Chapter 75: The New Year's Party

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, Unites States of America, Earth, January 1st, 1999

Adora was a little nervous as she approached the mess hall. The Stargate Command New Year's Party - that was the official title, as a poster next to the door announced - wasn't an Earth version of the Princess Prom. If her friends expected a ball and grand buffet, they would be disappointed. Sure, she had told them that it was a party for the soldiers stuck on the base over the holidays. Several times, in fact. But the way the others were beaming, looking at everything along the way, she feared that they might not have really understood what that meant. They were princesses, after all. And they had always been princesses. Except for Sea Hawk and Swift Wind, and, technically, Micah and Castaspella. OK, most of them were princesses. But they were used to the parties thrown by and for princesses. Not parties thrown by and for common soldiers in an army of millions.

Adora couldn't help thinking that the Stargate Command New Year's Party would be more like what parties they had thrown as cadets in the Horde than the Princess Prom or the victory celebrations of the Alliance after Horde Prime's defeat.

"Remember, this is a military base," she said as they stepped through the door, following Jack and the others. "They can't…" She blinked. The mess hall looked very different - if she hadn't been here before, and seen the hallway outside, she would have thought she had entered the wrong room.

Catra whistled. "They've pulled out all the stops." She sniffed the air. "Tuna salad. Smoked salmon. Fried fish. The good stuff."

"Look at that buffet!"

"Oh, look at the stage!"

"Look at the sound system! Emily, scan it!"

"Oh! And so many different uniforms! I thought this was all the same army, like the Horde!"

"Air Force, mostly - and not any more," Adora corrected Scorpia. "Soldiers from five countries are now guarding the gate."

"Oh."

"And they've got several different branches in each army," Bow added. "With different uniforms. Although I thought it was a more casual affair. Those are dress uniforms."

Indeed. Adora frowned - she was sure that the dress code in the invitation hadn't mentioned dress uniforms. On the other hand, maybe that was the standard for such events, and so they hadn't mentioned it?

"Well, you said this was a small party, but this doesn't look small," Perfuma said. "Not at all."

"Beats Force Captain parties for sure." Scorpia nodded. "We usually had no decorations and mostly pilfered food and drinks."

Indeed. It was grander than Adora had expected. It looked more like a formal state dinner, with all the white tablecloth covering up the… were those new tables? Definitely new chairs.

"I think that's our fault," Glimmer said.

"Our fault?" Micah cocked his head to the side.

"When they heard that all of us would attend, they probably went over their plans for the whole thing," Glimmer explained.

"Yep," Jack chimed in with a grin. "The funds for the party were mysteriously but generously increased this week. This isn't how our New Year's party usually looks like."

"I thought so," Catra said with a matching grin.

"Me too," Adora added.

"You did all of this in a few days?" Frosta sounded impressed. Well, she had organised the last Princess Prom, so she would know better what went into such events than Adora.

"Yep. The United States have a long tradition of doing miracles when it comes to logistics." Jack snorted. "Of course, I can't take all credit since I spent most of the last week on Etheria."

"What a coincidence," Catra commented.

"I know - but duty comes first."

Once more, their grins matched. It was… kind of weird, in Adora's opinion.

"Colonel O'Neill - we shouldn't leave our guests standing," General Haig said, nodding at the table.

"Right, right! This way, please!" Jack gestured to the table with a flourish, as if they hadn't seen it from the entrance. "We've left one spot free for Swift Wind."

Indeed, there was one chair missing - and there was open space behind it, more than enough for him to stand there comfortably.

"Oh, nice!" Swift Wind beamed.

"We try." Jack smiled.

Unfortunately, the route Swift Wind took wasn't quite as roomy, and Jack's grin vanished when Swift Wind's wings almost pushed two people out of their chairs. "Ah. We asked an expert on horses. We probably should have asked an expert on pegasuses."

