Adora stared through the smoke at Catra. She stared into the eyes of her best friend, the girl she'd grown up with, spent her entire life with. She looked into eyes that for so many years held comfort for her, and saw they were filled with so many emotions. She saw fear, hurt, anger, confusion and resentment. Adora tried. She tried to understand why? If Catra knew that what the Horde was doing had been evil then why did she stay with them? Why didn't she run away? After all the awful abuses she'd suffered under Shadow Weaver was she really going to run back to them?
Adora froze for a moment at that. She looked around at Thaymor and blinked back tears as she realised the question she should have been asking wasn't why Catra had never left the Horde before now.
It was why Adora had never considered leaving when she saw her best friend being tortured.
She'd always believed that whatever the Horde did must have been worth it. That no matter how cruel Shadow Weaver was the Princesses were worse. But what goal could possibly have been worth all those nights she'd had to listen to Catra cry herself to sleep because she was in so much pain? What fate could have been worse than the grim reality of watching Catra's body convulse as Shadow Weaver sent pulses of red lightning through it?
She felt anger at herself. Anger and despair and fury at the stupidity of her naivete. She was dimly aware that she was crying; that she'd thrown the sword to the ground; that she could barely see Catra anymore. She let out a frustrated scream and pulled at her hair as she tipped forward onto her knees, before looking back up at Catra.
Catra's face was a mask of emotions she couldn't read as she wept openly. Adora reached out her hand to Catra, stretching her fingers out to her best friend.
"Catra," she managed to choke out. She didn't know what she was saying. But she felt it. Like there was something tangible in the air letting her know that this moment was important. That something profound would happen and that her and Catra were at a tipping point. Her actions here would push them one way or another.
"Catra," she said again, her voice so small in the quiet. She didn't know if Catra could hear her but she pressed on, eyes still streaming with tears, "Catra I… I can't go back there. Not now. I... The Horde… I can't fight for them not… not after this…" She blinked away her tears. "Not after what they did to… to you Catra." She sobbed. "I can't just watch them hurt you anymore Catra!"
The desperate nature of her plea hit her like a thunderbolt and her emotional resolve cracked. Her sobs came freely and she could barely keep her eyes up as she wept. Whether she wept for her own pain or for Catra's, she didn't know. But she knew that she'd revealed some part of her that had been buried for a long time. There was no way she could ever willingly go back to the Horde just to watch Shadow Weaver torture Catra anymore.
She was still reaching out with one hand to where she'd last seen Catra, her head resting on her chest as she continued to sob. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt fingertips brush her own for a brief moment. She looked up, still crying.
Catra was in front of her, her hand half raised as if she was unsure of what to do with it after having pulled back from grasping Adora's. She looked… uncomfortable? Was that it? Adora wasn't sure. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried in front of Catra. The last time she'd shown vulnerability before her. She swallowed.
"Please," she whispered. "Catra I… I can't. I can't watch them hurt you anymore." She tried to pour as much meaning into every word as she could. "Don't go Catra." She reached for Catra's half dropped hand and held it gently.
"Stay…"
Catra's breath caught in her throat as Adora said that and an unknowable emotion flitted across her face for a moment. Her eyes were shining for a second, as if she were about to cry too. Her lips parted to speak, before she took a deep, steadying breath. She fixed her trademark smirk on her face and knelt down in front of Adora, still holding her hand.
"You're such an idiot Adora," she chuckled, using her other hand to pull Adora into a tight embrace. "Like I'm really gonna go back to Shadow Weaver yelling at me."
Adora's sob turned into a laugh as she hugged Catra back, smiling into her shoulder. They knelt like that for a few minutes, hugging each other, Adora's sobs fading away, replaced by the gentle constant purring only the two of them could hear. Eventually Adora pulled away, wiping her eyes of her tears. She was still holding onto Catra's hand.
Catra let out a soft chuckle.
"What's so funny?" Adora managed to say, a little shakily.
"I'm just imagining the look on Shadow Weaver's face when she realises that neither of us are coming back to the Horde," Catra smirked, before settling back on her knees and adopting a dour expression and saying, in a passable impression of Shadow Weaver, "Ah Catra, I expected this type of degenerate disobedience from you. I should never have allowed you to be the one to reclaim Adora."
