Chapter Text
“To be hurt, to feel lost, To be left out in the dark,
To be kicked when you're down, To feel like you've been pushed around,
To be on the edge of breakin' down, And no one's there to save you,
No, you don't know what it's like,
Welcome to my life”
27 January, 1157 (Aetherean Calendar)
5km East of Steadhold, Duchy of Reina
Catra
Most people possessed some kind of natural talent, some could sing songs or dance with particular grace, others could make art so beautiful it brought people to tears, there were captivating storytellers, and there was even the rare person with an affinity for the magical arts. For Force Commander Catra, second-in-command of the Horde, and the leader of its armies, the talent that came most naturally to her was fighting, in almost any form. From one on one combat, to small team engagements, and leading armies into battle. She could identify her foe's weak points, maneuver the battle's flow to her advantage, and strike where it would cause the most damage. The knowledge that she went head to head against an opponent and emerged victorious through her own effort was intoxicating.
Most people, however, did not share in her talent. The broad backed Scorpioni sitting across the table from her seemed to be one of those people. Surely he had some knowledge on how to conduct military operations. No one, no matter how well connected, became a general in the Horde without the ability to get things done. He was the General charged with leading the campaign to recapture all of the land west of the Tallow river that the Rebellion had taken from them almost fifteen years ago. To his credit there was little on this side of the river that he didn't control, but in Catra's mind there was no way he was anything other than a political appointee.
When she arrived in his camp, he had introduced himself as 'Lord Achereon Scorpestus IV', then blustered for half an hour about his 'Noble lineage' and the great victories his family had accomplished for the Horde. All without actually addressing the campaign he was currently waging. So there she sat, thirty minutes into a meeting that was supposed to take ten, and all she had to show for it was a headache and a vein trying to pop out of her temple the longer she was in his presence.
“-And that was, of course, when our supreme benefactor, Lord Hordak, saw the true value of our family, and placed us in command of his glorious campaign to conquer Etheria. Now, as you know, those of us gifted with the natural talents of the-” Catra forced herself to take a deep breath, and fought her natural urge to roll her eyes right out the front flap of the man's oversized tent.
Really, Catra knew most of this information already. Her aide-de-camp, and self-proclaimed 'best friend', Scorpia, was a talker through and through, and no matter how much Catra insisted she didn't care, Scorpia loved her family and would speak for hours about them if she could. Luckily for Catra, the Scorpioni Princess was a decent story teller, and could make even her lineage sound interesting through sheer personality.
'Although, that might just be because she usually keeps it to the actually interesting bits.' Catra smirked to herself. As annoying as her insistence on the depth of their friendship was, Scorpia did at least have an understanding of what would entertain Catra.
Catra found herself wishing that Scorpia was with her now, if nothing else she would make a nice sacrifice to this old man's posturing. As a bonus, she was technically higher than him in the Scorpioni Royal Lineage as the only direct descendant of their last king. Unfortunately for Catra, her aide was called away on Princess business. Arsyl, a client state of the Queendom of Dryl who had refused to join the Horde when Dryl did, had recently been conquered. Scorpia had to be present for the official surrender, as one of the two Princesses aligned with-
Her train of thought ground to a halt when a knot of ice formed in Catra's chest. 'As the only Princess aligned with the Horde', she corrected herself. Four months had passed since Catra ordered their other Princess to be sent to Beast Island. By now, she was probably-
Catra stopped herself again. The technophile Princess went against Catra, she went against Hordak, and the Princess had gotten what she deserved. 'Entrapta was a traitor', she told herself, and Catra didn't need to waste any more time thinking about it. She was in command now and there was no room for doubt, no room for lingering. She made her choices, now she had to see them through.
The Magicat was drawn out of her introspection when Lord Achereon gestured towards her with a pincer, “-But I've gone on long enough, and you've had quite the journey to get here. Tell me, what news do you carry from the capital? Or perhaps our Lord Hordak simply wishes for his representative to watch the successful end to my hard fought campaign.”
Catra scolded herself, she had completely zoned out while he was droning on. That was dangerous. Just because she had power now, it didn't mean that she could relax. The opposite was true, really. Before, she had been one Force Captain among many, but once she had taken over as Force Commander all eyes were on her. And given how she had ascended to her current office by taking out her predecessor...
She lounged back in her chair, attempting to appear nonchalant, but she had no idea what he had been talking about. “Lord Hordak is very interested in your campaign, General. Tell me, how's the situation at the front?” The words dripped with false interest. This was what she hated most about her new job, the need for occasional political niceties. Most subordinates, she could just order around without worrying about what they thought of her, but the General had influence outside of the military that could make her life hard if he decided to use it.
The Scorpioni chuckled and gave Catra a broad smile, “The campaign is going excellently, as to be expected. The rebels have been driven out of their forts, their last river crossings are all under artillery bombardment, and our scout patrols have already established observation posts on the west bank. By this time tomorrow we will have put an end to their last, insignificant resistance, and I expect to have met all of the objectives set out for me by Lord Hordak.”
“Well then, I'm sure Lord Hordak will be pleased to hear that, General.” He reached out for a glass of wine on the table in front of him, “Although,” she drew out the word, and watched his pincer stop short of the glass, “There is just one little issue that I'm afraid I have to ask about. Steadhold.” She leaned forward in her chair, leveling her mismatched eyes at him. His cheeks flushed slightly and he stilled under her gaze.
