Chapter Text
Deathsaurus loomed ominously at the far end of his throne room. His optics glowed underneath the shadow cast by his visor, making Hellbat's wings twitch with anticipation even as he held his helm high.
"Hellbat," Deathsaurus addressed, "As you know, the annual Autobot Masquerade will take place soon and Star Saber is expected to attend. His absence will undoubtedly leave their pathetic forces vulnerable. Despite this, I have plans for you that do not involve a direct attack on the base."
The warlord's voice rang across the chamber, calm and controlled yet authoritative as it bounced off the walls and made Hellbat force back a small quiver. Not out of fear, but of excitement, the thrill travelling down his net and filling him with a sense of mischief. Deathsaurus was entrusting him with a new mission! No one else!
"Even if Star Saber does not accept, the location alone is a goldmine of intelligence from attendees across various sectors. Security protocols, trade routes, energy allocation... All information that can be studied and exploited, given that it is gathered by a mech with the necessary tact and competence."
A chip was thrown from the dais, clinking against the floor. Hellbat scrambled to pick it up with a hushed "ooh!" He rose back to his pedes and twirled the chip curiously between his digits as he held it close to his face for inspection.
"We managed to intercept the invitation on its way to Star Saber and create a perfect replica in record time, complete with access clearance and guest credentials. You are to infiltrate the gathering using the coordinates given, as well as to bring along a suitable partner to serve as backup. Someone subtle, or at least presentable. Am I clear?"
"Yes, my lord! I already have someone in mind!"
Deathsaurus leaned back into his throne, his expression unreadable.
"Then I will leave you to plot. Listen and observe. Should any opportunity to gain the upper hand arise, you are to report it to me after you return so that we may exploit it to its full potential."
A pause hung in the air.
"Do not fail me, Hellbat."
Hellbat could already taste the rewards of his efforts. He’d be perched on the arm of Deathsaurus’ throne, leaning into the massive servo running down the back of his helm as claws soothingly sunk into seams and brushed his fins. And when that grew tiresome, the emperor would extend an arm, letting it rest over Hellbat's waist in brief teasing before pulling him close to murmur praise and gratitude into his audials. Words just barely loud enough for a seething, sulking Leozack to hear over the sensual purr of engines filling the room.
Though, maybe Leozack would grow to accept his new role under Hellbat's command, to appreciate Hellbat's genius strategy until rivalry was shoved aside in favor of something warm and delectable. How many mechs could truthfully brag about having had Leozack willingly submit to them? To have his hotheaded aft let his pride down for once to peacefully snooze in their arms after a close victory?
He resisted the urge to flutter his wings and sigh longingly at the thought.
"Understood, sir! I shall return with more than just gossip. I'll bring you leverage! I'll make you proud!"
Deathsaurus gave a nod before his optics dimmed, dismissing a very delighted Hellbat from the dreadful room. The spy didn't bat an eye at the way Leozack glared at him with unguarded intrigue (though, he did consider flashing a cheeky, promising wink) as he skipped and spun out the doors and through the halls, his off-tune humming nauseatingly cheerful.
He'd secure himself as Deathsaurus' favorite and most competent, adorable soldier in no time!
In the Autobots' communications room, Braver stood in front of the screen, explaining something unintelligible to Blacker with unmatched excitement as his digits rapidly swept back and forth across various buttons and switches. When mechanical beeps and hums of the complex machinery gave way to the sound of approaching footsteps and a door sliding open, the pair looked up from the console. Holi's heels screeched and skidded against the metal underneath horribly as he and Jan turned sharply and rushed in behind Saber.
"Hello Braver, Blacker. Jan and Holi tell me there's good news?"
Braver nodded and scrambled to find a tab on the screen. Jan quickly zipped over to the computer on his hoverboard, whispering an eager little "hurry!" as a window popped up in preparation to open a file. But before Braver could even begin to explain, Jan found himself unable to contain his excitement for even a second longer.
"It's an invitation to an annual Autobot masquerade with your name on it!" He exclaimed, "You've even got a bonus plus-one invitation! Can I please help with your costume?"
