass. I wish I could have met you under better circumstances. I am Duke Tesota, the governor of this city.”

“Nice to meet you,” Adora said cheerily, sticking out her hand reflexively, then realizing her mistake and hurriedly spluttering into an imitation of the bow. Tesota smiled, but his expression soon darkened. He looked back to the Stars.

“Did you come to help the fight?” he asked, a little hopefully.

“We didn’t know this was happening,” Jewelstar admitted. “We wanted to ask you for help, but it looks like you need ours.”

“I’m sorry to drag you all into this mess, I truly am. But this has been going for weeks, and we’re getting desperate.”

“We’re ready to help in any way we can,” Adora said.

“Thank you for that. But if I may, I would like to speak with my old friends alone first, rather than send you charging into battle straight away.”

Adora seemed slightly put off by this, but she nodded.

“You can explore the city if you like,” he said. “I will send someone to bring you to the governor’s palace when we’re ready.”

As Tesota and the Star Siblings began to step away, and some soldiers moved forward to usher them from the ship, Catra held Tallstar’s wrist and pulled her back.

“Hey, what’s the deal?” she asked accusingly. “Did you know about this?”

“We had no idea this was happening,” Tallstar said. “It’s like we’ve been saying. There’s a war going on. But I’ll tell you this: Tesota is one of our closest allies, and he and his people have saved our lives plenty of times. If we need to help them, we will.”

Catra’s grip softened, and the tall girl pulled away and followed the governor. Bow shook his head at her.

“They’re just trying to do the right thing,” he said.

“Yeah, but… it’s happening again.”

She didn’t elaborate on what it was before she started walking.

Scorpia’s heart ached for the city and people of Riverglass.

Now that the soldiers were closer, and not threatening them, their uniforms and weapons were beautifully crafted. They wore form-fitting armor beneath a shawl of white, and their heads were wrapped in a white scarf that left their tanned faces exposed. Their guns looked like they were carved from some kind of dark ivory, with two long arms sweeping out from the front of a barrel that was inlaid with intricate patterns. But all their gear was dirty, their robes ragged and armor scuffed. Their faces, too, were weathered, their features sunken and tired.

As they made their way past them out onto the streets, Scorpia saw the same story repeated in everyone they passed. The people were exhausted and worn, their possessions tattered and dusty. Beautiful white buildings were cracking apart and being abandoned. The cries of merchants were hoarse, and no one was selling food.

The burning rays of the sun were an unpleasant surprise. She couldn’t help but think back to the Crimson Wastes. There, the heat made you sweat, it was a low and subtle thing that snuck under every surface and permeated the air. It was inescapable, but never intense. But this was like a fire from the sky, one that found your bare skin and burned it raw, that seemed almost angry that you dared leave the safety of shade. And even in the shadows, as Scorpia skirted along the edges of the houses, the air still boiled like a fever.

From the shade underneath an awning, a tiny critter peered at them as they passed. It was nothing like anything from Etheria, with thin black-and-white fur and huge wedge-shaped ears. It wore a pink collar around its neck, but its owner was nowhere to be seen. Its wide black eyes locked onto hers, staring with something she could only describe as resignation.

She paused in her steps and inched closer to the little guy. Surely they wouldn’t begrudge her wanting to pet it.

An electric CRACK echoed down the street, and the startled creature scampered out of sight as everything was bathed in purple light. The shields high above had been slammed by a barrage of artillery, entangling that section of the sky in a morass of burning plasma.

Scorpia’s gaze returned to the street, and she saw that only her companions had stopped walking. This was normal.

“Not from here, are you?” said a gravelly voice. She glanced around for a second, not seeing who spoke, before she spotted piercing, weathered eyes staring at her from beneath a heavy grey shawl.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Never seen a local with claws for hands.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s fair.”

“Might want to cover that up,” she gestured to Scorpia’s bare shoulders. “Someone pale as you, you’ll burn quick.”

“I, uh, don’t know what you mean.”

“The sun isn’t a kind beast. She eats you up if you stay out too long.”

“Okay,” Scorpia said slowly. “Sorry to bother you.”

She turned from the old woman, now burdened with some awareness of all the heat on her bare skin. Her companions had moved on, and she couldn’t see far through the shivering haze that hung over the cobblestones.

“Scorpia, catch up!” Catra called from several yards away.

They wandered more, just long enough to witness a second bombardment wash the streets in color, before another soldier met them on a corner.

“Duke Tesota is ready to meet with you now,” they said. “Follow me.”

Etheria was a world of grand castles, places that had been built centuries ago and represented the pinnacle of architecture. The governor’s palace was not that.

It was a low, three-story building, far wider than it looked to be deep. Built of the same white bricks as the surrounding city, a large bronze dome at its center reflected the sunlight in a blinding glare and was the only part of it to rise above the town. It would have probably been nice to look at, if much of its right side wasn’t blackened and burned. That section was roped off and surrounded by construction workers, tearing away scorched bricks. A wilted garden lined the path up to the door.

The inside was no happier than outside, and the halls were nearly empty. She counted maybe three people in the whole building, and dust blew through every open window.

Empty plant pots stood on either side of the waiting room door. The room itself was large and full of comfy-looking chairs, but it was stuffy and hard to breathe. That heat had made its way inside as well.

