Teela's eyes fluttered open and she jolted up from her pillow, grimacing at the cold line of drool on her cheek. She leaned out from her bunk to squint up at the digital clock at the front of the barracks. She saw 0715 Hours in bright green letters. Thirty minutes til reveille. She planted her face in the pillow and growled at the stinging feeling in her tired eyeballs.
She didn't mind always waking up early but she wanted to stop panicking when she did so. Why did her body always think it was late? She turned and glared up at the clock.
A little cartoon of a Horde Trooper gave her a thumbs-up from the poster underneath it. 'Trooper Terry is always punctual!' The military hours were listed underneath with their equivalent time zones across Etheria.
'Did you know?' Trooper Terry asked her from the poster's corner. 'It's already tomorrow in The Kingdom of Snows?' Yes. Cadet Teela knew that. She'd known that since she'd first seen the poster after her squad moved into Barracks 88 of the North-Western Wing when they were all six years old. She pressed her face into the soft, but not too soft, pillow and let herself stop breathing for a minute because it was something to do.
Someone yawned and rolled over to snuggle against their mattress. Lucky. They could go back to sleep but Teela never managed that. She coughed a little as she breathed again and then slid out of bed. The concrete floor gave her bare feet a shock of cold. She stood there, wiggling her toes in the dark, thinking about how tired she felt. How her hair needed to be combed. How her teeth needed brushing.
She'd be dressed, neat and proper, with her hair tucked behind her hairband, her teeth white, her pant legs tucked inside her boots. She'd make her bed in the dark and be standing by the foot of it when Den-Sergeant Morgan arrived. Same as always.
She wanted to go back to sleep. But she wouldn't. Couldn't. So, she opened her drawer to get out her toiletries and was surprised by a small, folded up piece of scrap paper that hadn't been there at lights-out the night before. Teela glanced suspiciously around at the bunk beds but no-one stirred like they were watching her.
She unfolded the paper carefully and found a series of numbers written in quick handwriting. '20-5-5-12-1. 14-15-2-15-4-25 12-9-11-5-19 25-15-21.' It was code. Like they'd been learning about in the Academy. A simple sequence, she guessed, numbers-for-letters.
She found herself smiling a little at the unexpected challenge and glanced around again to see if there was some hint of who might've left it for her. She'd seen some of the others playing with code, spelling out bad words in chalk on the Academy black-top or leaving their names on spots where nobody would find them.
She scrunched up her face in thought. Twenty-six letters. 'A' is number one. She fished around in her things and pulled out a stubby pencil. Using a pinky to swipe her red bangs out of her eyes, she decoded.
"5. 'E'. 20-E-E-12-A." She grinned. "Teela." She smirked as she got twenty-five right away. "Y. Right before 26. 21 is…" she counted softly, "U. That word is 'you'." She almost giggled in excitement. This was easy. "And that's 'L' in the…"
'Teela, nobody likes you.'
Her cheeks burned hot with anger and she crushed the paper into a ball between her hands. She hopped up from her drawer, feeling all twisted up like she had springs tightening in her belly. It was a stupid, immature joke and she was going to sock whoever did it right in their mouth.
She scrambled up the iron rungs to the top-bunk and shook the bundle of blankets at the top. Two yellow, black-pupiled eyes peeled open. A little green-skinned boy smacked his lips and scratched at his scalp, ruffling his bone-white hair.
"Huh? Teela, what's up?" He yawned. Teela uncrumpled the paper and jammed it into his sleepy face.
"Did you see someone put this in my locker, Avery?" she hissed at him. The other Cadet tried to move without sitting up or leaving his blanket. He squinted at it and shuffled a hand around to produce a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. He popped them on and looked at the paper.
"Teela-" he started to read aloud, she ripped the paper away with a snarl. Teela knew Avery didn't like her because she scared him.
"I didn't say read it, dummy," Avery cowered back into his blankets, "I asked you-" A shape moved to her right and Teela glanced over to the top-bunk across from them. Roja had sat up and was making a little hissing noise that slithered through the quiet barracks. The snake-clan girl was covered in red scales and she was bigger than Teela in height, arms, and shoulders.
Teela looked down, not in fear, but in a sudden, frustrating rush of shame. Roja didn't like her because Avery was afraid of her. But she wasn't even doing anything this time. It wasn't fair!
"Ssstep off, Teela," Roja hissed when she was mad, "leave Avery alone."
"I was just asking a question," Teela said, "I wasn't hurting him." Then, out of anger, she snapped. "Not my fault he's such a big baby."
"I'm not," Avery mumbled, eyes big and sad behind his glasses.
"Shut uuuuuuuuuup," Bobby whined. Roja turned towards his bunk, flaring her scaly lips to show off a pair of ivory fangs. Teela ducked her head, hoping no-one would wake up. She didn't want whoever left her that mean note to know she was upset by it.
"Never mind," she said, "it's not important."
"She has a note or something," Avery said, trying to placate his big friend.
"A note? Why'd she ask you?" Teela leaned out on the bunk ladder, baring her teeth at Roja. She hated when people talked about her like she wasn't there.
"I asked Avery," Teela raised her voice, not caring if anyone heard, hoping that they did, "because he can read, Roja, unlike you!" The other Cadet's reptilian pupils shrank and she sprang up onto her mattress, long red tail whipping the air behind her. She was dressed in a gray t-shirt and shorts just like Teela's. The ten-year-olds glared at each other.
"Take I back what you jussssssst ssssaid," Roja hissed, something in her voice was angry and desperate, "or I'll punch you into next week!"
"Come down here and make me!"
"Shut-up!" Bobby yelled. The other Cadets began groaning. At Bobby, Roja, and Teela.
"Stop," Avery said, still cocooned in his blankets, "you guys don't hafta fight."
"She started it," Roja and Teela said as one.
Teela hopped off the later, bare feet clapping on the floor as she landed, deft as a young doe. She whispered up at the other girl. "You want to fight me again, Roja? Come find me at Free Period after lunch. Don't worry, Avery, can remind you how clocks work too."
"Think your ssssso tough," Roja burrowed back into her blankets, hissing at Teela as she strode by towards the washroom. "Think your sssssso ssssssmart!" Teela felt Bobby glaring at her and she paused to lean into the space of his lower bunk. She kicked the mattress between his feet, making him jolt back against the wall, suddenly wary.
"You ever tell me to shut-up again, Bobby, and I'll go catch some of those big, mutant cockroaches down by the Chem Depot. The ones that glow in the dark." She stepped in, hissing at him. "You'll find them in your bunk, in your drawer, in your boots. Got it?"
"Y-you don't scare me, Teela."
"But big glowy bugs scare you, don't they, Bobby?" She gave him a mean smile and marched like a conquering warlord into the barracks washroom. The walls were wan pink, faded from red over the decades. Trooper Terry had her surrounded.
'Do you know most armies suffer more casualties from disease than enemy weapons? Hygiene is your best defense!' She splashed water on her face and wetted her bright red hair, turning it a dark, shiny copper.