Indeed, the window soon bloomed into an elegant arrangement of gold text and graphics on black. Saber skimmed the file for dates and coordinates, RSVP details, dress code, unable to shake his disbelief no matter how many times he read the glittery digital flyer over. When his eyes landed on his faction's insignia in the bottom right corner, he spoke again.
"This is... quite the invitation," Saber paused for a moment, letting out a tense "however," as he took in the interested gazes of his son and allies before continuing, "with how relentless Deathsaurus's forces have been, I fear it may be unsafe to leave you all without my support."
"What, are you our babysitter, now?" Blacker replied in mock offense, "You think we can't hold our own for one day? Why do you think I'm here?"
It's not as if Saber didn't trust his soldiers. Had it not been for them proving their competence time and time again, they would not be under his command at all. But the idea of leaving them to pull his weight while he lounged aboard some gaudy ship in frills and glittery paint made him uneasy. What if Deathsaurus decided to stage an ambush in his absence? His presence could be the only thing standing between a smooth defense of the Earth and countless fatal injuries to the planet's inhabitants and his subordinates. (it often was.)
"Come on," Jan protested, "You don't seriously plan on missing it, do you, papa? It's the same as those meetings you always attend, except you get to have fun for once."
If anything happened to Jan, Star Saber would stop at nothing to bathe the walls with the blood of every one of Deathsaurus' soldiers. Righteousness would rise over treachery and his blade would be its vessel. They were blights on this Earth and the universe as a whole, and he'd make sure they're remembered as the stains they are.
But as he stood strong and proud over evil, allowing the carnage to settle down, the weight of his negligence would eventually crush him. Imagined victories grew hollow, the catharsis of Decepticons quivering under his pedes fleeting and soon to be replaced with the overwhelming stench of energon. He couldn't stomach the thought of hallways suddenly growing too wide, too quiet and barren without Jan's presence, one that would still be gracing Saber's existence had he chosen to stay behind that day to watch over and tuck him in.
"If nothing else," Braver chimed in, "there's much to be gained from connecting face-to-face with other Autobots across the sector, even for a lighthearted event like this."
"They'd love to hear about what we've been up to on Earth straight from you, sir!" Holi agreed, "We promise, if anything happens while you're gone, we'll alert you immediately."
What example was Saber setting if he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off his crew for even a second? They were a skilled team and patronizing them by rudely declining the invitation would surely reflect poorly. Saber gazed solemnly and considered his options. He was overthinking things. Regardless of whether he was present or not, no enemy would waltz into a base crawling with Autobot soldiers and walk out alive. Justice would always win out in the end, just as it had during the quelling of Deathsaurus' previous energy harvesting activities. (Wasn't it almost entirely thanks to his efforts?)
"Very well." With a heavy ex-vent, Saber looked away from the screen. "I will entrust Blacker with further commands in my absence. I will reach out to my selected companion for the event shortly."
He then kneeled down to where Jan sat on the edge of the console and gave his hair an affectionate stroke with a single digit. He smiled warmly at the boy.
"You’ll behave and listen while I’m away, won’t you?"
Jan beamed and reached up to give Saber's digit a tight hug.
"Yeah! I’ll keep the whole base in line, promise!"
When Tiguard was alerted that she was to accompany Hellbat on a new mission from Deathsaurus, she wasn't exactly sure what she expected. She was a deft warrior of might and fortitude. A far cry from the cunning and scheming that Hellbat depended on to succeed.
The swordsman followed Hellbat down a hall and was immediately thrown off by what she saw. What was once a sterile room used for strategic meetings among her comrades had been seemingly transformed overnight. Sequins and rhinestones littered the floors and table. Every direction Tiguard looked, a new color and texture of fabric revealed itself, as well as a hastily drawn sketch of an outfit, each bearing little resemblance to the previous one. Before she could get too dizzy, however, Hellbat grabbed her by the pauldron and redirected her attention to the massive screen installed into the wall. Some of the glitter from his fingertips clung to Tiguard's armor.
