Chapter Text
It was on the second month of the two hundredth and thirty fifth year of Lord Hordak’s reign that Catra packed her ration bars, several drinking canteens and a few editions of unofficial and somewhat illicit magazines of a rather dirty nature into her bag and left her squad’s dormitory for the final time.
Today she was about to undertake a task that was borderline impossible and would be punishable by a swift execution should she fail.
She was going to escape the Fright Zone.
To be honest, she genuinely wondered why she hadn’t made the attempt sooner while she walked at a casual pace down the dreary corridor that smelled of oil and rust.
‘Oh, right. Shadow Weaver would murder me.’ Catra thought. Ordinarily such incentive would be more than enough to keep Catra within the walls of the Fright Zone, especially since the old bag would most likely make the death as drawn out and as painful as she could. However not a few days ago that incentive lost its value, not out of any mercy on Shadow Weaver’s part, but because Catra was going to die anyway.
It all started with a promotion. Adora had received her captain’s badge, ordinarily given to soldiers who excel on the field (meaning they survived the meat grinder against the princesses more than once) but Adora, being the golden child that she is, naturally got special treatment by the witch who raised them both.
Well, ‘raised’ was perhaps a generous term for Catra’s upbringing, but still.
Catra decided to distract herself from the dismay of being left behind by trying to convince Adora to steal a skiff. Adora, strait laced and moralistic stick in the mud that she is, had firmly declined. She even ordered Catra not do it. Ordered. Who ever thought Adora would let the power get to her head. Maybe she does have something in common with Shadow Weaver after all.
Catra spent the rest of the day sulking until Shadow Weaver called her. Not in the mood to backchat the old hag for once, Catra obeyed. She expected a punishment for some imagined crime like not following the squad parade properly but what she got instead was far more chilling.
Shadow Weaver had been pleased to see her. Pleased. To. See. Her.
Catra had wondered if the world somehow turned upside down.
Of course reality slammed her in the face harder than one of Rogelio’s haymakers when Shadow Weaver delightedly informed her that since Adora would be assigned to a different squad to Catra’s, Catra was of no more use to her. In fact, Adora was currently being sent to a small outpost to get some experience as a Force Captain per Horde protocol.
Catra wasn’t stupid. She knew full well that those who earned Shadow Weaver’s ire had a tendency to be ‘killed in action’ or some other malarkey. To be honest Catra was only surprised that Shadow Weaver hadn’t just gotten rid of her already. Oh, well. Her loss.
In the following days since the promise of her demise and Adora’s deployment Catra had called in every meagre favour that was owed to her. Her extra rations and other items were the fruit of those favours and the final one, the most important one, would lead to her ticket out of this hell.
The only real way out of the Fright Zone was to make off with a vehicle of some sort. Usually a skiff. Catra knew enough about Horde maintenance that the skiffs were only fuelled properly before they were to be used, as to prevent some idiot making off with them whenever they pleased. If skiffs were booked, they usually were tended to by a member of the engineering department for an hour or so before it was used.
And thanks to her favours, she had a timetable of when the skiffs would be in use. All she needed to do was grab one that was checked properly and then escape. Easier said than done, despite the lack of internal security. The Fright Zone wasn’t attacked all that often or at all. Catra could only remember one incident where she saw a bright figure with wings rain blasts of light down upon the walls of the first defence line, before getting blasted by a lucky laser cannon shot. That event had been several years ago and as far as Catra knew, the princesses hadn’t made a peep since then.
So no, security wasn’t a problem. But the issue that did worry Catra was Shadow Weaver and her various dark spies. The wretched old woman had them everywhere to keep everyone on their toes, Catra in particular. She tilted her head, not feeling the telltale raising of her fur when one of those shadowy creatures was slithering around. Safe, for now.
But that wasn’t going to last. Catra was never that lucky. She sighed when she saw her first obstruction of the day, leaning on a wall with an expectant gaze.
“Hey, Lonnie.” Catra greeted. “Fancy seeing you here. Looking for Kyle again? Did he got lost in the ducts?”