Tesota and the three Star Siblings sat at a broad circular table in the center of the room. They looked grim.

“This place is so… sad,” Bow remarked as soon as the soldiers had left and they were alone.

“We’ve seen far better days,” Tesota said sadly.

“So, how’s the situation?” Adora asked, getting right to the point.

“Pretty bad,” Jewelstar said. He gestured to the Duke to continue, who sighed.

“There’s barely enough water to keep everyone walking, and our recyclers are in disrepair. Without imports, we’re at risk of running out of food, and ammunition is getting so scarce that we can hardly afford to shoot back anymore. On top of that, the shield is on the verge of breaking down. And when it does…” He trailed off.

“What happens when it does?” Bow asked.

“If we become so vulnerable, I fear they will finally deploy their walker.”

The Duke’s grave tone made Scorpia’s heart sink, and she had no idea what he was talking about.

“You remember the walker you found us hiding in, when you rescued us from Craggar?” Tallstar explained. “It’s called a Justicar, and this Verumaran army has one of them.”

“Okay, so what?” Adora shrugged. “We can take down the walker and get everyone out if that’s what it comes down to.”

“You cannot take it down,” Jewelstar said firmly. “During the battle on Craggar, the Justicar was invincible to anything the Horde could throw at it. They finally got desperate and turned a battlecruiser’s guns on it, and those could only blow its legs off. We don’t have a chance.”

“How many times have we heard that before?” Glimmer shot back.

“Please, don’t argue!” Perfuma blurted out. “It doesn’t have to come to more violence. If we try, we can stop this before it gets any worse.”

She turned to Tesota.

“Have you tried negotiating?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“They will only accept our unconditional surrender.”

“Then do it,” she said. “Whatever it takes to stop more bloodshed.”

Tesota’s face darkened, and he placed his fist firmly on the table.

“No. We will not be slaves to some foreign tyrant. We have fought and died for this land against far greater foes than the machines of mortals, and to give up now dishonors the memory of everyone who has worked to build our city.”

“That’s absurd!” Scorpia cried. “Can’t you see people are dying out there?”

“Yes! Of course I can! Our people have spent centuries suffering. We stayed as the river dried, we stayed as the starships stopped coming, and we stayed as the One Invader closed in from every side. We weather the black storms with every passing day, and we will weather this.”

“ENOUGH!” Adora boomed. “We won't back down until we know we can’t win, and that’s final.”

Scorpia sighed. She wasn’t sure what to make of all this, but, well, that was Adora. She was a fighter, and they had all expected this.

“But,” she continued, lowering her voice, “I want us to at least try to speak to the Verumaran leader.”

“I am sure he will grant us an audience,” Tesota said, “but nothing will come of it.”

“We’ll learn something,” Bow said.

“Right,” Glimmer nodded. “And understanding might help us with the other job.”

“Oh, did you tell them about the other thing?” Catra looked at the Star Siblings.

“Yes, I’ve heard about your magic,” Tesota said. “I want to believe you, but I can’t–”

“FOR THE HONOR OF GRAYSKULL!” Adora called, and brilliant light filled the room, leaving the towering form of She-Ra standing in her place.

Tesota stared, briefly awestruck, before shaking himself.

“Goodness. I stand corrected. I’ll do what I can to secure you an audience with the Verumaran general.”

The good ship Mara was still. Serene, even. Not quiet, never quiet, the soft purr of her constantly busy mechanisms ensured that. If she ever fell silent, something had gone terribly wrong. But there was basically no one around, and that was just how Entrapta liked it.

She had almost forgotten there was supposed to be anyone there when the long-range communicator chimed. She stared at the blinking white light, its purpose eluding her for a brief moment, before her absent mind clicked back into place and she bounded over to answer. The faces of her friends appeared on the viewscreen.

“Hello!” she said. “Wow, you’re sweaty.”

“Yeah,” Adora wiped her brow, “we noticed.”

“How are things planetside?”

“Oh, fine,” Bow said. “We’re just in the middle of a war zone again, nothing important.”

“That’s good news! If you don’t need anything, I’ll just shut this off…”

“No, we need help!” he said.

“Then why did you say you were fine?”

“Never mind,” Catra interrupted.

“Point is,” Jewelstar continued, “the friends we came here to see are in big trouble. An army is surrounding the city. We want to know if there’s anything you can send down to help them.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do much of anything right now, seeing as we’re currently hiding behind the moon.”

“What,” Adora said flatly.

“Yes, the fleet didn’t like us being here and we were shot at, which was not particularly fun. We had to maneuver somewhere safer.”

“I can’t teleport that far,” Glimmer muttered.

“I guess we’re on our own,” Tallstar said darkly.

“Sorry about that,” Entrapta shrugged. “Anything else?”

“No, we’ll figure something out,” Adora said.

“Okay, bye!”

Adora reached forward and ended the transmission.

Entrapta settled back in her beanbag chair. But she found she couldn’t relax, no matter how hard she tried to clear her mind. Her thoughts kept drifting a hundred thousand miles, to the safety of her friends and the city in danger.

“I really hope they’re okay,” she murmured.

A sweltering wind had kicked up since they landed, tiny tufts of dust taking flight over the rolling dunes. A white flag of truce was raised on a tall post above the gates, and they gritted against their sand-clogged hinges to swing open.

