Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bow stared up at the strange, rocky edifice before him. It was smooth, but clearly inlaid with glowing blue veins, which criss-crossed across its surface in neat, clear lines. At various points, small circles marked each angle, each change in the direction of a line. For all the world, it reminded him of a circuit board, albeit made from stone. And the lines both sat in the stone and also floated above it, in a strange holographic projection. Except there was no clear source for it.

It was strange - a lot of their current hideout was like this. Corridors with odd angles and floors that looked more like paving than a station’s plating. At one angle it looked like metal, at another more like stone. There were ducts that led to hidden service sections filled with glowing crystals arrayed like fuse-boxes.

He’d been crawling through them, trying to work it all out. His maintenance crews were as baffled as he was, but it all seemed to work, even fragmented as this part of the planet was. He reckoned there was some sort of backup or independent generator powering this area.

“Penny for your thoughts, Chief?” a cooing voice purred from nearby. Bow rolled his eyes and glanced behind him.

“Heyah DT. Just kinda mesmerised, y’know?”

The Tailor and apparent secret spy person smirked and strode forward to join bow, their pointed green ear flicking as they moved, “Careful, wifey dear may feel jealous. And while I’ve seen many things across this galaxy, I am unsure if I wish to see the lady who manages my tab getting irked by a wall. I feel it would wreck her self esteem.”

DT plopped their elbow into the palm of their hand, then cocked their head at Bow, a bemused expression on their face as they gestured vaguely at the wall. The engineer chuckled, “It’s so weird. I can’t work out what’s powering it., or if it’s something embedded in the wall, or if it’s drawing it in from the radiation of the planet. I mean, we’re shielded, but it’s drawing something from somewhere. It’s keeping the lights on.”

“And tall, blonde and broody hasn’t helped?” DT’s expression shifted ever so slightly. Bow snorted.

“Not so broody now. She’s damn near belle of the ball! She was drinking yesterday. With TARA.”

“Hmmm. I think she’s turned a corner perhaps. I’ll grant you that. But still…”

“She’s helped get some of these things running. Honestly, she’s tried but she doesn’t quite understand the mechanics of it,” Bow blew out a breath, then turned, “Coming? I need to swing by Perfuma’s floor.”

“Oh goody, are we getting fresh food soon? I am too pretty to subsist on those ration bars.”

“Yeah the grey ones are the worst.”

The pair moved through the blue-tinted corridors to an open platform that descended down. One part of the shaft was open to space with a crack in the facility’s wall. But a shimmering glow kept the vacuum at bay. It’d taken a while for the crew to realise they didn’t need enviro-suits on permanently. That said, Bow still had a tank on his hip and a mask ready.

Just in case.

The view of the green-black mist that surrounded the ruin of the planetoid vanished behind rock as the elevator found the next floor down. The pair meandered again until they reached a room that seemed more cave than room. The walls had been crushed in partially, giving the place a craggier feel where the smooth walls transitioned to darker rubble, or sheared surfaces.

The place was a riot of colour however and Bow let out a low whistle. The sound caused a woman with braided blonde hair to turn and regard them both with a beaming smile, “Bow! DT! Oh gosh, it’s lovely to see you both. I was about to update Angella, but I’m so pleased I can share some uplifting news. Look! That last batch of Sheaf seeds and Parapplena fruits have taken… and their growth is shocking!”

“Your fancy fingers at work, darling?” DT drawled with a smirk. Perfuma scoffed and rolled her eyes with a smirk of her own.

“Hardly. The hydroponics worked well enough but I was expecting weeks to get results, even with accelerant use. But Adora helped wire in some extra lights and showed me something she found which I believe was a remnant hydroponics unit and, well…” she gestured at the plants, “She advised that we may need to rotate plants out once harvested as it can put too much pressure on them and grant diminishing returns. But for getting things going, it's amazing.”

Bow blinked in surprise, “Wow. I’m... wow.” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, “Well, DT, looks like you’re getting some greens to go with the grey.”

“Joy,” sighed DT with a small smile. Perfuma shook her head.

“I’m surprised, no double entendre?”

“Grow me one and I’ll show you how to use it, darling. You both seem rather blasé about all of this though.”

