There was a part of Vader that still enjoyed the heat of battle. Whether that was Anakin or the old Sith Lord was hard to tell. Not that it mattered at the moment. He had more important things to do than figure out what part of him was more excited for a fight.

His lightsaber flashed in front of him, deflecting the volley of fire sent in his direction. The Horde soldiers scrambled out of his way, ducking into the green, metal buildings. They were laughable in comparison to the many foes he faced throughout the years. Though such a comparison was hardly fair.

Even the droid army was better coordinated than this.

Most of the Horde's problems seemed to lie in the fact that they weren't equipped to deal with a single combatant capable of as much destruction as Vader was. Most of their tactics were geared to face a large-scale assault. A mostly sound strategy for a fortress of this size as long as your commanders were competent enough to adjust the plan as needed.

A tank rumbled into the street ahead of him, its main cannon charged to fire. Vader raised his hand as it did, the force rippling around him. He caught the plasma bolt and knocked it into one of the buildings. The front face of the structure collapsed sending out a plume of dust that spread into the air.

Vader then clenched his fist, grabbing the tank in his telekinetic grip. A shove sent the crude thing flying back. It flipped end over end before landing on a makeshift entrenchment. The soldiers inside scrambled to get out of the way, leaving the streets clear once more.

Silence reigned after the tank settled. It seemed that the soldiers were taking their time before the next assault. Vader could feel them as they moved between the building and alleyways trying to stay out of his sight. A fruitless effort considering his powers with the force, but not many on this planet had experience with fighting such a foe.

The streets themselves were odd, their maze-like structure showing a general disregard for basic city planning. Vader had dismissed such construction as the failed plan of an imbecile, but being present in the middle of the Frightzone's madness changed his perspective. He should have noticed it earlier, having worked with the Sith Lord Momin to construct his castle on Mustafar to channel the darkside of the force.

The Frightzone was built with similar principles. He could feel it in the way the force thrummed beneath his feet, how it flowed into currents and eddies in the corners of his perception. It had been built this way for a purpose, but what that purpose was eluded him. The inefficiencies he'd spotted didn't help in that regard, though it did make him think that whoever had planned this out was influenced into this design unknowingly. If they understood what they were doing they should have used it better.

Of course, there was always the possibility they still designed the city this way to keep others from figuring out what they wanted. Ultimately it didn't matter, not at this moment at least. Those mysteries would still be here once the mission was complete.

In the meantime, he could use the effects of the design to his benefit, following the trails left behind by the many soldiers that called this place home. The controls for the antiaircraft emplacements were nearby, he could feel it.

As he marched down the still-empty streets, he felt the force recede for a moment. Like water before a massive wave, it poured out the corners and alleyways before surging out and over everything. Fear, pain, and rage were carried in its broken waves. Echoes of the emotions released. He stood against the storm, letting it roll over him.

It seemed his apprentice was having her first brush of the darkside.

This wasn't unexpected. Vader's return to the place he had come from was also fraught with such violence. But a part of him had hoped. Hoped that Catra wouldn't get subjected to the same pain he had been. No, it seemed his apprentice was like him in that regard, a truth he could no longer push to the side.

He would need to take great care in the next few steps of her training. Catra's outburst, and whatever triggered it, was sure to have torn open the wounds this place had left in her. He should have worked to talk about her experiences more, but that was mostly his fault he supposed. Perhaps it was time to open up himself. Tell her of his history. His own fall.

Electricity coursed through him. He groaned as the systems that kept him alive glitched and spasmed, the red lenses of his helmet spewing reams of error messages. It wasn't as potent as his former Master's punishments, but it did make it harder to breathe for a moment.

He pulled upon the force, using it to make up for his temporary impediment, and spun around. His lightsaber flashed, burning through the stun baton held by his attacker. The creature stumbled back, his green scales reflecting the red light to Vader, dark reptilian eyes widening in fear.

