She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Fanfiction: Genetic Composite - 20. Fragments Falling into Places
- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Fanfiction: Genetic Composite
- 20. Fragments Falling into Places
Disclaimer: I do not own She-Ra or its related characters. All is the property of Noelle Stevenson, Dream Works Animation, Netflix, NBCUniversal Television Distribution, Filmation, Larry DiTillo, and J. Michael Straczynski.
Chapter Twenty: Fragments Falling into Places
Hordak gasped when he felt a clawed hand wrap around his ankle and pull him out from under the console he was working on. A halo of wires that he was working on ripped out with him.
Snarling, Hordak sat up to glare at the one who dared bother him.
“Hey, Hordak.” She said in a taunting tone that somehow made his skin crawl. “You’ve been taking a while, with nothing to show for it.”
Something in the back of his mind set off an alarm. He was in danger here. One misstep could end him. End him before he ever had a chance to see Entrapta again and demand his satisfaction. Never mind getting home and seeing Prime. Catra had the upper hand. Hadn’t had the upper hand since the portal was opened less than a month ago.
“It has not even been one month of this planet’s lunar rotations.” He reminded her. “One cannot expect instantaneous results. Not if you wish a job done properly.”
He said this, remembering full well that he had often demanded instant results from those under him, regardless of the difficulty of the task. Hordak cast his brain around trying to remember if Catra was one such underling he demanded immediate results from and he was alarmed to realize that he could not recall.
Her lips curled into an unforgiving sneer. “I’m giving you until the end of the day.”
“End of the night.” Hordak argued, irrationally negotiating for more time knowing full well that he did not have the upper hand in this situation. “I work best in the dark.”
That unforgiving sneer morphed into a humorless smile. Almost malicious. Like she were laughing at some cruel but secret joke that only she knew. “Until the end of the night.”
She held his eyes for a moment longer. Mismatched yellow and blue, holding bioluminescent red.
Hordak looked away first. Admitting submission.
Catra smirked with a nod. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She walked away.
Hordak watched her leave, waiting to the count of ten after the bridge door closed behind her to move. He didn’t exactly know what he had to do, but he did know that he couldn’t remain with Catra. He didn’t know the desert like she did, upon arriving in the Crimson Wastes, Hordak quickly learned that all of the reports he’d received on it were inaccurate, if not all out wrong. So, running aimlessly into the dunes was not an escape, it was just a different kind of sentence. What he needed was help.
Loath though he was to admit it.
Needing help meant he was weak.
But, as a treacherous scientist he still had conflicting feelings about once said, ‘Everyone needs a little help sometimes.’
Hordak hadn’t been able to figure out the former She-Ra’s message. It was very apparent to him that he needed the sword for that. However, every ship had a distress signal. That would be simple and straightforward. The kind of thing that even an untrained passenger could activate in a panic-stricken stupor.
The only technology on this miserable planet capable of picking up on a First Once signal was the equipment in his own Sanctum –which may or may not still be functioning- and the Princess Alliance. Hordak already knew that the chances of his own people picking up and following the signal in a meaningful time were slim to none. Not to mention, there was no reason for a Horde soldier to answer a distress signal in the first place. If a being was begging strangers for help, then they were too weak to be worth giving help to.
The Princess Alliance, however… they were soft. Their hearts bleeding for the disadvantaged and the needy. They would answer a distress call. All the more so, since this distress call would be coming from the former She-Ra’s ship. Even if they didn’t necessarily want to help, they would at least want to know what was going on at so important a place.
Once they arrived, obviously, they would never help him.
But former-Force Captain Adora and Catra might distract each other enough that Hordak could commandeer whatever vehicle they came in to simply just drive out of the Crimson Wastes. The two women were rather obsessed with each other, he’d noticed. What better distraction was there for Catra but Adora!
It was the best plan he could come up with on such short notice with such little time.
The command room door slid open to reveal that Entrapta had already returned. Dak paused before entering, wondering if they even should, or if they should continue to ‘give Mother some time’, as Micah suggested.
But then Entrapta looked over her shoulder to see who had just come him. “Oh. You’re here.” Her expression was cautiously curious. “Adora say’s you’re also good with tech. Come in and give me a hand with this.”
With nothing else to do, Dak shrugged and did as they were told. Imp resting on their shoulder, their ever-faithful companion.