'Trooper Terry brushes three times a day!' As she scrubbed her molars, not too hard and not too soft, Teela wondered how Trooper Terry did that without taking their helmet off. Terry, as far as she knew, had no face.
'Trooper Terry wants you to seize the day and make it a good one, soldier.' She straightened her hair with a few swipes of her comb, careful of the little sleepy tangles in them. Her face twisted into a snarl a second later and she wanted to break the glass in front of her.
Nice doesn't win a war. She cast her eyes around the empty washroom. Friends don't win a war.
"'Nobody likes you'," she scoffed to the mirror, "who cares? Not me."
Cadet Teela walked back to her bunk and changed from her PJs into her uniform. She laced up her boots, over-under-loopity-loop, and took her headband out from its hiding place when she was sure the other Cadets were asleep. She uncrumpled the paper again and resisted the urge to rip it up. She'd find out who sent it later and get payback.
She made her bed and stood, hands clasped behind her back, at attention with a few minutes to spare. She heard the hitched, limping gait of her Den Sergeant approaching the barracks and shut her eyes a second before the day-fluorescents flickered to life and the scratchy speakers played a hooting trumpet. She rolled her eyes at the way her squadmates grumbled, groaned, and groused.
"Rise and shine," Den-Sgt. Morgan said as she stepped into the room, "another glorious day in Lord Hordak's army." The Cadets scrambled, bleary-eyed and befuddled, into a shambling version of attention at the foot of their bunks. "Tram leaves for the Academy when, my little Hordelings?"
"At 0850, ma'am!" The Cadets chorused.
"And it waits for no-one," she reminded them, as she did every morning, "so if you haven't tied your shoes by 0850 you go barefoot. You ain't brushed your teeth you go with bad breath. You didn't finish your breakfasts in the Cadet mess? You go hungry." She offered Teela a smile. "No reward for first place in the corps, Teela."
"No, ma'am," she replied, fist tightening behind her back, crinkling the note into a tight wad.
"Adam," Catra said, "just stop messing with it." She shooed his hand away from the fringes of his hair. Adam frowned at her and started to pluck at the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt. Catra knelt and took his hands in hers, giving him a little scowl. "Cut it out. Seriously."
"Hmmpf!" Adam stuck out his lip.
"Oh, would you grow up! You look-" Catra gave him a once over and snorted a little, "like a total dweebis but that's the point." Adam broke away from her and mimed pulling a hood over his head and Catra responded with their little sign for 'later'. "Later, Adam. You gotta blend in and be good today." Adam scuffed his shoe against the tram station platform and pouted. Catra rolled her eyes at the boy's obstinate silence but shooed him along without more scolding. They descended several flights of concrete stairs, caged in by the intricate framework of iron supports that held the tram station up.
"Come on, you can't tell me you're not a little curious about his place? You're curious about everything. I had to pull you away from vending machine earlier." Adam tried to feign indifference, but he couldn't stop a little gasp of wonder as they stepped free of the stairwell and beheld the campus of Horde Academy.
Taking up almost a quarter of the Northwestern Wing's acreage was a place Catra had thought safely within her past nearly three years ago. At the hub of the giant, open-sky space was a neat regiment of concrete buildings, thirteen in total, arranged in rows like a cemetery filled with the tombstones of giants.
"One for each year," she said to Adam, "starting at age six when you go there," she pointed at Building 01, which was as unchanged as any of its siblings. A brief memory stirred as she looked at the huge, blocky red letters on it.
She was six and it was their first day. She was squeezing Adora's hand tight as they walked towards the huge buildings and she wanted to go home. Not the strange, unfamiliar barracks they'd been billeted in a for a little under two weeks, but the place where they'd lived since they were babies. The warm, quiet, and secluded world of the Cradle.
Her memories of the Cradle were hazy but, strangely, pleasant. It was farthest away from the smog-choked skies that plagued most of the Fright Zone, situated along the gulf-stream of the Sea of Sighs. She remembered those adults who worked there weren't the faceless soldiers who haunted the hallways of her childhood but soft-spoken memories of scarred, smiling faces. She recalled a woman with one arm holding her against a soft white smock.
She shook her head and realized Adam had wandered to the rolling greenery that began right off the long stone avenue stretching towards the Academy campus. He reached out a tentative hand rubbed his palm over the grass then frowned and straightened up. He stuck out his tongue and kicked at it, looking miffed.
"Sorry, booger," Catra snickered, "that stuff is all astro-turf. Fake as it gets." She glanced at the distant iron archway that stood between them and their destination. In tall letters it reminded her, as it had every day when she was Cadet:
"Remember. You are the future of the Horde. Behave like it." While the ten-year-old wasn't looking, Catra made a rude gesture at it. Then she tapped Adam on the head, fixed his hair, and moved him along. When they drew closer to the buildings Catra pointed past them to an area close to the western-most part of the huge campus. Small mountains of gravel and bare rock rose from a field of churning mud. Figures in black armor trudged up a winding pathway that twisted up towards a hastily built Potemkin castle.
"See? It's not really a building. The back is all open." From a rampart of the 'castle', an instructor was peering down at the advancing soldiers. A construction crane blasted water over them; the vehicle it was anchored to was hidden behind some part of the fake mountain-pass. A heavy downpour of 'rain' was pelting the valiant Cadets and before long they began slipping down the uneven, muddy slope.
"The Battle-Field," she said, "they change it up every six months to train Cadets for different campaigns. They're training to attack Dryl right now." She shivered a little as she watched the Cadets crashing into each other and making a pile of wriggling black limbs in the mire.
"Catra?" Adam asked, noting her discomfort.
A boot stepped into the earth by her head and her gold eye closed tight against a splash of freezing slime. It clung to her face and she nearly slipped onto her stomach. Her arms and legs were burning but she'd barely done twelve push-ups. The armor was heavy on her torso and her body trembled from the weight.
"You still owe me twenty-eight, Cadet," a rough male voice said, "and if you slip we start right back over." Eleven pairs of boots passed through her peripheral vision at a jog until one set slowed and turned. "There a problem, Cadet Adora?"
"N-no! I mean…no, sir, Sergeant Blast!" The sergeant's gloved fist scrubbed roughly at Catra's cheek and she bit back a hiss.
"Get back to drills then. Your squaddie will learn to keep her equipment on til the end of instruction if it kills her. Bet you miss that helmet now, Cadet Catra."
She didn't. It was hot and claustrophobic. Her feet skidded inside her boots and the smooth gloves gave her none of the purchase the calloused pads of her hands did. She was better on her own, doing things her way. In her anger, her back dipped an inch out of place and she corrected herself. She wasn't fast enough for the Sergeant to miss it.
"Cadet Adora," Blast snapped, "help your squaddie with her push-ups." Adora faltered and Catra hated her briefly. If she'd kept her head down and kept drilling…a boot touched her shoulder blades, feather-light one moment, then heavy as regret.
"We start over," Blast said, "count-off, Cadet Adora." Catra's muscles burned as she began to push herself off the ground.
"One for Lord Hordak!" Adora counted. Thirty-nine left to go.
