From her vantage point atop the emerald walls of the Fright Zone, Scorpia looked out across vast, lifeless plains. The dreary hum of machinery and the biting odour of burning petroleum had faded for her after only a few minutes outside of the carefully-ventilated corridors, but every now and again her train of thought would be interrupted by the growl of some engine, or the thud of a piston. In the distance, the sun was setting, burning the sky in a deep orange blaze; on the horizon, the tiniest hint of a shadow stretched as far as the eye could see, the only evidence that any life at all existed outside of Hordak’s domain. Guard duty friggin’ [i]sucked[/i]. Scorpia didn’t even have her cadets with her for company this time—Shadow Weaver had sent them to bolster the squadron that Adora was leading into Thaymor, and clearly she was using the opportunity to test the new captain’s leadership skills. Scorpia was fine with that, really. Adora had seemed nice enough: she was easily the most attentive of the group at Scorpia’s seminar for Force Captain Orientation. She’d treat the kids well. It was dull without them, though. Guard duty was practically a formality at this point: the wasteland around the base, stretching almost as far as the eye could see, made attack or infiltration nigh on impossible. But Hordak wanted guards, so someone had to be on duty at all times. It gave everyone a break in their rotation, sure, but the loneliness was [i]killing[/i] her. The low roar of a skiff approaching snapped Scorpia to attention. Her eyesight wasn't the keenest, and it took a minute or two as the sound grew louder before she saw it—maybe two, three minutes away, a thin plume of smoke trailing in the air above it. With hardly a moment's thought, she threw herself into a sprint. From where she was standing, a two minute run at top speed should get her to the main gates. With luck, she'd get there in time to catch her breath before the troops returned… The gates opened just as Scorpia skidded to a halt beside them. Panting heavily, she locked eyes with the driver of the skiff—a fairly young cadet she didn't recognise, with a dark, fierce look in her eyes. “Report,” she barked as best she could between heavy breaths. “Catr– Force Captain Catra sent us ahead.” Behind her, two other cadets stepped off the skiff. They were young, too, around her group's age. “We've taken heavy casualties. We need to get the medbay warned, [i]now[/i].” “Of course,” Scorpia replied, grimacing and pressing a claw against her side as subtly as she could. She was [i]not[/i] out of shape. She just needed to get back into the training exercises, maybe ask if she could be transferred out of education and into the field for a few months… “Are you going to call them?” The cadet's drawl snapped her back to the moment. “Yes! Yes, uh, I'll do that.” She fumbled at her belt for her communicator, and prodded in the key code for the medbay. The communicator crackled to life, and she kept her focus squarely on it, trying to avoid the cadet’s burning gaze. “Medbay here. Who’s calling?” Oh thank [i]goodness[/i] for Geoffrey. He might have a no-nonsense attitude, but he was efficient and he’d get the cadet to [i]stop staring at her[/i]. “Hi Geoffrey!” A pause. “Uh, Force Captain Scorpia here. We’ve got a squadron returning from battle, I’m told they have heavy injuries. Can we get something prepared for them?” “How many wounded?” “Um, honestly I’m not certain on that one, but I’ll get—” “Fifteen so badly injured they can’t walk,” the cadet recited, snatching the communicator from her claw. “They’re being driven back in the tanks, now, and should be here within half an hour. Five are knocked out, but were breathing when we left. And a couple of cadets have lost a lot of blood, too, after being hit by shrapnel.” Scorpia’s eyes widened at that. Shrapnel? The rebellion hadn’t put up any real fight in years, but the dangers of the Whispering Woods weren’t the kind of dangers that caused explosions. What on Etheria had happened out there? Were her kids okay? When the wounded arrived, Scorpia found herself at a loss for anything to do. Geoffrey had sent a small group of medics to the gates with emergency supplies, and thank goodness for that because at least three cadets looked as if they were about to drop dead on the spot. Stretchers ferried the injured to the medbay, a brief stream of white and grey amid the smoke and metal. The medical team were a well-oiled machine—and one she had no part in. She couldn’t even find her kids, among all the confusion. So she sat with the cadets she’d met earlier in a comfortable silence. They weren’t her squad, but they were still junior—a good two or three years younger than her, if she had to guess—and looked like they could do with someone to look out for them. If she was having a rough time, she could