He was little more than a boy, barely into adulthood. Even with the fact that he wasn't human Vader could sense that. It seemed to be a theme the Horde stuck to. Training children into soldiers. Catra's old friend Adora was an excellent example of this being a poor idea if what his apprentice had told him was true. Even if you controlled everything about the child's upbringing, education, and peers, once they had a better, more accurate understanding of the world, they would inevitably break away. This would lead to more questions from the others, question the enforcers would have no good answers for. It was a long-term game, played with short-term strategies. Maybe the Empire could have done such a thing at its height, but there were other ways to gain soldiers.

Vader held his red blade to the boy's throat. "While I commend your intelligence and bravery for attacking when my guard was down." He said as he stepped closer, looming over the boy. "You must realize the foolishness of not following through with your attack."

A series of growls and hisses came out of the boy. It was a language that Vader didn't recognize and neither did the software in his suit. The tone, however, was something Vader was familiar with. Defiance mixed with fear and anger, all of which were directed at him. How many had responded the same way in their final moments before his blade cut them down?

Vader interrupted the boy, "You have heart. Though it is misplaced. I doubt your superiors would show you the same loyalty." More hisses and growls. The boy's eyes flickered as well, towards something hidden behind a pile of rubbish.

Vader raised his fist, silencing the boy with the force. His eyes widened and his clawed hand came up to his neck, trying to pull off Vader's invisible hold. He let his red blade fall away as he kept his hold on the boy. He wouldn't kill him, he'd killed enough children in his life, but he still needed the boy out of commission to make sure he couldn't call for more help.

"Wait!" A voice cried out from behind the pile of rubbish. Another boy, human this time, scrambled up, almost dropping his weapon in the process. He was scrawny with an ill-fitting uniform and a mop of blonde hair that hung down around his face. "Please, don't hurt him."

Vader loosened his grip on the one that attacked him letting him get a lungful of air. He could feel the connection between the two. It left an ache in him, echoing his connection to Padme. Perhaps he could use this. "What is your offer then?"

"What?" The blonde boy looked confused. His eyes darted between his friend and Vader as his grip tightened on the weapon he held.

"You would have me not harm the lizard," Vader turned, giving the blonde a clearer view of his friend as he struggled against Vader's grip. The action elicited the response Vader was looking for as a dawning comprehension bloomed across the blonde's face. "What do you have to offer for my mercy?"

A part of Vader, the part that had loved Padme, that had been awoken again by his son, balked at him using a similar connection for his gains. He pushed it back this time. He had no plans to permanently injure either of them. He would not twist his words, or go back on them like he had done with similar situations when he had been the Dark Lord the galaxy feared. It would still leave a bitter taste in his mouth, but he lived with worse.

"I don't-"

"If you don't have an offer then let me extend one. I need the anti-aircraft defenses brought down. Show me how, and I will not harm either of you."

Another set of growls and chirps came from the boy Vader held in the force. No doubt telling the blonde not to give in. It wouldn't work. Vader could feel the blonde's resolve crumbling. He sagged, his shoulders slumping forward. "I... There's a power conduit, hidden in a building nearby." He gestured in the direction Vader had already been heading. "It supplies power to all the turrets. Take it out and the whole system crashes."

Vader nodded. So that was what he felt. What the currents were leading him to. He took a step away from his attacker, letting his hold go. As he sagged and took in deep breaths Vader spoke again. "Show me."

The aircraft emplacements are dealt with," Vader's voice crackled through Catra's working gauntlet. "Are we still on track for the courtyard?"

Catra looked over at Mermista, gesturing for the princess to answer. Her ruined arm was still clutched to her side, throbbing in pain with every movement. They were out of the Garnet Chamber, having got themselves pulled together after Adora's breakdown. It was understandable. Catra didn't know what she would do if she suddenly couldn't feel the force. Despite only training with Vader for a few months now it felt like a part of her.