“Catra, just cut it out, already.” Lonnie said as she pushed herself off the wall and walked into the centre of the corridor. Catra shrugged, deciding to humour the girl. “Oh, come on, Lonnie. Can’t a girl go out for a stroll? I was planning this thing called a camping trip. You live in the wilderness for a bit. It’s apparently good for you.” She said.
“Catra.” Lonnie’s tone was dangerous, a low growl that she used before she was about to punch something. Catra was very familiar with it.
“Lonnie, there’s this thing that people with brains and wit use. It’s called banter.” Lonnie crossed her arms, “And yet you use it.”
“Oh, a comeback! I don’t get those from you that often.” Catra smirked. Lonnie sighed, apparently discovering that Catra wasn’t just going to slink back to her bunk like a good little kitten. Catra saw the resolve in the dreadlocked cadet’s eyes and arched a brow, “So, are we really doing this? Because I remember our one-v-ones.”
“Why the hell would I just let you leave? When Shadow Weaver finds you and you rat me out, I’ll get punished.” Lonnie shot back.
“I can trade you.” Catra unzipped her bag and rifled through the contents. “Found some fun little mags, I’ll let you have them. Full Frontal Assault Titties, one hundred and fifty sixth edition.” Catra grinned, holding up the pornographic item in question. Lonnie scowled.
“You’re the thief?” she snapped.
“They were yours?” Catra asked, unable to keep the smile from her face. Lonnie growled, her face burning with anger and no small amount of embarrassment. Catra sighed, shoved the magazine back into her bag and tossed the bag aside. “Okay, guess we’re doing this. I still don’t get why, though.” Lonnie rolled her shoulders and started walking forwards.
“You know why.” She said.
“Yeah, I get it. Honestly, I do.” Catra said with genuine sincerity, something that rarely showed itself to anyone other than Adora. “But understanding doesn’t mean I’ll just do what you say. I’m leaving and you won’t stop me.”
“We’ll see.” Lonnie’s punch was fast and straight but was also incredibly predictable. Catra ducked under the blow and slammed a palm into Lonnie’s ribs. “Fuck!” the other cadet wheezed. “Piece of shit, been waiting for this!”
“Wait a little longer, fuckface.” Catra smirked as she weaved around Lonnie’s next attack, a straight kick that would have broken at least three ribs.
“Must be so easy in your head, huh? Leave the Fright Zone and never come back, that’s your plan? What next, frolic with the princesses?” Lonnie sneered as she and Catra exchanged blows. Catra got grabbed and was roughly slammed into the wall. Lonnie made to drive a knee into Catra’s gut but the feline was faster, smashing her arms into Lonnie’s inner elbow and breaking her grip before kicking the dreadlocked girl away.
“Hell no.” she protested. “Far as I’m concerned, the princesses and the Alliance can go fuck themselves, along with the Horde. Both can burn and I’ll watch it all happen.”
“You’re a selfish bitch.” Lonnie snarled, barely avoiding a claw swipe that would have robbed her of an eye. “Always have been.”
“In a place like this, can I afford to be anything but?” Catra rebutted. “You’re no better, nobody is. Unless you’re a blonde idiot, kindness is something to be taken advantage of.”
“Ah, yes. Adora.” Lonnie grinned as she backed away. The fight was put on pause as the dark-skinned girl grinned through bloody teeth. “Does she know?”
“Nope.” Catra drawled. “If I told her, she’d rush off and play hero again.”
“But you tell her everything.” Lonnie sneered. “Or… almost everything. Guess Adora’s little pet isn’t as loyal as I thought. I wonder what expression she’ll make when she realised her precious little bedwarmer up and left without so much as a peep.”
“If you think guilting me is going to make me stop…” Catra growled.
“Oh, I doubt it will. But it was worth a shot. Hey, here’s another one: how long will she cry for when she realises her pet left without so much as a goodbye? Lonnie grinned. Catra’s hands clenched so hard her knuckles popped.
“Fuck you, Lonnie.” She hissed, low and furious.
“Not in a million years.” Lonnie moved to restart the fight, but Catra had run out of time as well as patience. She had speed and agility on her side and was not shy to abuse that advantage. Catra blurred and her claws slashed through Lonnie’s arm, prompting a shriek of pain from her fellow cadet.