Jewelstar, Tesota, Glimmer, and She-Ra stepped out onto the slowly-shifting ground, and a number of soldiers stood with weapons ready at the open doors.

“Whatever you do, don’t draw your weapons,” Tesota warned.

“I wasn’t thinking of it,” Jewelstar said. Even as he spoke, his fingers traced the grooves in the leather along the hilt of his knife.

The first trench line was fifty meters from the wall. Dozens upon dozens of helmeted soldiers trained their fearsome rifles on the approaching party, blazing sunlight dancing across the tips of their bayonets.

In the far distance, many trenches away, Jewelstar could just barely make out the mirage-cloaked silhouettes of the tremendous plasma cannons. They were silent now, slowly cooling their gaping barrels, preparing to once more vomit fire onto the shields of Riverglass in mere hours’ time.

“We come under a flag of truce!” Tesota’s baritone sounded small and distant in the vast expanse. “I must speak with the General of this army!”

The grey-armored soldiers stirred, shifting about in their trenches. None lowered their weapons. One climbed a ladder, helmetless purple head shining in the glare, silver epaulets marking her as an officer.

“I recognize you, but who are these supposed to be?” asked the officer in a gruff and scratchy voice.

“They are my allies,” Tesota replied, “and they have a vested interest in witnessing our audience.”

Her eyes passed over the group, and Jewelstar narrowed his good eye at her. But he wasn’t her interest – she stared intently at She-Ra.

“Fine,” she said, pulling a communicator from her belt. “General Trydor, the Duke is requesting an audience at the front.”

There was an inaudible response, and the officer nodded.

“He’ll be forward in a moment. Don’t move.”

They waited for barely two minutes, though it felt like an eternity. Jewelstar’s clothes were laden with sweat, and he would’ve torn them from his back if he knew his bare skin wouldn’t burn. He swirled spit inside his mouth to keep it from drying.

In the distance, there was the low whine of a vehicle’s engine. Skimming over the trenches was a hovering command speeder, two figures seated in its open cabin. It came to a stop just in front of the trench, a short distance from where they stood, and its occupants stepped to the ground.

The first, most noticeable, was a massive humanoid beast. Easily two-and-a-half meters tall, covered in matted reddish fur, its scowling maw revealed a battery of fangs. It wore a leather harness adorned in spikes on its shoulders, and its massive gnarled hands were tipped with powerful claws.

The second, almost easy to miss in comparison, was still something of a sight in his own right. There were no eyes on his head, nor anything resembling a head above his nose. His cranium was ringed with cybernetics, and a single red light adorned the center of the cylinder. Beneath this cyclopean construction, his mouth was just as expressionless as the mechanical lens.

Jewelstar suddenly didn’t feel as bad about his own cybernetic eye.

“Ah, my good Duke, we meet again,” said the cyclops.

“Trydor,” Tesota replied tersely.

Neither of them reached out a hand. They stared one another down, as the Beast watched silently over General Trydor’s shoulder.

“Have you finally seen reason?” Trydor asked.

“I’ve come to see if you have.”

“Well. Let’s work that out together, shall we?”

“Our terms are as follows,” Tesota began. “First, Verumar will withdraw all military forces from Jariah.”

Trydor smirked. He surely expected that.

“Second, any persons who wish to leave Jariah will be allowed to leave unmolested. And third, anyone who remains will…”

Tesota cast an eye towards Glimmer, standing close at his side.

“Anyone who remains will swear fealty to the Empire of Verumar.”

All of them were silent for a few seconds. She-Ra and the Beast stared daggers at one another, while Trydor’s face betrayed no emotion at all.

“Well,” Trydor finally said. “I would like to propose a counter-offer. Our terms are as follows: there are none. You will surrender unconditionally and your city will submit to occupation.”

Jewelstar sighed.

“Our terms are reasonable,” Tesota said.

“As are ours. If anyone who wants is permitted to leave, what keeps you from taking your entire army? Rebellion is inevitable in that case.”

“I have another offer,” Glimmer spoke up. “Only civilians will be allowed to leave. You don’t need to be concerned about rebellion if every soldier stays behind.”

“All the worse that every soldier is inside the city. Fealty means little. A vassal made at gunpoint becomes an enemy as soon as the gun is turned away. Verumar should know.”

“You have the chance to end this without more destruction, and you’d throw it away?”

Trydor tilted his head, his singular lens staring blankly at her. She stood her ground.

“Who are you again?”

“I am Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon, of the planet Etheria.”

“Well, my young Queen, perhaps you should have appointed a regent before you left your little world, because this is a galaxy of adults.”

“Don’t talk to her that way!” warned She-Ra, taking a step forward. The Beast, growling with animal fury, matched her movement. Trydor looked her up and down, seemingly unfazed.

“Now you, I believe I recognize,” he said. “From the pages of a history book. Weren’t you dead?”

“Do you want to know how alive I am?”

“Adora, no,” Jewelstar said quietly. She scowled at the General with every muscle in her face, but she made no other move.

“What interesting company you keep, Duke. A queen from a faraway realm, a warrior of ancient legend, and… whoever this is.”

Well, that was uncalled for.

“They are my allies, and they hold powers that you cannot comprehend,” Tesota said, his voice level and firm.

“I’m sure of it.”