The command room was much changed from when Dak ran out of it just a few hours before. The consoles and screens that had been inactive and inert before, were now booted up and running, blazing with warm soft light. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the change. The bioluminescent glow of their sclera dimming to not overstimulate the hybrid’s retina.
“Come in, come in.” Moving on her hair, Entrapta crossed the space to the door and wrapped a tentacle of hair around the child, pulling them off their feet and all the way into the control room.
Imp squawked in protest, falling off Dak’s shoulder when she yanked the hybrid off their feet.
Both Dak and Entrapta ignored him.
“This is the most complete First Ones outpost I’ve ever seen!” She continued, not looking at the hybrid as she spoke, but still keeping her hair wrapped around them as she moved. “If I’m gonna study it, I’ll need a lab-” she cut herself off abruptly, stumbling over whatever word she was about to use. “An intern. I’ll need an intern. Since Adora says you’re good at tech, I was thinking you could be my Lab Intern.”
It was all the hybrid could do to just stare at their mother. Just a few hours ago, she couldn’t even be in the same room as them. Now, here she was, wrapping her hair around them and carrying them around the room as she explained things, speaking a mile a minute, and asking them to work along side her on a shared interest.
“I can take apart and put back together the robots in your Locked Room.” Dak informed her, to give an idea of their level of knowledge and skill. ‘Good with tech’ could mean any number of things and Dak did not want to endanger this tentative connection with their mother just because she and Adora had different ideas of what ‘good with tech’ meant.
Entrapta paused, not quite understanding for a moment. “‘Locked Room’? Oh! You must mean my Lab! I keep it locked when I’m not in there. So, you managed to get in huh? Not bad, not bad. All my robots are my own design, but they run off First Ones power crystals, so you’re at least familiar with that much First Ones tech. Good. Good. And I’ve been told that you fixed Imp when he was offline for a bit. Imp is a very sophisticated AI from another dimension.”
Not knowing how to react to all this –for lack of a better term- praise, Dak only flushed, feeling suddenly very self-conscious. “I don’t know what all the things are called, so I can’t explain how I fixed him. I just took a look inside and connected the pieces I thought fit together.” A shrug. “Then Imp woke up and was fine.”
They did not feel the need to share the detail that they were the one who broke Imp and caused the android to go offline in the first place.
“Fascinating.” Entrapta was not looking at them. “You’re a natural prodigy with technology. Hordak, that is, the original Hordak wasn’t as clever as that. He was well educated, obviously, but not intuitive like that. That must be my genetic contribution manifesting. There is a long standing debate over whether intelligence is more strongly determined by environment or genetics. This would make a strong case for genetics.”
Once again, Dak didn’t know what to say in response to that, so they just didn’t say anything. They were just glad Mother wanted them around now.
It seemed no response was necessary because Mother was still talking. Explanations tumbling out of her mouth a mile a minute. She was exhibiting all the energy and passion that came across on her recordings. This was the version of Mother Dak was hoping to meet and they were happy Mother was recovered from her shock of meeting them enough to be this version of herself around them.
“Now that Adora’s got this place up and running, there’s so much data to go through!”
In a bit of a daze, Dak gave the now well-lit and functioning command room a more thorough examination. The consoles mostly all seemed to be on some kind of ‘waiting’ screen, although Dak could not be sure as they couldn’t read the Frist Ones language all the tech was programmed in. The central display screen, however, the one that took up almost the whole front wall, was displaying what might have been a map. It was mostly blank, but it had the latitude and longitude lines of a map. There was a spinning status wheel in the center of the screen as if it were trying to load something, or processing something, or scanning for something. Then every so often the status wheel would be interrupted and a message would flash on the screen, probably informing them of the results of the scan, although Dak couldn’t read it.
“What are we looking for?” They asked. Dak wanted to help Mother and make her like them, but they also needed to know what Mother wanted if they were to try and do it.
“Looking for?” Entrapta was momentarily confused. “We’re not looking for anything in particular. We’re just looking for knowledge! A better understanding of the First Ones and their technology.”
Wriggling in their mother’s hair enough to free one arm, Dak pointed a taloned finger at the main display screen on the front wall. “What’s that doing?”