"You have more like Swift Wind on Earth?" Perfuma asked. "I thought you didn't have any magic for a thousand years…"

"They're talking about fiction," Glimmer told her. "Imaginary creatures."

"Ah."

"I am sorry," Swift Wind said as he settled at his spot.

"It's OK," Jack told him.

"Although, it is intriguing," Castaspella said. "You closely match creatures of legend and myth on Earth. Perhaps those creatures lived on Earth during the time it had magic." She smiled. "It bears investigating."

"But after the party, I think," Jack said with a slightly strained-looking smile, gesturing again at the table.

"Oh, yes. We can discuss this afterwards - do you have quarters here?" Castaspella asked.

Jack's smile grew more strained, Adora noticed, as General Hammond's eyebrows rose.

And Catra was grinning again.

But all things considered, the party was off to a good start.

Samantha Carter was late for the New Year's party. It wasn't her fault - well, not really. That experiment had run a bit longer than expected, and cleaning up after it, as well as sorting the data, had taken a bit longer as well. If she hadn't been roped - ordered - into helping with the party, she would have finished in time, of course. But between the mission to Etheria and the scramble to turn a casual party for soldiers into as close one could get to a state dinner without turning it into a state dinner, there simply hadn't been any time.

Of course, usually, that wouldn't be much of an issue - she had been late to the last two New Year's parties as well. As long as she arrived in time to grab something to eat from the chow line - the buffet, she corrected herself - no one made much of a fuss. Although the Colonel would probably have threatened to drag her out of her lab if he hadn't been swamped with the preparations himself, she added to herself with a smile.

Things were different this time, of course, but she was only late by about fifteen minutes. And she had a good excuse. Not even Sidorov could complain about her work taking precedence. Her presence wasn't needed amongst the welcoming party, anyway - the Colonel could handle that perfectly fine, no matter what he claimed. Especially since he had Daniel with him - her friend had no excuse not to attend since his work didn't rely on experiments; books could be put aside without ruining an expensive set of components.

She approached the door, nodding at the two guards outside - marines had drawn the short straw, it seemed; security had been increased as a response to the additional guests - and opened the door.

And blinked. She had known that the decorations would be more extensive than usual, but… This was a bit excessive. No, not a bit - a lot. She couldn't even see the walls behind all the plants, and only the lighting fixtures in the ceiling were not covered by foliage and flowers, either. Flowers that looked as if the decorator had raided an exotic greenhouse. Well, Perfuma loved it - she was beaming as she pointed at a particularly colourful flower dangling overhead.

Sam managed to greet her friends without being too distracted, but as soon as she was seated next to the Colonel, she leaned over and said in a low voice: "I don't remember seeing that in the plans."

"Yep." The Colonel grinned. "It seems no one told General Petit that you should not comment about the challenge of decorating a mess hall on short notice when a magical princess with control over plants can overhear it and wants to be helpful."

"Ah." That explained it. And why the French General was so focused on his discussion with King Micah and ignoring the glares from his fellow officers. And why Catra was smirking.

Well, no harm done - Sam trusted Perfuma's power; she didn't doubt that the plants would hold up nicely. Probably better than the original decorations since those had been thrown together quite hastily - Sam had been there when the changes had been made.

She blinked. Maybe she should ask Perfuma to ensure that the plants would come off without too much effort. Or wilted in the morning, or whatever. The princess might be easily capable of creating plants that thrived underground and could take root in concrete. Or at least adhere to it. And if those were genetically - magically - altered plants based on alien flora, they might have just violated a few laws…

"Cleaning up afterwards might be a bit of a challenge," she commented as she filled her glass.

The Colonel frowned for a moment. Then his eyes widened, and his lips moved as he muttered something under his breath that Sam was sure was a curse.

Well, that wasn't her problem. And she wouldn't mind a greener mess hall, either - Stargate Command was moving anyway.