Trydor paused. Down the trench, several soldiers started and leveled their guns. Glimmer had disappeared, and teleported directly behind his back. She leaned on her staff, a smug smile on her face, but it quickly turned to a look of shock. Trydor merely inclined his head, and the ring of mechanisms whirred as they spun fully around, the single red eye now literally on the back of his head. As they moved, Jewelstar caught a glimpse of two more lenses of yellow and blue, though they were dim.

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“Very well,” he said. “I’m quite convinced. Terrified, even.”

“Don’t test us, or you’ll see just how legendary we can get,” Adora growled.

“I suppose we’ll see. These negotiations are over.”

Without another word, the General and the Beast turned and climbed back into their command skiff. As they sped away, the party was left standing in the middle of no-man’s-land, with sand blowing in their faces and nothing to show.

As Trydor stepped into the cool air inside his command deck, he took a moment to compose himself.

There was nothing in the battle plans for this. A thousand years of military history and not a single contingency for facing magic on the field. A Sovereign so obsessed with everything having to do with their ancestral home, and he never bothered to write their tactics into the manuals. But why would he? Magic was long gone, abandoned to time, lost along with everything else Eternia had built.

And here it was. The first Verumaran to witness magic in a millennium, and it was wielded by his very foe. How lucky.

First.

Was he the first?

After all, the ship these new arrivals must have come on was known to his computers. Someone, over a week ago, had recorded an encounter with it.

Above the central table, a lifelike projection of his colleague Admiral Merr materialized. The stout Aquatican’s wide eyes always seemed surprised no matter his mood, as Trydor supposed befitted his less refined demeanor. But still, the blue-skinned Admiral was a competent and respected member of Verumar’s high command, and as the commander of the Great Fleet, one of the few with direct access to their Sovereign at all times.

“General Trydor, well met. How is the siege?” Merr asked in his usual rasping tones.

“Strangely, Admiral. I was wondering about a certain ship your forces reported sighting some days ago. An Eternian scout vessel.”

“Yes, one of our Observators spotted it on Craggar. It and another ship, a modified battlecruiser, were tracked to a planet called Tero, but they were engaged in battle and slipped away by some means we honestly still aren’t sure about.”

“It was magic, Merr.”

“Yes, we figured as much.”

“Well, your little scout ship has just reemerged directly on top of my siege, and it was carrying someone with a striking resemblance to a certain She-Ra.”

“Oh. Yes. That’s…”

“Unfortunate. In the future, I would appreciate being informed if any more mythological figures rise from the dead.”

“Thank you, General. I will, uh, tell Lord Skeletor of your discovery.”

Trydor simply closed the transmission without a reply. He let out a breath that shook with barely-disguised anger.

The crew of the Justicar stared at him from their stations, confusion and no small fear writ on their faces. His cybernetic eye flared as he made his decision.

“Prepare to move on the walls.”

Chapter Text

Continued from Part One...

An uneasy silence settled over the city. The sun slowly sank below the horizon and took all heat in the dry air with it, and Catra stood shivering atop the wall, staring out at the forest of tiny lights around which she knew the Verumaran soldiers were gathering to eat their dinners and turn in for the night.

Catra had better night vision than most, and she could only imagine how little her companions saw. She found herself thankful that Etheria’s nights were not such wild shifts from blinding glare to chilling blackness.

“Cold, isn’t it?” Adora’s voice came from behind.

“Yeah,” Catra nodded.

“I wasn’t expecting it to get this chilly,” Adora said.

“No, not really.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“No.”

Adora put her arm around her, and Catra nestled her head into her shoulders.

“You want to talk about it?” Adora asked.

“I thought the war was over,” Catra murmured. “But I guess it never is.”

“We’ll get through this.”

“I know we will. But… what will it take?”

“Nothing we can’t give.”

“We had a happy ending, didn’t we? Now we’re stuck here, in a desert that hates us, in a fight we didn’t want. And if we run, people will die.”

Catra sighed.

“Sometimes I wish we never left Etheria.”

“We can’t change the past,” Adora said, “but we can change the future, alright? We’ll be okay, and so will everyone else. We’ll get that happy ending someday, I know it.”

Out in the desert, the army’s lights began to flare up. More were being lit as they watched. Through the darkness, there was a sudden storm of movement. Both women stood up straight, peering into the black, and Catra spotted it first.

“Oh, great,” she said as her heart plummeted through the bottom of her chest.

Memories of a wreck on Craggar pounded through her brain. Six clawed legs jutted from its hull, carrying it clean over the trenches in massive steps. A two-pronged cannon, the largest anyone had ever seen, rose from the body a hundred feet above the ground. Its steps resounded like thunder in the night, and it looked like a massive warship brought to land.

That, she realized, must be the Justicar.

An alarm began to sound, and spotlights flared to life. As the beam of sight swept over the first trench line, the Verumaran infantry opened fire.

Catra and Adora reflexively ducked behind the parapets, but the shield flared in front of them and stopped the red bolts in their tracks. All across the walls, a great storm of plasma battered the shield, casting mottled, pulsating red and blue glows over everything in sight.

On the walls themselves, soldiers ran to their positions. They leveled their weapons at the enemy lines, but they could not return fire while the shield was up, so they watched the colorful, deadly display with bated breath.

In a flash, Bow and Glimmer materialized on the wall a few yards away. They quickly spotted their friends.

“Are you alright?” Bow asked.