Entrapta followed their finger with her eyes. “Oh. That. Adora set it to look for Eternia, but Eternia’s not here, so it just keep saying ‘Not Found’ then trying again. It’s in a bit of a loop.” She laughed happily. Technology could be funny.
Dak didn’t know what ‘Eternia’ was or how it might be important to Adora, but if it wasn’t within range of the scanners then it wasn’t relevant at the moment. What was relevant was that Mother wanted to learn more about First Ones tech and she was giving them an opportunity to work with her. Dak did not want to disappoint. They wanted to impress her. They wanted to contribute meaningfully to her research. “What if we set it to scan for other things?”
Turning her attention from the screen, Entrapta blinked at the hybrid, almost as if seeing them for the first time. Then her lips pulled into an excited smile and she clasped her hands together. “Like more First Ones tech! We could map out every single First Ones outpost, settlement, communications array, beacon, and base on the whole planet!”
She let the hybrid down out of her hair and turned to the nearest console, trying to recall her own rudimentary knowledge of the First Ones language. She could read a little. She wasn’t fluent. Certainly nowhere near as fluent as Adora. But she understood enough –she liked to think.
Dak could not reach the First Ones writing. They had been just barely beginning to master the Dryl dialect of Etherian basic when they ran away from home with Bow and Adora. First Ones language was beyond them. But they hoped that the suggestion was enough of a contribution that Mother would start to appreciate them.
Moving on their own hair, Dak came up beside Mother to get a better look at what she was doing. They didn’t recognize any of the characters or symbols on the keys she was typing, but she seemed to and that was the important thing, they supposed.
Imp came back to rest on top of the hybrid’s head to likewise watch Entrapta work, feeling oddly nostalgic. Seeing the hyper and overly excited Princess flit about a lab, with a sparkle in her eye, while a Horde clone looked on in mesmerized confusion. …Imp didn’t realize how much he missed master until this moment. He had been focused on master’s heir this whole time. He never had the chance to pause long enough to wonder what happened to master. Unlike Hode –whom Imp witnessed the fate of- he never saw what happened to master after the Princesses got in. He was in the corridors, covered in foam, locked out of the Sanctum, and master was in the Sanctum with the portal. Imp had no idea what happened to him.
“Look at this!” Entrapta interrupted their thoughts. “There’s a First One’s communications array in the Whispering Woods, in the village of Alwyn! And a First Ones stronghold, also in the Whispering Woods. Lot of First Ones tech in the Whispering Woods. Huh. Must have been a favorite spot of their’s or something.” She tapped her chin with her hair, filing the detail away in her mind for later study. “Ah! Here’s all the First Ones tech that keeps being unearthed in my mines back in Dryl. There’s the outpost in the Northern Reach. And over in the Crimson Wastes there’s-“
She cut herself off suddenly, staring at the signal the display was projecting.
Dak blinked glowing eyes at her. They certainly couldn’t decipher what was being projected on the main monitor. They didn’t understand the significance of the Crimson Wastes’ signal being different from the others.
“That’s not the same signal I picked up from the Fright Zone.” She said, not speaking to Dak in particular, but informing the air around them. “I need to get Adora! She’s better at reading First Ones than I am.”
Entrapta dashed from the room, leaving Dak to wonder what was going on and hope that they were not somehow being an annoyance to Mother.
Without air vents, Entrapta had to run through the halls and corridors like a normal frantic person. She found Adora sitting with Sea Hawk, as the latter was telling King Micah the story of when he first met Glimmer.
“…so then she just looks me dead-ass in the eyes and says ‘set your ship on fire’.” He was saying. “That was the moment I knew I belonged in the Princess Alliance.”
Sea Hawk paused, expecting Micah to laugh at that part. But the old man just looked confused. Like he didn’t quite understand what was supposed to be so funny. Like there was a generational gap that just couldn’t be crossed.
Entrapta interrupted them.
“I need Adora!” She announced, wrapping her hair around the younger woman and pulling her off her seat.
She carried Adora back to the command room, the rest of the group following after them. Equal parts confused and concerned. Scorpia caught up with them along the way and joined the entourage.
Dak had no moved from when their mother left. They didn’t want to risk pressing a wrong button or messing something up.
Entrapta dragged Adora to the center of the room and pointed to the central screen. “What is that?”