“Ah, yes. Steadhold,” Achereon cleared his throat, resuming his reach for the wine glass, “As I said, it is insignificant. The rebels have nowhere else to turn, so they garrisoned the nearest town to their crossings. We've already begun our assault, I expect to hear of the town's capture tomorrow morning.”
He waved down a servant, motioning for a plate of food to be brought out to him. Catra's eyes narrowed at his dismissal, “And why is that, General?”
He perked an eyebrow and hummed noncommittally, “Because my forces entered the town today,” He said slowly, choosing his words, “As I said, we've begun our assault. They put up some resistance, I will admit, but tomorrow morning when we resume our attack we will sweep them aside.” He collected himself once more, forcing himself to meet her eyes, “Really, this isn't so urgent that Lord Hordak needs you to report the details. If you please, Commander, simply-”
“Force Commander.”
Achereon's words died out as his mouth slowly closed. He hesitated for a moment before cautiously saying, “I- I'm sorry?”
“Really now, General,” Her tone a blend of innocent and impetuous she was so rarely able to use outside of her few dealings with the Rebellion, “I know you've been away from the capital for awhile, but we simply must maintain our propriety when addressing our superiors, shouldn't we?” She pretended not to see the veins in his neck bulge as she scratched idly at the table before raising her hand up to inspect her claws. The Scorpioni held a societal distaste for Catra's people, believing themselves to be generally superior. It was more common among the older generations, and based on his reaction the General subscribed to the old sentiment.
The silence between them held for a moment as Achereon studied her face. Forcing his jaw muscles to relax, he replied stonily, “Yes, well, Force Commander, as I said, if you would be so kind as to convey to Lord Hordak-”
“I'm sorry, but I don't think you understand why I'm here,” She interrupted him again, her voice dripping with the satisfaction she tried, and largely failed, to keep off of her face, “You see, Hordak didn't send me here. Sure he knows where I am, and approves, but military matters fall under my purview, and I've been getting some reports from your camp that have been, well, disturbing.” She continued inspecting her claws as his face darkened to a few shades lighter than his carapace, Catra suspected that if she listened closely, she may just be able to hear steam escaping.
“And what reports would those be?” He spat, venom creeping into his voice.
She flicked a small piece of wood off of her claw and looked over her hand at him, her look hardening into a glare. “Reports of your inability to capture one little, what did you call it? Insignificant town?” He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off before he could utter a sound, “You seem to have left some details out of the official reports you've been sending to me. My sources are telling me that you're barely closer to taking this town than you were when you arrived, seven days ago. Let's see if these sound familiar, hmm?” Catra lifted her trackerpad from the table as if to read from it, but her eyes remained locked into his.
“Day one, General Scorpestus ordered a regimental infantry assault alongside armored support vehicles through the Greatmore forest towards the rebel held town of Steadmore. Due to difficulties related to moving armored vehicles through heavily wooded terrain and constant harassment by rebel skirmishers, progress was slow and costly.”
“Now see here-” The General started, but Catra continued over him, her voice hardening.
“Day two, orders received to conduct frontal assaults across the entire line of contact against fortified enemy positions. Forward elements breached three rebel positions in the town, little else was achieved. Day three, orders remain in effect from the day prior, seven rebel squad-level positions breached, three positions recaptured during rebel counterattack. And on, and on, and on.” She dropped her trackerpad onto the table with a loud 'clang'. “That sounds just a little bit different from the reports we received from you, which don't even admit that fighting started until yesterday. Now, according to my reports, today was the sixth day of combat, and I seem to be sitting in a tent in the forest, instead of in a nice, cozy building inside of that town. So after six days of fighting, what makes you so sure that tomorrow is your lucky day?”
The General exploded out of his seat, his wine glass spilling across the floor, “This is utterly preposterous! I have led the campaigns to capture this region since the war's inception, and I refuse to sit here as some upstart cat,” he spat out like the words were rotten meat, “Sits there and critiques my leadership!” His barbed tail swung furiously behind him in an instinctual display, Catra remained still in her seat, her eyes thinned to slits, “I cannot comprehend why Lord Hordak saw fit to allow someone like you in your position, but I will see to it that he hears of my, and my family's, displeasure with the appointment. I will be sending my own messenger to convey our progress to our Lord, good day Force Commander.” He turned from the table and stormed to the tent's flap.
Catra watched as he walked away, careful to track his tail and its venomous stinger until it was a safe distance away. As he neared the edge of the tent, the flap was thrown open when two soldiers forced themselves inside, sending the General stumbling backwards. Rather than the typical blocky grey armor and outdated stun batons many of the General's soldiers were still equipped with, these soldiers stood in dark, angular armor wielding the Horde's newest blaster rifles. A matching pair of soldiers entered the tent on the far end as well.
Achereon looked between the soldiers and Catra, who had reclined in her seat and began sipping at her previously untouched wine glass. “Wha- What do you think you're doing? Let me pass!” The soldiers didn't move, “That is an order!”
The armored figures remained where they were. Silent, emotionless face masks staring back at the enraged man. He wheeled around to address Catra, “I don't know what game you think that you're playing, but this indignity will not go unanswered. My family will hear of this, and I will see to it you will go back to being just another mongrel on the street where you belong!”
Catra took a long, slow sip of her wine. She was never much for alcohol, but she had to admit that she was enjoying the flavor, or perhaps she was just enjoying the situation enough that it improved the drink. “Well. It's always nice to get over the formalities, I think. Tell me, General, what do you think of Hordak's new Shocktroopers? Personally, I would have gone with uniforms more on the lighter side, all of that armor would restrict my movement too much. Then again, they seem to be handling it just fine.”