Bow caught the concerned tilt of DT’s head and the tense way they held themselves. He shrugged, “Not much of a choice. We could try for a run from the system, but with the patrols, we have to make do. Angella is looking at options. Honestly, it’s amazing but I have to admit I’m not entirely comfortable relying on a system I can barely wrap my mind around, or can’t work out how to properly fix.”

Perfuma shrugged, “I don’t want to burden myself with worries and fears I cannot remedy. I will adapt with what I can, fix what I can and help others with what I have to hand. To waste my energy on delving too deep feels… wrong. And I trust Adora to tell me if something is a genuine risk.”

DT shook their head, “Fine fine, both grand points. And I suppose Adora has earned the benefit of the doubt.”

“Still scared of her?” Bow hid a small smile as he turned to look at a particularly interesting plant. DT rolled their eyes.

“With reason . And I know I cautioned against alienating her and championed her involvement… I am worried about the collateral now.”

Bow shook his head as he walked along a row of plants, “I get it. But she’s probably the main thing keeping us safe. You ok DT?”

The tailor huffed and flung their hands up, “Just… I’m cut off here. No traders, no excitement, just waiting. And I like a chillax as much as the next doll, y’know? But my goodness, where’s the vim, the romance, the thrilllls?”

“Being in hiding from a psychotic navy doesn’t fill you with excitement?” Perfuma asked, genuinely curious. She folded her hands in front of her uniform, a green apron over a sort of dress-uniform, also green. DT hummed and glanced about for somewhere to possibly flounce dramatically. Finding nothing they crossed their arms.

“No. I just find myself lacking motivation .”

“Ah,” Bow said with a smile, “You’re bored. And you’re stirring things up to find entertainment?”

“Oh! You wound me Bow! Such accuracy…” DT smirked slyly, “Don’t tease me. But fine, yes, I’m bored.”

Perfuma clapped her hands and beamed, “A party! We need something to stir up spirits!”

Bow matched her and grinned, his own hands pumping the air for a moment, “Oh heck yes!”

“You can swear, darling, you know that?” DT sighed again, then looked thoughtful, “Actually… Why didn’t I think of this? Scratch that, all my idea, and you can’t prove otherwise. Ta ta, someone has to go be fantastic and organise a soiree!”

Perfuma and Bow watched the tailor go and shook their heads, before Bow looked at the new, stone-link hydroponics units, “So… can I have a look?”

—------------------------------

Adora lay atop Swiftwind’s hull and gazed at the ceiling of the hangar. It was a rocky shelf rather than a roof, but you could still see the spiderweb of blue lines that had clearly marked this as a room of some sort at one stage. She wondered about that idly - had it been a hangar? Or some store room? Maybe a test chamber or a community hall? The ruins lacked so much in the way of actual markers or guidance. Occasionally in her delving she’d found places that could have been bunk rooms or apartments; places that seemed more for socialising or communal meeting areas. One had had the feel of a park, but she’d found it deep in a chunk of the planetoid, implying it had originally been buried under tonnes of earth, a sort of terrarium or garden space in a bunker. It made her wonder why they’d done that - had they essentially lived below ground so long they needed spaces like that? Or was it just because they wanted a beautiful space to break up the monotony of the halls.

The core buried in Swiftwind gave her no real answers. She felt things, that was for sure, but knowledge was a harder thing to put her finger on. Some of it was clearly from her implants, but they hadn’t exactly cared about context. She was a vehicle for the system’s deployment, or at least that had been the plan.

But now she was… free?

It was strange. So strange. She’d been denied her suit and felt that clawing dread of doom; Of the end . And then these people had rallied around her. Had helped her. Trusted her.

Ok that last one was a stretch, but she saw it in their eyes now.

But that wasn’t the most confusing part. No. Not at all.

Catra.

Adora closed her eyes and sighed. It didn’t hurt as much, not really. There wasn’t a sense of muted anger, like she’d felt when she’d first seen the woman again. That Captain, who’d glowered as if nothing was wrong. As if Adora was in the wrong.

And then the victorious Captain, chasing down her… friends. Hounding them, cornering them.

And then the final girl. A woman with haunted eyes and a determined air.

Adora knew that look all too well - it’d been one she’d seen in the mirror since escaping her life as a Praetorian. Off the leash? Not quite. Feeling like she’d made a choice but was then hemmed in by that same choice?

Oh yes.

