Work Text:
Relatively speaking, the blast was a minor one. One of the four capacitors installed to regulate the power provided by the First Ones disc had failed - probably from undetected internal damage suffered during a previous power surge. Had all of the capacitors failed, the resulting explosion would have destroyed Hordak’s sanctum. As it was, it simply hurled the warlord and Entrapta across the room instead as the circuit shut down to protect the portal generator from overloading. It could have been worse, but it was still an irritation - especially when it could have been avoided by testing the damned capacitors first.
Hordak was the first to his feet, glowering at the smoking remains. Entrapta had landed on her chest with a grunt a short distance away, no doubt winded by the impact thanks to her fragile Etherian biology. At least her pet robot had avoided harm as it had been sent to retrieve some additional insulated cables in case of any short circuits. If it had sustained as much as a dent then the princess would have immediately dropped everything to repair the thing. Striding over to the control panel, Hordak brushed some fragments of ceramic shielding off it and shut the connection to the First Ones artifact. It certainly had produced sufficient power, but harnessing that power had so far proved problematic. The last thing he wanted was for his carefully salvaged portal technology to be damaged. That would be a significant setback.
He had started decoupling the connections to all of the capacitors - this time he’d replace all of them, not just the blown one - when he realised Entrapta hadn’t come over to offer her usual commentary on what had gone wrong. The habit was annoying, but the girl’s insights were often useful so Hordak permitted it. Looking back to where she had fallen, he saw that Entrapta was still struggling to rise. The princess had propped herself up with her hair, but her legs appeared to be unable to support her weight, sliding across the floor as if it was ice instead of metal. Frowning, Hordak went over to her. It would be just typical of his experiences on this ball of dirt if she had landed on her head and concussed herself.
“Get up,” Hordak ordered as he leaned down to seize Entrapta’s left arm, hauling her to her feet.
“…trying…” she replied thickly, her breathing coming in laboured gasps. Then, as she turned towards him, Hordak’s eyes widened. The princess had been holding one of her tools - a screwdriver - when the capacitor had blown. She had landed on it. The handle was jutting out of her chest just to the left of her sternum, a red circle slowly spreading around it. Only the handle. The shaft - five inches of hardened steel - had been driven into her body. Following Hordak’s gaze, Entrapta looked down. “Huh. That shouldn’t be there…” As she reached down to pull it out, Hordak slapped her hand away.
“Don’t touch it,” he ordered, lowering her back to the floor with much more care than he’d used to pull her up. “And don’t move.” Looking around for Imp, Hordak caught sight of him perched high in the rafters, watching nervously. Despite the creature’s innate curiosity, it had absolutely no desire to get any closer to this particular scene.
Looking back at Entrapta, Hordak’s jaw tightened. The princess was still conscious, but appeared to have lost all interest in the screwdriver, gazing at some point over Hordak’s shoulder with a bewildered frown. He didn’t like the way her eyes were losing focus. And he especially didn’t like the way the screwdriver handle was moving with small, rhythmic jerks. It was either far too close to her heart, or had pierced it. Given the angle of the handle and the length of the shaft, the latter was much more likely. Moving her could kill her. As could waiting for a stretcher. And doing nothing - while the easiest option - would certainly kill her. Hordak weighed his options.
Sliding his arms beneath Entrapta’s shoulders and knees, Hordak lifted her smoothly then looked back at Imp. “Find Modulok,” Hordak ordered. “If he’s not in his laboratory, tell him to go there and wait for me. I need his services.” With an assenting chirp, the small creature launched himself into the air and flew off. Imp was capricious, but he never defied a direct order.
Hordak didn’t run - not only was it undignified, but a terrible idea in this scenario - but he did walk as quickly as possible while keeping Entrapta’s body still. She was still breathing and her eyes were still open, but the princess made no attempt to move or speak. That was also concerning. If the hall guards were surprised to see Hordak carrying her, they were astute enough not to show it, though Hordak could feel their gaze following him down the corridor. Entering the medical bay, Hordak strode through it without pausing, pushing through the double doors into the surgery chamber beyond. He didn’t stop there either, continuing through another set of doors and along a short corridor before entering a brightly lit circular room lined with rows of glass vessels.