“Sh-Shocktroopers?” The blood drained from Achereon's face as Catra picked up the familiar scent of fear creeping into the tent. “What are Lord Hordak's bodyguards doing here?”
“Because, I'm disappointed in you General. You've spent decades holding this front. You know the terrain, you know the enemy, and you know your own army. You have every advantage.” He sputtered at her, unable to get a word out as he grew more pale, “The rebels are in retreat on every front. We're getting closer to their capitals every day, and our soldiers are outpacing theirs in every measurable way. Yet, here you are bleeding away your numbers by resorting to wave tactics. I'm sure that even someone as worthless as you can come up with something better than that.”
“Worthless?!” the General started towards Catra, stopping abruptly as each Shocktrooper in the tent took a single step towards him.
“Yes, General, worthless.” She gently returned her glass to the table before standing up and sauntering towards the man, her tail swaying lazily behind her. “We have every advantage here, the rebels don't even have one of their precious Princesses here to face us, but you're throwing away our troops. My troops.”
She stood in front of the General, just outside of the range of his stinger. Her voice turned to ice as she looked up at him, “Sixteen hundred killed, wounded, and missing in Six. Days. And that's just this town. Every engagement you've conducted during this offensive has been a bloodbath, on both sides. We gave you everything you needed to take this region, and you just threw them all at the enemy head first. Hordak and I might have our disagreements, but one thing we share is that we don't tolerate waste.” Achereon kept his mouth closed, answering Catra only with an equally icy glare.
“So we're here to fix the problem you've gotten us into. After all, you were right about one thing, General,” She stepped past him to the tent's flap and held it open, revealing a column of Shocktroopers marching into the war camp.
“Tomorrow, we take Steadhold.”
There was a certain energy that flowed through Catra when she stood on a battlefield, like electricity coursed through every limb. Closing her eyes, she took in her surroundings. The air smelled of smoke and ozone, her ears twitched as a pair of assault skiffs flew overhead to perform another strike on rebel positions. The ground rumbled softly beneath her feet from her far off tanks. As grim as it all was, she missed it. Her new position as Force Commander meant that she rarely got the opportunity to take to the field.
In a way, she owed that moron Achereon. If he hadn't dropped the ball so hard on this campaign, she wouldn't have had an excuse to make her appearance, and if he had been smarter in his plans to take Steadhold, then Hordak never would have authorized the deployment of his Shocktroopers. As the Force Commander, she was technically the ranking officer over Hordak's personal troops, but they would never act without his express permission.
She could have taken the town using normal soldiers. There wasn't even a need to continue Achereon's frontal assaults, however, there was something to be said about the use of overwhelming force. With the arrival of her elite troops, she didn't have to worry about taking heavy casualties. The Shocktroopers were trained for exactly this situation. The message they sent to the Rebellion would be clear, 'We can do what we want, where we want. Nothing will stand in our way, and you can't stop us.'
The communications bud in her ear chirped the signal she was waiting for, their air support was leaving the airspace and going into a holding pattern nearby. Opening her eyes, she released a slow, steadying breath while the commanders under her reported their readiness. When the final unit checked in, she held a finger to the earbud and pressed the transmit key, “All units, begin your attack.”
She crouched low in her pile of rubble and perked her ears, waiting for a sign that her order was being followed. Across the town, teams of Shocktroopers had used the distraction of artillery and aerial bombardments to sneak through the destroyed town, setting up to cross the line of contact and storm rebel positions across the entire line. Catra had positioned herself near the Southern edge of the attack, close enough that she could react if something happened, but far enough away from the main lines of effort that she wouldn't face undue resistance.
She knew that as the second highest ranking member of the Horde she probably should have stayed back from the fighting, but she belonged on the battlefield, not just looking at it on a map. Her subordinates could be trusted to carry out their orders, so she had taken the chance to requisition one of the new blaster pistols and wade into combat herself. The small metal device was as powerful as the old stun batons on full power, but more compact and easier to aim in close quarters, which is where Catra did her best work.
She left the pistol in its thigh holster and crept out of her hiding spot, careful to not expose herself. From her spot in the rubble she caught a glimpse of movement inside the two story building across the street. A rebel fireteam was set up inside, hopefully panicking after the explosive assault the town had been put through. She knew that she would be entering combat soon, and a familiar mixture of anticipation and trepidation grew in her as she tracked the movement. Pretty soon she would be in combat against the people in that house, and she intended to be the only one walking away from it.
The sound of tanks firing across the town signaled the beginning of the battle, and Catra's thoughts faded away as instinct and training took over. The rebels across the street would be expecting the same mass attacks they had faced over the last few days, giving Catra the chance to slip across the street while they recovered from the shock of the bombardment. Moving on all fours, she darted to the side of the house, stopping near a window that opened into a side alley.
The lingering smells from a week of fighting prevented Catra from picking up individual scents, but she could hear panicked voices from inside, at least two of them. From the level of noise, they were most likely taking cover in one of the rooms adjacent to the room her window opened into. Catra slipped up and over the windowsill, slinking her way into the house.