hardly imagine what they were going through. The final tank trundled in through the gates, and Scorpia watched as a small figure bounded out of the top and landed on the dusty floor, glancing around warily, cat-like tail twitching in anticipation. Scorpia glanced at the small patch of green on the girl’s chest. She was a Force Captain? Scorpia had never seen her before, and Scorpia made it her business to know [i]everyone[/i]. “Who’s that?” Lonnie looked up, bored, and followed the direction Scorpia nodded her head towards. “That’s Catra. She was on our squad till she got promoted, like, yesterday. She’s an ass, but she’s good in a fight.” “Huh.” Scorpia wasn’t sure why they were sending out such freshly-minted captains on key missions like this, but if Shadow Weaver was going to send Adora out to lead one perhaps this was a new thing? Speaking of… “Wasn’t this mission supposed to be run by Force Captain Adora?” “She disappeared last night,” Lonnie said. “I heard her and Catra get up, and she said something about being back soon so I just went back to sleep. Next thing we know, Catra’s been promoted in her absence and we’re being carted off to Thaymor.” “Huh,” Scorpia repeated. That would explain the multiple promotions from the same squad. “I’m gonna talk to her. See how she’s holding up, y’know?” “Yeah, good luck with that.” Scorpia shook her head and smiled fondly as she walked away from the cadets. Lonnie seemed pretty level-headed, but was a bit too much like Geoffrey for her tastes. Scorpia reckoned that kid would’ve been an easy contender for Force Captain, if she hadn’t been in a squad with Adora—and, it seems, Catra. Across the impromptu medbay that was the front courtyard of the base, Catra carved a path through the crowd as she marched towards the barracks. Even from a distance, she looked dazed, distracted. All Scorpia wanted to do was bundle her up in a big hug and to tell her that it’d be okay, that [i]everyone[/i] suffered [i]some[/i] losses in their military career. She should probably debrief her first, though. That would be the sensible thing to do. “Hey!” she called out, pushing her way gently past a couple of medics as she crossed the courtyard. [i]Of course[/i] Catra would be walking down the far side from her. Why wouldn’t she? It was like the universe was trying to remind her how out of shape she was. With a grimace, she broke into a jog. “Hey, Catra, wait up!” The other Force Captain kept marching forward, not even slowing down at the mention of her name—if anything, Scorpia could’ve sworn she’d sped up. Trying to keep her breathing steady, she picked up the pace herself. She’d barely crossed half the courtyard and Catra was almost to the door— A pair of white-clad medics pressed into her path, a stretcher held between them. Skidding to a halt, she glanced involuntarily down at the cadet—not one of hers, but they all looked so [i]young[/i] that she couldn’t help but feel responsible for them—and by the time she glanced back up, the last glimpse of Catra’s tail flicked inside the barracks. [i]Damn[/i]. She must not have seen her. Taking a few deep breaths, Scorpia turned back towards Lonnie. Perhaps she could get a sense of what had happened from the cadets, now that things had calmed down. Besides, she’d have time to find the new Force Captain tomorrow, if she checked in the orientation classes. [hr] Scorpia was [i]not[/i] jealous of Adora. Carefully fixing a heat bomb to a pillar of ice, her tongue poking out through the corners of her lips in concentration as she turned the device just so, Scorpia tried not to hear the gentle thrum of music from the grand hall, and the chatter that came with it. Proms were stupid, anyway. They deserved to get blown up. Bomb successfully planted, Scorpia allowed herself a moment to breathe, and smiled. She still had a while to go until the first dance, and she was almost half done on the heat bombs already! If she worked hard enough, she might even get time to join in for the dance before they had to detonate them. Catra couldn’t need to work that hard distracting Adora, could she? She definitely didn’t need to [i]dance[/i] with Adora. That had been a dumb joke, and Scorpia had chuckled along dutifully at the time, but now she was starting to regret not really pinning down Catra’s side of this operation as well as hers. Sure, Catra needed the ability to improvise to pull off her distraction as well as she could, but they could have at least set out some ground rules on what was okay. Catra was [i]her[/i] plus one, after all. Scorpia stomped over to the next pillar—this one around a corner, and she had to duck out of sight of a couple of guests for a moment as she rounded it—and pulled out the next bomb from her bag. Stupid friggin’ dances. She didn’t even want to dance with Catra, anyway. Not here, anyway: she had two