"So, here’s what I’m thinking for our disguises," Hellbat nearly vibrated with excitement as he spoke, punctuated with a vivid red flash of his optics. "Up first is Lady Dawn Wing, an Autobot princess from a distant colony of unparalleled beauty and mystique."
With the press of a console button, the screen flickered on and revealed a slowly spinning model of a mechanical mannequin. It was pitch black in its entirety except for the accessories it donned.
Had the mech been given any identifying features to its helm, they would have been cleverly obscured by the escoffion covering it. A white silk veil cascaded from its pearl-embellished horns, draping over the mech's neck and pauldrons. Two sashes of the same iridescent material crossed over one another on the mech's upper torso, perfect for concealing a distinctive breast animal underneath while appearing ceremonial in function.
Long plating settled over its hips, the metal thin and segmented like petals so as to not inhibit the mech's mobility as it rippled outward in layers. Simulated light shone on the surface of the skirt, revealing pink and gold gradience coated with a star-like sheen that twinkled as the model spun. As the two colors melted into one another like a soft sunrise, the platinum trim took on a much bolder appearance. They decorated the edges of the skirt, elegant swirls framed between twin tracings running along the length of each plate. Similar padding ornamented the mech’s shoulders, forearms, and the sides of its shins.
"Bots from every corner of the galaxy flock to her kingdom in hopes of meeting this reclusive princess. To win her over with breathtaking displays of strength, skill, and intelligence!"
Tiguard blinked, crossing her arms in discomfort, unimpressed. But before she could interject, Hellbat gave a dismissive wave of his arm and continued as a new digital mannequin appeared on the screen.
"And by her side, at her every beck and call, is Sir Silver Mane! A mysterious, yet chivalrous knight who steals the hearts of all who dare lay their eyes on him!”
Ornate pauldrons rested on each shoulder, melted down blues and purples fenced in by silver as they extended and swooped down away from the arms. Plating of the same design material settled on the sides of the mech's thighs and forearms, the filigree mimicking the patterns found on Dawn Wing's armor. A heavy black cape descended from the plating, the fabric pulled together over the figure's chest with a matching gemstone clasp. As the model rotated, light caught on the cape, revealing a shimmering blue layer of lining.
False talons garnished each digit, parted where joints met casing and linked through thin, decorative chains leading back to the top of the palm. More chains extended from the centerpiece of the gloves and looped around the mech's wrists, secured in place yet breathable so as to not inhibit articulation.
"But, their sparks are left yearning... for his love and loyalty belong solely to his lady."
Hellbat turned back around to face his ally, optics still glimmering with pride, and... something else Tiguard dared not put a digit on.
"I know, I know. I’ve really outdone myself with this plan, haven’t I? But I’d like to hear it from you directly, Tiguard. Praise me!"
"Uh— Hellbat, I—" Tiguard stammered, dumbstruck, "I don’t think even the finest paint and all the accessories in the world could turn me into… Lady Dawn Wing."
Tiguard gestured to herself with tense servos.
"I don’t exactly radiate princess-like charm in any way. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb."
Hellbat smirked, the expression almost imperceptible under his mask.
"Oh, my prince, you misunderstand."
Hellbat pressed another button and the silhouette unveiled itself. Underneath the cloth and plating was a figure that mirrored Tiguard's exact build. Tall, imposing, unmistakably her to anyone who cared enough to observe. But this version gleamed with a polished silver finish, so luminous it almost sparkled.
The familiar dark stripes that usually slashed across her armor were reimagined– more delicate, more stylized. They split and curled into branching patterns that looked less like the proud markings of a warrior and more like obsidian filigree.
However, what truly drew the eye were the gems. They were small, pulsing yellow stones attached to the design's frame, perfectly in tune with the mech's biolights. Each was placed with near-obsessive precision, tracing the armor's lines like stars stitched into steel. Tiguard was left stunned in disbelief as she admired the thoroughness of Hellbat's design.
"I'll be the belle of the ball, gliding through the dance floor and adored! No one would ever suspect a spy of my caliber to be hiding behind such delicate grace, fluttering my way into those suckers' sparks! And you–"
Hellbat clasped his servos together dreamily and stared at Tiguard with just enough sincerity to leave the swordsman apprehensive.