It took the other woman a moment or two for her brain to catch up with what Entrapta was asking. Dak realized very early on that while Adora was one kind of smart, that did not actually make her intelligent. On some things, she could be a little slow.
Finally, “That’s a distress call.” She gasped, leaning forward. “And it’s coming from Mara’s ship in the Crimson Wastes!”
“Mara’s ship!” Bow joined the group just a little bit after Scorpia had. “Is someone attacking Mara’s ship!?”
“I donno.” Adora admitted. “But we have to go. Mara was the last She-Ra before me. We can’t let her ship fall into enemy hands!”
“A First Ones’ ship?” Entrapta’s mind at first jumped to a water craft, or perhaps a floating land ship like one of the skiffs the Horde utilized. Those were the only kinds of ‘ships’ on Etheria. But then she remembered when Hordak was telling her of his turbulent origins, he mentioned ‘…with only his broken ship…’ and he was from another dimension where his people possessed technology that allowed them to travel between worlds. First Ones technology was so advanced, they must possess the same ability. The First Ones ship was a ship that had traveled to Etheria from another world –from Eternia! Entrapta had to see it! “Take me with you!”
Bow and Adora exchanged a look.
“I donno…” Adora had her misgivings.
“She might be able to help me fix the parts of Mara’s message that were damaged in the crash.” Bow pointed out.
Adora did want to know Mara’s full message. “Okay, Sea Hawk can get us back to the mainland, I imagine Micah will want to head back to Brightmoon, he can drop Dak off at Dryl on the way. We’ll take Entrapta and make our way to the Crimson Wastes.”
“Not going back to Dryl!” Dak protested this plan. They had only just met their mother, she was only just starting to give them attention. They did not want to be separated from her again. Dak glanced at Entrapta. “I want to see the First Ones ship too.”
“But it’s dangerous!” Scorpia protested. It really felt like she was the only person on the planet concerned for the child’s safety.
“Oh, Dak can take care of themself.” Adora assured her. The hybrid might be young, inexperienced, and naïve. But if they could move through the vents and ducts of the Crypto Castle, climb the outers walls, leap onto flag poles, bash flying deamon androids in the head, and leap-tackle warrior trained Jungle Tribe hunters, then they could handle themselves if things turned south in the Crimson Wastes.
Micah opened his mouth to agree with Scorpia. The Crimson Wastes were no place for a child.
But before he could say anything, the child in question cut him off. “I’m not going back to Dryl.” They repeated. “Not until Mother wants to go back. I’m going to see the First Ones ship with Mother, and you can’t stop me.” A pause. “Imp will help!”
Still perched on the hybrid’s head, the deamon gave a squawk of disagreement. He would not be helping master’s heir get themselves killed. What was it with these Horde clones and self-destructive decision making? First Hode, then Hordak, now Hordak Second of Their Name. It was almost like the drive to satisfy their wants was stronger than their drive to remain alive.
There was a beat.
Then Bow let out a sound half-way between a sigh and groan. “I mean… if they would beak two intruders out of their own dungeon and bludgeon original-Hordak’s flying minion, fly across the Growling Sea, and break into a Horde prison… why would we expect them to go back home where it safe for this?”
Dak smiled. They liked Bow. Bow just got it. Bow was probably Dak’s favorite adult thus far.
Imp chittered something rude under his breath.
As if the matter was settled, Dak grinned. “Are we ready to go?”
Hordak wasn’t working on the bridge consoles anymore. He wasn’t even trying to scrub and repair the former-She-Ra’s message.
He was shaping bits of metal and other scrap found around the ship into rangs, wing-shaped blades, pronged on one side, smooth on the other, like the wings on Horde banners, meant to be used as throwing weapons. Hordak was not a master of them. He preferred melee combat weapons like the force-pike or the quarter-staff. But they were his mentor’s favored weapon and Hode was a master of them. So Hordak had tried to become at least proficient with them back when he was still a Force Captain working under the late Lord.
He could not beat Catra in hand-to-hand fisticuffs. She was younger, more agile, and healthy. While he had become old for a clone, was slower than he used to be, and suffered failing health. In a straight up fight, Catra could beat him easily. Hordak needed weapons.
It only he’d had the wisdom –and discipline- to keep in practice with the throwing blades. It had been literal years since the last time he trained with them.