Adora laughed at the impression, then sneezed as Catra's tail flicked up to tickle under her nose. Catra snorted with laughter and Adora rolled her eyes as she got to her feet, still holding on to Catra.
"Come on Catra," Adora said smiling. "There's some people I need to introduce you to."
"Okay… So… so not only has a Horde officer been given magical powers and decided to defect from the Horde?" Glimmer was saying, almost pulling out her hair in frustration at the process. "But now we've also managed to convince her friend to switch sides as well?"
Catra snorted from where she was longing on the tree branch over the small clearing the four of them were seated in.
"Please, don't flatter yourself Sparkles," Catra chuckled. "You and Arrow Boy didn't do much of the convincing. It's all thanks to Adora that you've got this much badass with the Rebellion now."
"It's Glimmer, Horde Scum!" Glimmer practically screamed. She turned to Adora who was sat on a tree stump underneath Catra. "How can you trust her so easily?"
"She's my best friend Glimmer," Adora sighed, gazing pleadingly into Glimmer's eyes.
"She drove tanks into Thaymor!"
"And I'm sorry about that," Catra purred. At the sight of magic gathering in Glimmer's hands Catra sat up from where she was laid and held up her hands. "Okay okay cool the magic Sparkles. Look… for what it's worth I am sorry." She gripped her elbow nervously, casting her eyes down to the ground rather than look Glimmer in the face. "It… it doesn't make up for what I did. It really doesn't. I can't even pretend ignorance of what the Horde was doing like Adora can." She looked at Glimmer with a passionate plea. "But I can assure you however much you hate the Horde, I hate them just as much. For everything they put me through, I wanna make them hurt just as bad. So believe me when I say I'll do much worse to the Fright Zone than just run a few tanks through it."
Adora smiled up at Catra though she couldn't see it and leaned back on her hands. Hearing Catra talking about dismantling the Fright Zone made her feel so much more assured in what she was doing. It was the right thing to do. She looked across at Glimmer and Bow. Glimmer looked as though she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Bow on the other hand was looking contemplative.
"She's my best friend guys," Adora repeated, almost pleadingly. "I know better than anyone that she can be abrasive at times but she'd be a great asset to the Rebellion!"
"Aww sticking up from me Adora?" Catra swung on the branch so she was hanging upside down by her knees, smirking. "That's sweet that you think I need the help."
"Catra please don't make it harder than it already is to convince them you're a good person," Adora groaned. Catra gigged. Bow bumped Glimmer with his elbow, smiling as she whirled around on him.
"I think she at least deserves a chance Glimmer," Bow said. Glimmer stared at him for a few seconds before groaning in exasperation.
"Fiiiiiine," she groaned, turning to Adora. "Your Horde Scum friend can come to Brightmoon!"
"Yes!" Adora jumped up from her tree stump to hug the still hanging Catra, who promptly lost her grip on the tree, causing the two of them to crash to the floor in a heap laughing.
Glimmer sighed. "Just please no one tell my mom that the Horde soldier we're bringing back with us is the one who drove a tank over a house."
"Aren't you still grounded anyway?" Bow asked. Catra looked up as she and Adora got to their feet.
"What the heck is grounded?"
"Oh right, I forgot the two Horde kids are gonna have to be caught up on the lexicon, great," Glimmer sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, what happened to you when you got in trouble in the Horde?"
At this, Adora and Catra flinched. They looked away from Glimmer and each other.
"I mean… I wasn't really the one to… to get in trouble but…" Adora swallowed wetly. "I saw what happened enough."
"If you were lucky it was just limited ration supplies," Catra muttered. "But… I never was lucky. So it was always corporal punishment. Shadow Weaver used her magic on me. A lot. She'd make Adora watch sometimes."
Glimmer's frustration evaporated.
"They... They tortured you?" Bow whispered. Catra froze for a second at that and nodded stiffly.
"I was lucky if I got solitary confinement for a few days," she whispered. Glimmer swallowed.