Catra eyed the central administration building and hesitated. She'd hated the Academy as a kid. She considered the little blonde-haired boy who'd fallen into her life. He'd crouched down to scrutinize the turf and his face twisted up in a kind of concentration that seemed achingly familiar. Catra thought, not for the first time, how strangely like Adora he looked.
"Guess I at least did a good job disguising you then," she said.
"Ah?" Adam turned, tilting his head.
"So listen," she kept her eyes forward, refusing the old memories the campus dredged up, "you're smart. You learn quick. But there's stuff I can't teach you that you need. Reading. Math. How to spell. Basic stuff." She shrugged. "Adam, I want you to understand what I'm saying to you and that way you can…y'know, carry out orders the right way."
"Orrrrrr-derrrrs?" He cocked his head. Catra blew air through her teeth and moved him through the doorway of Building 00. The first floor was sectioned off into a lobby, a supplies dispensary, and the sergeants' mess. A trooper with an eyepatch sat behind the reception desk and looked up from a binder, glancing between Catra and Adam.
"I need to see the Colonel," Catra said, "let him know he's got a visitor." The trooper's mouth twisted at the edge.
"Wanna try that again, Cadet?" she growled, "Maybe start off with your name, barracks, and Den-Sergeant. And don't forget 'ma'am' when you're speaking to a…" Catra rolled her eyes and unclipped her badge from her belt. The trooper's single eye widened, and her face went gray. "Uh…sorry, ma'am, I didn't realize-"
"Just open the stairwell door, nitwit," Catra snapped. The Corporal swallowed and nodded back outside.
"The Colonel's not in, ma'am, he's overseeing a Close-Quarters-Combat Session with Squad 12-45 behind Building 12." Catra recoiled, a humorless laugh bursting from her mouth.
"Granger? The old guy who could barely smack a ruler on across a kid's knuckles three years ago? He used to get winded screaming in my face."
"Uh, Colonel Granger was transferred two years back, ma'am. A heart condition. Colonel-"
"Ugh! Whatever!" Catra pinched the bridge of her nose. She did not need any more wrinkles in her plans. Granger was an old, broken-down war machine with more lights burnt-out than glowing but he was more devoted to the idea of the Force Captains than Adora had been. She'd counted on flashing her badge, making a few requests, and getting Adam the least-awful instructor she could dig up.
Fine. She thought. I can deal with this. Some other old-person has the job. Big deal. I'm smarter than any of them. She turned around and found Adam staring at the giant symbol of the Horde marked out in the gold tiles against the black floor. She snapped her fingers and pointed towards the door.
She'd already had enough of the Academy and the five-minute addition to her walk day wasn't making her nostalgic. There were multiple squads outside, sweltering at their instructions, even though Autumn had begun a week prior. A result of the smog from the industrial heart of the Fright-Zone trapping moisture in the valleys. Before, when the sea wasn't hidden by the walls, Catra guessed there was a wonderfully cool air current.
The youngest kids she saw were nine-years-old but they weren't visibly asked to do much more than learn to worm-crawl on the astro-turf. Still, their chubby-cheeked faces were bright red with the heat, and she knew a few of them had to be on the verge of giving up. If they were lucky their Sergeant would be kind enough to ease on punishments.
The older children had more burdens, literally. Fully encased in black-armor, teenaged Cadets ran circuits around buildings, weighted down further by bulging black knapsacks and war-gear. Adam yipped when one of the Cadets crashed onto the ground a few feet ahead of them. He darted over on reflex to shake Catra's arm, indicating what happened and, she supposed, that they should help. Catra pulled him away as the rest of the fallen Cadets squad stopped and their Sergeant began haranguing the struggling kid at the top of his voice.
"It's just the heat, booger," she said, "they'll be fine. Or they won't. Who cares? Don't get involved. Their Sergeant will just drive them harder." Building 12 had the largest concentration of outdoor maneuver-spaces bunched up around it. The pair arrived in time to see two armored squadrons scream and charge each other, blunted training spears leveled to connect. A Sergeant's voice halted them at the last second and began enumerating mistakes in both spear-lines.
"Adam, come on." The kid was getting distracted by everything. They approached a ring of Year-12 Cadets kneeling around a square platform rising slightly off the turf. On it, a Cadet stood at attention, her face trembling with emotion, as a one of her squadmates was hurled against the platform face-first. The fallen Cadet muffled a howl of pain between his hands, clasping his nose just as Catra's nostrils twitched at the smell of blood.
The eighteen-year-old's opponent walked forward at a slow, leisurely pace, boots thunking against the platform like a hammer on a coffin. His back was to Catra, exposing a muscular figure some six-feet tall with a bald-shaven head. He rolled up the red sleeves of his trooper-casuals to reveal tanned arms corded with muscle. She noted a spot under his left ear where the skin was rippled with bubbled scarring like pink wax.
The man's foot darted out and touched boy's unprotected stomach. The Cadet moaned and rolled over, crumpling into a fetal ball, and coughed wetly. The other Cadet, the one trying hard not to speak, straightened up as the man turned to her. Sgt. Blast still wore a stupid little goatee, interrupted at the left cheek by a long finger of burn scarring.
"See?" Blast raised his voice to address the whole squad. "He'll guard his belly and his ribs next time he curls up. The next time he falls he'll try to land so he doesn't end up on his face. Pain is instruction." His hand snapped out and smacked the girl's temple sharply. "Is this making sense now, Cadet Eva?"
"Yes, sir," the girl said, swallowing the words.
"You hold back in training and he will die in a battle," he said, "if you really care about your squaddie, Cadet Eva, you beat him until he passes out. You won't kill him when he's down and that is the one mercy he's allowed. Anything more is just aiding the Rebels." Blast turned his narrow brown eyes on the rest of the squad. "You will all run the Battle-Field tomorrow during Free Period. When you get into Basic a few short months from now, I want this squad to be model soldiers. Understand me, Cadets?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" The teens shouted. Blast squatted next to his victim and tugged at the boy's ear.
"Sir, yes, sir…" he gasped.
"Get your legs under you, Cadet Lee," Catra heard him hiss, "you better believe I'm not letting anybody help you get up. And if Sergeant Ten-Bones reports you were tardy to Armor Workshop I will personally make your life a misery." He stood and yelled. "All, dismissed! Horde Cadets, to whom do you swear allegiance?" The teens smartened up and saluted.
"All hail Lord Hordak!" They shouted by way of finishing their lesson. Catra almost felt the urge to join them despite herself, so ingrained was her instinct to avoid punishment for silence during dismissal. Instead, she kept quiet, watching as the boy crawled, then hunched to his feet, and then limped after his squad.
"I hate you!" Catra growled up at the man above her. Adora gasped, her boot moved a fraction of Catra's lower back. Blast crouched, frowning at her, the rainwater trickling through his scars shined in the floodlights overhead.
"You hate me 'what', Cadet Catra?" Catra snarled at him through her misery.
"I hate you, sir."
"Still beating up, children, huh, Sarge?" The man's shoulders tensed and then he laughed. The same dry, amused laugh she remembered. Like he'd just understood a bad joke. He turned bearing a slim, superior grin she wanted to shatter with a kick.