"...and don't worry, the plants won't require too much care - a bit of watering and the artificial light will be enough to sustain them as long as you want to keep them going since I changed the foliage so they can extract nitrogen from the air to serve as fertiliser."

Catra smirked as she listened to Perfuma's enthusiastic explanation to the not-quite-so-enthusiastic General Hammond.

"Catra!" Adora hissed.

"Hm?"

"It's not funny!"

"Yes, it is," Catra disagreed. And it was. The general was obviously trying to find a way to politely tell the princess that they didn't want permanent flowers in the mess hall without making her feel bad for misunderstanding their intentions. And probably without Perfuma changing the flowers into vegetables or something.

"That is very impressive," he said. "Although we were not planning to have the plants take root here."

Perfuma beamed at him. "Oh, don't worry about that! I changed the plants so their roots don't bury into the ground - or the walls and ceiling here - but simply adhere to the surfaces. They'll also filter out some of the pollutants in the air and improve the microclimate in the room, so your air filters should be under less stress."

"Fascinating." Haig leaned over. "Could this replace conventional air conditioning in underground bases? Combined with the Tok'ra tunnelling technology, this could provide forward bases with greater autarchy."

"Oh, I would have to modify and optimise the plants for that, and you'd need a pretty large area covered - depending on how many people are in the bunker, of course; the fewer you have, the fewer plants you need to provide enough oxygen."

Catra didn't miss the subtle frown Hammond sent at the other general and grinned again. "I think that would require further research," he said. "We can't really use untested technology in our bases."

"Oh, we can test it easily - this room can serve as a testing site!" Perfuma turned her head and called out to Entrapta. "Entrapta! Can you test how well the plants here filter and replace the air? So we can use them in bases?"

"Sure thing!" Entrpata nodded. "I'll set up some sensors to collect data!"

Hammond's frown wasn't subtle at all any more. "I think such a decision needs to be discussed amongst the command council."

Haig raised his eyebrows. "We are already using this technology, so to speak, so it would behove us to thoroughly test it as the opportunity presents itself."

"And Perfuma can adjust the plants as you wish," Scorpia chimed in, beaming at her lover. "If you want different colours for daily use, for example."

"Or adaptive colouration." Perfuma nodded. "If you wish to make the plants more discreet. I wouldn't think it's necessary - quite the contrary; plants add so much character and comfort to a bunker - but I am a bit biased."

"Oh, yes! The Fright Zone has become so much more appealing and nicer thanks to all the plants covering the buildings! And that's all your work!"

And more beaming followed. Hammond glanced at O'Neill for some reason, but the other man was still talking with Castaspella. And Haig nodded.

"It seems that the plants are going to stay," Catra commented as she stood. "I'm going to grab another plate. Want some as well?"

"Uh…" Adora joined her. "Yes."

As they walked over to the buffet, Catra overheard Swift Wind talking to Dr Fraiser.

"...but why would I have problems with people eating cows or pigs? They're nasty! Have you ever tried to reason with a bull? Besides, you don't have any problem eating them either, right?"

"Ah, no, of course not." Fraiser grimaced and tried to hide it by taking another sip from her glass.

Catra smiled. Good food, good entertainment and good friends. This was going to be a great party!

This was a disaster! Jack O'Neill already knew it. And he was going to get the blame for it, even though it wasn't his fault! The mess hall had been transformed into an indoor jungle - at least the walls and the ceiling; the floor seemed to be unchanged so far, but he expected some plants sprouting up in a corner near the buffet as soon as someone mentioned the lack of fresh fruits in the regular menu where Perfuma could overhear it.