"Right… well… grounded is like… that but… less being thrown in a prison cell more… I stay in my bedroom for a few days." Glimmer was awkwardly and obviously looking away from Catra and Adora. The concept of being grounded sounded so childish to be complaining about when compared to what Catra dn Adora had been subjected to. Another reason she could add to the list as to why she should hate the Horde.
"I mean that sounds like a pretty bad punishment," Adora chuckled stiffly. "Honestly Catra, the beds in Brightmoon are way too soft. There's no support like at all?"
"How bad are we talking?"
"It honestly felt like the bed was trying to swallow me," Adora laughed.
"Oh that is definitely gonna have to change," Catra sighed. "How am I supposed to sleep if you keep falling into the mattress?"
"We're not gonna get any sleep if we don't start making our way home soon gang!" Bow called.
"Right!" Glimmer nodded. She pressed her index fingers together as she muttered. "But… maybe we can hang back for a little bit longer? I need to figure out exactly what to tell me mom." An expression of deepest worry appeared on her face. "She's gonna be mad no matter what I can tell."
Catra bumped Adora with her tail. When Adora looked at her, Catra was smirking. "Imagine how mad Shadow Weaver's gonna be when she finds out what we did."
Shadow Weaver was furious.
A palpable aura of malice and anger radiated off of her in waves that sent cadets scurrying for their barracks as she stalked through the levels of the Fright Zone. Her hand reflexively clenched and unclenched into a tight fist. She should never have sent Catra to be the one to recover Adora. Of course Catra would fail. Now the Horde had lost a promising Force Captain and, as much as Shadow Weaver hated to admit it, an extremely capable cadet.
When she had informed Hordak of this news he had been… less than pleased. He'd sent Shadow Weaver from his chambers demanding that she do 'whatever it took' to make up for this drastic turn of events. If the Rebellion was going to start taking their soldiers and cadets now then it was high time that this war was won.
Whatever it took…
The words rang around Shadow Weaver's head as she descended down to the Maintenance barracks. Maintenance was considered a shameful detail to soldiers of the Horde. It was where you were sent to not cause trouble. It was were delinquents and dissidents were sent when they had crossed Hordak in the wrong way.
But down here Shadow Weaver knew there were soldiers that had been punished long enough for some slight against Hordak. Besides, any personal grudges Hordak may have held no longer mattered in the wake of his order.
He did say whatever it took.
So maybe crushing the Rebellion was about embracing the type of war that the Horde had abandoned when Hordak had sent the two of them down here.
She reached the maintenance barracks and stood in the doorway. She watched as the maintenance crew jumped to attention by their beds, waiting for her to speak. She peered around, eyes moving from face to face. She noted the two empty bunks at the far end of the room and her eyes narrowed.
"How can we help you ma'am?" asked one of the closest drones, a low rank on the maintenance crew. Her eyes flicked to the drone and she winced at the attention.
"Where are Nightshade and Whisper?" she asked in a low voice. The crew engineer cleared his throat.
"There was low pressure in one of the boilers ma'am. From the complaints we've had upstairs it sounds like a big plumbing fault. They've been working double time to get it fixed."
Shadow Weaver turned and swept from the room without another word, heading straight for the boiler room. As she did so she thought of the two she'd come down here to find, wondering what the two of them did to incur Hordak's ire to send them to the Maintenance Crew. Hordak had neve specified and she'd be dead before she stooped to actively asking the two of them what they were being punished for.
Nightshade. She remembered him fondly. In an ideal world he'd be a Force Commander by now and Adora would be one of his Captains. It would be a feat for him to be Force Commander Shadow Weaver knew, as he was only a few years older than Adora, but she knew that Nightshade had the skill. As it was however barely a year after he was promoted to Force Captain he'd been sent down here to rot.
Along with his cohort.
Whisper. Less fond memories came to Shadow Weaver now. She'd never actively hated Whisper in the same vein as she'd despised Catra, but Whisper was definitely one to try the line whenever he could. Pushing the limits of what he could get away with. But she could have seen Whisper becoming a Force Captain someday. Perhaps he still might be a Force Captain. He certainly had the wit for it, if only he could show the discipline.
She opened the door to the boiler room to be met with a blast of hot air and steam, which cleared after a moment. After the initial hiss of the hot air blowing past her she could hear voices coming from the misty depths.