"– you, my brooding, handsome knight, will stand silently at my side, drawing gazes and whispers and swooning sighs wherever we go. The perfect cover."
"You want me to be the eye-candy distraction."
"I want you to be irresistibly radiant, dear Tiggy. Just be tall, mysterious, and tragically unattainable while you watch my back. Not like you really even have to try."
"This is completely ridiculous," Tiguard said, pressing her helm to her palm as she failed to hold back an amused twitch of her lips. Hellbat noticed and let out a gleeful little cackle.
"This is espionage. Now, get over here and help me with my paint," Hellbat ordered, tugging Tiguard close enough to let their plating brush as he dragged her over to a table, "I can't wait to become a living embodiment of the Earth's sunrise."
Even with the surprisingly kind smile from the imposing guard greeting him at the entrance, Star Saber felt out of place. Braver's comforting idea that this would be a night of meaningful political discussion already felt naively optimistic in hindsight. He'd hoped for diplomacy. He'd prepared for it. But here, amidst the soft lights and faceless elegance, he was left unsure.
The crimson visor he swapped out over his usual, practical choice felt as stiff as the mask covering his intake. He especially couldn't stand the flimsy feathers attached to the sides, reaching out to obscure his helm from the front. And, apparently, the corners of his vision, as well.
Black and indigo smothered his frame. Even its expert application did little to help the way it itched over his heroic reds and blues. The cape over his shoulders looked lovely when complimented with a twirl, but the grace felt borrowed, not earned. Every time it brushed against his legs, it reminded him how not to trip over it. Where the heavy plating of his battle armor felt safe and secure, the light, decorative padding shifted too easily with each step and left him feeling exposed.
Laster was no more nor less dolled up than himself. His plus one had boldly chosen to keep his primary black coat. Except now, it shimmered into a vast spectrum of prismatic color as light shone on him. Similarly, his limbs were given a lustrous gold finish, which matched the inner lining of his cape. Unlike Saber's, it only fell over one shoulder. But what Saber admired above all else about him was the way he held his chin, envying the lack of nervousness radiating from his field. As he stood cautiously next to his partner, Saber only hoped he carried as much grace in his step in the hidden eyes of the other guests.
Another guard introduced herself before guiding the pair through the dizzying, maze-like stairs and halls until they reached the ballroom. Music and the amused chatter of mechs drifted into Saber's audials. Where the domed skylight above came to a point, the centerpiece chandelier hung down and shone warmly among the twinkling stars outside. Guests seeking a break from the dancing gathered on the balcony built into the alcove under the ceiling. For a moment, Saber considered the possibility of retreating there as the night carried on and seeking solidarity with those who shared his plight.
But Laster's confident step forward knocked him out of it. Saber was overthinking things. Being polite and letting his thoughts drift from his responsibilities for one night shouldn't be a difficult task. The base was in good hands and so was his darling son, likely done with his homework for the night and getting ready for bed by now. He let the sounds of the ballroom course through his net, taking a moment to control his vents. Saber was going to enjoy himself.
. . .
Someone was staring at him.
Saber whipped around to look. But whoever it was had already vanished into the crowd, leaving an ephemeral flutter of silk in their absence.
"Laster, did you-"
The spot next to him, previously occupied by his partner, was left vacant. Saber stared in disbelief. Since when is Laster this eager to jump in and socialize at the drop of a hat (or the flip of a veil)? He had hoped he could start the night with a dance alongside his partner to help alleviate his nerves. But as unfamiliar mechs approached him with curiosity and adoration in their tones, he knew he had to hit the ground running. Saber's servo soon met another and he was guided into motion. Movements unpracticed, yet carrying just enough grace to not trample the other's pedes. Praise after praise left the stranger's vocalizer, admiring everything from his paint to his cape to his mask. A habit that would continue to follow and overwhelm him even as he switched partners.