The blonde chewed her lip and let her vision unfocus. She was going to do something about it. She had to. She needed to stop  Catra and whatever the Horde had planned. She knew it’d be bad considering how long they’d had Swiftwind.

But she knew she also had another objective. One she’d had all along, just with no easy target.

“Hey! You finished daydreaming?” Adora startled and shook her head, before she rolled over to glance over the side of Swiftwind’s hull. All around the hangar ships were undergoing maintenance. Sparks flew as crews bolted on new armour; ammo crates clattered as weaponry was refilled and charged; and the hiss of cooling engines as ships came and went filled the air with a low hum. They were safe here, for now - as long as the patrols stayed close and didn’t draw attention.

Adora focused on the smiling figure who stood next to her ship. Hands planted on the hips of her purple jump-suit, Glimmer smirked up at Adora. The blonde huffed, then swung her legs of the side of the ship, “Hey Glim.”

“You will never guess what we’re going to do next. Well, two things. First, mom wants to talk to you. And second… we’re having a PARTY!”

“Uh…” Adora blinked owlishly, “What?”

“I knew you’d be excited!” Glimmer snorted, “Come on. It’s DT, got some hare-brained idea to get morale up. Not a bad one but they’re talking about some good news story stuff.”

Adora shook her head, then moved to clamber down the ladder built into Swiftwind’s hull, landing gently on the deck, “I mean, it makes sense. This place has been tense the past few days.”

“Duh. You landed a full on mecha in the landing bay while system wide communications went ballistic . I thought you were supposed to be all sneaky, Adora? Seems you went with the punch stuff solution.”

“The Horde… was not co-operating with my methods,” Adora harrumphed. Glimmer blinked and squinted at her.

“I am struggling to get used to the fact you can apparently make jokes. It’s… weird. But also kinda cool.”

“Oh I’m super funny. One time, in the academy, Catra and I…” she trailed off. Glimmer glanced at her and a small smile tugged at her lips, while it also warred with a hint of frustration.

“Go on. I don’t mind.”

Adora rubbed the back of her neck, “We, uh… we played a prank on some other cadets. We had this one absolute asshole in the dorm and we hid a ration bar in his mattress. The really smelly kind. He’d been picking on Catra and, uh, well… kept saying she smelled like a wet dog. So we did that and, every inspection, he’d get chewed out, until eventually the Force-Sergeant tore his mattress apart and all these mouldy ration bars fell out.”

Glimmer blinked, “Uh huh.”

“The Force-Sergeant just… stared. Like he couldn’t work out what the hell was happening and this guy was just stood there gaping. And then I said, “So that’s where my bars went!” and Catra just burst out laughing…”

Adora trailed off and Glimmer smiled awkwardly, “Ha… ha ha?”

The blonde let out a sigh, “You had to be there. Military humour doesn’t translate well.”

“Clearly,” Glimmer deadpanned.

Their pair headed into the base proper, winding their way to the makeshift command room. Angella, Juliet and a few others stood around the room, monitoring their own information. Angella was mostly engrossed in a stack of data tablets. She glanced up from her flimsy, temporary desk and nodded at the pair, “Adora. Thank you again for all this. I have to say again, I…”

Adora waved a hand, “Ma’am, no need. So, what’s next?”

The Commander blew out her checks, then folded her hands demurely, “In short, supplies. We have what we need, to a point. But we’re starving for intel beyond those communication taps we have, and our hydroponics won’t be able to supply everyone . Without trade ships and resupply we’re rather limited. So… I’d like to see if we can’t grab some food. Especially since DT has insisted on a morale boosting event. I think it’s needed and having supplies will help.”

Adora grimaced, “And you think my vessel is best for this?”

Angella shook her head, “No. I think your vessel is best equipped to go harass Horde targets, so Mermista can go and liberate some supplies. It won’t work for long before they realise you’re a distraction, but we may be able to pull off a few hits.”

Adora chuckled, “And when they do get wise to it, we can then actually hit the Horde somewhere hard.”

The Commander’s own smile widened, “Precisely.”

“Alright, let me check the routes… we’ll want to avoid the ice planet for a while, buuut… I have some ideas.”

—--

Catra was, to not to put too fine a point on it, brooding .