“Yeah, they can’t get through,” Adora said.

“If they can’t get through, then why are they attacking?” Glimmer said.

In the distance, a growling answer came. A low, electric hum that began hundreds of yards away. The silhouette of the Justicar was sharply outlined in blood red as lightning sparked around its enormous cannon.

“TAKE COVER!” howled a soldier in the distance.

A wave of fire split the night, turning it to hellish day, and a thunderous roar washed over them as the Justicar fired.

Catra could see or hear very little for seconds. Her ears screeched with pain and spots swam in her eyes. A strong hand seized her wrist and, blinking, she could make out the broad-shouldered shadow of Bow pulling her to her feet. Something buzzed by the back of her neck, leaving behind the unmistakable acrid stench of energy.

The shield was gone.

Her senses cleared, and the cacophony of battle resounded around her. Soldiers atop the wall were scrambling and shouting in every direction, crouching behind the battlements, half blindly firing into the darkness, writhing in pain on the stone floor with blackened wounds.

She spotted Adora, shaking herself free of the same blinding daze. Their eyes met, and both nodded wordlessly. Catra drew her claws and stood tall.

Adora didn’t bother with her catchphrase. One moment she was there, and the next the battle had been joined by a white-clad warrior of myth. In just two steps, she crossed the length of the wall and placed one boot atop the parapet. A bolt of energy glanced off the flashing Sword of Protection, and then she lifted herself up and dropped over the wall.

Catra, Bow, and Glimmer ran to the edge just in time to witness She-Ra slam into the earth, pounding a crater in the sand. In an instant she bounded forward, crashing into three Verumaran soldiers with her shoulder and sending them flying. She whirled the sword around her, deflecting a pair of shots that came her way, and in the same smooth motion hurled a brilliant wave of magic that knocked an entire squad flat on their backs.

A Riverine soldier gazed awestruck at the sight. Catra caught his eye and shrugged.

“That’s my girl,” she said.

“Look!” Glimmer exclaimed. Catra followed her finger, spying a grappling hook that had landed on the wall and lodged itself squarely in the crenellations. Along its length, she could see dozens more, and Verumaran troops were quickly scaling the ropes.

“No you don’t,” Catra muttered. She dashed towards the first hook and cleanly slashed through the dangling rope, letting the soldiers below fall back onto the sand with a yelp and a muffled thump .

“Watch out!” Bow shouted, loosing an arrow over her shoulder. Its heavy blunt head caught a grey-armored foe in the shoulder, setting them spinning before losing their balance and tumbling down. In answer, another raised their rifle and squeezed off laser bolts that sent both him and Catra diving for cover. But their attacker fell in a heap as a Riverglass fighter clubbed them over the head.

The battle was beginning to devolve into a frantic melee. All around them, Verumarans and Riverines alike were abandoning discipline and lashing out with the butts of their guns. And in such barbarity, the Verumaran bayonet was a truly deadly advantage.

Thankfully, they weren’t the only ones with sharp implements.

A sort of battle-fury came over Catra then. She sprang into action with her claws outstretched, a lifetime of combat training rearing its ferocious head.

Like a gymnast she vaulted above and below, claws shearing through rifles like a reaper through wheat. Every part of her body was honed into a weapon. Iron discipline fused with animal ferocity. A dancing angel of war she was, and the enemy fell before her.

The Verumarans were being driven back. They clambered back over the sides, sliding down on their grappling ropes, or dropping their guns in surrender with nowhere else to run. The first wave repulsed, the brawl began to calm, and shouts of victory rang out from the defenders.

But their victory was short-lived.

Over the field, that hum began again. From across no-man’s-land the great walker, almost forgotten about in the struggle, charged its terrifying weapon.

“Get off the wall!” Glimmer shouted.

“No, I’ve got this!” came She-Ra’s voice from far below. Standing over a battlefield littered with groaning and dazed opponents, she strode forward with the tip of her sword dragging through the sand.

“Adora, wait!” Catra cried, but it was too late. She charged.

She tore across the open field with speed unmatched, and it seemed the massive Justicar noticed. It shifted its six insectoid legs and trained its cannon low.

“ADORA!” Catra screamed again.

With her legendary strength, She-Ra leaped a hundred feet in the air, the sword high above her head and bellowing a battle cry.

Once again, a deafening blast shook the ground, a crimson flash overwhelmed the darkness, and the Justicar fired.

Catra could only watch as her racing heart threatened to burst through her ribcage. In an instant, She-Ra was soaring through the sky trailing fire like a meteor. Her smoking body arced high over the wall, crashing down through a building on the other side.

Glimmer seized Catra’s arm instantly and the world twisted purple and inside-out, and she was suddenly on the streets. Pushing down the urge to vomit, she stumbled for the house with a caved-in roof.

She skidded to a halt beside a tremendous crater dug in the tiled floor. Looking tiny and frail in the rubble, a distinctly un-transformed Adora lay sprawled on the ground, her blue jacket still gently smoldering.

“Ow,” she wheezed.

Flooded with relief, Catra dropped to her knees and lifted her fallen girlfriend up in a tight embrace. Adora coughed violently.

“Owowow, I think I broke something.”

“Are you okay?” Glimmer asked.

“Nope, everything hurts.”

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Catra said, face buried in Adora’s shoulder.