She was in the kitchen, to her right was an open door that looked like it went down into a basement, while in front of her was another door, cracked open, giving Catra a narrow view into the adjacent room. The voices were coming from behind the door, louder now, but still unintelligible under the din of combat breaking out around them. Through the crack Catra could see a bookshelf and the edge of a couch, probably a living room. Similar to the kitchen, the room was likely cleared out, most of the furniture pushed up along the street-side wall to create concealment. Not that it did them any good.
Catra quietly moved to the door and unsheathed her claws as her senses went into overdrive, trying to pick out anything that would give her an advantage. She couldn't see hinges on the door, meaning that it would swing into the other room, rather than towards her. One of the voices stopped, and she listened as footsteps made their way towards the kitchen.
When the door began to move, Catra dashed forward and put all of her weight behind a kick that sent the door, and the rebel behind it, flying. A shocked cry escaped the rebel as they were thrown back onto the ground across the room. Catra didn't let them recover as she darted into the room after them.
There were two rebels still standing, one to her immediate left, and the other on the far side, both turning to face the open door. They were too slow as Catra pounced on the first rebel, grabbing his exposed neck and letting momentum spin her around him. His cries were cut short as blood spilled out around Catra's claws.
The far rebel raised their weapon and fired, the shot going wide and impacting the wall behind her. Catra dropped the dying rebel and caught herself on the wall with one foot, pushing off to launch towards the standing rebel.
She moved in close, dodging a second shot. One fist lashed out, catching the rebel in the jaw, as the other slapped the blaster out of their hands. Catra grabbed her opponent's shoulder and pulled them in, slamming her knee into the rebel's stomach, doubling them over.
The first rebel had recovered from their flight across the room and moved to level her rifle at Catra. With a kick, the doubled over rebel tumbled onto their comrade, bringing them both back to the ground. Catra followed behind, claws out as she descended on the pair. It wasn't what an observer would call a fair fight, barely eight seconds had passed between the door being kicked in and Catra standing alone in the room with three corpses. She hadn't even touched her sidearm.
Catra breathed hard as she surveyed her handiwork, unable to avoid the coppery smell of blood that was slowly covering the floor. The rebels were decently equipped, a couple of Horde blasters and a Salisean rifle along with patchwork armor. Their fighting wasn't up to her standards, but she had gotten the drop on them, and there weren't many people that could contend with her claws in close combat.
As she turned to leave, a gurgling cry stopped her. She looked down at the rebel whose neck she had shredded. He had fallen to the ground, hands futilely trying to stem the flow of blood from his throat. His eyes rose to meet hers, a wet, strangled sound escaping his mouth as he tried to speak. His frantic attempts at drawing a breath were slowing, as was the stream of blood flowing down over his uniform. Catra looked into his eyes as they began to gloss over, and without a word drew her pistol and placed a single shot into the side of his head, ending his struggle.
Reports of successful breakthroughs filtered into her earbud while she cleared the rest of the house, sweeping through each room to make sure there was no one left inside. Satisfied that she was alone, and that her trust in her subordinates was justified, Catra moved towards the alleyway and her next target. After a few more rebel positions, she would have to rejoin her soldiers at the operations center they were setting up inside of the town for her.
Walking out the back door of the house, Catra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was gruesome and messy. But it was necessary for her plan to come together. Once they captured the town, their northern flank would be secured, and the next phase of her plan for the war could begin. The sooner that happened, the sooner the war, and the bloodshed, would end. She would win. Then everyone would understand exactly what she was capable of, the Princesses, Hordak, Shadow Weaver... Adora. They would all see, and if it meant that she had to get her claws dirty and fight her way through every room, every building, every town, and every kingdom on Etheria, she had to be willing to do that. She was willing to do that.
She had to win, nothing else mattered.
It was going to be a good day to be the Force Commander, Catra decided. In only an hour her force had swept through the rebel lines, cleared out every position they came across, and secured over half of the town. At the rate things were going, she would have to start planning a follow-on operation to capitalize on the collapse of rebel forces in the region earlier than she expected.
Catra strode across her temporary war room and leaned over a map spread across a table in the center of the room, studying the area between Steadhold and the Tallow river. Two human officers looked over the map with her, Force Captain Blake was in command of the Shocktrooper battalion she had brought with her and Senior Captain Hunter commanded one of the battalions in the task force already embattled in the town when she arrived. The General had been confined to his tent for the time being, as much as Catra wanted to just be rid of him, he was right about how much influence his family held in the Horde. He would be filed off somewhere and given command of a garrison near the capital. Something flashy, but ultimately unimportant..
“Ma'am, we could use our remaining armored support vehicles and a company of my infantry to move forward and take this high ground here,” Hunter pointed to a hill half a kilometer east of the river. “Most of the rebel force is still engaged, but they're breaking. Pretty soon we'll have a rout on our hands. My soldiers are tired, but they're still fit to fight. We can take the hilltop, establish an observation position and call in corrections to our artillery. Box in the rebels as they retreat.” The regular soldiers had been relegated to holding the flanks of Catra's attack, mainly to protect the armored vehicles outside of the town from any rebel counterattack, but also to keep them out of the way as the Shocktroopers cleared the town.
“Do you think they'll be able to?” Catra quirked an eyebrow towards the officer, “Your guys have been here for most of a week and the last commander didn't exactly give you any time to rest.”
Hunter stiffened, “We've taken casualties, ma'am, but we've reorganized the battalions that got the worst of it.” He was able to keep the edge out of his voice, but only just, “My soldiers are solid. We're a mechanized battalion, we're meant for maneuver warfare, not an urban grind. Let us do what we were trained for, ma'am, and I swear that you won't be disappointed.”