And he had thought that Entrapta was the one princess to be watched lest she started some unauthorised alterations to the base or unleashed some replicating bots or grey goo! If only he had known…

And it wasn't as if he could've stopped Perfuma anyway - as a colonel, he couldn't just go over the heads of the generals in charge of Stargate Command. At least not when they were right there. That simply wasn't done - short of a life-and-death situation, of course. But an alien princess enthusiastically redecorating the room after misunderstanding Petit's comment wasn't such an emergency. Not even when the entire command council was just sitting there and staring as the room turned into what could have passed for a jungle set of an old tv show. At least Haig seemed to be more intrigued than shocked by the whole thing, but that could just be that British stiff upper lip thing. Jack somehow doubted that the limey was too fond of his base turning into a jungle.

And speaking of jungle… He glanced at the ceiling, squinting a bit. The last thing he wanted was some alien plant dropping pollen into his food or something.

"Don't worry. Perfuma is an expert with perfect control over her creations. Only cactuses gave her some trouble, but she has overcome that for the most part, I believe." Castaspella smiled at him.

Jack forced himself to smile. "Yeah, you know - trust but verify. Instincts."

"Of course, if you are truly worried, I could cast a spell to protect our food, although it might be seen as a slight against Perfuma's competence."

"No, no, that's OK." Jack wasn't really worried about inhaling or eating weird alien pollen - Perfuma didn't strike him as the type who was overconfident or reckless. And he didn't really want Castaspella doing magic right now, either. Her attempts to show him how useful magic could be were subtle, but he hadn't missed how she had never failed to offer a magical solution to the smallest problem ever since he declined her offer to become a student at Etheria's flying magic school.

As if a bit of convenience would be enough to go back to school - and leave his team in the middle of a war. And learn magic.

"Oh, I like this dessert."

"Yeah, it's not blue jello, but apple pie is an American classic." Jack smiled. It was actually far better than the pies they usually served in the Air Force - they had ordered them from a bakery in Colorado Springs. And paid a premium for the rush order.

"I didn't see blue jello at the dessert buffet, though, I think," Castaspella added with a slight frown.

"That's because blue jello is not sophisticated enough for such a swanky event," Jack told her.

Daniel, sitting across from him next to Castaspella, sighed. "That's not quite correct. Blue jello is… well, mass-produced."

"And tasty!" Jack cut in.

"And full of additives of questionable quality," Daniel continued.

"That's what makes it so good!"

Castaspella snorted at that.

"We can sneak you a cup later," Jack told her. "I've got a key to the kitchen."

"Jack!" Daniel gasped.

"What?" Jack pouted at him. "I've got a key for every door here. Legitimately."

"That's not what I meant!"

"I think I would like to taste this blue jello, if only to compare it to your other fare."

"Jack! Are you honestly trying to take our guests on a snack raid?" Daniel looked aghast.

Well, Jack had been joking, but now that he thought of it, it seemed like…

"A snack raid? That sounds like an adventure!"

…a really dumb idea, Jack finished his thought. How had he missed Sea Hawk passing by their seats, carrying a tray loaded with all the dessert dishes? A tray the man was now holding high as he posed, one boot placed on an empty chair. Attracting the attention of everyone in view. Which included all the generals. And the princesses. And everyone seemed to be frowning at him and Sea Hawk.

"No, we're not going to raid the kitchen," Mermista snapped.

"But… Jack said so!" Sea Hawk, still balancing about a week's worth of dessert on the tray, turned to pout at the princess.

"He was just flirting with Castaspella," Mermista retorted. "It wasn't a general invitation. Now come and put the tray down."

"Ah, of course! That's different, then!"

Jack blinked as the man winked at him and Castaspella. "That's not…"

But Sea Hawk was already walking away, humming what sounded like a shanty.

Castaspella was chuckling, and Jack hoped that was because she knew he hadn't been flirting with her.

He really didn't need any more rumours about alien women trying to seduce him - or, worse, him trying to seduce them. If Daniel started to call him 'Kirk'...

At least Carter didn't seem to have noticed the whole thing - she was still deep in conversation with Entrapta.