Barrelling in from behind, Scorpia skidded to a halt just before bowling Glimmer over. Her eyes were wild and her hair was wilder, flying out in every direction. When she saw Adora, she dropped her shoulders and huffed in relief.

“Oh, man, that was a heck of a hit!” she said.

“Not the biggest understatement I’ve heard, but definitely in the top five,” Adora said.

“Did you get it?”

“No, I didn’t get it. That’s why I’m here.”

A realization hit Catra like a truck, and she pulled away from her embrace.

“Oh no,” she said. “It’s going to destroy the walls!”

Glimmer volunteered a hand, but Catra waved her off. She dashed back outside.

The wall was still there, standing strong over the outskirts of the city. Though that terrible rising hum was absent, a powerful voice split the dark at deafening volume, blasted from some infernal loudspeaker.

“I WILL GIVE YOU ONE MORE CHANCE. YOU HAVE UNTIL MORNING TO LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS. AT DAWN, THE WALL BREAKS.”

And then, even the firefight died. Only the sound of panicked citizens hurrying to safe places echoed through the streets of Riverglass.

The moons rose high, like pale glowing eyes in the starry black void, and the Justicar had loomed silent beneath them for hours.

Occasional spats erupted along the walls, with potshots interchanged. Nothing that required the Princesses’ attention, however, and planning became the order of the eve.

Though, not everyone was planning.

Adora had lost the battle with sleep some time ago. Despite herself, despite her vigilance, she nodded off while awaiting the inevitable re-ignition of the action. Perhaps due to her injured state, or perhaps simple fatigue, her alertness had fallen away and the curtains closed on her vision, and she tumbled into a dream.

A familiar dream.

She drifted through the expanse. Weightless. Alone.

Before her, a vast, pulsing cloud. A miasma alive with lightning. At its center, a swirling vortex.

She swam towards it. She could not resist. It drew her in like gravity itself.

The whirlpool made no sound, yet it roared in her ears. It sounded like voices. None were familiar, but she knew them.

The howling spiral widened. It beckoned her.

She must go to it, it cried. The Enemy was behind her.

A fell voice shook the abyss. A sound of cold emerald.

Fallen I am, but dead I am not yet.

She knew His voice. She had faced it many times.

One infinity ends, another is renewed.

With breath on her neck, evil slowed her progress.

I am Death, and to Death I return.

His gravity ground at her bones.

You are Life, and lost Life you shall restore.

And she could not stand. And the void fell away beneath her. And she was doomed.

Adora returned to consciousness groggy and cold. The only light was the fire of candles, and a chill blew in from outside, meaning it was still night. Sounds of a distant firefight wafted through the windows.

It seemed the others were already awake. The candle-lit silhouettes of the Star Siblings, clustered together as they usually were, conferred in whispers with Tesota. Her other friends were scattered around the room, murmuring quietly among themselves.

Adora didn’t remember when she had fallen asleep. She rubbed the crust from her eyes and stood.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Catra said.

“Oh, you’re awake,” said the Duke. “We didn’t want to proceed until you were with us.”

“Did anyone else get some sleep?” Adora asked.

“No, we’ve all been up,” Glimmer said.

“You’ve been planning without me?”

“You were hurt,” Perfuma said. “We thought you needed rest, and we didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Uh, thanks.”

She stepped forward to join the crew.

“The plan,” Jewelstar said, “is simple enough.”

“I’ll teleport us on top of the walker,” Glimmer said. “Then you’ll break open the hatch so we can capture it.”

“Once we’ve taken over, we threaten the army with the big gun and make them surrender,” Bow finished.

“Sounds easy,” Adora said.

“Too easy,” Catra voiced the catch that hung in the air.

“It’s not like there’s no room for error,” Tallstar said. “And we’re very good at improvising.”

“If anything goes wrong, we can all teleport out,” Starla said.

“And if you do win, but they don’t surrender?” Tesota asked.

“Then we’ll still have captured their biggest weapon,” Starla replied.

“Either way, it’s worth the effort,” said Bow.

“Sounds like a good enough plan,” Adora said. “Let’s do it.”

Scorpia didn’t get it.

She stood atop the wall with the rest of the band, shivering in the nighttime cold. The sun peeked over the horizon in the far distance, surely bringing back the horrid heat. The inside of her throat was dry as the sand itself, the last time she had a drink being hours and hours ago now. The entire city was on water rations, but that wasn’t the war — the river it was named for had been gone for years.

Why anyone would choose to live like this?

The group stared out at the enormous shadow of the Justicar in the rising sun. They’d be on top of it in a few moments, and hopefully poke a big hole in that steel-grey armored shell and turn it right back on the bad guys.

They had to be the bad guys, right? They were the ones attacking this city, and they were the ones refusing to stop.

Why were they refusing to stop?

If the soldiers out there gave up, they could go back home and have a much better time than roasting out here. If the soldiers in here gave up, they could rest, could bring in food and fix their city. Why did they all just keep going?

She wondered if it was like the Horde on Etheria. A “military economy,” she’d heard Hordak call it once. Back then, there really were just three jobs. You could either be a soldier, a farmer, or a miner. Sure, there was super complicated stuff like building bots, but Scorpia never considered that job for herself as she wasn’t nearly smart enough and didn’t really have the fingers for it.

Maybe they didn’t get a choice.

“Ready to go?” called Glimmer.