Force Captain Blake let out an almost imperceptible snort as he looked over to the Senior Captain. The Shocktroopers had been unimpressed with the task force so far, but Catra liked some of the officers she met after relieving Achereon of command. The General had misused most of the units at his disposal, but his inadequacy didn't reflect the capabilities of all of his subordinates. Hunter had stepped up and led the effort to recover the task force after Catra took command. He showed initiative, which was unfortunately rare in the Horde. It was something that she had worked to encourage since she took over as second-in-command, but change was slow for an army as large as hers.
“Alright, if you think that you can handle it.” Catra said, “But we can't shift too many of our forces from the assault. If the rebels break from the town and swarm you before you can set up, you're not going to have support for a while.” She swept a hand toward the indicated high ground on the map, “Take whatever you need from the troops in the Northern sector, it's been quiet there, and the units were part of our reserves so they should be more rested than the troops helping hold our flanks.”
The officer straightened and saluted, “Thank you ma'am, I'll get the orders sent out immediately.” She waved a hand at him dismissively, prompting him to leave the building.
She returned to the map, studying the defensive positions that the rebels had set up deeper in the town. It wouldn't take much to break through them, but without the shock that came from their initial assault the Shocktroopers would take higher casualties than before. She traced a finger along the line of contact, looking for a weak point that she could target to reduce her own losses.
Her musings were interrupted by Force Captain Blake, who was still at the table with her, “And here I thought that you didn't tolerate waste.”
She snapped her eyes at the Force Captain, who was still looking down at the map, and snarled, “Excuse me?”
“You said, with the General, that you didn't tolerate waste.” He finally looked up at her, his face void of any emotion, “So why waste our vehicles on his little mission? Given how the regulars have performed so far, I doubt that we're going to be seeing them again.”
Catra blew an exasperated breath out of her nose. Shocktroopers held everyone else in the Horde's military in contempt. No one could meet their standards, even when they performed well. To a degree Catra could understand, she was the best too and she made sure that everyone knew it, but sometimes the flagrant superiority complex rubbed her the wrong way.
'Ah, yes. How someone as unmotivated as you completed the course in that time, I'll never know' The fur along her spine involuntarily rose at the sharp voice that filled her memories. She straightened her back, forcing herself to relax as much as she could. Shadow Weaver wasn't here. No, she was with the Rebellion now.
Catra didn't try to keep the bite out of her voice, “I'll be sure to keep in mind what you consider wasteful. Your Shocktroopers have spent most of this war sitting in the Fright Zone, while I've been busy winning it.” Her glare sharpened, “If I think that someone will be of use, I use them. I'll decide what's wasteful and what's not. So stop worrying about what the regulars are doing, and start focusing on your own task, namely getting me my town.”
The Force Captain shrugged and gave a noncommittal grunt as he turned back towards the map. Catra had to stop her eye from twitching, maybe it was a good thing that Hordak didn't let his personal guard leave the Fright Zone very often. As much as she appreciated their abilities, she could tell that spending too much time around them would probably lead to someone losing an eye. Again.
She turned from the table to retrieve a batch of reports from the desk behind her when she heard heavy footsteps approaching her temporary war room. Another Shocktrooper, a Corporal, entered the room and came to attention, “Excuse me ma'am, sir. I have a report for you.” Catra waved a hand for him to continue, still studying the maps, “Bravo company reports that they've taken the medical station in the southern sector and captured the rebels being treated there.” Catra did nothing to suppress her grin, the rebels always defended their medical personnel tooth and nail. Capturing the aid station meant that a significant thorn in their side had been removed, not to mention the intel that they would be able to get out of the prisoners.
“Excellent,” she traced the frontline across the map until she found the aid station, “Now that that's out of the way, we can get started on clearing the-”
“Excuse me, ma'am.” the soldier spoke up again.
“What!?” Catra snapped, the Shocktroopers were starting to wear on her nerves.
“I'm sorry ma'am, but there's something else. Bravo company's commander is requesting that you meet him near the aid station. He says that a prisoner matched the description of one of the retainers for Brightmoon's Queen.”
Catra's ear flicked as she registered the news, “Did he mention which one?”
“No ma'am, he was interrupted by a small counterattack and had to make the message short. From what one of his soldiers said, I believe that they were male and that they had been injured badly enough that they couldn't be moved very far.”
Catra frowned, the Rebellion's sparkly new Queen didn't have many retainers, let alone ones that would leave the castle without her. If it was the archer, then there was a good chance that at least one of the Princesses would be nearby. On their own, she could deal with a Princess, but in groups they were deadly.
'And if Adora's with them-' Catra forced the thought down. Adora was just another Princess. As long as there wasn't a group of the magical disasters, she could handle them, whichever ones they might be.
“Alright, I'll go interrogate him myself,” She started towards the door, “Force Captain, see to it that your troopers finish this up quickly. We don't want any surprises to catch us before we take the town.” Before he could respond, she was out the door, following behind the messenger.
Catra was scowling. It was a short walk to the aid station, the town itself wasn't large, but it took longer than if Catra had been by herself and it grated on her nerves. The messenger had taken it upon himself to guide her there along with an extra squad of Shocktroopers. She understood that the reinforcements were probably needed, from the reports the fight for the aid station was brutal. If there was one thing the rebels could be trusted to fight to the death over, it was their wounded comrades.