left feet, and didn’t want to make a fool of herself in public. It was just… She never could get over how fixated Catra would get on Adora. They would be preparing for some mission, going over tactics in advance and making sure they had a plan and were ready for any eventuality, and though she never seemed completely focused Catra would at least be paying attention. But then someone would mention She-Ra, and Catra’s eyes would burn with a fire that almost scared Scorpia, and she would suddenly switch from idly listening to taking control of the meeting, laying out a plan for keeping Adora at bay. Sometimes it felt like the only person Catra really saw as, well, a [i]person[/i] was Adora. And that was fine! Scorpia got that they had been close—she’d been close with her kids, after all, and she knew what it was like to put everything else on hold while she made sure those who meant the most to her were okay—but they were [i]enemies[/i] now. It couldn’t be healthy to have that kind of relationship with someone you were meant to be fighting. And yeah, maybe it did hurt a bit that Catra cared more about the leader of the Princess Rebellion than she did about her own squad. Because squads were meant to stick together, not [i]ditch[/i] their [i]dates[/i] to go and [i]dance with their enemy[/i]— Oops. Scorpia prodded gently at the heat bomb, now stuck in a small crack in the pillar where she had pressed it in perhaps a little too forcefully. It didn’t seem to be broken, still steaming away gently, and it seemed fairly sturdy and in place, so Scorpia shrugged and moved on to the next pillar. She was [i]not[/i] jealous of Adora. She was [i]so[/i] jealous of Adora. “Do they really need to be dancing that close?” Her voice, drowned out by the loud music, was still laced with worry. Beside her, decked out as a guard watching over the ball, Lonnie shrugged. Scorpia was tracking Catra through the crowd, craning her neck to keep an eye on her partner. Biting her lip, her eyes kept flicking back to Lonnie, surprised as always by the cadet’s ability to remain calm when plans were crumbling around them. Catra passed Adora off to another princess, as the dance called for people to start switching partners, and Scorpia let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. It was an act. It was just an act, to keep Adora from spotting the real threat. And with the boy and the sword already theirs, it was working perfectly—but couldn’t they call it quits now? They had what they needed. Why wasn’t Catra giving the signal to detonate? “The longer we keep this up, the more chance someone’s going to find those bombs,” Scorpia muttered. Beside her, Lonnie tensed. [i]Finally[/i], someone else recognised the problem. “I’m sure Catra’s spotted us,” Kyle piped up. “She knows we’re ready. We’ve got to trust that she’s delaying for a reason. She must be keeping an eye for the best moment to strike, that’s all.” “Or the best moment to flirt with Adora,” Lonnie grumbled. Scorpia whipped around to face the two of them, and Lonnie shrugged. “Oh come on,” she said, her voice heavy with frustration, “y’all know that’s the real reason she came up with a plan that involved her distracting Adora at a dance. I mean, [i]look at her[/i]!” Scorpia turned back to the crowd to see Catra fall into Adora’s arms, a smug grin on her face as she pulled Adora into a dip. “This is completely unnecessary!” Scorpia wailed, quietly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say since we started this mission,” Lonnie said. “Screw it. Kyle, with me. We might as well get the prisoner to the ship. Captain, you’ve got the detonation switch?” Scorpia nodded, giving her claw a shake and feeling the box inside it rattle back and forth. She winced—her claws might make excellent hiding places for weapons, stolen goods, or a snack snuck into a briefing, but they had a few sensitive spots that made them quite uncomfortable to use. Behind her, Lonnie led Kyle away, and her attention drifted completely to Catra. There was such an intensity in the way her partner looked at Adora, and the dip certainly wasn’t helping prove Lonnie wrong. Catra looked smug and confident, sure, but even from here Scorpia could pick up on her tension as she hoisted Adora back up. It wasn’t hard to spot. It was exactly how being around Catra made her feel, after all. [hr] “Is this really how you spend your day off?” Scorpia looked up from the quiet forms of her old squad at that familiar voice, and for once her heart didn’t quicken. She supposed that was progress. But wasn’t progress supposed to feel good? “Every other week,” she said. “They deserve the company, but I deserve some days off to myself, you know?” Catra nodded. “You holding up okay?” Scorpia paused. How could she be holding up well at all? She'd messed up, she [i]knew[/i] she'd messed up, and