"Well-well-well," he said, "look who's come back to visit their old teacher. You'll bring an old soldier to tears, kitty-cat." His eyes sliced towards Adam. "Boy, you where you're supposed to be? Probably not judging by that guilty look on your face."
"Don't talk to him," Catra said, advancing, "as a matter of fact, Blast, shut your mouth unless it's to tell me where the Colonel is." She snatched up her badge and held it out like it would exercise an evil spirit. "And I'll take a 'yes, Force Captain' for your answer."
Blast's bushy eyebrows moved up his lined forehead and he smiled, genuinely repressing mirth in a way that made her furious. He shook his head, muttered and laughed to himself, then slid a badge from his pocket.
"Don't want to risk it falling off into the turf," he said amicably, affixing the silver batwings to his shirt, "now…what was it you wanted to know, Catra?" Her face was on fire and her heart had plummeted into her stomach. Blast flicked his badge so it glinted once in the daylight.
"I'm no Sergeant anymore. Understand? I'll take a 'yes, Colonel Blast' as an answer."
Teela saluted the Sergeant as she walked into the education-room, a concrete box like every other room in Building 04. She was still grumpy about the note.
"Well," an ancient, whistling voice greeted her, "don't look so happy to see me, Cadet Teela." Teela slid into her usual seat the corner of the first available table, right at the front.
"Sorry, sir," she said, half to herself. The others marched in, saluted, and took their own spots. Avery ended up next to her, trying not to look her way. Roja sat beyond him and leaned forward a little so her tail laid comfortably behind the bench.
"Hmmm," the Sergeant hummed, "well, I guess I'll have to cheer you all up with some Razor-Toothed Gravel Worms." Around her, eleven heads popped up in surprise. Teela simply rested her chin against her fists, glancing out the tinted windows and watching a trio of figures walk by far below her.
"Let's get into it, Cadets," the sergeant squawked, "Dryl is a mountains region with few enough creatures in it but it is the only place on Etheria where one mighty beastie lurks underneath the rocks. We got a few videos here…" Teela turned her attention to the front of the class, she couldn't let her grades slip after all. She was a Future Force Captain. All the unfairness and, she hoped, even the loneliness would prove worth it when she finally had the badge pinned to her chest.
That'll show them, she thought, nobody'll mess with me then.
The Colonel's office hadn't changed much with its new occupant but, somehow, Catra could feel that it had become meaner. The concrete was paler, the two huge windows admitted less light, and the high-backed swivel chair was a more ominous shade of black. Blast slammed a drawer shut on the wall of filing cabinets and flipped through folder, whistling a marching tune as he made his way back to his desk.
"Here we are," he said to himself, "'Rules Regarding Special Instruction'." He rested the heel of one boot atop his desk and crossed his ankles. Catra stood in front of him, keeping her tail from flickering too much in a display of annoyance. Here was one change that was pure Rio Blast; he'd gotten rid of the chairs meant for visitors. The Colonel read for a minute before speaking. "Seeing a long list of exceptions here, Force Captain, but not a single word about 'one-on-one instructions and tutoring'. Where'd this idea come from anyway?"
"Adora got extra tutoring," Catra said flatly, "weekly one-on-one instructions on strategy, training sessions with the top Combat Sergeants, and trips to observe formations in Basic. I'm pretty sure she even got to fire a perimeter cannon when we were like 11." Catra's careful eyes, trained to notice the little flickers of emotion in people, saw Blast's jaw clench for a second as his careful demeanor slipped.
"Adora, I remember her. Joined at the hip with you." Catra flashed her teeth briefly at the distracted man. "Adora was a special case. I recall. A lot of promise. Or so we were told." Catra nodded to her right, where another blue-eyed blonde waited, head cocked to hear and understand their words.
"Adam here has all her potential and none of the baggage," Catra said, "you should've seen him when I first took him under my wing. New arrival. Barely said a word." Blast, without looking up snapped out at the boy.
"Cadet Adam, please describe to me the shape a wedge formation takes." Adam jumped at being addressed so abruptly. "No? Alright, how many soldiers are left from a squad of ten if three get sent on a supply run?" Adam looked up at Catra, dark eyebrows meeting in confusion. Blast shot her a look too. "Cadet Adam, what's your name?"
Adam looked over and tapped his chest.
"Adam." Blast leaned back in his chair and clapped very slowly. Catra thought every crude word she knew in his direction but otherwise did not react.
"So," she said, "you can see why I need to set up training for him. Not my fault the Horde takes everybody they find."
"In fact, it is your fault in this instance, I believe," Blast tossed the folder onto his desk, lacing his fingers behind his bald head, "your plan. Catra, certain intel is passed out around the leadership here, we are a military force after all. What was it?" He looked up at the ceiling, rocking from side-to-side in his chair. "General Alert: Magic-User on supervised liberty in general population. Blonde hair, blue eyes, roughly ten-years-old. Answers to the name-"
"Adam!" Adam chirped, grinning at Catra for answering so quickly. Blast gave him a look of clear, unclouded contempt. His lip curled so that his scars flexed unpleasantly, and he gave the general impression of man realizing the dark spot on his floor is a stinkbug. Catra feigned indifference, scrambling to recover from what, in retrospect, should've been an obvious fact.
"It's need-to-know," she said, "and it's not important either way. Adam is no danger to anybody." Blast opened his mouth and Catra jumped on his question. "No, sir, I can't explain to you why because that's classified." She enjoyed far too much how he grimaced at that. "But my orders from Lord Hordak himself were to make Adam an effective soldier."
"An effective soldier," Blast said back to her, almost mimicking her voice, "is the careful result of rigorous training supervised by talented sergeants. The standard for which I have cultivated at this Academy far longer than the two years I've been entrusted to command it." Catra really didn't want to have this conversation but she sighed and went on.
"Adora-"
Blast surged forward in a second, untucking his legs and slamming both hands onto his desk to rise to his full height.
"Adora is a traitor!" Catra stepped back and Adam followed her. Blast took a deep breath cleared his throat. "Adora was the result of time misspent and resources wasted. Not a great example of what you're asking me for, Force Captain." He gave Adam another curl of his lip. "Now get that thing off my campus before he gives someone rabies."
"Colonel," Catra said after collecting herself, "I understand you hold the power here."
"And that burns you right up doesn't it, kitty-cat," Blast cut in, "it gets right to the roots of your nerves that you can't swagger your scrawny behind back here and order your old Sergeant around."
"I am thinking," Catra said, keeping an even tone, "about the Horde. About the future of our army."
"The future of this army," Blast said, "has and always will be upheld by its backbone; the Horde Trooper. No magic. No special treatment. Grit, guts, and good training." Catra was about to snap, her patience had been left somewhere in her bed this morning, when Blast kept talking. Catra, her sharp mind starting to work, chose to follow a sudden instinct to listen. "There are two thousand Cadets in Year 12. That's the largest crop of soldiers going into Basic we've had since we sent King Micah into his royal grave."
"Catra?" Adam whispered. She shushed him. Blast's chair crashed against the filing cabinet as he kicked it out of his way. He turned an open palm at the campus outside his window.