The streets were ruined, buildings had been reduced to rubble in the protracted fight for the town and fresh signs of combat were everywhere. Rear echelon troops were already clearing out the dead, rebels and her own, and the sight made Catra mentally pause. The Shocktroopers had earned their reputation for brutal efficiency. They weren't giving the rebels the chance to retreat, instead opting to blast them out of every hole they were dug into with ruthless efficiency.
It unsettled her stomach. Walking through a town that she had ordered stormed forced her to confront the sheer scale of it. This town had been important once, supplies and travelers had used it as a way-station on their trek across the countryside. Now it was just a ruin, a pile of wood and stone where hundreds of people were dying, all at her command.
A familiar voice echoed through her mind as a phantom pain touched her jaw, 'Now live with it!' The memory of sky blue eyes bearing down into her, for perhaps the first time unblinded by hope and familiarity. Eyes that had once lit up around Catra had cut straight through her, down to her core, and found her wanting.
She picked up her pace as the thought and those that followed were relegated to the place they usually went. Somewhere out of sight or mind where she could deal with them later, preferably when there was a training dummy she could tear into. She had to get her head on straight, she was in the field and the battle wasn't over yet. She had to keep her wits about her, especially if she was going to get anything useful out of the prisoner.
The sound of movement ahead picked up as they turned a final corner and approached the aid station. The building was ruined, not that Catra expected much else. Makeshift fortifications surrounded it, sandbags, foxholes, and barbed wire had provided the rebels something to hide in or behind as they defended their position. Not that it helped. The street surrounding the three story building was blasted away, scorch marks indicated where her heavy weapons teams had set up to hammer the rebels with high explosives. Hiding behind wood and sand, the defenders hadn't stood a chance.
One of the walls to the aid station was caved in, revealing what must have been a surgical suite, gurneys and supplies were scattered around the remnants of the room along with what was left of its residents. Near a large red cross flag along the front of the building the Shocktroopers had gathered up the survivors, forcing them to kneel in a line. Most were wounded in some way, old bandages and new ones wrapped around their bodies, all soaked through with blood. A Senior Lieutenant walked up the line taking stock of their prisoners, she grabbed each rebel's heads and turned them to get a look at their face before saying something to a guard and moving on.
Catra motioned to the group and turned to the messenger that was supposed to be guiding her, “You said that the prisoner couldn't be moved, these ones don't look too bad off.”
The messenger caught up to Catra and huffed as they caught their breath, “Not- Not out here ma'am. He was in bad shape. They were keeping him back in- back in the aid station, far room from the entrance.” The rest of the squad caught up too, a couple peeling off to join the troops guarding the perimeter, but the rest formed up behind Catra.
Catra nodded at the messenger, “Alright. I'm going to go greet our guest, find the company commander and have them meet me here. Once I'm done with this I should have a new assignment for them.” She turned and stalked into the building, a smile creeping onto her face. Maybe an interrogation was what she needed to get out of her own head, something tangible she could focus on.
The aid station's interior was even more ruined than the outside was. It was clear that the Shocktroopers had cleared most of the rooms using grenades, regardless of if the room was filled with combatants or wounded. Catra had to force herself to take short breaths to try and avoid the smell. Most of the time her enhanced senses were a benefit, but being surrounded by the viscera that remained after a brutal battle made it difficult to think around the overwhelming scent of gore.
The building was mostly emptied, there were a few troopers milling about inside sorting through debris who stopped to nod at her as she passed. Stopping outside of the room the messenger described, she looked over her shoulder and addressed the soldiers following her, “Wait out here, I don't want anyone to disturb me.” The squad leader nodded and his troops fanned out around the door. She readied herself, taking a moment to put on her signature disdainful smirk before she stepped forward and opened the door. Presentation was everything, after all.
It was a small, dark room, the lights were turned off and empty beds sat to her left and right. On the far side sat a divider separating the room in two, she could see a tray full of medical supplies sitting next to a bed that was blocked off by the screen. There was a small lamp on the other side next to the bed, casting enough light to form the captive's silhouette on the divider.
She sauntered into the room, “Prisoner...” She let her words drip with gleeful superiority, “You and I are going to have a long talk, and by the time we're done I am going to drag every bit of information I can out of you.” The silhouette remained motionless, she stepped forward running a hand along the empty bed to her right, “And don't go thinking that you can play the strong, silent, defiant captive routine. You rebels and your friends always seem to think that that's going to work, but somehow they're always surprised when it fails them.” Still no reaction. Catra frowned, didn't they know that it was disrespectful to ignore your interrogator?
She moved further into the room, placing a hand on the divider, “Let me guess, you're thinking about how your precious Princesses are going to come save you, right? Well let me tell you now, they're not coming-” She ripped the divider away and started forward with a snarl, until she saw the figure laying down in front of her.
They weren’t what she was expecting. It wasn't Arrow Boy, or one of Glitter's guards, or even someone in the uniform of Brightmoon. Before her was a Lizardfolk that briefly reminded her of Rogelio, only with blue scales and longer fins along his neck, and they weren't wounded. The Lizardfolk was dead, seemingly had been for some time judging by the dried blood caking the wounds on his chest, and laying across his lap was a blaster rifle, one of the new rifles issued to the Shocktroopers outside. The same rifle whose distinct charging she could hear behind her.
She turned abruptly at the sound, the door to the room was still open, and standing in a line between her and it were the four Shocktroopers that were supposed to be waiting outside. They stood at the ready, raising their rifles to level at her.