“Have you thought of a name yet?”
Zero-Zero-Three did not look away from practicing his katas with his force-pike when Red Hord entered the gymnasium. It was only a fool that allowed themselves to be distracted on the battlefield. There wasn’t a single hitch, or skip, or pause in his motions when he answered the Lord –the other Lord, he was a Lord too now, although it had not been made official yet. It would not become official until Horde Prime announced his elevation and his name.
They were making their way to Capital Core for Prime to make the announcement from Horde World, the center of the Empire. Zero-Zero-Three was a passenger aboard the Leather Vest, Lord Red Hord’s flagship.
“I have been considering several.” Zero-Zero-Three replied diplomatically. “I will never understand how you could have chosen your name so quickly in that moment.”
Red Hord walked the perimeter of the training circle. Watching Zero-Zero-Three’s movements and studying his technique. “Have you never thought of what kind of name you would choose before now?” He asked. “Did you not fantasize about rising to the cabinet from the moment you hatched from the tank?”
“I never thought I’d live long enough.” Admitted Zero-Zero-Three, feeling odd confessing to someone other than Hode. Hode knew about his defects. Hode understood. Red Hord did not know. Red Hord could not understand.
“Is that why you jumped to defend Hode when he didn’t want or need it?” Asked the other clone. “It was stupid, and if Hode had been literally any other Lord, he would have punished you severely. But you didn’t care, because you expected to die anyway.”
In that moment, at Horrin’s trial, Zero-Zero-Three had not even thought about dying. He had just wanted to protect his Lord. An older clone whom was the best superior officer Zero-Zero-Three had ever worked directly under. His own safety –never mind his life- didn’t even enter into his mind.
Completing the final kata in the set, Zero-Zero-Three paused.
He tried not to think about Hode too much. He was still angry at the older clone for demoting him and leaving him behind without explanation. Then the old man just had to go and die, so that not explanation could ever be given. Zero-Zero-Three resented him for that. But, hand in hand with that resentment was a strange and uncomfortable kind of regret. Hode had been the best superior he ever worked under and he died far away. Zero-Zero-Three wasn’t there with him when it happened. Zero-Zero-Three didn’t get to wish him farewell before the older clone went to join the All High Host.
Perhaps he paused too long, because Red Hord walked past the training circle and opened the weapons cabinet on the far wall. “Do you know any other weapons.”
“I am programed the same as all clones.” Zero-Zero-Three sounded almost insulted. “I know all the weapons the Horde uses.”
“But are you good at them?” Red Hord clarified.
Zero-Zero-Three paused to consider. “I’m good at the arm-mounted cannon, and throwing rangs.”
“Well, we won’t be firing arm-mounted cannons inside my ship.” Red Hord announced. “So, throwing rangs it’ll have to be. Let’s have a match.”
He pulled out a case full of twenty four standard issue, polished, and honed rangs.
It was standard contest rules. A few warm up rounds where all they had to do was stand still and throw at the practice targets. After the warmup, Red Hord hit the switch to run the training program. Moving targets now. Alternating gymnasium lights for distraction, panels opening in the walls to place objects in the way, or automated weapons that forced them to dodge or defend while still trying to make their shots. The program rising in difficulty and intensity as time went on.
“You know,” began Red Hord, never taking his eyes off the targets. His hands deftly plucked rang after rang off his belt, and flicked them at the targets with the skill of one who used the weapons often. “It’s not just your own name you’ll have to think of. You’ll also get to name your own capital ship.”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Zero-Zero-Three didn’t have to think about that. He already had something in mind for what he always thought would be a suitably intimidating and strong name for a capital ship. “Monstron, is what I’d name my flagship.”
Red Horde scoffed. Still not taking his attention off the training program they were running. “That does not follow the naming scheme for Imperial command flagships.”
All Imperial command flagships, that is, ships that belonged to the Emperor and his cabinet Lords, all followed the same naming scheme as the Velvet Glove. [Textile], [item]. The Velvet Glove, the Leather Vest, the Vinyl Hood, Lycra Pant, and Linen Cloak. So, Zero-Zero-Three had to come up with a name for his flagship as well as himself.
“Did Hode ever tell you why he named his ship the Vinyl Hood?” Asked Red Hord as he executed an unnecessarily complicated dodge and throw move, and still managed to hit the target.