Adora had recovered enough to lead them through the meandering hallways, her sword strapped to her back. They didn't have far to go now. Only a few short turns stood between them and freedom.

"We're on track," Mermista said after pulling out her com-link. "Had a slight hiccup..." She paused, shooting an apologetic look over her shoulder at Catra. "Have some injuries. Catra's hurt pretty bad, and Adora isn't looking too hot either."

A growl escaped Catra as she glared at the princess. While she understood why the princess told them, Catra wasn't in a good condition to fight and Adora wasn't either, it still irked her that Mermista would just say it so blatantly. With the way Adora's shoulders tightened in front of them, she agreed.

"I have plenty of plants ready for them." Perfurma's voice came through the comlink. "We'll treat them once they're aboard."

"Make sure you have enough," Vader again, his voice curt and sharp. Was that directed at her? Was he mad things hadn't gone as planned? "I will be at the courtyard shortly to cover our escape."

Vader's voice cut off with a burst of static leaving the three of them in silence. As they turned another corner, Adora spoke up. "That was Vader, right? What's he doing here?"

Catra stiffened at her friend's words. She had known there would be a chance of Adora and Vader meeting when he went to that little princess party. But that was all it was. A chance. Now though, she couldn't help but wonder what he and Adora had talked about, if they had talked at all. She didn't want to think about Adora's reaction to the fact that she'd been training in the woods with the space wizard. Better to save that conversation for later, once they were out of the Frightzone.

"He tagged along with his apprentice," Mermista jabbed a thumb at Catra when Adora looked back at them, "When she decided to help us get you and Glimmer out of here."

Or they could have this conversation now.

"Apprentice?" Adora asked, raising an eyebrow at Catra. "Since when?"

Catra licked her lips her mouth suddenly dry. "Since... Pretty soon after Thaymor. He found me while we were retreating from..." She trailed off. Adora was sure to remember that day as well as she did. It doesn't appear to be a happy memory by the way her eyes dull and her mouth tightens into a small frown

There was something behind Adora's eyes that Catra doesn't remember seeing in all their time together. Pain, anger, grief? A mixture of all three? It was gone in a moment, slid behind a mask that wasn't Adora. Catra could still tell she was thinking with the way her fingers tapped against her thigh as they walked, but she couldn't tell what thoughts are buzzing through her old friend's mind. That felt wrong. There used to be a time when she could read Adora's thoughts as easily as her own. Did a few months separate them that much?

They reached the door that would lead them outside before anything else could be said. Adora opened it, letting the light from the outside stream in to drown out the sickly green of the Horde's lights. There was an immediate unraveling of the tension between them as their freedom was almost assured now.

Something crept up Catra's spine.

Her fur bristled as her ears swiveled to find what caused this feeling. The force undulated in a way she'd never felt before. It felt wrong. This wasn't the cloying fear and despair of the Frightzone. This was the emptiness she felt. That hole, the one she felt in the sewers, was back threatening to consume anything and everything around it.

She turned to look down the hallway they had come down and was met with a wall of black. That was wrong. Even if the lights weren't working the brightness from the open doorway should have lit up the hallway behind them. For a second she thought Shadow Weaver was back, ready for round two. But that thought died when she realized that Weaver's darkness was never this perfect, never this solid. There was always a faint shimmer to it, an outline showing where her power began and ended.

This was just a well of nothing, staring back at Catra.

No, not nothing. Deep in the well of darkness, two pinpricks of light stood out, like two eyes staring at her. The force slithered out and around her, oily, thick, and wrong. It came with a feeling of being watched, being dissected, inside and out. And whatever the thing found seemed to please it.

She wanted to flee. Every part of Catra was screaming at her to turn and run. To grab Adora and leave behind whatever this thing was staring at her through the darkness. But she couldn't. Couldn't move, couldn't look away.

"Catra?" Adora's voice and her soft touch on Catra's arm broke the spell. Her head snapped to the side to find Adora right next to her. The blonde's eyebrows knit together out of concern. "You okay?"