“What-” She was all she got out before a flash of light and a burning pain in her left shoulder blinded her.
Reflexes honed through years of constant training and combat saved her life as she instinctively dove to the side, dodging a volley of blaster fire. As she moved, her uninjured arm shot out towards the medical tray next to her, flinging it across the room at her attackers. Landing behind the edge of the closer bed, another burning pain lancing up from her hip. A second shot had grazed her side, cauterizing the wound and singing her fur as it tore across her skin.
At the same time, the tray she sent flying across the room collided with one of the Shocktroopers, knocking him back into his partner. The other pair spread out across the room, rifles still firing as Catra scrambled to stay behind her makeshift cover.
There was no time to stop to think, she just had to act. Her bad hand drew her pistol and shoved it around the side of her cover, trading shots with assailants she couldn't see. She was rewarded with a pained grunt and the sound of an armored body hitting the ground. Heavy boots stomped on the wooden floor, skirting around the edge of the room. She couldn't sit still.
Catra grabbed the bed with her good arm, heaving it up and across the room as she stood. Blaster shots singed the mattress as it flew into the closest soldier, forcing him to drop his weapon as the sudden weight knocked him off of his feet. Catra kept low and dove forward towards the blaster fire.
Her shoulder slammed into the shins of another soldier, collapsing him on top of her. She recovered quickly, partially rolling out from under the falling soldier and raising her pistol. Aiming for the last standing trooper, she pulled the trigger until he crumbled to the ground.
The soldier she was tangled with twisted, swinging his blaster around to face her. Catra dropped her pistol and grabbed at the trooper, claws sinking into the gaps in his armor as she pulled herself up his body. His screams echoed in the cramped room as she sliced into him, knocking away the blaster. Before she could finish him off, a large weight dropped itself on her back and a sharp pain cut across her ribs.
The soldier she had hit with the mattress rejoined the fight, blaster seemingly forgotten as he charged her with a knife. Aiming to stab her, his blade glanced across her ribcage as she moved. She twisted around beneath him, struggling to avoid being pinned between two troopers. Before he could swing the knife back around, she grabbed at his helmet and pulled hard, breaking the seal around his neck and tearing the headgear off of him.
They tumbled around on the floor together, rolling off of the screaming soldier beneath them. Neither gained an immediate advantage as they moved. She was more deadly up close, but she was injured and his weight gave him an advantage bearing down on her. He focused high though, trying to keep her claws out of his face while using his knife to keep her at bay, but he ignored an important fact about Magicats. They had more than just two sets of claws.
Catra rolled her hips beneath the trooper, bringing her feet up to his waist and digging her claws into him. They were sharp enough to cut through reinforced steel if she worked at it, ceramic armor, cloth, and flesh stood no chance once she started kicking into him again and again. Dropping the knife, his voice raised in pitch as his screams joined his comrade's, but she didn't give him a chance to recover. As soon as his hands stopped swiping the knife towards her, she reached up and tore into his unprotected throat, spraying blood across her face and torso.
She shoved his corpse off of her and rolled over, grabbing the last living soldier by the collar and pulling his face towards hers, “Talk,” She growled, “Now.” He didn't. His cries had died down, reduced to a wet gurgling as blood leaked from underneath the seal in his helmet as well as the wounds in his stomach. On another day she may have finished him off, ending his pointless suffering.
She simply dropped him back to the ground, leaning away as he weakly reached out to her.
The sound of her raspy breaths and the blood rushing in her ears broke the deafening silence in the room. Her earbud had gone mysteriously quiet. She reached up and felt for it, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and side, and pulled it from her ear. It was still working, but there were no more radio calls coming through to her which meant one of two things; radio transmissions were being jammed, or her connection had been cut, probably by the same soldiers now attacking her. Whatever was going on, it wasn't likely to be an isolated incident.
She could hear movement and people yelling outside of the building. She didn't have long before she would be swarmed with more assailants, she had to move now. The Horde had taught her many things, and loath as she was to admit it, the two most important she learned from Shadow Weaver. Trust no one, and pushing through her pain was the only way to survive.
She forced herself up off of the ground, shoulder and sides screaming at her as she did, and collected her pistol, replacing its battery with a spare from her holster. As she turned to leave the room, she stopped and reached down to one of the corpses, collecting a first aid kit from its gear. Her injured arm was becoming heavier and harder to move. She had to focus on escaping her immediate surroundings, but as soon as she was able, patching up the wound in her shoulder needed to become a priority.
The sounds outside were louder now, and as she exited the room she didn't see any of the troopers that had been in here before. The aid station was completely empty, besides her and the still dying trooper behind her.
'Okay, Catra,' She thought to herself, moving carefully to avoid exposing herself in the windows, 'No comms, hole in your shoulder, and surrounded by your own troops who are apparently trying to kill you. No sweat, I've been in worse scrapes. I can do this.' she gulped as she peeked around the edge of a window to see several dozen Shocktroopers forming up across the street from the building's main entrance, while a small team moved forward to make entry. 'Counterpoint; I'm screwed.'
She only had a few moments before the Shocktroopers entered the building, and judging by how they had cleared it the first time, Catra wasn't going to sit around and wait for them. She retreated from the window, scanning the room for anything of use. What she really needed was a moment to think, weigh her options, and figure out what to do. She needed more time.