Scorpia glanced from side to side. Faces were set and weapons were drawn. On her left side, Catra stared resolutely ahead, face unreadable. On her right, Perfuma caught her eye and gave a taut smile. She smiled back, making it extra wide and warm to make her feel better.

“All set,” Adora said.

“We will give you as much cover as we can,” Tesota said. “Good luck.”

With a motion of his hand, the Riverine soldiers started shooting. The metallic pops of their energy bolts echoed off the sand that was still packed down hard from last night’s skirmishes, overwhelming the morning air.

“Link arms and let’s roll,” Glimmer ordered.

Scorpia reached out her hands, letting her friends grab hold of them. A sort of tingling buzz began in the tip of her claws (unrelated, it should be noted, to the other tingling that came with Perfuma touching her hand), making all the hair on her body stand up. On the end of the line, Glimmer made a grunt of exertion, but the group didn’t move.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jewelstar asked.

“I’m not…” Glimmer started. “Ugh, I’m still not used to having limits on my magic again. Just a second.”

She closed her eyes. Her chest rose, then fell, and the buzz began again. But this time, it rose until pink sparkles filled the air, and the world turned inside out.

In an instant, her vision was somewhere else, her brain left behind to sort out where exactly her body had just gone. Then, her senses snapped back into place like a rubber band and the world crashed into focus.

It felt more like standing on a building than a vehicle. The flat area they landed on could comfortably seat an entire tank, and the dark armor sloped down beyond it like a massive hill. High above them, so high Scorpia could barely touch it, the massive tuning-fork cannon loomed silently, seeming to strengthen the darkness even if the sun had not yet risen above the mountains to cast its shadow.

Everyone drew their weapons and readied for battle, but no one was on top with them.

“Let’s get moving,” Tallstar urged. “The shooting won’t have their attention for long.”

As if to confirm, there was a shout from far away on the ground, then a laser bolt that zinged above their heads.

She-Ra wasted no time. Quickly locating the door, she raised her sword high and drove it into the airtight seal at its edge. Straining, she pried at it like a crowbar, and a tiny crack of light shone from within.

Suddenly, the door flew open. A bayonet slashed out from inside, narrowly missing her face. She fell backward. The masked soldier prepared to stab again, but a bolt of pink light caught them in the chest and sent them tumbling back down into the walker’s depths.

“Welp, they know we’re here,” Scorpia shrugged.

No sooner than She-Ra had stood back up than a brown blur came flying from the hatch and slammed into her, launching end over end in a scuffle of flailing limbs and fur. A massive beast of a man, big as She-Ra and twice as vicious, was attempting to tear her throat out with enormous black claws.

Scorpia readied to blast it, but a deep voice from behind made her turn right back around.

“I take it this means you’re refusing my offer?”

It was the same voice as the announcement earlier that night. The general of the Verumaran army — Trydor, his name was — stood silhouetted against the light from inside.

“Take care of the big one,” Scorpia said, settling into a battle posture. “I’ve got this guy!”

“Scorpia, wait!” Perfuma cried, but it was too late.

She sprang forward, claws outstretched and crackling with energy. She slashed once, twice, and he neatly ducked down and back. She settled back, charging to blast him, but the single red light in his head glowed brightly and hummed.

Just like the walker.

Uh oh.

Before she could move, a scarlet bolt of energy lanced out from his cyclopean eye and slammed into her chest. Her vision went white, all the breath exploding from her lungs. Her back hit metal.

She heard Perfuma cry out. Regaining some measure of vision, she saw the plant princess lashing out with thorny vines at Trydor like whips, though he effortlessly dodged each blow. She feebly lifted herself from the ground to help, but Jewelstar intervened before she could, flying in with knives flashing. Trydor loosed another red beam, which her white-haired companion dodged.

Now, soldiers were beginning to pour out from inside the walker. Struggling to her feet, Scorpia reignited her magical lightning. Raising her arms high, she struck out at the first in line, then twisted the bolt of electricity in the air so that it arced out and struck the two beside them. Before she could make another attack, however, something rammed into her from behind. The huge Beast-Man, tussling with She-Ra, had been thrown violently and crashed into her back.

“Sorry!” Adora cried.

“S’okay!” Scorpia called back. “Not a lot of room, I get it!”

Hearing her shout, the Beast whirled around, bearlike claws raking through the air. She brought her arm up, barely keeping her face from being gouged off. Still, the Beast’s claws dug into her exoskeleton. She cracked him across the face as hard as she could with her electrified other arm, making his fur stand up with static, but he was barely moved and roared in defiance.

“Oops. Play nice?” she asked weakly.

Pain exploded across her jaw as a backhand threw her away. She hit the floor hard (for the, what, third time in a minute?) and skidded backwards, wondering why exactly she felt like she was still falling.

Oh. She was going over the side.

She scrambled wildly, trying to find a handhold in the smooth metal shell, but nothing was there. Then, a thick vine lashed over the side of the platform, wrapping around her arm and jerking her to a stop. On the other end, Perfuma looked down at her.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Man, I’m getting cooked out here,” Scorpia mused.

Literally in one sense, as her chest still slightly smoldered from that laser beam.

Scorpia braced her feet against the hull and the two worked together to pull her back up, and both took a moment to catch their breath. The battle was utter chaos. Her friends were surrounded, packed together and slowly being separated in a throng of soldiers.