"Next year we'll have that number plus five-hundred graduating out." He flipped his hand to point at himself. "I have been 'personally ordered' by Lord Hordak to draw up plans for a new admin building so we can turn this one into an overflow spot for more instruction space." He leaned on the desk again, eyes glinting at Catra. "Twenty-seven of the first Cadets with my signature on their Basic Admission forms were awarded special commendations for their actions at the siege of Elberon over the summer. Fresh out of Basic!"
Catra didn't let her growing sense of triumph appear on her face. She couldn't kowtow or flatter Rio Blast into doing what she wanted. But flattery had never been her style anyway. She wasn't a people-pleaser like Adora and Blast wasn't a person easily pleased.
But he loved proving people wrong. Ok, Sarge, you want a reunion with your least favorite student? Here she comes, ready or not.
"Congratulations," she said, rolling her eyes to provoke, "surely you and not every other instructor they had can claim credit for that city we held onto for five days."
"You haven't changed even a little," Blast said, more victorious than angry, "you are just like that traitor friend of yours. Only difference is you don't have the guts to desert." Blast marched smartly around his desk to loom over her. "I put up with Shadow Weaver's little pet project with you two because Granger did whatever she wanted." Catra tried not to react to that indictment. "I will not take away time from the real business of raising this army so her left-over student can try to do this twice. With a stinking magic-user no less!"
"You're not seeing the potential," Catra warned with a slight sing-song.
"I see exactly how much potential your idea has," his head twisted towards Adam, "and that's why I say 'no'." Point made; Colonel Blast turned back to his desk to collect the papers into a neat pile. "That boy isn't worth a single day of this Academy's training."
"Prove it."
Blast laughed once.
"I'm serious, sir," Catra said. Blast nodded absently, paying her no mind. "One day." Blast shot her a glare that said 'be serious and get lost' but Catra only offered a smug grin in return. "If you don't think your staff can handle it…"
"Oh, that's no issue," Blast turned on her, "they haven't made the Cadet I can't control, little girl, don't you ever think otherwise." Catra shrugged.
"What have you got to lose by trying? Here's the deal," she nodded towards Adam, "I can guarantee he won't tear down any buildings or stuff like that. Now, I may not know everything in this folder," she plucked it from him, ignoring the way he tensed up, "but right…here." She turned a page around. "'13th Cadet'. Catchy. 'In case of potential transfers between squads it is permissible to assign a candidate to a new squad for a day to gauge preparedness…in essence adding a '13th Cadet' added to the normal roster.'" She handed the paper back to him.
"He wouldn't last three minutes," Blast spat.
"Then we'd be out of your hair before lunch," she grinned up at his bald head, having far too much fun, "or…y'know out your way." A thick, calloused finger nearly jabbed into her nostril.
"You think I'll let you play protector for this kid all day? Disrupt my Sergeants at their duties?" Catra realized she'd have to give a little bit to get anything. It would be fine. Adam could survive five hours amongst the Cadets. Kids could be awful, how she knew kids could be downright vicious, but Adam could get away with throwing a punch or two. He'd faced worse.
"He'll be on his own," Catra said, "you really think I've got time to chase him around? I'm a Force Captain, Colonel, I'm busy." Blast scowled at her but he didn't refuse. "You think your way is so much better? Here's your chance. If Adam, with all the patience and smarts he has now, can breeze through a few hours of the day…you'll discuss tutoring him."
"And when he can't make it an hour without biting someone," Blast said, "he's mine." Catra claws pricked her arms but she hid the flinch of pain. "He gets assigned a barracks. A squad. He goes through it without your help or interference. I'll make it easy on you and even tell Lord Hordak it was my idea to do it and you agreed."
Catra knew what she was doing was dangerous. She was gambling away the kid's future again. Adam's face was scrunched-up in concentration as he tried, tried so hard, to understand their words by sheer will. There was a chance in that small, deceptively scrawny boy to prove something to everybody. To Blast. To Shadow Weaver. To, especially, Adora. Catra could beat them all at their own games. She could be the better student, the better soldier, the better mentor. She didn't like putting him in situations like this, in fact she hated it a little. But whatwere her options?
Every second you don't have your sword you aren't safe, she thought, not completely. I can't protect you, Adam, not the way you might want me to. Adam noticed her looking at him and smiled. He trusted her. After everything he still trusted her.
"I'm sorry, Catra. I'm not going home." Adora stopped holding her hand. "Not after what I've learned." If Adam didn't her trust anymore, she decided, it was better he learn that now before it hurt too much to know better. Besides, she told herself, he can do this.
"What squad?" She asked.
"Pick a number between one and one-hundred," Blast said. Catra realized how little control she was going to have over this but the smug look in Blast's face stopped her better judgement. One day, she'd be in position even he couldn't disrespect and then she'd ask him to choose what side of Beast Island sounded nicest. For the moment she picked a number at random. Squad 88. Blast stepped outside with smirk to send word to the Sergeant training them.
"Ok," she said, "Adam, come here." She fussed with his sleeves and his hair again, trying to make him presentable. "You." She pointed at him. "Are going somewhere." She walked fingers along her forearm. "Booger, this is very, very important." She leaned in. "Be good."
Adam's face fell at those words.
"Catra?" He made a mask over his lower face.
"No," Catra shook her head, "no Shadow Weaver." Adam smiled. "Listen." She touched his ear gently. She tapped the side of her head. "Think." She ruffled his hair. "You're tough. You're smart. You can do this." Adam giggled at the praise though whether he understood was another thing all together. "In a few weeks you'll be able to understand every word I'm saying but…I can't do that on my own and we need this."
"Hmmm?" Adam tilted his head.
"Nothing," Catra sighed, "nothing." Adam looked over his shoulder and pulled at the skin to the right of his lips in imitation of a burn scar. "His name is Blast."
"Bll-ast." Adam nodded. "Bad?"
"One of the worst," Catra nodded. "But you can handle him. Ok?"
"O-k." The door opened and Blast beckoned like an executioner. Catra began to stand up but stopped at the Colonel's little smirk.
"He's on his own from now til the end of the day," her old sergeant said, "that's the agreement. Understand?"
"I hate you!"Catra growled up at the man. Adora gasped, her foot moved a fraction off Catra's lower back. Blast crouched, frowning at her, the rainwater trickling through his scars shined in the floodlights overhead.
"You hate me…what?"Catra snarled at him through her misery.
"I hate you, sir."
"Hard not too, sir."
Teela saluted the Corporal with the eyepatch before leaving the lobby to climb the long stairs to the Colonel's office. She kept a slow, steady pace until she was satisfied no-one was in the stairwell with her. She began to leap two steps at a time, her boots clapping upwards to herald her. She couldn't stop giggling with bubbly excitement.
She wasn't in trouble, Sgt. Vultak had said that much, but the Colonel wanted someone to come to his office 'for a special assignment' and she'd been picked. She grinned to herself and took the next few steps like she was hop-scotching. Of course, she got picked! She was a Future Force Captain. She was the fastest sprinter in her year officially. She had the best combat scores, the highest marks on strategy, and-
Nobody likes you.