No, no she wasn't. Her body was shivering, her heart beating loudly in her chest. She looked back down the hallway, hoping to show them what she saw.

It was gone.

Whatever had been there was gone, leaving behind the green and black wall of the Horde's hallways. Catra blinked and tried to take a step forward. She didn't get far with Adora's grip on her arm before she shook her head and backed up.

"Sorry," she said as she turned away. "Just..." She shook her head again. Neither Mermista nor Adora needed to know about what she saw. Not now at least. "Nevermind."

Adora stared at her for a moment longer before nodding and letting her arm drop. Catra wasn't sure what to make of that. Adora wasn't good at just letting things go. More than likely she'd try and corner Catra later and ask questions.

Catra pushed that thought out of her mind as they left the fortress. The courtyard was just as she remembered. Small and cramped. Honestly, the area didn't deserve to be called a courtyard for the little free space there was. It was covered in the Horde's signature gray pavement and nothing else. The mishmash of buildings that surrounded the area was shorter here, next to the fortress. Now that she thought about it, the designs were probably used to make the building seem more imposing. Though it was hard to be sure considering most of the Frightzone seemed to be constructed by a madman.

"You calling them or am I?" Mermista asked as she pivoted around on the balls of her feet as she tried to keep the various lead-offs in view.

"I'd need a hand." Catra raised her good arm, showing off the button on her gauntlet she couldn't press unless she got creative with her tongue or nose. Mermista grimaced and went to pull out her com-link before Adora interrupted her.

"Which one is it?"

She was so close to Catra now. Practically leaning into her as she looked down at the buttons. The suddenness of her movement startled Catra into reaching out with the force. She didn't know what she expected to happen, but, now that she had she couldn't help leaning into it. Adora felt warm and bright. Almost the exact opposite of Vader. Yet she didn't feel as blinding as Catra would have thought. She was comfortable and safe.

Catra shuddered and closed her eyes as she tried to pull herself back. Adora's presence clung to her, not wanting to let go. When Catra opened her eyes again Adora was staring back at her, wide-eyed and shocked. "What..."

"It's the orange one," Catra said quickly, shoving her arm into Adora's face to stop the look."Press the orange button and I'll talk."

Adora did so, a flurry of emotions flitting across her face.

Whether that was better than the stoic mask she had been wearing was up for debate. The gauntlet emitted a burst of static released by Proxy's mechanical voice. "Mistress Catra, is that you?"

Adora raised an eyebrow at that but didn't comment. "Yeah," Catra said. "We're outside, just waiting for pickup." Her ears swiveled back catching the low rumbling whine of Vader's ship. "I can hear you're almost-"

"You've got a large force incoming!" Entrapta yelled through the coms. "Looks like they have-" The high-pitched whine of a Horde tank drowned out the rest of her words.

Over a dozen Horde soldiers poured into the area, followed by the tank. The machine's weapons were already primed, the sickly green glow growing brighter as the gun turned toward them.

Move!" Adora tried to shove both Mermista and Catra away. An action that Catra wasn't going to allow. She latched onto Adora's arm with her good hand and pulled. The two of them fell together as Catra used the force to get them further away.

The tank fired as they landed. White spots danced in Catra's vision with her injured arm pinned between her and Adora. She couldn't breathe in enough to scream as the pain drowned out anything else. After what felt like hours the pain receded enough that she could see again.

Adora's face was inches from her own, her clear blue eyes full of concern and confusion. There was a faint crackling noise that played along the edges of Catra's perception. As her mind cleared some more a question came to her.

Where was the plasma shot from the tank?

Slowly Catra peeked around Adora's shoulder. The shot was frozen in place, crackling and spitting as it burned the air around it. She stared at the green bolt, matching Adora's confusion.