she wanted more than anything to just take it all back. But she couldn't. And even if she could, she wasn't brave enough to try. “Yeah,” she lied, eventually. “I mean, I’ve still got you, and ‘Trapta, and your squad. And Darryl woke up a couple of weeks back, so I guess I’ve got more hope than before.” Quiet. Not silence—the hum of machines, the beeping of monitors, the soft hush of breaths. Tense. Itching to be filled. “I’m sorry.” “S’not your fault.” Catra raised an eyebrow. “Morally, I mean. Obviously they were your responsibility, but just ‘cos Thaymor was your first mission and all doesn’t mean you could’ve planned for… y’know. [i]Her[/i].” Somewhere in the corner of the room, a nurse carefully stripped a bed of its old sheets, and laid out fresh ones. The rustle of fabric joined the quiet. “I’m sorry—” “I wanted to apol—” Scorpia smiled as Catra cut herself off, too, but it didn’t feel warm. She nodded for Catra to take the lead. She didn’t think she had the courage to try again. “I just… I wanted to apologise for the other day. It was pretty shitty of me to snap at you like that, when you were being so open with me.” Catra hoisted her feet up onto her chair, and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I should’ve let you down gently. Some friend I am.” “It’s fine,” Scorpia said, although it really wasn’t. “I asked at a bad time, and it should’ve been obvious. And I ended up ruining games night.” Catra chuckled a bit at that, and Scorpia found herself smiling, despite it all. “What do you even see in me?” Scorpia frowned. “What’s not to see in you?” “Please,” Catra drawled. “I’m a mess. I only made it as far as I have because I gave Entrapta an opportunity to try something crazy. And now she’s off with Hordak working on who knows what kind of mad scientist bullshit, and I’m just a dumb failure with abandonment issues.” “That’s not true!” Scorpia said, reaching out a claw to pull Catra close for a hug. For once, she didn’t resist, burying her face in Scorpia’s shoulder, hair brushing softly against her neck and chin. “You’re not dumb—you’re way smarter than every Force Captain I know. Whose idea was it to even get ‘Trapta on board? Who saw the potential she had? Anyone else would have taken her captive and thrown her in a cell, but [i]you[/i] saw a talent that would help the Horde!” “I still can’t beat Adora though,” Catra mumbled. “She’s kicking our asses out there.” “We’re at a stalemate,” Scorpia said, patiently. “She’s just given the rebellion the boost they needed to start defending properly. It sucks, but it’s not like they’ve pushed us onto the defensive or anything.” Catra snorted, a muffled sound that sounded to Scorpia half-hearted. “I guess. I still think we need to take her down soon, though.” “Are you sure that you want to take her [i]down[/i]?” It was a lot easier to joke about Catra’s obsession with Adora now she’d gotten her own feelings off her chest. It was a kind of moving on. Progress. Catra pulled away, a sour look on her face. “Ugh, not you too. Lonnie won’t shut up about that dumb idea of hers, will she? I’ve [i]not[/i] got a thing for Adora. I just…” Catra paused, swallowed, and took a breath. “I just miss my best friend. And every time I see her, it reminds me that I can’t ever have her back. That she [i]left[/i] me.” She sighed. Scorpia watched her with a curious expression as she stood up and stretched. “I [i]am[/i] sorry I snapped at you, though,” she added. “I thought games night would distract me from the whole ‘one year without Adora’ thing, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her anyway. I do that a lot, and I think I end up treating you and Entrapta like… I dunno, like you’re not really there? It’s kinda fucked up. I’m gonna try not to.” Scorpia smiled. There was something almost bittersweet about her confession bringing out Catra’s introspective side. “That sounds like a good idea to me.” “Yeah,” Catra said. “Still, I’m sorry. If you wanna take a shift with someone else for a few weeks, y’know, for space, that’s fine…” “No!” Scorpia said, perhaps a little too forcefully. “No. It– it’s fine, really. I, uh, I just want to keep to routine. It’ll be easier that way, for me.” “Sure.” Catra’s voice was quiet, almost fading into the sounds of the medbay as she walked purposefully to the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning?” “Yeah.” Scorpia smiled as Catra hung on the doorframe for a moment. “I’ll see you then.” Catra flashed her a flat smile as she turned the corner, and—not for the first time that week, and likely not for the last—Scorpia’s heart seemed like a vacuum in her chest. She turned her back on the door anyway, tried to push out the thoughts of Catra that never left, not really, and sat in watch over her old friends as her shaking breath slowly settled, until the medbay was quiet once more.