Cat-Ra
"Catra, tree, tree!"
Catra was lying face first in mud. Which was weird, because there weren't many muddy areas in the Zone - Hordak's decorating was more cyber-punk dystopia. Short-term memory trickled back: the skiff! Obviously she would've dodged the tree if know-it-all Adora hadn't… Adora?
She pushed herself up, head ringing. Cats were supposed to land on their feet - had she used up her nine charges? The skiff was nearby, battered but seemingly operational, good news for the Vehicles Department. More intriguing, however, was the sword standing in the pool of eerie light beside it.
It was partly overgrown, so it'd been here a while, but not at all rusted, so... amazing mineral oil? Either that or it was haunted like everything else in these blasted Woods. They should burn it all down and make a nice non-whispering parking lot. Who's idea had it been to come here, anyway? Oh, right.
The fancy crossguard was clearly ceremonial, not at all functional. Some Princess must've misplaced her toy. Catra grabbed the hilt, she couldn't wait to show it to Adora. The sword exploded into light.
Catra screamed, but wasn't torn apart by a Rebel IED. Using something this pretty as bait would've been a low blow even for them. But if it wasn't Rebels… She opened her yellow eye. She was in a blue-purple hued room covered in geometric and electronics patterns. She really hated these Woods.
"Hello, Adora."
Catra jumped to her feet, claws extended, hackles raised. There was a purple lady in a matching cape, features not quite human.
"I'm not Adora," she hissed. "What do you want with her?"
"My name is Light Hope," said the lady, flickering. Some kind of projection.
"I have been waiting a long time for you," she continued. "But I could not reach you until you forged your connection with the sword."
"I've told you, I'm not Adora. Disappointing, I know." Of course the magic sword lady would be looking for the golden girl of destiny. Things just worked out that way for her. "Is there a delay in the transmission? Am I on mute?"
"The sword is meant for you," said Light Hope. "Etheria has need of you, Adora. Will you answer its call? Will you fight for the honor of Grayskull?"
"What the hell is Grayskull?"
"You will," said Light Hope.
"That doesn't even make sense!" cried Catra, but she was alone in the Woods again. Well, plus the cursed sword that wanted very badly to find Adora. At least they had that in common. Something rustled in the brush.
"Adora?"
A tank-sized beetle charged, fangs narrowly missing her. She parried a claw with the sword, but she must've missed the fencing module at Force Captain training, and the beast had a few tons and several limbs to its advantage.
"Adora, will you fight for the honor of Grayskull?" she heard Light Hope in her mind. So that was the deal, serve or be eaten? That made Shadow Weaver look almost affectionate.
"For the thousandth time in my life," said Catra, severing a giant foreleg, "I. Am not. Adora!"
The beast roared but did not back down. This seemed like a situation she couldn't handle on her own - which was as infuriating as it was rare (despite however often Adora thought she needed saving).
"You win, purple lady," said Catra. "I'll fight for the honor of Grayskull."
Yellow beams erupted from the sword and hit the creature, but rather than die it sprouted rainbow insect wings on its back, its horn glowing. Almost as shocked as Catra, the creature buzzed into the night trailing green ichor.
"Not bad," said Catra, regaining some of her swagger. What had she sold her soul into? "I hope this thing has other settings besides add rainbow wings."
As the adrenaline subsided, she noticed the bleeding gash on her leg. Adora had aced the first aid module, naturally. Catra barely remembered something about using the Fatality-Delaying Field Kit (which they neglected to pack) to stop the bleeding. She should probably keep her leg elevated, but that conflicted with getting herself to the skiff and finding someone who had actually attended the module (if you are lucky enough for an amputation, battle prosthetics will have you looking just like Lord Hordak!). Why could she only remember the useless propaganda bits? Was she getting delirious? Probably, she could swear she was wearing a tiara.
#
"Healing complete," Light Hope chirped.
"What?" said Catra. Wiping away the blood, she saw the wound had knit itself together. "How?"
"The sword has many powers you will unlock in time," Light Hope said smugly.
"Neat," said Catra. Maybe this sword thing wasn't so… "Wait, the tiara's real?"
"That is the battle armor of She-Ra, Princess of Power, Protector of Etheria."