She grabbed at the railing to stop from tripping as the thought hit her all at once. That was so stupid. Why think about that now?! She launched herself up onto the next step, growling like a lion-cuc. When she got her hands on whoever wrote that note…
Stop it. You're better than they are and they hate you for it. That's all. They didn't get called up to do something special for the Colonel because they're not as good as you. Her ascent had slowed a little. That's why they don't talk to you ever. Or ask you to play…train with them. They're just jealous.
"I don't need them," she muttered to the empty stairwell, "I don't need anybody!"
When she reached the top floor, she fixed her shirt, made sure her headband was straight, and clicked her heels together before striding into the corridor. Colonel Blast waited before the big door to his office and turned to face her with a calculating quirk of his lips. She snapped her absolute-best-perfect salute, sucking in air to straighten her back until she could've flown a flag from her spine.
"Sir," she declared, her voice cracking treacherously, "on the orders of Sgt. Vultak. Cadet-"
"Teela!" Cried a voice. She sputtered and slouched a little in surprise. A boy a little shorter than herself peek around Blast's imposing figure. His eyes were bright blue and sparkling as they looked at her, his dark-brown eyebrows vanishing into the blonde bangs above them.
"-r-reporting for assignment?"
Colonel Blast suffered no questions and hardly said anything more than a few curt commands. Teela found herself unexpectedly hurt by his flippancy. He didn't even mention her Quarterly Scores or the fact that he was the one who signed the Future Force Captain recommendation for her in the Spring. It was like he didn't know her at all. She'd thought she special enough to remember…
"This is your 13th Cadet for the day," Blast finished his already slim explanation, "get back to your instruction and don't malinger. Understood?" Teela saluted, heart soaring with pride when the Colonel returned the gesture, then nearly frog-marched her new squadmate out of the hallway. He went willingly enough but almost instantly opened his mouth to speak.
"Shhh," she hissed at him, her bad mood getting worse as they descended the stairs. He was straining to be quiet and that somehow made it even more annoying when he glanced at her. He looked so…excited! The little weirdo might've ditched his gross animal skins and lost about three yards worth of honey-blonde hair but otherwise he was the same bizarre stranger she'd met weeks ago.
But what is he doing here?
She stopped to salute the Corporal again and heard Adam make a sound of understanding before mimicking her. She rounded on him when they got outside, scowling right in his grinning face.
"Ok, 'Adam' or whatever your name is, what are you-"
He was hugging her. The boy was actually, physically, arms around her shoulders, cheek-smushing-into-her-cheek, smiling so hard his eyes were shut hugging her. In the middle of the Academy where anybody could walk by and see and spread the word around. She was so mad she didn't react for minute.
"Teela," Adam giggled, squeezing her tight. Teela snorted angrily, grabbed him by his shoulders, and pressed a heel to the back of his knee. His eyes widened as he lost balance and Teela shoved him to the astro-turf. He whoofed in surprise when his bottom hit the ground and stared into the sky with owlish confusion, trying to figure out where his legs had gone.
"That's takedown number fourteen of thirty basic takedowns," Teela crossed her arms and loomed menacingly, "and unless you wanna learn all of 'em keep your hands to yourself." Adam looked abashed and made a bubble around himself with both hands.
"Ssss-orry," he mumbled glumly, rolling onto his palms and launching back to his feet with an acrobat's balance. He mussed his hair so it was moppy and unkempt, then rolled his sleeves up to his shoulders so his slightly tanned, skinny arms could breathe. She was looking him over carefully and he responded by blushing a little and offering a shy smile. "Hi."
"You know how much trouble I got in after the last time I met you?" Teela put her face an . "Sgt. Blue-crest makes me clean-up after every single Future Force Captains training session and says I gotta do that for the next three months!" She held up three fingers. "Three months! That's gonna take forever."
"Um," Adam blinked, cocking his head, "ssss-orry?"
"Sure," Teela said, spinning on the spot to feel sorrier for herself. She felt the boy shuffle closer and tensed up, expecting a hand on her arm or something. That was fine. She'd use takedown twenty-three next. That one had made big, bad Roja cry when she used it on her one time. But the hand she knew was at her shoulder drew back and Adam said a soft, admonishing 'no' to himself. He cleared his throat.
"Teela," he said, earnestly, "sorry." Teela was stunned by the sincerity in his voice and further amazed when she glanced back at him and saw his contrite smile. He actually meant it. A genuine apology.
He wasn't going to last two seconds with her squad.
"Whatever," she scuffed the ground with her boot and forced herself to say, "I guess you did have my back when Karina was trying to pick on me so…I'll let that one slide for now." She turned around, looking him over. "Where'd your weird clothes go?" She mimed a hood and Adam huffed.
"'Later'," he said it with a sarcastic little lilt that almost made her snicker.
"Why are you here?" He looked puzzled then gestured upwards to the Admin building.
"Catra," he held his throat to make his voice slightly raspy in an imitation, "'Adam. Be good.'"
"13th Cadet," Teela said, "that usually only happens when someone's transferring to another squad and the Colonel wants see if they fit in." She gave him an even look. "Are you…transferring to our squad?"
"Sssss-quad?" Teela rolled her eyes.
"Definitely won't transfer if we get in trouble for being late," she pointed towards Building 04, "c'mon, Sgt. Vultak is waiting." Even if her dumb 'mission' was to get Adam to the instruction room, she'd complete it to the letter as a Force Captain would.
Adam made it difficult.
"Adam," Teela growled, "stop messing around with the water fountain." The boy was making an arc water turn a patch of turf dark-green. He pointed at it, showing it off to her. She grabbed his collar and dragged him away towards Building 04.
"Awwwww!"
"Turn around," she spun him by his shoulders, "now march! One-two-one-two." Adam, kicking his knees high after she demonstrated, advanced at a quick rhythm
Building 04 was eerily quiet during instruction. The hallways and the stairwells were empty, but the scuffmarks of hundreds of size-small boots left the creepy sense of how many people were tucked away inside tiny, spartan rooms. Teela misliked the feeling she got when she wasn't surrounded by her squad. It meant, most likely, she wasn't doing something right and would get in trouble.
Teela led Adam up five landings to the Sgt. Vultak's instruction room and tidied her uniform up before rapping her knuckles smartly on the grainless fiberboard door. The door swung inward and Adam gasped behind her at the bent, lean figure that emerged.
Sgt. Vultak was old. The dictionary definition of 'old'. He was very skinny and very wrinkly. But mostly he was very feathery. Soft, downy mauve covered every inch of him, except for the bald top of his head and his naturally puckered face. His bare skin was a lighter shade of violet, except at the edges of his long, sharp fingernails where the skin had gone powdery-white with his great age. His eyes were still young. Red sclera with pitch-black pupils.
And, of course, there was the pair of enormous, purple wings poking out from his back. Teela suppressed a proud, hopeful smile at the little wink her favorite Sergeant sent her.
"Didn't get lost did you, red?" He teased.
"No, sir, sergeant sir," she saluted. Then, taking notice of Adam's awe-struck face, dug an elbow into his bicep, tapping her hand against her forehead. Adam rubbed at his arm and then, slowly, saluted Sgt. Vultak. The harpy clicked his sharp teeth, judging Adam with a cunning eye.