Tiguard found that, for once, the bare minimum of entertaining their stiff small talk was greeted with intrigue. In an event where guests valued personas and false identities, her curt responses thrived, earning the mysterious Sir Silver Mane quite the number of Autobot admirers by the time each dance came to an end and started anew.
The swordsman didn't relish the attention she garnered. As long as Tiguard kept an eye on Hellbat, the dreamy gazes of her own dance partners went unnoticed. Lady Dawn Wing had proven to be quite the star among guests, worming her way into their sparks with the smooth talking Tiguard had come to expect. Though, this time laced with murmured flirtation that made Tiguard cringe when she caught it. Some mechs were more committed to their personas, while others were more easily swayed by the faux princess' charm. They ate up lies about her fictitious homeworld while letting their own truths slip. Tiguard felt like she was going to lose her mind if she heard one more mention of royal lineage.
"My colony has an abundance of resources to be converted into energy," Dawn Wing explained, "I'd be happy to offer a hand in your usual exchange routes."
Tiguard could only assume the Autobot was smiling like an idiot, thoroughly buttered up by Hellbat's words.
"Your generosity is truly admirable, miss. Are these coordinates acceptable?"
Acceptable was putting it lightly as the giddiness from Hellbat's field clogged her sensors. With an empty promise to discuss further over high grade sometime soon, Dawn Wing bestowed a series of false comm signatures and the two split off to exchange partners. Tiguard wrapped up her own dance, leaving an empty spot in her sturdy arms for her princess to twirl into and pollute with her presence.
"What a dreamy stare," Hellbat hummed, "All those poor, lovesick mechs swooning over you, and I'm the one you can't keep your optics off of? My spark is racing."
"I'm making sure you don't get carried away with all the attention you're drawing," Tiguard said, murmuring under the sound of her vents so as to not be overheard, "Not that I doubt your... competence, but-"
"-but, you're worried about me and would cry for days on end if you let me get hurt. I understand. Your secret's safe with me!"
Tiguard sighed and rolled her optics. She was just doing her job.
"Such a diligent knight," He cooed, "You really know how to make a princess feel safe. Maybe I should dress like this more often if it means you'll dote over me properly."
"Don't push it, Hellbat."
"Fine, fine, you devastatingly handsome bore," Hellbat said with an exaggerated whine before finally dropping his playful attitude, "I need to show you something."
Hellbat's voice was low and he leaned in close. He grinned under his mask as he squeezed her gloved servo and guided her past the flock, peeking through the gaps to look at his target. Star Saber. Alone, but only briefly until another mech would eventually demand his attention.
"The Autobot Supreme Commander is without his plus one to watch his back. Looks like that invitation wasn't for nothing after all... even if that costume of his barely counts as a disguise. Eugh. Was he even trying?"
He looked back up at her and continued.
"I've been pretty lucky with these Autobot suckers so far. But if anyone's going to figure me out, it'll be him. Not that he will, but it never hurts to be safe. Keep him distracted while we steal the night... but mostly their secrets."
Two servos crept up the sides of her arms.
"Why don't you offer him some company?"
Tiguard didn't get the chance to respond before the force of his palms met her pauldrons and pushed. Hard. And it left her stunned. One moment, her attention was on the crowd, mingling and dancing to their sparks' content as their vibrant frames and voices blurred together uncomfortably. The next, she was wobbling on her pedes, less than a second away from crashing into the floor beneath and making a fool of herself. As quickly as she processed what Hellbat had done, Tiguard already set her mind on a quick recovery. Reflex, not thought, put her knee to the floor and settled her into a kneel as she regained her balance.
When Tiguard looked back over her shoulder, Hellbat had already disappeared once again, sparing him from her death glare. She was instead met with the faceless stares of mechs she didn't recognize, undoubtedly shocked by her unflattering display. The gentle music felt deafening among their scrutinizing whispers.
Tiguard bit back a grumble and swore to strangle the spy the next time she saw him. She lifted her chin, locked her gaze with Saber's, and shakily held out her servo to the concerned Autobot. An exasperated huff of air left her vents.
"Sir," she gasped out, "Would you honor me with a dance?"