"Alright, try it now?"
"Still low pressure. You reckon the underground spring is tapped?"
"Oh please do not put that thought into my head. No one up there is worth rerouting all that plumbing."
"Don't get me started. I'm almost ready to take a spanner to the next person who says they haven't had a hot shower for however many minutes."
Shadow Weaver ducked under a low hanging pie, scowling the entire time. The fact she had to come down here herself for this rather was causing her no end of frustration. The boiler room was a maze of haphazard pipe work, patch jobs and temporary fixes. She was however pleased to hear that, although they were vocalising great discontent with the situation, the two of them were running down all the possible faults in the boiler.
A silhouette appeared in the steam. Tall, lean, straight backed. Nightshade came into view through the mist. Shadow Weaver noted how different he appeared now that he wasn't wearing his Force Captain dress uniform. He was in black cargo pants and toolbelt with a greasy, oil stained tank top. His dark brown hair had grown to the degree he had taken to tying it in a ponytail, something that would not have been permitted as a Force Cadet. She couldn't see his eyes, dark green she knew, but they appeared to be looking down at a laminated checklist.
There was a clang of metal as a second figure jumped down from some level overhead. Whisper was much the same as Nightshade, though he had scorned the tank top in favour of exposing his body to the warmth of the boiler room, showing off the lean muscle in his torso and arms. His dirty blonde hair was untidy but still within the regulations for a cadet. His piercing blue eyes looked over Nightshade's shoulder as Shadow Weaver approached, and he stepped to attention as she did so. Nightshade looked over his shoulder at her and did the same.
"Ma'am," Nightshade said, his arm twitching as though about to salute. "Apologies if the hot water isn't up to temperature in your quarters. We're narrowing down the list of possible faults."
"Your concern is appreciated Nightshade," Shadow Weaver replied, "Though unwarranted. The water in my quarters is fine. Hot water is not why I came down here."
Whisper's eyebrow quirked up but he said nothing. Nightshade's features remained impassive.
"What brings you down to the boiler room ma'am if I may ask?" he said. Shadow Weaver took a step towards the two of them.
"You," she replied simply, eyes looking into Nightshade's before she flicked them over to Whisper. "Both of you." She turned around to face back to the door. "You may remember a certain cadet, Adora?"
"Yes ma'am," Nightshade replied.
"Top marks on the hazard room, near flawless on the threat assessment exam, excellent leadership qualities, most likely to be Force Captain in her troop?" Whisper asked to confirm. Shadow Weaver had to silently commend him for recalling those details. He'd been a junior assessor for Adora's troop when they'd been in their exams.
"You are correct Whisper," Shadow Weaver muttered.
"What about her?" Nightshade asked, slowly, almost confused. Shadow Weaver's hands curled into fists.
"She has been… influenced by radical pro-rebellion propaganda and by a less than commendable cadet." She paused and growled. "She has… been led astray. She has not returned to the Horde."
There was a pause.
"Ma'am with all do respect this doesn't have anything to do with maintenance," came Nightshade's almost hopeful voice. Shadow Weaver smiled to herself.
"In light of these events, Hordak has requested that we do whatever it takes to finish this rebellion." She turned around, looking down at Nightshade. "In light of that… I believe your tour of maintenance has come to an end." Her eyes turned to Whisper. "Both of you."
She held out her hand to Nightshade, revealing what she had been clutching this entire time. The badge of a Force Captain. Nightshade's eyes widened at the sight of it and Whisper visibly licked his lips. Nightshade looked in Shadow Weaver's eyes, hardly daring to believe what was happening.
"Are you serious ma'am?" He barely managed to breathe the question.
"I am not one to joke Force Captain Nightshade," she replied simply. Whisper looked at his friend, a hungry look in his eyes as Nightshade gently clasped the badge in one shaking hand. When it seemed he was sure Shadow Weaver wasn't planning to sntahc it back from him, he clasped it tightly and looked up, fire in his eyes now.
"What are you orders ma'am?" he asked, his voice clipped and professional. A ready to serve officer back at his post. Shadow Weaver's smile was sickly behind her mask.
"Crush the Rebellion."