"And what name will the rebels curse when you fight them, little yellow-hair?"
"Adam," Adam said, "ow!" He shot Teela a frown and rubbed at his arm again, she kept her elbow angled for another shove if he was insubordinate one more time.
"Sir." She growled at him. What was he deal? Did he wantto get in trouble? Adam looked back at Sergeant Vultak, squinting as he thought.
"Oh!" He smiled. "Adam…sir."
"Sgt. Vultak," the sergeant scratched at his pointy chin, "and I don't believe we've met before…hmmm. Adam. Now that is a strange name, innit? I come across a lot of names in my time…Adam is a first." He turned back to Teela. "Cadet Teela, did our most punctilious Colonel Blast give you any special instructions to pass onto me?" Teela briefly laid out what little she knew. Adam was a potential transfer. A '13th Cadet'.
"I see now," Vultak hummed again, shrugging after a moment but never losing his shrewd, searching look, "well, we're on Lord Hordak's time, pups, so in you get." Teela marched past Sgt. Vultak, very ready to be done with Adam, his weirdness as well, and get back to forming the proper battle-plan against Roja.
"Who's that?" The snake-clan girl in question whispered to her as she made her way back to the bench. Teela ignored her question with a little toss of her head.
"Alright," Sgt. Vultak snapped his bony fingers and called the squad to attention, "let's get this done quick." Adam, suddenly bewildered by the sight of the children staring at him, moved woodenly as Vultak guided him by his shoulders to the front of the room. "This is Cadet Adam. A potential new squadmate for you all. Now, this is new and exciting, you all have no idea how to handle this…" a few giggles went up at the old soldier's affected sarcasm, "…but in this room you will learn about the most dangerous critters on Etheria. And my time has been cut into quite enough already. So, this is your 13th Cadet. Adam. Take him in and teach him your ways." He moved Adam forward gently, but the boy stopped after two steps.
Teela covered his face and growled into her palms, feeling her cheeks heating up in a strange second-hand embarrassment. Adam was like a spy caught in a searchlight. He kept looking around the room, trying to take in everything, and making little noises of concern as he realized something was expected of him.
"Cadet?" Vultak asked. "This is where you go find a seat." Teela pressed her palms against her eyes as she heard the whispering start. When she risked a peek, she saw Adam leaning forward trying to understand what people were saying about him. Vultak was frowning at him, more out of concern than anger. Teela knew some Sergeants who would've slapped him upside the head by now.
"Adam," Teela said, unable to bear the tension, "just come sit over here." She pointed at the slight opening between her and Avery, scooching over to make more room. Adam smiled, of course, and nodded. Then, eschewing the long way, crawled under the long table to a smatter of startled laughter from the squad, and popped up next to Teela, settling in next to her with quiet 'Tee-la'. Someone whispered her name to their neighbor.
Great. Now she was stuck with this.
"That is the last time I help you," Teel said and turned her burning face away from the oblivious blondie to find Sgt. Vultak watching her. He produced a thin remote from his desk, three-fingered hand indicating a television set into the wall.
"Now as we were saying earlier," he began, "the Razor-Toothed Gravel Worm is the diabolical delver of Dryl. A rare but quite real creature of considerable danger to the Horde efforts in the Dryl Mountain Range where, thank Yudiah and all her lunar sisters, they are only found there."
"A worm, sarge?" Cadet Masi asked from the back of the room. "What's a worm gonna do?" Teela rolled her eyes at the Elberonian moth-boy's stupid question. Especially when Cadet Ivy giggled and added her own opinions. Sgt. Vultak never told them about animals that weren't dangerous. Teela shivered as she recalled a week of nightmares over the Dire-Prawn of Salineas. So many legs…
"Yeah," Teela turned halfway in her seat to see Cadet Ivy, a Plumerian, nudging her best friend, Cadet Zam, "what do they do? Wriggle at you?" Zam hooted with mirth and leaned forward to swipe a finger against Bobby's unprotected neck. Bobby yelped fingers searching for a non-existent worm.
"Bobby's afraid of them!" Someone yelled. Teela suffered the wave of laughter that followed until Cadet Max tried to chime in. She cut off the laughter, her voice harsh and commanding.
"Maybe if you all shut up, he'll tell us." Satisfied at the silence, she turned back around.
"Sergeant's Soldier," someone whispered. Teela whipped her face back toward the voice, eyes flashing, and sniffed derisively when nobody dared speak. She caught Adam staring at her again, eyes searching her for something, for an understanding of some kind.
"Alright, enough chit-chat," Sgt. Vultak snapped, then he turned sly, "so you all think this is no big thing, huh?" Without uncrossing his arms, he pressed the button on the remote.
"Welcome to Etherium Pass, Cadets. The only way up into the Dryl Mountains." The image stuttered onto screen. Teela recognized the green lettering in the bottom corner as a Drone ID Code and Command Designation. J12-RE/RP. A recon/report drone. The recording shook slightly as the spidery bot navigated an uneven, rocky causeway up into the stormy heights of the Dryl mountains.
Teela found herself shivering a little as the video went on. The sky lashed out with long whips of lighting and rolled with heavy cannon-blasts of thunder that followed them. A sudden rain of small rocks pelted the recon-bot from the bare, lonely crag above it.
Someday, I'll go there too. She would be bigger and stronger. She'd have shiny black armor and a sword of green metal to answer all challenges. She'd march right up into the Mountains of Dryl. Why stop there? She'd beat down the doors of the Crypto Castle herself though the idea mad her swallow a sudden lump in her throat.
Evil Princess Entrapta lived there…but Teela reminded herself a thousand enslaved Etherians did too. Waiting to be saved. Toiling day and night in the deep mines until they collapsed from exhaustion. Entrapta's robots dragged those too weak to work away to her secret laboratory. Not even the meanest older Cadets would suggest what happened to them there.
Teela winced at a loud peal of thunder and drew herself up in her seat. She didn't need to bescared. When she marched on Dryl she'd have the whole army of the Horde with her. She'd command them. As a Force Captain they'd have to go with her because she outranked them.
Still, a small glance around the room made her feel more alone. No one liked her. She knew that and she didn't care…but how was she supposed to fight Princess Entrapta all by herself? She looked back at the screen and found it shaking to the point that she suspected the recon-bot was malfunctioning. An endless clap of thunder began to synchronize with the unstable visual.
No, she realized, that's not thunder it's…the ground?
The cliffs exploded into white powder and a sheet of falling rocks. Emerging from the wall of debris was a worm the size of the Admin building. It's circular maw shot sparks as bits of cliff bounced across a thousand spinning teeth. Cadet Zam, so quick to joke, squealed in fright. They weren't alone, the whole squad reacted with horror.
"Ha!" Vultak squawked. "Just a worm. Just a harmless worm. Bait a fish-hook with it! What could it possibly do…" no-one but Teela heard him trail away as he noticed the empty spot next to her.