She lounged in her ready-room, aboard the Vengeance , while Scorpia went through the duty checks. She felt irked , embarrassed and a little bit paranoid. Her XO turned and gave her a worried look, “All ok Wildcat?” she whispered.

The feline harrumphed, “Not really, Scorp. Getting… de ja vu. This all started with Adora handing us our asses… and now here we are again.”

“But! We have a Destroyer now?” Scorpia waved her claws, “Positive thinking!”

Catra rolled her eyes and clasped her hands behind her, beneath her cloak, “Small rewards. And now the Governor is looking for someone to blame.”

“But he thinks we’ve been infiltrated by a rival, right?”

“For now. And we need to keep it that way,” She sat up straighter and leaned on the desk, claws drumming against the metal, “And any updates on what Entrapta was working on?”

“She’s giving us summaries, but sounds like the Governor has locked down a lot of avenues. We’re getting the updates, but nothing technical… which I think I’m kind of grateful for?”

“Fair. But all I saw were mecha? Has she... copied Adora’s machine fully, like we planned?”

“Not sure.”

Catra grimaced, “We need that project. It’s a ticket to the core and to security, Scorpia. No more counter piracy, no more patrols. A seat at the table.”

Scorpia studied Catra and nodded slowly, “Just like you wanted, right Wildcat?”

Catra twitched and her tail lashed, “Exactly.”

Since Adora’s dramatic rescue of her ship, the fleet in system had been on edge. Increased patrols, a higher scrutiny of press-ganged transports and traders, longer sweeps. Governor Hordak had ensconced himself in the research base, after his teams had hardened it up. The place was a veritable fortress now - the capital ship in orbit with its attendant fleet, battery-satellites with heavy weapons; planetary mass drivers aimed up at the sky.

Catra had requested the opportunity to ‘reinforce the borders’ and Hordak had eagerly dismissed her. Now she was wondering if that was a mistake.

Something else was also bothering her - Weaver was being uncharacteristically silent. Usually she’d chime in with some snide comment, but a lot was getting by. Catra glanced at the ceiling.

“Weaver, status update? Any new alerts?”

“ Nothing worthy of your esteemed attention,” the voice had the usual sneering condescension. Catra sighed.

“So no sightings of the ship that had you so spooked, or the woman who did the same?”

The crackled of static over the speakers made it sound like Weaver was grinding non-existent teeth before she responded, “ Hardly. And curious why you are not more scared. But I believe we understand the rationale. Best take care, Commander,  You cannot keep me in this box forever.”

“Eh, long enough is all I need, Weaver. Scorpia, the shackle protocols are still running right?”

“All hooked up and at full functionality, ma’am.”

“Fantastic,” Catra grinned and arched an eyebrow up at the speaker, “Thank you Weaver.”

Scorpia winced, then glanced at her tablet, “We have a supply convoy arriving in the system in seventeen hours. Should we do a surprise inspection?”

Catra shrugged and leaned back in her chair, mind a mess of uncertain ideas. She waved a hand and let out a sigh, “Make it so.”

Scorpia stood, saluted, and left the ready room. Catra massaged her temples and keyed the power to her terminal. She drummed her claws again, then cycled through to the files she’d managed to save and secure. Old, confidential mission logs that Entrapta had torn from Weaver’s shared memory.

Mostly redacted, they painted a bloody trail by her former friend. A story that didn’t match the girl she’d known. Or the girl she now knew floated out there in the black.

A nightmare existence that seemed to have run its course.

“Why didn’t you run, Adora? Why?” She swallowed and tried out the lie, to see if she believed it this time, “And why didn’t you stay ?”

Those last words felt bitter as she spat them out. But she could tell her dream was looming. If this project bore fruit, well, it was a meal ticket, riding on Hordak’s tail-coats. She’d be a part of something greater, part of something powerful. She’d be feared. And maybe Adora would listen then?

Catra sat back in her chair as she keyed the power to her terminal off, hiding the distressing truth of things. She could ask Weaver about it, but the AI would lie or dissemble. Why bother when she had it in black and white.

With a breath, Catra smoothed her hair down, then slicked it back. The Governor preferred a more groomed look and, while she disliked it, it was necessary to make minor political capital. A scruffy look wouldn’t endear the man.

Who knew, maybe she’d get lucky today. Maybe Adora would come and ask to join, ask to be part of things again?

Catra let out a sad laugh.