Zero-Zero-Three did not want to admit that, no, Hode never did tell him why he named his flagship the Vinyl Hood.
“Something that’s hooded is hidden.” Explained Red Hord.
He said it so heavily, as if there was more meaning to the statement than just ‘hoods equal hide’. Zero-Zero-Three didn’t understand the significance and he fumbled a dodge in his confusion. A long pole folding out from the wall and catching him in the stomach. It knocked the wind out of him and he staggered backwards, determined to keep his feet under him. The last thing he wanted to do was collapse in front of one of the cabinet Lords –one of his fellow cabinet Lords, he was one of them now.
Shutting down the training program, Red Hord stared at him, studying. “Hode didn’t tell you anything.”
The words stung. Zero-Zero-Three liked to think he was special to the older clone. At least, Lord Hode seemed to invest unnecessary amounts of time in trying to educate him on culture. Poetry, fiction, sculpture, illustration, and music. But not in how he chose the name for his flagship. Or where he came up with his own name. ‘Hode’ was just ‘Horde’ with the R removed, right? At least, that’s what Zero-Zero-Three always thought. But now that he was learning that he didn’t actually know his Lord as well as he thought he did, Zero-Zero-Three was beginning to question that too.
The other Lord was still giving him a weird look. Zero-Zero-Three almost couldn’t decipher it. “You really don’t know about Hode.”
All this heavily weighted talk about the old clone with veiled significance that he didn’t understand was really starting to irritate Zero-Zero-Three. “Hode was a cabinet Lord, I was merely his Force Captain. He was not required to tell me anything.”
“Of course.” Nodded Red Hord. He was a cabinet Lord too, and was also equally not required to tell his subordinates anything. He circled the perimeter of the room, collecting the throwing rangs from the targets –and the walls just off from the targets, one of them needed to work on their aim. “You know, no one has seen Lord Hode’s deamon since he died. We’re all very interested to know what happened to it.”
Zero-Zero-Three frowned. “When Lord Hode demoted me to Territory Captain and then left me there, he still had his deamon with him.”
“I know.” Red Hord nodded, depositing the rangs back in their case and closing the weapons cabinet. “I wasn’t asking you where it was. Just mentioning that it was interesting that it was missing. Fascinating robots, the deamon-class android. Horde Prime meant them to be sort of administrative assistants for his cabinet. They had the same level of intelligence as a fully formed clone, but with much more memory storage, and the ability to record audio files. It would have made them perfect for relaying messages and communiques between the cabinet without danger of interception by enemy rebels. But all the cabinet used them for was to spy on and undermine each other.”
That must be why none of the other –current- cabinet Lords had deamons of their own. When Zero-Zero-Three was still newly hatched, he remembered another of the cabinet Lords besides Hode having a deamon. But when that Lord died, his deamon was decommissioned along with his flagship and never seen again.
Red Hord moved to exit the gymnasium. “Imagine what kinds of recordings and files Hode stored on his deamon.” He left. “Think of a decent name, and practice more with those rangs. Your aim is terrible.”
Everyone piled into the Dragon’s Daughter. Adora, Bow, Entrapta, Scorpia, Swift Wind, Imp, Micah, Dak, and of course, Sea Hawk. It was a little cramped on the deck, but not so much to prevent Sea Hawk from sailing it. There was some awkward squeezing between horse posterior and elongated scorpion tail, and uncomfortable bending and kneeling to tie off the main sail and make sure the boom didn’t swing around the bash anybody in the head.
But after they were out of the harbor and out on the water, things settled down.
There was an awkward moment where everyone was sort of staring at everyone. There really wasn’t much sitting room. Unless they didn’t mind sitting on the taffrail. But that ran the risk of them falling off the boat. Sea Hawk and Adora were the only ones brave enough. Feeling a bit claustrophobic, surrounded by so many people, Entrapta used her hair to lift herself up the mast, finding a more comfortable seat in the crows nest.
“So…” Bow began, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. “Usually, when we sail with Sea Hawk we have songs.”
“I’m not allowed to sing my song anymore.” Announced the sailor.
From out of nowhere, Bow produced his violin. “But we know more than one song, don’t we.”
With musical accompaniment, Scorpia reprised her song ‘Twiddle’.