"Doesn't seem very… protective," said Catra, poking the tip of a tiara wing.
"The armor extends the force field generated by the sword and your willpower," said Light Hope.
"Guess that explains the glowing."
"It was designed by the First Ones to optimize weight, freedom of movement, and, of course, aesthetics."
"Of course," Catra said doubtfully. "Do you have anything else? Maybe at the back of the store?"
"There is a previous version," said Light Hope, projecting a bluish hologram from the sword jewel.
Catra flinched. "Not to slut-shame anyone, but I'm guessing the First Ones were non-humanoid? How can anyone be expected to fight in a strapless top, miniskirt and heels?"
"Other She-Ra's have said it made them feel confident and, er, bad-ass," Light Hope said defensively.
"More power to them," said Catra. "I think it looks male-gazey as hell. This She-Ra's gonna make a few adjustments."
"If you must," sighed Light Hope.
"Lose the boots," said Catra. "I need claws on the ground for balance."
"But the force field…"
"Throw in an ankle bracelet or whatever."
"Done," said Light Hope, updating the hologram.
"White and gold aren't really my color," said Catra. Though they would look cute on Adora. "Does it come in black and silver?"
"Done."
"Does the cape serve any purpose?"
"It's pretty," said Light Hope. "It stays."
"Fine, make it purple," said Catra. "Now about the giant hair…"
"An unexpected side-effect of the transformation," said Light Hope. "We do not fully understand…"
"I love it," said Catra, running her fingers through her glorious mane.
"If that will be all," Light Hope said curtly, "I will commence rendering the, er, adjustments."
A flash of light and Catra was alone again, the sword inert on her lap. Apparently some magic sword ladies got really sensitive about what others were wearing. Balancing the sword on her shoulder, she started walking and calling out to Adora.
#
Catra hacked her way back the skiff's route, trying not to think of Adora being eaten by a giant rainbow-winged bug. She noticed broken branches above. Going down on all fours, she was met by the sickly-familiar smell of Horde-brand military soap (if it's good enough for tanks, it's good enough for you!). Adora had been here, but so had two others (lilac soap, seriously?). There'd been a scuffle. Adora could usually beat those odds - unless she was hurt. She came across a golden arrow lodged in root. A flash of red caught her eye - Adora's jacket, silly oversized collar and all, still sporting the shiny Force Captain badge that should've been hers. Catra put it on and tied the sword to her back. If the bubble bath oil weren't enough the arrow settled it - these were Bright Moon agents. And they were going to pay.
The wood was dense but the captors hadn't made any effort to cover their tracks. The moon had risen by the time Catra saw the smoke and heard the explosions. A Rebel village was under attack by a Horde squadron. Leave it to Shadow Weaver to stick to the schedule even when her favorite and least favorite pupils were missing.
Whoever was in command was doing it by the book, effective but without flair. That is, until one tank fired on its allies, disabling the other two tanks in the section. Finally some worthy opposition.
The rogue tank was repositioning when Catra blocked its path and drew the sword. "For the honor of Grayskull, Rebel scum!"
Nothing happened. Had she said it wrong, somehow?
"Rendering 95% complete," Light Hope said a little too glibly.
"ETA?" Catra hissed, not wanting to detract from her pose.
"Calculating."
"Just load an old one," said Catra, watching the advancing tank. They sure looked more menacing from this end. "Even the playbunny one."
"Calculating."
The tank was upon her, it was jump or get crushed. Catra raised the sword and bellowed: "For the honor of…"
The tank stopped inches from her nose.
"96%," Light Hope said helpfully.
"Noted," Catra said dryly. She tensed as the turret hatch opened.
"Catra!" cried Adora, jumping out.
"Adora!" Of course she would've managed to escape. But why would she fire at…
"I don't understand," said Adora, "what are you doing here?"
"Duh, I came to find you!" Was that a flower in her hair? "What are you wearing?"
#
Catra couldn't believe it. Adora had known these people for hours, and she was throwing everything away - throwing her away - for them.
"What happened to you?" said Catra, fighting back tears.
"I…"
"Adora!" someone called from afar. In a burst of sparkles she was joined by an archer and a freaking Princess.
"The Horde's retreating," said the Princess, " we have to… who's this?"