No, she needed to look to the future. To what would happen. To her own satisfaction, not the dreams of a child, clinging to old memories.

She scooped up her cap and secured it atop her head, then stepped from the ready-room to face another day.

Chapter Text

“What the hell is that thing?”

The bridge of the Horde patrol frigate was shrouded in red as alarms blared. The Captain bubbled in frustration, the dome of his water-filled environment suit gurgling as he shouted his demands across the bridge.

They were an hour out from the “liberated” fuel depot, heading for the new asteroid space station that Commander Catra had also seized. His eagerness to get in the good graces of the Governor by perhaps showing up this upstart new Commander was not going to plan. Their patrol route was through an empty pocket of space.

A couple of small vessels had popped up on their radar and he’d assumed it would be a simple shake-down.

The shaking of his vessel put the lie to that assumption.

“Captain Gorgle, The enemy vessel is secured to our hull. We can’t.. .get a bead.” The gunnery officer gripped at her console as the ship shook. On the command holograms the bridge crew could make out the vessel itself - some sort of cargo-hauler-mech. Gorgol vaguely remembered similar ones used in backwater logistical bases - some sort of transforming shuttle mech thing.

And one of them had ripped a turret off of his ship and was now beating at the hull.

“Where are our escorts?” he bubbled, his voice modulator barking out his translated commands in robotic, synthetic waves. An ensign at the comms terminal turned and shook his head.

“The corvettes are engaging the gunships Black One is reporting damage to their aft thrusters and that their top dorsal turret is offline. Black Two is in pursuit but every time it tries to move to engage the mecha it receives effective fire.”

“Tell the lieutenants their priority is the safety of our vessel. If they’re obedient we can swat the gunships for them. But if that damn mech destroys another turret…”

“Should we signal distress, sir?” the ensign asked.

“Are you insane, boy? That Catra witch would have us in the brig, the Governor would strip us of our ranks. Probably execute you all. No, we fight these idiots off. They just got luc-”

His words faded as the lights flickered. On the screen, the mech had jammed the turret into the hull and it was now steadily moving towards another turret that was trying to turn to aim at the walking ship.

A streak of automatic gunfire lanced across the hull of the frigate as one of the corvettes made a pass. The Captain growled, “Tell them to watch their fire! No use if they breach us too!”

The Ensign looked baffled, unsure how the corvettes could be expected to dislodge their attacker without close fire. The gunnery officer shook her head at him almost imperceptibly and he turned back to his console to relay the next set of contradictory orders.

Outside, Adora was having a blast . They’d stumbled upon a patrol, as planned and found it to be a potential challenge - two corvettes and a patrol frigate. This class had drones and the first thing she’d done was wreck the drone launch bay doors. No doubt the engineers were working on a way to override and release the annoying combatants. But the nature of her ship had allowed her to close the distance, feigning weakness as the Horde navy flexed their assumed authority.

When her ship had spun, transformed and landed on the frigate’s hull, after blasting between the two corvettes, the Horde had clearly been stunned. A blast from her primary weaponry into the drone-bay doors had near-welded them closed. The arrival of Huntara and her gunships had ensured the corvettes were now being occupied.

And now she was happily whaling on the frigate. It gave her a chance to really see what the weaknesses of these ships were from the outside. She’d taken one down via sabotage, managed to damage more in the battle for the station, but in open combat with her restored Swiftwind she needed to be able to identify rapid strikes and weaknesses to take these ships out of the fray.

She’d disabled the drone bay and a turret, so now was walking across the ship to try to nail another emplacement. She paused, yanking back on the controls as tracer fire pinged across the hull.

“Careful blondie, you’ve got a fan club .”

“Thanks. Surprised they’re still flying.”

“Could say the same about that tub. Thought you were some sorta superweapon with that thing.”

Adora snorted into her comms as she watched Huntara’s gunship pursue the bulky corvette. The Horde corvettes looked like arrow-heads, with blister canopies on their “wings”, and a large compartment down the spine. They were bulky and relatively slow, but had plenty of nasty weapons, mostly for small to medium target engagements. They were intended as picket ships, meant to be a pain for fighters and to pose a threat to smaller warships too. You often saw them as the leads of fighter wings, mini command ships as border fleets, or counter piracy.