“Saber had her lovers, they came in at every door,”You could even say that she was really quite a whore.”But when she needs some pleasing, she knows just where to go”I grab my good friend Madam Rouge and we go down below.”
After she finished the final chorus of her song, Micah, wanting to get in on the fun volunteered a song from when he was growing up in Mysticor.
“Sixteen books on magic spells, “Stacked below the cloak of elves.”And sixteen books on magic spells,”So elegantly bound.”And I know I could not say why,”On this summer evening.”
When Micah was done, however, the deck lapsed back into an awkward silence. No one really knowing what to say to anyone else. It wasn’t like all of them were friends. Scorpia and Imp were former Horde. Technically, Adora was too, but she was also a Hero of the Rebellion, same as Bow. Micah was an old Rebellion leader, but hadn’t been seen for twenty years. No one on the boat had ever actually met him before coming to Beast Island. No one really knew where Entrapta and Dak stood. Entrapta seemed to hop the lines as if she were playing jump rope, and Dak made it abundantly clear that they stood with their ‘mother’.
“Hey, Entrapta, you know any songs from Dryl?” Scorpia shouted up the mast at the older woman.
Lifting her welding mask, Entrapta looked down at them, almost confused. One would think no one had ever asked her what kinds of songs her country had before. “Well, there was one song my robot-parents used to sing for me…” She confessed. Tapping her chin with her hair, it look her a moment to recall the lyrics. Then she started snapping her fingers, the glove muting the sound slightly.
“Do, do, do, woah… Arrow of entro~opic time.
“Oh, arrow of entropic time.
“If you made a scrambled egg tonight,
“There’d be no return to yoke and white.
“And when it’s fried you, can’t go back to raw food.
“Structure decomposes ’til it’s gone.
“Hots spots cool and entropy grows on.
“My lab was cleaner, now looks like Mantisours been there.
“Not my fault, blame it on entropic time.”
She petered out as she realized that the others were not enjoying her song quite as much as they did the others. All except Dak. They appeared to be gazing up at her, hanging on every lyric. They, at least, appreciated a bouncy do-op song about science. Entrapta appreciated them just a little bit more.
Imp jumped up on Swift Wind’s back and screeched for everyone to pay attention to him now. He wasn’t just a highly advanced AI and audio file and data storage unit. He had music in him too! Hode made sure to save some song files to him.
“I am not a stage.” Swift Wind informed the flying germline. He might have bucked a bit to get the wined troll of himself. But he couldn’t do so without kicking someone else, they were so cramped on the deck of the ship. So, the horse ruffled his wings and resigned himself to being Imp’s sounding platform.
The deamon opened his mouth and began a recording he never thought he’d ever find a relevant moment to play.
“Are you recording?” Came a voice that sounded remarkably like Hordak’s but… not quite Hordak’s. There was a bit of feedback and a squawk that sounded a bit like Imp’s own voice answering the speaker. “Well, blink or something. I can never tell when you’re recoding. Anyway…”
There was the sound of a few strings being plucked experimentally. Then the plucking melted into an almost haunting melody. Then the voice that sounded like Hordak, but couldn’t possibly be Hordak began to sing.
“If we should lose the fight,”Light’s Hope burns ever brighter.”One hundred days and nights,”Engines, pistons form a choir.
“If blood should stain the skies,”As waxing stars re-ignite.”From Despondent dark they rise,”And strike a chord of steel and light.”
“Nobody wants to hear your crapping Horde songs!” Micah cut him off abruptly. He swatted at the little deamon, whom fell off the horse’s back.
Imp gave an indignant squawk. It wasn’t a Horde song. The Horde had no songs. It was a rebel song. From a rebel world. Taught to Hode by a rebel leader.
Clearing his throat, Sea Hawk drew everyone’s attention to him. “Land’s coming into view. I just wanna confirm, I’m just dropping you guys off close to the Crimson Wastes, and then Micah and I are continuing on the Brightmoon alone.”
Adora and Entrapta nodded.
As She-Ra, Adora could not let ship of the previous She-Ra fall into enemy hands.
While Entrapta was fascinated and excited to study a First One’s craft that could travel between worlds.
Bow, Dak, and Scorpia were tagging along with them for their own personal reasons.
Sea Hawk was going to make sure King Micah finally got home to his daughter.