Well, things were going better than Adora had expected - feared, actually. Most seemed to like what Perfuma had done to the plant decorations, even though a few seemed worried about it. But General Haig was quite interested in the potential applications of those plants for the war effort. At least as far as Adora could tell - the man was, well, he didn't seem very emotional. When he smiled, it was a polite smile, and when he didn't smile, it was a polite non-smile. Something, Jack once had told her, was typical for the English. Stiff upper lip, he had called it. Although it wasn't a medical condition - she had asked.

Adora wasn't sure if he was correct, though. What she had seen of the English in their news seemed to contradict it - they had looked like a rather rowdy bunch to her. Especially during protests and when watching sports. Some sports, at least. But then, Britain had more people than Etheria, so it should be obvious that they would be at least as diverse as the Etherians. Probably - she wasn't an expert on that stuff, and both Bow and Daniel were currently busy talking with others, so it would be rude to interrupt them. Especially since they seemed to be having fun.

Like Catra, who was on her third trip to the dessert buffet. "They should be serving that stuff every day," she said as she retook her seat.

Adora snatched a muffin - blueberry - from the plate and nodded. "Yes."

"So, why don't you?" Catra asked General Hammond between devouring two such muffins herself.

Adora refrained from frowning. Unlike on other occasions, Catra wasn't intentionally rude, simply caught up by how good the dessert was.

"We don't have the budget for it," General Hammond replied. "And if we had the budget, we probably wouldn't find enough suppliers for everyone."

"Oh." Well, it wasn't too bad - compared to the Horde rations, even the regular food Jack kept grumbling about was good. But Bright Moon's food was better, even in the field.

"You should reevaluate your priorities," Catra said with a smirk. "Some Horde soldiers deserted for better food."

"Really?" That was the first time Adora had heard this. She knew - although she had only been told after the war - that there had been a thriving trade in Alliance food in the Horde, but for people to desert for it…

"Oh, yes. Glimmer and Bow told me about your reaction to decent food." Catra snorted.

Adora blushed as she remembered that day. "That was after I had deserted already!"

"Ah." General Hammond chuckled.

And that had been the day that Thaymor had been attacked. By Catra. Adora felt her smile slip.

Catra shrugged. "Anyway, we'll make sure we'll get our food from our own sources, then."

"That might be bad for morale," General Hammond pointed out. "If people in the same unit eat different food, that could breed resentment."

"Really?" Adora frowned. Both the Horde and the Alliance had different food for the leaders than for the soldiers.

"Don't you have officer's clubs as well in your army?" Catra asked.

Hammond shook his head. "That's not the same. In the field, both enlisted and officers eat the same food. At the base, officers might have the opportunity to go to restaurants - they receive money to buy their food."

"Ah." Adora nodded. That was different - although not quite as different as the general claimed it was, at least as she understood things.

"Doesn't sound that equal to me," Catra commented. "Though it depends on how long you spend in the field. And how things work out on the ships. I don't think we'll have restaurants on the ships."

Adora didn't think so either. Adapting a frigate to transport human troops in sizeable numbers was already complicated. The soldiers expected more comfortable quarters than what the clones and bots had used under Horde Prime. And that meant that, unless some structural changes were made, the troop complement of a frigate would be on the short side. Which meant they would need more frigates for transport - and while they would still be able to fight, you generally were not supposed to use transport ships on the frontlines. If the troops expected restaurants and clubs in a frigate, then that would reduce the transport capacity even more…

"I don't think so either," General Hammond said. "Though, even if it is playing to the worst stereotype about the Air Force, I expect our field bases will be quite comfortable."

"Oh, definitely!" Adora smiled. "With the Tok'ra's technology, we'll be able to build and expand a base quickly and easily. And if Perfuma and General Haig's plans work out, it will be even easier. Fresh produce inside the base, for example!"

"We should put in some fish tanks, too," Catra added. "Like in restaurants."

"I don't know if we could put in enough such tanks to feed a base," General Hammond replied politely.