Horde doctrine went with a two or three to one ratio of “escort” to “primary” vessel in warfighting. Solo ships, like Catra’s had been, were an oddity, or usually part of a scouting in-depth campaign.

Local fleet commanders mixed things up, of course, but baseline doctrine meant that you’d see three escort frigates to one artillery one, normally, and two or three corvettes to a frigate,  then fighters and so forth. The carrier group the Governor had brought had clearly an irregular force composition as these were the first corvettes Adora had seen so far. Considering this was the edges of the Empire and that most of these ships here seemed to be dog eared older stock, or repurposed logistical fleets, she wasn’t that surprised. Clearly more ships were flooding in as the potentially lucrative opportunity of the destroyed planetoid had been noticed by the Governor.

Thoughts of Catra distracted Adora briefly and she cursed as she realised the frigate’s turret had rotated. She managed to move her ship, shockingly agile for something of its design, far more so than the design specs should have allowed for.

The blast from the heavy plasma turret slid past her through the void and Adora winced as the sensors in Swiftwind’s cockpit flashed a dangerous red, the emergency shielding flaring at the proximity to the glowing green heat.

With an adjustment of the pedals at her feet and a twist on the yoke, Adora powered her ship forwards, bringing a mechanised fist around. A blue glow surrounded the limb as the ship’s core fed its strange power into the blow.

With a yell, Adora ploughed Swiftwind’s fist into the armour of the turret, at the point where the barrel entered the dome. Blue energy fleshed and the armour of the Horde turret gave way, the mecha’s arm embedded inside. Adora growled and pulled the trigger on her flight yoke, the weapons on Switwind’s arm unfurling and firing inside the turret, before she yanked back.

Rounds of heavy solid-state ammunition ricocheted within the turret, shredding the electronics and mechanics with. Adora moved and pushed off the hull, blasting away as the turret fizzed, then detonated. The frigate lurched and spun. Adora watched its thrusters fire to try to correct, while the vessel also tried to spin to bring another weapon system to bear.

It felt like she was toying with them, but Adora needed to learn. And, frankly, she felt she needed some fun. Likely as not, she’d leave the vessel crippled - force the Horde to do a recovery. A destroyed vessel would result in a salvage job, and the Horde tended to treat that as lower priority; they were ruthless, but not entirely stupid. A vessel that was crippled and had crew, in this part of space, would mean they’d devote more time to it. If the ship was destroyed, there was no real point save to maybe gather scrap and salvage and reinforce elsewhere. A crippled ship was a ship that could, possibly , be captured by an enemy and repurposed.

With a gleeful grin, Adora redirected her focus to the engines. She had some learning to do.

—------------------

“Seems a bit easy, oh light of my life?”

Mermista, former captain of the Seagate, leaned back in her command chair. She was aboard the repurposed cargo hauler that now served as her new flagship of what remained of her crew and fleet. She turned an arch look that managed to convey mild irritation to her subordinate. The fact that her left hand had a soft grip of his sleeve, as if to anchor him close to her, was entirely incidental and not at all relevant.

“Duh. It’s the Horde. They are easy.”

Sea Hawk smiled down at her, his expression full of sickening adoration. She scoffed and looked away, though a blush tinged her dark skin. Her paramour chuckled and spoke quietly, a strange departure from his usual buoyant self, “True. except when they aren’t. It’s twelve auto-cargo ships and two corvettes, plus fighters? Seems a bit light?”

Mermista sighed and pulled him closer, “So, you think we run?”

Sea Hawk’s smile broadened, “Oh no. I say we make it harder.”

She blinked at him and rolled her eyes, “Of course. And how are we going to do that?”

“We steal the whole convoy .”

This time her blinking felt longer as her brain tried to process that. Their intent had been to disrupt the transports, knock one out, grabe a few dropped containers, then to book it out of there. Supplies enough to tide them over, allow them to strike some more shipments, quick and fast. But she knew that that would eventually lead to the horde consolidating their shipments and bolstering security - long term it was a bad idea.

This felt… worse?

“This feels worse,” she deadpanned, “Like, the Horde is going to NOTICE. And be able to track twelve cargo ships just flying to the nebula.”

“AU CONTRAIRE!” Sea Hawk’s voice was booming this time and several of the motley crew turned at their haphazard stations to stare curiously at their XO, “We use… deception and confusion .”