On the far side of the room was a small staircase leading to the second floor, she bolted towards it and began to climb up, pistol drawn as she went. The next floor was almost as empty as the ground floor was, but it was far more intact. As she cleared the staircase, the sounds of heavy boots clattered into the room beneath her. It wouldn't take them long to clear that floor and move up towards her.
There was nothing that she could use in the room, no weapons or anything that could successfully block the stairs for long. She looped around and ascended the staircase to the top floor. There were only cardboard boxes and a couple of old cots pushed up against a wall with a large window. Making distance from the stairs, Catra approached the window carefully. It faced the opposite side of the building than she had entered from. She could make out the tops of the buildings across the street and a road that gently curved north.
After a moment, she realized what she didn't see. The front of the building had a couple dozen Shocktroopers set up watching it, but the rear appeared to be lightly defended, and most of them were facing outwards, towards the rebel lines.
An idea formed in Catra's mind. Not a good idea. Actually it was probably a very bad idea, a very bad idea that might only succeed in getting her killed. She was only on the third floor, it wasn't that high up. She had taken harder falls back in the Fright Zone as a kid exploring with Adora.
'Options: jump through a window and hope to not get shot,' She took a few steps back and looked to the staircase, 'Stay here and absolutely get shot.' Back to the window, 'Broken leg if I mess up,' Once more back to the staircase as the bootfalls started to climb towards her, 'Broken everything if I stay... Shit.' She groaned and rolled her shoulder before turning back to the window and forcing herself forward before she could think more.
She crashed through the window at near full speed, propelling herself into the street below. She briefly registered the Shocktroopers below, turning in surprise at the sound before her legs made contact with the ground and she tucked herself into a roll. Her momentum kept her moving as she came back up to her feet, already in a run as she darted past the soldiers and down the curved street.
The acrid scent of ozone scorched her sinuses as blaster shots zipped past her. The Horde soldiers had recovered quickly, their shouts carried up the street as she rounded the bend in the road and the aid station disappeared. Pain flared in her shoulder as she ran, but she couldn't stop until she was sure that she wouldn't immediately be found. Taking a series of quick turns, she tucked herself into a side alley between two houses.
Catra's ears swiveled around as she came to a stop, listening for any pursuers. Once she was satisfied that she had a few moments to herself, the aid kit came out. As she inspected herself, she was startled at the amount of blood she was covered in. Plenty of it on her torso and legs were from the soldiers she had eviscerated with her claws, but her left arm was drenched and she could tell that much of it was her own.
A standard Horde combat aid kit had enough supplies to keep from bleeding out until a wounded soldier could get back to a medic or doctor, but it didn't mean that it was pleasant. Painkillers were reserved for medical professionals to dish out, so while she could keep from dying, Catra wouldn't have any relief for the pain webbing out from her injuries. She pulled out bandages and a hemostatic dressing to stop her bleeding.
She hissed as she pressed the dressing into her wound, packing it into the partially cauterized hole in her shoulder. It would work fast and force her blood to clot, stopping the bleeding. Once it was secured, she wrapped herself in bandages as best she could with one good arm. The cut on her side was bad and would need stitches, as would her arms she noted. Several cuts lined her arms from the broken glass she had jumped through and landed on, but they were minor enough to simply wrap.
Before she could start bandaging her arms, a rustling caught her attention down the alley behind her. She grabbed the aid kit and pulled herself back into the shadows, keeping still as she waited for any sign of her pursuers. The Shocktroopers were on the hunt, and it wouldn't be long before they caught up to her. When she was sure she wasn't in immediate danger of being caught, Catra stuffed the bandages back into the aid kit and attached it to her belt. The pain in her shoulder had lessened to a deep throbbing, and while she could still move the arm, each motion sent a bolt of pain down the limb. She didn't have time to fashion a sling, so the limb hung limply by her side.
The patch job would have to suffice for the short term. She couldn't stay still for too long, if she wanted to stay out of sight then she would have to stay mobile. Catra slunk out from her hiding place and began to make her way deeper into Steadhold. The town was crawling with soldiers, the Horde's as well as the Rebellion's, and Catra wasn't eager to find out what would happen if either side caught her. There was a chance, she figured, that the regular soldiers wouldn't shoot her on sight, but the rank and file Shocktroopers were fanatics. They wouldn't do anything without Hordak's direct approval. Even if the regulars didn't turn on her immediately they would be ordered to eventually.
Catra couldn't trust any of them, 'Not that I really could to begin with' she thought to herself. A mental image of Scorpia floated between her thoughts, but she shook it away. Scorpia was loyal, true, but that could go both ways. Catra decided not to test the thought of who Scorpia's loyalty would be truer to, Catra or the Horde, and she didn't think she could handle the answer if it turned out not to be her. Either way, the woman wasn't even in the same kingdom as her, and Catra had to focus on the immediate situation.
She couldn't turn back, couldn't stay still, and couldn't trust anyone in the town not to shoot her. The town was surrounded on all sides by regular troops and Rebellion fighters, except she had dispatched a number of her reserves from the north side, leaving it undermanned. That was where she would have the best chance to pass through unnoticed. The only problem was that she'd have to sneak or fight her way through a town filled with combat veterans to get there, but she had grown up in the Fright Zone. If there was any place on Etheria that prepared someone to stay hidden in an urban environment, it was there.
Grateful that she had stopped wearing her Force Captain badge, with its built-in tracking chip, she steeled herself for what was sure to be a harrowing journey. Catra set out in the shadows, towards her uncertain future and the echoing sounds of combat.