"Well, we could install clone pods for fish." Catra grinned, and Adora wasn't sure if her lover was serious. Although…

"Yes. I think Entrapta mentioned cloned meat as a way to make supplying troops easier. With Perfuma's help, we could probably produce both vegetables and meat on any planet - or in a ship," Adora explained.

"I see. But would that be safe?"

"Probably safer than using animals and plants from wherever," Catra told him. "You'll know exactly where the cloned animals have been and what they have eaten."

"We have strict standards for our food production," General Hammond said.

"Yeah, but whether or not they're strict enough seems a bit controversial." Catra shrugged again. "And we could pick the best animals for cloning - the costs are the same per animal, anyway."

"I see." Hammond nodded. "Of course, that would be a boon for the war effort, though it might raise some concern amongst the civilian population."

"Really?" Adora frowned. "Because they don't trust the technology?" She had seen a rather passionate debate about genetically modified food once, she remembered.

"There is that, But that technology could also render our entire agricultural sector obsolete," he said.

"Oh." Adora wasn't an expert on Earth, but she knew enough to tell that this would probably cause trouble.

"Yeah." Catra nodded. "But it'll greatly simplify logistics. And logistics win wars."

"Yes. But at what cost? If we lose the support of the people, we'll lose the war." Hammond shrugged. "And the agricultural lobby has a great deal of influence in Washington - and in Brussels."

That was the capital of the European Union. If you could call it a capital since the Union wasn't a country but more of an alliance, as Adora understood it. Still, with so many of those countries in the Alliance, using cloned meat for food might be more of a problem than Adora had thought.

"Well, then we can keep the technology to ourselves," Catra suggested.

General Hammond winced a little. "A lot of our agricultural businesses are also expecting contracts to supply the armed forces."

"It sounds like those businesses have more power on Earth than princesses have on Etheria," Catra commented.

Adora nodded in agreement.

"It's not quite the same, I would say, but the government has to balance the military needs with those of the economy." General Hammond inclined his head.

Catra snorted. "Whatever it is, it's a problem if it means we'll have to eat bad food in the field!"

"The regular food is not that bad," Adora pointed out. "It's much better than Horde rations."

"That's a very low bar," Catra retorted. "Anyway…" She trailed off and frowned. "I think Sidorov made a mistake. Frosta looks like she's about to hit him with an ice gauntlet."

Adora turned her head. Oh, no - Frosta did look angry. Not angry enough to actually start a fight, though. Or so Adora hoped. But… "What is he saying?"

Catra cocked her head. "Oh… he's talking about Russia. And the North Pole."

That sounded safe, actually.

"But he's sounding very arrogant - patronising," Catra went on. "He could only make things worse if he blew up her palace at her ball."

Adora winced. "We have to stop that. We…"

A gust of wind blew most of the napkins on the table across the room - Swift Wind had flared his wings, this time knocking a man out of his seat. "Sorry!" he said before turning to look at one of the young soldiers who had wandered over to talk to him during dessert. "See? They fold out like that!"

"And you can fly with them?" the woman asked. "With a rider?"

"Of course! I can show you!"

Adora gasped. "Not indoors!"

Swift Wind turned his head. "Of course not, Adora! You'd hit your head on the ceiling here. But we could step outside for a moment, and I could show them how we can fly."

The soldiers - many of the women, Adora noticed - nodded eagerly.

"Ah…" Adora glanced at Frosta, whose hands had disappeared under the table. That wasn't a good sign. But maybe…

"Don't look at me," Catra told her with a snort. "The kid won't listen to me, and Sidorov won't either."

"Adora, come! Just a short flight!"

"You could take one of us up!"

"Or all of us!"

"Ah, I am sorry, but I am Adora's faithful steed, ladies."

"And this is a party, not a rodeo," Jack stepped in. "So, please don't bother our guests about giving you rides, OK?"