“Yeah, well it’s working on me. I hope your plan doesn’t involve setting a ship to self-destruct and flying it at the fleet…?”

Sea Hawk mused and wagged a finger, “A fair accusation and… one I had considered, but!” he held a hand up, the sleeves of his rolled up blue jerkin flapping as he placated a scowling Mermista, “I thought we needed cargo intact. So, plan B, which was plan A until I did entertain the idea of a glorious set of fireworks, is we get in there and... reroute them.”

Mermista blinked, then frowned, “Uh, that sounds… too easy?”

“HARDLY! But DT has decided we must celebrate, and our grand stories need delicacies and joys in equal measure! So, we’ll steal all their stuff. Thumb our noses at the cowardly thugs!”

“I’m not hearing a how , here… babe.” Mermista deployed the pet name as effectively as a laser guided torpedo. Sea Hawk blinked and beamed, his heroic pose shifting to one of glee. He shook his head and coughed.

“Well… captain. It’s simple. Adora gave me the idea, really. We need to get close and identify the primary vessel - it’ll have the destination and the others, while having similar, will actually just be following that ship. Their destinations are in there in case the lead ship is destroyed or disabled. Then they’ll continue on. The reason they don’t all do it is because then you get an absolute ship-crash as they all try to arrive at the same time on similar routes. Saw that once in Klendagon, nasty, fifty drone ships all trying to fit in one docking bay, took weeks for them to unseal it all… packed in like…”

“Focus!”

“Ah, yes, sorry dear. Anyway, using the lead ship, we can then send dummy routes to the others and voila, instant dispersal.”

“Routes?”

“Of course! Don’t want them all going to the same spot. We can direct the rest of the fleet to head to their new destinations, strip them out, then scuttle them.”

Mermista blinked again , “That is a scarily well thought out plan. But who can manage that?”

“I have been known to dabble in navigation systems in my time as a Captain,” Sea Hawk brushed his nails against his tunic. Mermista’s face went slack.

“No,” Sea Hawk opened his mouth.

A buzz from the comm on her chair made Mermista pause. She keyed it and spoke, “Bridge, go ahead.”

Bow’s smooth, confident voice floated through the tinny speakers, “Captain, engine’s running well, though seeing some spikes here and there, think it’s sensors drawing heavily, may want to dial down the gain, means you’ll be broadcasting as much as seeing.”

Mermista and Sea Hawk exchanged a glance then looked back at the comm. Mermista nodded to herself slowly before speaking, “Bow, can you come up to the bridge?”

The man had joined them due to the rather temperamental nature of the vessels. He was a last minute addition, after Angella had laid out the plan - a safe assumption that technical knowledge would likely be required somewhere in the plan. And lo and behold here they were. Sea Hawk heaved a sigh and turned as the chief engineer for the whole of their little resistance ducked through the hatch onto the bridge.

“Hey, so… what’s the plan… woah that’s a lot of ships.”

Mermista regarded her temporary crewman. He was a wonder, having gotten most of the ships functional or repaired, with his crew. And he hadn’t needed much persuading to join this little jaunt. She smiled at him, “So, we need a favour. How’s your space walking?”

—-----------

“Ma’am we have a priority message from the frigate Lionfish . They have been engaged by resistance forces.”

Catra leaned forward in her command chair and frowned. They were a few hours out from the solar system’s edge, due to meet with the incoming freighters. So far they had seen nothing untoward.

“A frigate? Solo?” she asked. The ensign nodded and Catra’s frown deepened. She looked at Scorpia who shrugged.

“I don’t know.  Pirates?”

“Captain Gorgle is claiming it’s a surprise attack.”

The name was unfamiliar - one of the new Captains brought in by the Governor. Not one of his lackey’s but someone who was a threat. Catra drummed her claws on the arm of the command chair, “Any other vessels nearby?”

“None, ma’am. Governor has moved the bulk of the fleet into orbit of the ice planet. The Lionfish is between the refueling point and the main station. But on an oblique patrol route, so he’s close to us apparently…”

Catra sighed, feeling some sympathy for the beleaguered captain, but not much. The Horde didn’t look kindly on failure, except with good reason. She gestured vaguely, “Redirect one of our escort frigates to answer, along with a corvette.”

“Sorry ma’am, hold on.. .getting a visual…” the ensign winced as they interrupted.