Modulok was waiting for him. Today, the Horde’s chief scientist was quadrupedal, with the scaled forelegs of some giant bird of prey and the hind legs of some ursine beast. Currently he possessed four arms as well, all humanoid for once, one set crossed over his lower torso and the other steepled beneath his chins.
“Lord Hordak,” both heads said in unison with a joint nod of respect. “Your creature says you have need of me.” Imp chirped agreement from where he was perched on top of one of the larger glass vessels, this one containing one of Modulok’s alternative torsos. The sharp green eyes of the horned head looked down at Entrapta while the catlike pupils of the other remained on Hordak. “That would be why I imagine.”
“Yes,” Hordak replied, moving past Modulok’s patchwork form to set Entrapta down on the table in the centre of the room. At first glance it looked like an operating table, but a second look might have noticed the seams that indicated the surface could split apart, the electronic panels along its sides… and the restraints.
Both of Modulok’s heads regarded Entrapta for a few seconds as he approached the table, one humming pensively while the other clicked its tongue. The cat-eyed head then swivelled to look at Hordak. “Female Etherian, young adult, currently moribund,” it stated dispassionately. “Harvest or salvage?”
“Salvage,” Hordak replied - cursing inwardly at how quickly he’d said it. Modulok gave no indication that he had either noticed or cared - in a species remarkable for its lack of emotion Modulok still managed to be particularly detached.
“Salvage will require significant resources, Lord Hordak,” the cat-eyed head informed him. The horned head was still studying Entrapta, and as the other head spoke one set of arms swivelled in their sockets and began to operate one of the panels on the table.
“The benefits outweigh the costs,” Hordak said firmly as robotic arms emerged from the floor around the table. “She is useful to me.”
The cat-eyed head nodded in acceptance. “Understood. Prognosis…” Modulok’s head tipped to one side in consideration, almost as if he was waiting for input from his second head. Perhaps he was. “…sixty-seven percent.”
“Good.” Hordak didn’t follow the statement up with threats of dire consequences - for one thing Modulok was too valuable to threaten. For another, he was one of the few - very few - underlings Hordak actually respected. He acknowledged the multi-limbed creature as an intellectual equal - even if that intellect was focused on biological science instead of technological.
Then there was movement behind Modulok - or rather, lack of movement. Entrapta was no longer breathing.
“Fifty-three percent,” Modulok corrected himself, then turned both heads towards the operating table.
oOo
It would have been beneath Hordak’s dignity and a waste of his time for him to stay and watch Modulok work. Instead he returned to the sanctum and returned to work. Once the drones had cleared away the shattered capacitor and removed the three he no longer trusted, Hordak had them bring replacements. This time he had each one extensively tested before being installed back into the circuit. Moving over to the control panel, Hordak’s hand hovered over the activation switch. Entrapta would have wanted to see this. But why should he care about what Entrapta wanted?
A rustle behind him made Hordak turn. Imp was scampering across the floor towards him, grinning widely, and despite himself Hordak felt a surge of relief. Imp only smiled like that when the creature had something he wanted to tell him. Skidding to a stop a few feet in front of the warlord, Imp tipped his head back and opened his mouth. It was Modulok’s voice that came out.
“I am pleased to report success Lord Hordak,” the recording stated. There was no pleasure or pride in the voice, only a detached satisfaction. “I will submit a report on the subject’s condition shortly.” Closing his mouth, Imp looked up at Hordak with his head on one side, waiting to see if there would be a reply to take back. Turning back to the control panel, Hordak considered his response as he reached towards the switch… then curled his hand into a fist as he cursed softly. It had been a long, long time since he had found what he should do at odds with what he wanted to do. And even longer since he’d taken the latter option.
oOo
“…independent respiration resumed upon resuscitation following cardiothoracic surgery.” Modulok finished. At some point the scientist-surgeon had gained an additional set of arms, and all six were currently clasped behind his back as he delivered his report. If Modulok was surprised that Hordak had wanted to hear the report in person - and while standing in the room that Entrapta had been moved to - he didn’t show it.