“It’s not lethal, so quit whining.” Catra snorted. “But if you don’t hop along to the infirmary, you’ll die of blood loss. I’d hurry if I were you.” Lonnie glared at Catra for several long seconds before shaking her head.
“Even if you escape, you won’t last long out there. You signed your death warrant, Catra.” She promised before turning and hobbling away. Catra sighed when Lonnie was gone. Contrary to what Lonnie had said, Catra didn’t forget Adora at all. She had considered leaving a note but she had a feeling Shadow Weaver would find it and figure out her plan. Catra never wanted to hurt Adora but she couldn’t afford to mess this up.
Catra took a deep breath and turned to the direction of the landing bay. She had to hurry, she didn’t have long.
00000000
The landing bay of the Fright Zone was not one of Catra’s favourite places. It was the constant noise that set her teeth on edge. The drills, the rumbling of engines and the shrieking of skiffs being activated made it a horrible place to nap. Catra would know, she tried.
But in this instance the noise was her ally. It made her escape much easier when nobody could hear her move and everyone was too busy with their projects to see her.
Catra’s target was a specific one, one that she could use very easily because the poor sod who was in charge of its maintenance was none other than—
“Kyle! Hey, there!” Catra greeted with false cheer. Kyle shrieked and dropped the spanner he was holding. Catra grinned, “Just doing the finishing touches, I hope? Did you polish the skiff correctly? Top brass loves it when you do that.”
“I-I know why you’re here.” Kyle stammered. “Lonnie told me you’d try and escape.”
“Wow and she didn’t tell you to bring the big guy? Odd.” Said Catra.
“Uh, she did. I just ignored it.” Kyle fidgeted. Catra frowned, her confusion mounting. Upon seeing it, Kyle elaborated. “Look, it’s no secret Shadow Weaver wants you gone. She’s a monster and I know she hurts you badly.”
“You have no idea.” Catra said.
“So I realised that since Adora got transferred, Shadow Weaver will disappear you.” Kyle continued. “And you don’t deserve that so… here.” He pointed at his face. “Just hit me here and they won’t suspect anything.” Well, this was a development. Catra had expected Kyle to buckle under pressure but to actually help her? This was not something she expected. In fact it was too suspicious. She walked past him and looked the skiff up and down.
“Did you break it?” she asked.
“What? No!” Kyle protested.
“So it’s rigged to explode? Faulty fuel line. Is the steering stick disabled so I’ll crash into a tree?” Catra went on.
“No and no! You need to run, now. The squad will be here any moment!” Kyle warned her. Catra looked at him, long and hard. She sensed no deception from him, but wondered if he was some unwitting pawn in all this. It was far more likely and sounded like the sort of trick Shadow Weaver would pull. She always did like to dangle the thing Catra wanted in front of her before cruelly taking it away.
“Hey, what’s going on here!” a voice, distorted by a helmet’s speakers, shouted nearby. Catra’s gaze snapped around and saw a squad of Horde soldiers standing nearby, their leader holding a rather nasty looking weapon, a sword with serrated edges that idly spun around. A chainsword, not good.
Catra reacted quickly and smashed a fist into Kyle’s unsuspecting face before leaping onto the skiff and slamming the activation button. Hopefully the squad sergeant would be too startled to react.
Of course, Catra should have learned her lesson by now. Nothing goes her way.
“Defector! Open fire!” the sergeant bellowed, unholstering a pistol and aiming it at Catra. She ducked into cover and slammed the ignition button with her heel. Skiffs weren’t the most heavily armoured of vehicles, prioritising speed over defence, but it could handle small arms fire just fine. So long as nobody broke out a cannon or switched a tank on, she should be okay.
Catra growled to herself as she just realised what she just did and how the universe always leapt at any opportunity to make her life as miserable as possible. She grabbed the steering stick and the skiff surged forwards, just in time to avoid the blast of a tank’s plasma cannon. The shockwave still made the skiff shake like hell, but Catra regained control and flew out of the docking bay.