"What-"

The bolt careened back along the path it had taken. It slammed into the tank, creating an explosion of green fire. Catra ducked her head back down as Adora tucked herself tighter around her. The shockwave hit them in the next second, rending the air around them with a deafening roar.

Then it was over. Bits of metal and concrete debris rained down around them. Adora got off of Catra, rolling to the side as they stared at the carnage around them. The tank was nothing more than twisted metal lying on the ground. A tower of green fire mixed with the acrid black smoke of burning electronics reached into the air.

Any of the horde soldiers that were close to the tank were dead, their charred armor smoking slightly. The rest of them were pulling themselves together, staggering to their feet, and getting back into formation. One of them pointed towards them, barking orders at the rest.

"Come on!" Adora yelled as she hauled Catra onto her feet. Vader's ship was above them now. Bow and Perfuma leaned out of the hanger bay door, clinging to the struts for dear life. "We need to-"

"Halt right-"

Catra nearly collapsed again as the force bore down upon her. Vader was here.

He lept through the remains of the tank. The green fire smoke clung to his armor, painting a nightmarish image as he attacked the soldiers. He moved with fury and purpose, the force clinging to him like a second skin. This was what Vader meant when chiding her about not turning to the force. It wrapped around him, cold and raging, lashing out at the soldiers in equal measure to his lightsaber. How much was he holding back in their spars?

"Catra!" The panic in Adora's voice broke Catra out of her trance. She looked over and found Mermista already halfway between the ground and the ship. She was suspended by vines Perfuma's doing, her free hand waving frantically at them. More vines dangled in front of Catra and Adora, waiting for them.

"What are you waiting for?" Catra asked as she grabbed one of the vines. She was half expecting some quip back, like how they used to talk while training.

Adora's answer nearly threw her for another loop. "I'm not leaving without you. Not again"

Catra's head whipped around to find Adora staring at her. the look she had set Catra's face ablaze and she looked away, grabbing at the vines. They wrapped around the two of them and pulled them into the air. Catra nearly toppled over, but a steadying hand from Adora kept her from reuniting with the ground.

The trip up was quick and Catra soon found herself inside the ship. She stumbled away from Adora, wanting to put space between them for the moment. There would be a time for whatever conversation needed to be had, but that could come later.

Perfuma descended upon her with more of the slimy leaves to wrap around Catra's arm. She hissed at the sensation, the sudden cold and wet feeling both shocking and relieving. Mermista had been right. Perfuma had the good stuff.

"How is Vader going to-" The man in question jumped onto the platform, interrupting Mermista.

He didn't look like he had just taken on the Horde. The only signs that he had been in a fight were the frayed and singed edges of his cloak and the few scorch marks littered across his black armor. He looked over the group, his gaze lingering on Catra for a moment before speaking. "Is everyone accounted for?"

Perfuma was the one to speak up as she moved to Adora after settling the leaves on Catra's arms, not bothering to look up as she spoke. "Everyone's here. The rest are in the other rooms." She gestured blindly into the main hold.

"Very well." Vader stepped around the group and press a button on the wall. The ramp closed as the ship rumbled around them. "We will be in Brightmoon shortly. Have all those injured prepped for transfer once there." He swept out of the hold, leaving them behind to gather themselves together.

How did that infernal beast best her? The thought dominated Shadow Weaver's mind since waking up alone in the Garnet chamber. She didn't know how long ago that was. The pain she was in threw the concept of time out the window. It didn't help that she had heard nothing from Hordak. Had the leader of the Horde finally decided she wasn't worth his time? That could be both good and bad for her, depending on if the old clone was feeling like cleaning out things he didn't care for anymore.

She shook her head as she leaned against her basin, soaking up the excess magic she gathered from the garnet. Her skin where the lightning had seared through the fabric of her clothes tingled like a thousand needles were being pressed into her limbs. It wasn't something she was used to, especially considering who had injured her.