"Yes, sir!" Half of them saluted. The rest pouted. But it seemed they had one crisis averted. That still left Frosta to, ah, calm down. And… what was Entrapta doing there at the sound system?

Samantha Carter caught the flying napkin before it hit Entrapta in the face, then glanced at the culprit. Just to check that it wasn't anything serious; this was a party, not a mission, and she was here to enjoy herself.

And it didn't seem to be anything serious. Swift Wind was flaring his wings, probably to impress what could only be called a bunch of fans. And the Colonel was there. Nothing to be concerned about, then. Sam could focus with Entrapta on her current project.

"...and with that, we should be able to increase the output by three hundred per cent. Now we need to sync that with the holoprojectors. Hm. Maybe… Like this?" Entrapta pointed at the interface of the sound system.

Sam checked the connection while she quickly ran through the specs in her head. "Yes, I think that should work - provided that the emulator can handle the data and extrapolate a 3D projection from the television signal."

"Oh, it should! I've run months of broadcasting data through it, with all the multiple angles, and the neural matrix's error rate has steadily gone down. And it's just for fun, so some mistakes are acceptable, right?"

"Yes." Probably - there might be the matter of copyrighted material, but adapting a 3D projector could be called transformative, couldn't it? Not that there was a chance that a lawsuit would go anywhere, anyway - or be launched at all; people wouldn't risk getting excluded from using the technology for their own business. Provided it worked, of course.

Which it should - Sam had gone through Entrapta's data between the main course and dessert, and it was a really simple project; all the crucial work had been done already, and now it was just about adapting the different machines.

"Good! Now… power supply."

"There's an outlet there."

"Right! Hordak can plug in the converter once he's back from the shuttle."

A sudden commotion - chairs being pushed back, people getting up in a hurry - made Sam turn around. Sidorov was at the centre of it, with Hammond next to him, and Frosta marching away from… an ice sculpture of a monster, a monstrous walrus, it looked like, taking up a big part of the table in front of the Russian? Including his plate?

Well, it wasn't her problem, and General Hammond was already handling it. Although Sam still took a few readings, just to have some data on magically created ice and how it reacted to the environment. That might be useful for a number of projects.

"Oh, Frosta looks mad!" Entrapta commented as the young princess stomped out of the room. "I wonder what he said to her."

"I don't know," Sam replied. "It could have been anything."

"It was probably a misunderstanding. The general has a granddaughter her age."

Sam suppressed a frown as she turned her head. Lenkova had joined her and Entrapta without Sam noticing her approaching them. Granted, according to the Colonel, the Russian was a spy, but still - Sam wasn't used to being blindsided like that.

"Oh?" Entrapta smiled at the other woman. "You think he mistook her for his granddaughter?"

Lenkova blinked, then grinned, if a bit weakly. "In a manner of speaking, da. He tends to be a bit protective of children, and the princess struck me as… not appreciating that."

Sam pressed her lips together. She didn't know Frosta very well, but from what she had seen and heard, the girl did have a chip on her shoulder about being treated as a child. Even though she was a teenager.

"Ah!" Entrapta nodded. "Yes, Frosta likes to fight and protect others." She cocked her head to the side. "Oh, Micah is going after her. I think."

Indeed, the king was leaving the room as well.

"Is that a good thing?" Lenkova asked.

"Yes. I think." Entrapta shrugged, then smiled at the Russian. "So, are you interested in music?"

"Music?" Lenkova raised her eyebrows but otherwise didn't react to the abrupt change of subject.

"I noticed that we don't have a live band here, so Sam and I decided to get the next best thing: A holographic projection of a band! Any band! You just insert the data from a video, and the projector takes it and turns it into a projection! Of the band."

"That sounds… difficult."

"Oh, it's not too difficult. In theory - we're testing the theory now!"

Lenkova glanced at Sam. "I see."

Sam smiled, although she couldn't help showing her teeth. "It's perfectly safe."