“You have served me well,” Hordak replied, somewhat absently. He was standing by Entrapta’s bed - arms crossed behind his back just like Modulok in case he did anything foolish like take the princess’ hand. Her pet robot - which had appeared in the medical bay without being instructed or summoned, still carrying a bundle of cables - stood unobtrusively in a corner of the room. Hordak had already ordered it to leave. It had ignored him. “Recovery prognosis?”
“Chance of survival is excellent - ninety-two percent,” Only the cat-eyed head spoke - Modulok’s horned head was busy analysing the readouts on the monitor beside the bed. Various wires snaked out from the device and disappeared beneath the blanket that covered Entrapta to her shoulders. The princess was motionless, her eyes closed, but her chest rose and fell steadily. “Sedation is recommended for the next forty-eight hours to allow internal damage to heal. Subject should remain under observation for a further seventy-two hours as neurological complications are possible and cannot be accurately predicted until subject regains consciousness. Upon discharge, subject is encouraged to remain active and engage in light exercise but exertion is strongly discouraged. Recovery period of six to eight weeks should be considered before returning to active duty.”
“Very well,” Hordak acknowledged with a short nod. “Your work is exceptional as always. Notify me immediately if there are any complications.” At Hordak’s abrupt gesture, Imp leapt from his shoulder to the foot of Entrapta’s bed and watched his master leave before turning towards Modulok and settling down to watch him. If Modulok was perturbed by the scrutiny, he didn’t show it. He’d been the one to give Imp a voicebox to begin with.
oOo
Five days later, Entrapta left the medical bay with Emily following behind her. Hordak had not returned, but Scorpia had been a constant presence and while Catra had maintained her usual aloofness she had still visited at least once a day. Entrapta had appreciated the company, though she’d also enjoyed her discussions with Modulok. Even when he was shining bright lights directly into her eyes. Or testing her reflexes. Or jabbing needles into her to either draw blood or to test if she could feel them. He’d been very interested with her hair as well, and especially what stimuli it responded to. (not many) And best of all, he’d given her the screwdriver back after explaining in detail how he had removed it and what parts of her anatomy it had been plunged through. Entrapta didn’t really care, it wasn’t the screwdriver’s fault that she had landed on it. It was still her favourite flat head.
Modulok had said something about not returning to active duty for an amount of weeks that had seemed excessive, but by the time Entrapta had reached her quarters she was starting to think he might have had a point. Her scar ached abysmally - not the one that the screwdriver had left, which didn’t hurt at all, but the one running down her sternum which had saved her life. Was that irony? Entrapta wasn’t sure.
As the door to her quarters - really no more than a room with a bed and worktable and an ensuite with basic hygiene facilities - slid open, Entrapta immediately noticed that it was clean. The pile of dishes that she was going to return to the canteen at some point had gone, as had the dozen or so mugs that she had accumulated between the worktable and nightstand. Entrapta would have guessed that it was Scorpia’s work even without the note in her handwriting which read ‘Welcome back - now get some rest or I’ll get Catra to yell at you!’ that was lying on the nightstand.
Despite Entrapta’s earlier plans of going straight back to Hordak’s sanctum to continue their work, right now rest sounded like a good idea. From experience, Entrapta knew that once she took one of the painkillers Modulok had given her she would barely be capable of standing, let alone science. But as she approached the bed she noticed something that made her pause. Not the fact that the blankets and sheets had been washed - obviously more of Scorpia’s work - but the thing that was lying on top of them looking at first glance like one of the spare bodies in Modulok’s laboratory.
It was clearly armour - some kind of extended breastplate that went up to the neck and down to the hips, completely covering the torso and abdomen. As Entrapta lifted it off her bed she realised several things in short order. It was metal, but completely encased in a layer of rubber - so that it wouldn’t conduct electricity she guessed. It was hinged at the waist to allow movement. It was exactly her size, fitted with straps to go around her neck, arms and waist. And there was a note underneath it - this time in Hordak’s writing.
‘You will wear this in the sanctum from now on,’ it read. ‘No exceptions.’