Where did her wayward ward learn such power? It wasn't sorcery, that much Weaver was sure about. There wasn't a spell that she didn't have at least a passing knowledge of, if not more. Several that she invented herself when she had been Light Spinner and more once out of the oppressive light of Mystacore. But that wasn't what Catra or her new master Vader were doing. It felt, deeper than magic, more primal and yet refined. More powerful.

She'd always known Catra had potential. Not as much as Adora. Comparing the two girls was like comparing a lamp to a bonfire. But that power had still been in Catra. And Shadow Weaver tried everything she could to snuff it out. The girl would have been a threat, and that wouldn't do.

Not that it mattered much now. Whoever this Vader was had unlocked the power dormant inside Catra. Unleashed it and stoaked the flames into something Weaver had never seen before. She would need to deal with this as soon as possible. Catra couldn't be allowed to wreck everything Weaver had worked for. She just had to figure out how to kill the girl without invoking the wrath of the demon Vader.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Weaver's head snapped up from the basin at the voice. It sounded like it was coming from inside her head yet she was sure she could also hear it. She looked around the room for the source. Had somebody snuck in while she was distracted? Had Hordak- No the voice wasn't Hordak's. Too soft and none of the low growl that his voice had. So where?

"You know where... Where I've always been…"

Weaver shivered, her gaze drawn to the garnet. The large crack that marred its surface stood out in the low light looking like a crooked, broken smile. The kind of smile that didn't come from heartfelt amusement, but sadistic glee.

She shook her head. Since when did she start attributing emotion to objects? It was ridiculous. The runestones were nothing but tech meant to harness greater energies. It was incapable of generating emotions let alone speech.

"There are a great many things you do not know my child."

"I am no child of yours," Weaver hissed back at the voice.

Black, inky tendrils slithered out of the crack. Before Weaver could do more than take a step back they were on her, binding her in place. "Then perhaps I should take my power back." A single tendril curled under her chin, forcing her head up to stare at the crack again. "Surely you remember? When your ritual failed and you were burning from the inside out, crying out for help."

She did remember. How could she forget the ritual that saw her exiled from Mystacore? She still felt the heat of it on occasion. The feeling of molten lead that flowed through her veins as foreign power rushed through her was a nightmare she continually had. It had left its scars, scars that were revealed when the tendril under her chin flicked her mask off. She struggled against the thing holding her to no avail as her mask, her protection against the world clattered to the floor.

"Did you think your survival was up to you?" The being, whatever it was, chuckled, a cold breath rolling across Weaver's face. Yet the was still nothing there but the tendrils holding her in place. "No dear child. I answered your call, kept you alive, gave you a bit of my power. And now? I would see that debt repaid."

"Who… What-"

The thing hummed in thought, the deep sound shaking Weaver to her bones. "My name, my true name isn't important, though I know you mortals like clinging to them. You may call me… Mother. I was once called that, long ago, when those like me claimed this place as home. Now," Weaver dropped to the ground in a heap as the tendrils retreated into the Garnet, "If we are to take advantage of your former wards' help, you will need to listen closely."

Weaver gasped for breath as she pushed herself back up. Her hand found her mask again and she slipped it back on, covering her face once more. This wouldn't end well, but she doubted there was much choice left for her. Better to adjust and wait for an opportunity to cut her losses. For now, she could play along. Maybe even find a way to turn this in her favor.

"What would you have me do, Mother?"

A/N: Hey, y'all. It's been a long time. Between looking for a second job and trying to get my dad into a care facility I've had little time to write. I finally got this chapter finished when... My dad died... A couple of weeks ago actually. Still kinda processing that. Anyway, I've been editing this chapter while we (Me and my mother) get all the funeral arrangements made. It's all ready so I'm posting it now. I hope you guys enjoy it. I'm going to spend the rest of this year finishing this fic. I think I've said it before but the plan is to end this fic much like season one of She-ra. Then it'll be time for me to work on other projects. I'll see y'all in the future.