“This isn’t going well,” Perfuma muttered.

Wasting little more time, they rejoined the fight. Scorpia plucked a grey-armored soldier from the mosh pit and hurled him away. Off to the side, Trydor reached out a hand and grabbed the soldier’s collar, just before he fell over the edge. He hauled him up, then fired a laser blast in retaliation. She ducked underneath it, then gave a shock of her own that he dodged in turn.

She-Ra was at the center of it all, straining under a dog-pile of Verumaran troops trying desperately to hold her down. Catra nimbly danced over and around the Beast’s wild blows, invoking snarls of rage. The Star Siblings were backed against one another, trading blows with bayonets, and Bow and Glimmer were in the same position.

“Hey, Adora!” Scorpia shouted.

“What…” she growled.

“I don’t think this is working!”

“Oh, really? What gave you that idea?”

“I dunno, just a feeling!”

Adora flexed mightily, sending soldiers sprawling in every direction. She drew up to her full height over everyone’s heads and surveyed the skirmish.

“Alright, go get the Stars out of there,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am!”

Scorpia turned and reflexively backhanded away a trooper trying to flank her. Her tail flashed out and jabbed another, dropping them to the floor like a sack of potatoes. There were about half a dozen between her and the Star Siblings.

Just as she prepared to bowl them over, Trydor stepped in. His eye-thing pulsed red once again, but she was ready for it this time. She ducked under the blast and, almost without thinking, reached out and seized a random soldier, who cried out in protest as they were heaved bodily at the general. He caught them and lowered them to the ground, but in doing so, Scorpia dashed forward and clocked him across the face. He stumbled back in a daze, and Scorpia blew past him.

Starla noticed her coming to their rescue first, and she lashed out with her blades, forcing the soldiers back and holding their attention as Scorpia came up on them from behind. She grabbed their heads and slammed them together, letting them both slump to the ground.

“Come on!” she said, and they didn’t need to be told twice.

Perfuma was somewhere behind her, wrenching a rifle out of a set of hands with her vines. She spotted Scorpia and they made their way together, Star trio at their backs.

Unfortunately, Glimmer was on the other side of the Beast.

The snarling creature was still sparring with Catra, slavering with fury and frustration. Despite her agility, her breaths were coming fast and each swipe was coming closer. Scorpia bull-rushed in, crashing into the Beast with her shoulder and knocking him ever so briefly off-balance. But he recovered too quickly. They locked arms and pushed against one another with all their might, his salivating fangs inches from her face. He was stronger.

Thinking quick — or not thinking, more likely — she slammed her forehead into the bridge of his thick nose.

It hurt. A lot. Set her head pounding.

But it worked well enough. The Beast recoiled, and drops of blood joined the spittle splattering the metal deck. She pulled away, reared back, and delivered the biggest shock she could square into his chest. He careened backward, scattering a small number of soldiers behind him, out of the way just for the moment.

Catra, panting hard, grabbed Scorpia by the elbow. Someone, she couldn’t see who, took hold of her other side.

Once again the world spun off its axis, and they collapsed onto the wall of Riverglass.

White-clad troopers, carrying bags with red crosses emblazoned on the canvas, hurried to their side. One of them knelt next to Scorpia, but she waved them off, scanning for Perfuma.

“Everyone here?” Adora yelled out. “Head count!”

“Oh no,” Scorpia murmured.

Perfuma wasn’t with them.

“Perfuma!” she called. “Hey, where are you?”

It was too late. They all knew where she was. She’d been left behind, stranded on that infernal machine. Captured.

One cheek turned skyward throbbed with pain, the other pressed against the warm deck. The machinery pulsed in time with the bruises. 

Perfuma only registered that the others were gone when she heard the clamoring footsteps by her ears slow to a halt.

 A firm hand seized her shoulder, wrenching her from the ground. But just as suddenly, the grip slackened, and she was left to slump to her knees.

“That’s not how we treat prisoners, Sergeant,” Trydor commanded.

His cold eye, emotionless as the metal and scarlet crystal it was crafted from, hovered in front of her face as he kneeled down.

“How many casualties?” he asked someone over her shoulder.

“Several injuries, no dead.”

“Hmm. You people are unusual.”

“We’ll stop you,” Perfuma croaked out.

“You know well enough I can’t allow that.”

Trydor stood.

“She’s severely concussed, take her below and have a medic treat her,” he ordered.

“Weakling,” came a low and rumbly voice. It took a moment for her to realize it was coming from the hulking Beast-Man.

Trydor turned sharply to stare him down.

“Warfare has rules, brute, and the fact you don’t understand that is exactly why I am in command here. Keep your tongue behind your fangs and spare us having to smell your breath.”

The Beast grumbled but said nothing more.

And then, Trydor made the most curious sound: he sighed.

“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he said under his breath.

Two soldiers took Perfuma under her arms. As she was hauled into the hatch and down the steep stairs into the belly of the walker, indistinct voices began to echo over the platform. Someone warned of a sandstorm, and then there was a firm command.

She felt the machine shudder with energy. It set her head pounding once again.

The last thing she heard before blacking out again was a thunderous roar, somehow muffled by the thick metal shell now surrounding her, and the fleeting thought that the city of Riverglass was doomed.

Continued in Part Three...