"Horde soldier!" cried the archer, ensnaring Catra with a net-arrow. She groaned deeply at its heart-shaped weights.
"Wait!" cried Adora. "Let me explain!"
Catra had heard enough, she just needed to face the facts. The only way to avoid disappointment was to expect nothing from anyone. Why had she thought Adora would be different? Claws dug into her palm as she gripped the sword hilt, she should probably retract them at some point.
"100%," Light Hope chimed.
"For the honor of Grayskull," Catra said grimly.
Power coursed through her. Back in the Woods she'd been terrified, but now she was angry. She sank the blade into the ground, the shockwave demolishing what was left of the surrounding huts. The sword sliced through the tank barrel like paper. She grabbed it with her free hand and hurled it over her head as if it were, well, paper - she was the freaking Princess of Power, not Poetry, and she was going to make everyone hurt like she was hurting. But where were they? Had she accidentally… No, they had teleported to a hill, and the look of horror on Adora's face froze her spine. She wanted to call out, explain, apologize, somehow undo this terrible day and go back to how things used to be, were supposed to be, the two of them against the world.
Adora was gone. She was alone.
#
Catra stared at the sword as the village burned around her. All that power hadn't kept her from losing the only thing that mattered. If anything it had helped push it away.
"You are… in pain," someone said hesitantly.
Catra whirled, sword poised, came face to face with a giant beetle. Sword and jaw dropped.
"Apologies," said the beetle, "I did not mean to…"
"You can talk!"
"Yes," it said almost sheepishly. "Ever since our encounter."
Catra noticed the severed foreleg. "Oh, that giant beetle. I hadn't recognized…"
"That's fine," it said, "I think all humanoids look the same too."
"Do I call you... Beetle?"
"Should I call you Humanoid?"
"Catra."
"I have named myself Swftzxl, after the stridulation my kind make when it is time to fight over the females."
"Charming," said Catra. "Swifty it is. We'll talk about the importance of vowels later. What are you doing here?"
"Yesterday I was content if I had enough fungus to eat," said Swifty.
"Yum."
"Today my belly is full, yet I am not content. I must know: for what purpose was I endowed with reason?"
Catra burst out laughing.
"I fail to see the humor…"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" said Catra, trying to breathe.
Swifty refolded his rainbow wings impatiently.
"Thanks," said Catra, wiping a tear. "I needed that. Where did you learn things like endowed"?
"As with the rest of my vocabulary," Swifty said shortly, "I believe it came from yours."
"Almost makes me sound smart. I'll let you in on a secret," she whispered, hugging the giant chitin horn. "No one has a purpose. It's your life, do what you will. If a magic sword lady tries to tell you otherwise, ignore her."
"I was afraid that might be the case," Swifty said slowly. "Friend Catra, what have you chosen to do with yours?"
Catra wanted to make a flippant remark, but for once couldn't find any. "I have no idea. Just taking it a day at a time. Right now, I need to get back to the Zone."
"Would you like a ride?"
"I don't…" Actually she did need one, and there were worse ways to travel than giant rainbow-winged beetle. Like walking, walking would suck. "Sure, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's happened today."
"Hop on," said Swifty, kneeling awkwardly on five limbs.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"Not anymore," he said. "It was honorable territorial combat. All fungus and females in the area are now yours."
"Awesome," she said flatly. She held up the sword and whispered the words of her bondage.
Swifty flinched as she rested the blade on his stump. "C'mon, sword."
Nothing happened.
"Light Hope?" said Catra.
"You will unlock these powers in time," she replied.
"I've never been good at waiting," said Catra, cutting her palm and placing it on Swifty's wound.
Catra's palm healed. Swifty's leg did not.
"Thank you for trying," he said. "Good thing we come with redundancy, it's a wonder you can manage on two."
#
Catra felt significantly better once they were airborne. Come with me, Adora had said. Wasn't that all she wanted? No, not as an afterthought, not as a "guess you can come too". She was supposed to be the rebel, Adora the model student, that was their thing. Until it wasn't. She could still see that last look in her eyes.
"You are troubled," said Swifty.
"You can read my mind?"
"I can feel your heart," he said.
"Are all giant beetles this corny?"
"Mostly the talking ones."
Catra smiled despite herself.