The holo-display on the Destroyer’s bridge lit up and Catra immediately stiffened.

It was a view from a gun cam on a corvette, which was trying to deal with a nippy formerly-Horde gunship. The same one stolen from this Destroyer. But that wasn’t what drew her gaze. No, it was the white-gold cargo hauler that seemed to be trying to punch the frigate to death.

Catra’s chest tightened. She wanted to snort a laugh, she wanted to scream. She wanted to bark orders and oddly, she wanted to cheer Adora’s simple, idiot, bravado fuelled approach. But her duty crawled at the back of her head - she needed to recapture that ship. Maybe… maybe arriving with a Destroyer would chase Adora off, really show her how outmatched she was?

“Set a course, adjust heading to intercept. Order the corvettes escorting the Lionfish to focus on that vessel, keep it distracted. Helm, initiate emergency jump, in system.”

“Belay that order. Authorisation Hordak-One.” Weaver’s cold voice chimed in. Catra bristled.

“Weaver…”

“ I am sorry Captain, I must countermand you, by order of the Governor - recent standing orders state any engagement with the known Praetorian and the weapon system they have purloined is to be handled by the Governor’s own taskforce. My hands are tied.”

The AI’s voice carried a honeyed sneer with it. Catra’s fist clenched on the armrest and she could feel the metal and cloth tear under her claws.

“We should still move to support.”

“ I am afraid that should you do that, I will have to intervene as it would put YOUR life at risk. And as you know, you have said I am unable to harm you… and by extension, I shouldn’t let you come to harm either, correct?”

That drew Catra up short, “What…?”

“ Anyway, I feel there are other matters that require your attention .”

“Ma’am, convoy escorts are reporting pirate attacks on their vessels! The supply convoy is under attack.”

Catra’s tail lashed and she swore, “Adora’s providing a distraction. Of course.”

Scorpia clacked her claws nervously, “What?”

The Commander gestured, “She’s taking her time beating up a frigate with her bare hands… and a convoy gets hit right at the edge of the system? Wonder what the priority could be…?” Catra’s voice was all snark. She growled in frustration and sat back. She knew that if she interfered there’d be hell to pay. She cou;dn’t help Adora, not that she would, of course. But she wasn’t sure she’d be able to shoot her down. Or capture her.

Not knowing what she knew now.

Given time, maybe she could persuade her, but she needed time and a place to actually talk . No chance of that happening.

With disgusted hiss, Catra waved at the helm, “Continue on course to the convoy, best speed. At the earliest, emergency jump.”

“For a clear jump to the edge of the system, it’ll be forty three minutes to ensure a clear direct route.”

“Make it so,” grumbled Catra as she slumped back into her chair. Her tail swayed and she worried.

For herself.

And for Adora.

—--------------------------------

Across the system, several thousand metres away from the Lionfish , a cylindrical pod slammed out of jumpspace. It drifted in the dark before flashing lights blinked in a rin at one end. A moment later, gas escape as the cylinder split down the sides, coming apart. A shape uncoiled from within, bulky and jerky in its motion. Segmented tendrils clack from behind it, as its bidepal form stiffly unfolded into an upright position. A pair of engines glowed to life on the thing’s back as the Horde mech suit vibrated to life. Green and red lines flashed dimly across several points as the machine pivoted in the void.

Long arms, ending with sharp manipulators extended out from a boxy cockpit / torse composite. Four additional manipulators emerged from the machine’s back, above the stuppy engine ports, while the digitigrade legs moved to angle another set of engines. It reached into the drifting cylinder and pulled out a long weapon from within, more of a tank gun than a rifle at the scale it was.

Within, the pilot flexed his hands on the controls. Sweat beaded as the unfamiliar energy pulsed within the machine and he wiped a hand across his forehead, studying the red controls.

“Lieutentant Flogg, on site. Target acquired.”

Hordak’s cold voice slid through the comms, “Good. Disable if possible. Eliminate if necessary. Ensure all recorders are active. Secondary units are on standby. Ensure they are not required, Lieutenant.”

Flogg swallowed, “Aye, sir.”

A screen popped up, showing the gun-cam for his external weapon. Across the void, he sighted at the strange, bulky mecha that was brutalising the Horde Frigate.

“I have you now…”