"I didn't doubt that." Lenkova didn't quite snap at her, but the Russian pressed her lips together for a second after her small outburst. "I just wondered why you're doing it now and not, ah, earlier."

"We didn't think of it before now," Entrapta explained. "And we were busy. And it's fun, and you're supposed to have fun at a party."

"Ah." Lenkova seemed to accept that.

"Here is the converter." Hordak had returned, handing the piece of technology over, then cocked his head sideways as he looked at Lenkova. "Are you here to help?"

"What? No. I was just curious," she replied.

Hordak nodded but kept looking at her, Sam noticed. "About the project?"

"Yes."

"Well, now you know! Do you have a favourite musician?" Entrapta asked as she knelt down, her hair fanning out as it grabbed cables and started plugging them in.

"Bogdan Titomir," Lenkova said. "Although I doubt that you have videos of him."

"Emily, check our data!" Entrapta ordered.

The bot beeped in response, and Sam went back to checking the interface when the Colonel approached them.

"What are you doing, Carter?" He looked a bit harried, she noticed.

"We're installing a holoprojector," Entrapta explained without looking up from where she was now halfway under the main amp, which was held up by her hair.

"And I asked if they had videos of Bogdan Titomir," Lenkova added.

"Can't say I know the man," the Colonel said, glancing at her. "And how are you liking the party so far, Lieutenant?"

"It's… interesting. But a bit tame," she replied.

"Tame?" The Colonel's eyebrows rose.

Sam felt a bit surprised herself. They had magical princesses and an alicorn here, the ceiling and walls were covered by magical plants trying to turn the scene into a jungle, and Lenkova called it tame?

"In Russia, everyone would be drunk by now." The woman smiled a bit ruefully, in Sam's opinion.

"Ah, yes. No drunks here," the Colonel said. "Which is a good thing, of course - imagine trying to tell Frosta she couldn't get a drink while everyone else was drinking." He looked at Sidorov, who was now seated again and scowling at General Hammond.

"Why not serve her a drink, then?" Lenkova asked.

"Because drunk teenagers with magic are as bad as drunk teenagers with weapons," the Colonel said, clenching his teeth for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. "Imagine if Perfuma were drunk doing this!"

"Ah." Lenkova nodded as if that hadn't been obvious. Then she glanced at Castaspella, who was still sitting at the table. Good. "Is that what you talked about with the witch?"

"Sorceress," the Colonel corrected her. "Witches are different - it's a touchy thing for them or something."

"Ah." Lenkova smiled as if that had answered her question - which it had, of course.

"Yes." Entrapta slid out from under the amplifier. "All set here!"

Sam looked at her readouts. "Same here."

"Good! Then we can now test it!"

"Test what exactly?" the Colonel asked.

"I told you - a holoprojector!" Entrapta smiled. "Switch it on, Hordak - wait, we need to pick a video first!"

Emily beeped.

"You found one? Great! Science buddy, hit it!"

A moment later, the machinery they had spent half an hour setting up sprang to life, and a life-sized hologram of a singer appeared on the small stage set up in the room.

Not just a singer, a rapper, Sam realised as the man opened his mouth.

"You made this for a Russian Rapper?" The Colonel sounded both amused and put off.

"Ukrainian, actually," Lenkova corrected him. "At least these days."

"And they like it!" Entrapta beamed.

Indeed, people were clapping and cheering. Of course, seeing a hologram would be a novelty, and there were a significant number of Russian soldiers present who recognised the singer, but she wasn't wrong.

Sam smiled at the Colonel.

Of course, he had to have the last word: "Well, as long as you don't show a polka band…"

Unfortunately, Entrapta overheard him. "What's polka?"

But clearing up that wasn't Sam's job either. She was here to have fun, as the Colonel had told her three times today already.

And she was having fun.

Until she noticed the officer in charge of the night shift entering the hall - and heading straight towards the table with the generals. Something must have come up.