Now came the really hard part. Being discovered was a real spanner in the works because the defences along the fortifications would target her soon. She needed to get into the Forbidden Forest and once she lost her pursuers, resurface and fly into Rebellion territory. Catra glanced back and saw that several skiffs had been launched and were chasing her. Catra winced before she realised this was a good thing, as the massive cannons wouldn’t risk destroying them by firing at her. Catra grinned as her stolen skiff sped into the forest. Catra’s reflexes were the best in her squad, being able to dodge lasers with ease and react to any scenario with great speed if she put the effort in. Shadow Weaver’s looming presence made Catra never truly true at risk of outshining Adora, but here there was no such issue.
Catra closed her eyes, breathed deep and opened them again. Time slowed down around her as the skiff bolted past the trees. She had paid attention in the lessons on piloting Horde vehicles (mainly for the purposes of what she was doing right now) and it was coming in very useful. Minute adjustments to her course led to her darting past trees with the sort of skill that would have earned her commendation of some sort if the Horde leadership was in any way reasonable. Only a few skiffs followed her, gaining on her. One had a mounted cannon on the front while other had several soldiers taking aim. Catra scowled at them, jerking her stick to the left, aiming for the cannon skiff first. She saw the skiff powering up its cannon and tensed her legs. She had to time this.
She saw energy gather in the cannon’s barrel and knew she had a few seconds before it fired. She jerked the stick to the other side where the other skiff was and then leapt. The cannon fired, the shot propelling the already veering skiff straight into the second pursuer, clipping it but not bringing it down as Catra had hoped.
Catra landed on the front of the skiff, her teeth bared. One soldier tried to swing at her but she flipped over him and started ripping her way through the other crewmembers. She fought in ways she had never fought before, acting like the very beast Shadow Weaver believed her to be. The armour of the average Horde grunt was made of strong stuff, but Catra has sliced through thick steel walls with little trouble. Her claws punched through breastplates and sliced apart batons with ease, all the while ducking any shots that were being fired at her. Soon the entire skiff soaked in gore. Catra turned to see the soldier she leapt through backed against the far side, whimpering. She frowned and advanced on him, but he decided to test his luck with the forest rather than her, leaping off the skiff in a panic. Catra ducked down as more shots were fired from the other skiff. She leapt for the cannon and turned it around, aiming at the final chaser. With a grin she pulled the trigger, blowing a massive hole in the skiff and causing it to crash into a tree. Catra sniffed and went to the blood-soaked steering stick.
After ten minutes of travelling through the forest, Catra finally pulled up when she found an opening in the forest, sailing above the woods with a grin.
Until she smelled smoke. She looked back and saw the engine of the skiff trailing smoke.
“Shit.” She cursed. The engine made a noise that she knew wasn’t normal, pops and bangs that led to more smoke emerging from within. Catra grimaced, realising one of the shots from the other skiff must have damaged the engine. She felt the skiff jerk around, losing attitude in bursts. Catra glanced around, seeing the edge of the forest and steering her skiff towards it.
If she could just get past the edge of the woods then she would be scot-free. Catra wrestled with the steering stick, gnashing her teeth and snarling as the ground rapidly approached. When the skiff finally hit the ground, she leapt off just in time to not get blown up, but she was still flung by the blast. Catra gasped in pain as something hit her thigh, biting deep into her flesh before she hit the ground hard. She looked down and saw some shrapnel lodged within and groaned. Without thinking she reached down and ripped the shrapnel away, the jagged edge coming away red with blood. Catra staggered to her feet, looking around blearily as her vision began to blur.
In the distance she spotted… something. She was sure it was a building but couldn’t be sure. She limped forwards, wheezing for breath. As she got closer, she realised that this was a building, but not like any she’s ever seen. It wasn’t like the dark metal walls of the Fright Zone. It was made of stone, painted dark blue and purple and had pots filled with several strange species of plant life. Catra looked up, spotting an ajar window and tensed her legs. She managed to barely reach the window, pulling it open and dragging herself inside. She landed on her injury as she fell through, causing her to cry out. A fresh wave of dizziness struck her and the last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was the door opened.
“Who the hell are… oh, Runes, Spinnerella, get in here fast!”