Adam had vanished into thin air. Teela looked around the room, watching her squadmates trying desperately to keep their eyes on the screen as the huge pale-pink monstrosity drew the bot into its gullet. The whine of a hundred buzzsaws filled the room as those awful teeth worked to shred the recon bot.
Teela felt someone tug on her sleeve, she looked down, gasping a little at the face staring up from under the table. Adam's eyes had changed. They were not the open, slightly puzzled gateways into a too-friendly, smiling face. They were set, slightly terrified chips of steel. The boy pulled her under the table with him, covering her mouth when she tried to ask him a question. He kept to the darkest part of the shadows, peering out at the screen with suspicious eyes.
"Teela," he almost mouthed her name as he nodded towards the door. He scooted forward onto all-fours, quiet and graceful, creeping along the table. He was scared of the television.
"You are ridiculous!" She hissed. She worm-crawled out from the table and snagged his hand, pulling his reluctant form out into the light of the screen. Adam ducked behind her shoulder, wary but not scared exactly. He bared his teeth when the Gravel Worm spat out the bot, clearly unhappy with the taste, and burrowed back underground in a tall geyser of broken stones.
He really doesn't get it. She wasn't annoyed by that because she was too busy being amazed by how he managed a deep, animal growl that made her hair stand-up. He gave the impression of a cornered beast ready to bite and scratch his way to safety.
"Look," Teela said, she took his hand moved it to the screen, Adam growled again, trying to pull away, "just look, Adam, it's safe. See?" She pressed his hand to the screen, feeling the the fuzzy aura of static around the old televsion. The image paused as the last of the Razor-Tooth Gravel Worm's long, ugly body slithered back under ground.
Adam's caution had begun to ebb away. He touched his knuckles against the screen with a soft plinking noise and after a moment, he was pressed both hands to it.
"Oooooh," he said, beaming as he understood, "oh!" He turned to her, showing a slightly crooked smile, lit up by the screen. "Wow."
"So, don't freak out," Teela said, crossing her arms, "it's not really there."
"If we could take our seats," Sgt. Vultak said, "we could continue with the lesson I think." Vultak offered Teela a smile. Not a smirk or a teasing grin but a real genuine smile. Like he was proud of her.
The hour passed uneventfully after that but Teela could feel the others staring at Adam…and her…the entire time. Vultak explained the worms at length. How they could dissolve rocks in their stomach acids. How the boy-worms were no bigger than a grown man's arm (which was awful in its own way) but the girl-worms became titanic.
It was all important data and Teela filed it away for the quiz he'd give them at week's end. She'd score high on it, as she always did, and it would be one step closer to getting out of the Fright Zone to her own command. Somewhere people would respect her. That future, on which she pinned all her hopes, felt briefly in jeopardy when Sgt. Vultak asked her to hang back a few minutes as the hour-bell blared over the loudspeakers.
"All Hail Lord Hordak!" The squad was dismissed by a half-attentive Vultak, who was busy watching Adam marvel over a Gravel Worm tooth bigger than both his hands. The Sergeant had produced it from his collection of hunting trophies and was explaining how the striatied sides could give an idea of the worm's age. He left the boy to wonder and knelt down to Teela's level.
"You know our new soldier don't you, red?" He smiled at her reaction. "Course I caught on. These eyes been watching Hordelings like you for nearly forty years. Go on. Who is he?" Teela recounted her odd meeting with Adam weeks prior. Vultak's face creased with reproach half-way through. "Teela, did you really have to pick a fight with Cadet Karina? You couldn't have resolved it some other way?"
"She started it," Teela huffed, "she always starts it."
"Right," Vultak rolled his ancient eyes, "you kids need better incentives to play nice. But this tunic you said Adam was wearing. It was made of animal skin?"
"With fur and stuff. Teeth on it." Vultak's eyes narrowed with interest. Teela hooked her fingers to mimic the curve of the predator fangs. "The fur was all purple."
"How purple? What shade?" Teela shrugged. "Me-purple or darker, Cadet?"
"Darker." Vultak tapped a gnarled finger on his chin. "Sir?"
"There's a deadly beast I know of. A mean, down-right fatal big cat called a Panthor. Purple fur. Teeth like you described." He spread his wings slightly, the left one was bent in a way that seemed all wrong, "Big. Nasty tempers and long claws that'll cut you open in a second. They hate company but they love to fight. When they get done killing everything that's not a Panthor they start fighting each other. Would take a real tough customer to bring one down."
Teela looked at Adam and remembered the way he'd crouched under the table, suddenly transformed into something lean and primal.
"You think Adam could've…?"
"Heh," Vultak shook his head, "no way. Even if he could it wouldn't matter. Ain't no Panthors left on Etheria. Last one died a long time ago."
"How d'you know, sir?" A sad, faraway look entered Vultak's red eyes.
"I was the one who put her down." He sighed. "But that's a story you don't need to hear. So, listen on me now." Teela nodded. "I want you to look out for Adam today, understand?" She must've made a face because Vultak gave her the stink-eye. "Teela, I thought you wanted to be a Force Captain."
"I do!"
"What's a Force Captain do?" Vultak asked. She knew he had an answer in mind already and tried to guess it.
"Fight," she said. Vultak hummed. "Conquer," she offered. Vultak shook his head. "Uh…take vengeance on the Rebels for their centuries of tyranny."
"They lead, Cadet Teela," Vultak said, "Force Captains are leaders. And that's what I saw earlier from you, kid, you were leading." Teela frowned.
"What? With the television? That was-"
"A lot more than the snitty comments the rest of your squad was making at him," Vultak said, sounding proud, "and the kind of thing the best Force Captains do." He whispered. "Friends make good soldiers, Teela. Take it from an old trooper."
Sgt. Vultak was so weird. He said stuff that no other Sergeant ever did. Stuff that everybody else thought was for weaklings. Teela knew she had to have back-up of course. A shieldwall needed more than one soldier. A tank needed a crew. But friends?
"I don't have any friends," Teela snapped, "I don't need any friends." She expected a reprimand at her tone. A few Sergeants would've even pinched her ear over the lack of a 'sir'. Vultak just looked kind of sad.
"Everybody needs friends, Teela. Remember the snow-wolves we covered last month? Work best in a pack."
"Panthors don't," Teela grumbled. Vultak squawked a laugh.
"Yup and look how well that worked out for them. Extinct. C'mon, do it for your old sergeant if nothing else." Teela looked at Adam's bright, open face as he ran his fingers along the gigantic tooth. If he was gonna be around all day anyway…
"Fine, sir," Teela grumbled. Vultak ruffled her hair, careful not to jostle her hairband and Teela couldn't help a smile at that. "Not like one day is gonna change anything…"
"Teela!" She jumped at Adam's voice and fumbled to take the tooth from him as he shoved it into her hands, eager to show off the marvel to her. "See?" He put a hand over one of hers, making her palm run over the hard ridges of the fossil.
"Of course I see," she said, but didn't struggle away from Adam this time, trying to be collected, "I'm holding it aren't I? I guess it's cool or whatever." Adam's eyes twinkled at her.
"K..k…koool?"
"Cool," Teela said. Adam nodded with understanding.
"Cool."