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Flame Nova checked his internal clock. To let his schedule slip now would be a disastrous blow to the image he had meticulously crafted as the host of the evening. The event served as the primary morale-booster for the Star Guardian's, marking another year of operational success. The guest list was a map of Machina's elite, from high-ranking fellow officers to the contractors who kept the program's gears turning. While Flame Nova enjoyed the prestige that came with the spotlight, these events were often an exercise in patience. As the primary coordinator, the burden of every decision, from managing energy allocation to selecting the venue, sat squarely on his shoulders. Even with a fleet of assistants to help lessen the work, the final command was always his, big or small.
He felt a brief surge of irritation as he scanned the guest list once more. He had no issues with his fellow guardians; they were brothers-in-arms who shared a single vision, no matter where they they came from or the personalities they possessed. His frustration was reserved for the external contractors. These individuals were on their payroll but held no oath, indulging in the luxuries of the Star Guardians without the discipline. Few deserved such comfort.
Captain Gigantrex, however, was a different story.
Time and time again, they were like two ships passing in the night, as if fate wanted them close but never to meet. Despite having attended the same events prior, Captain Gigantrex's attention was notoriously difficult to capture, usually anchored to his two star pupils, Cielo and Musclehyde. While he can truly only speculate on why Captain Gigantrex had chosen them, he had often theorized that his devotion was a tribute to his late mentor. She was once-in-a-million cardbot. Her successor was just the same.
As the live band began its first set, Flame Nova checked over himself once more, and stepped into the role of the vibrant, gracious host. On a night like this, the press was looking for any crack in his armor, and he had no intention of giving them one.
The evening air within the skyscraper's pinnacle was thick with the hum of conversation and the clinking of fine crystals. As the doors opened, a steady stream of the elite flowed into the ballroom, their frames reflecting the opulence of the surroundings. Flame Nova moved through the throng with a practiced ease. Each guest was greeted individually, addressed by Flame Nova with the proper respect given their command. The venue was a soaring marvel of glass and steel, and while the rental costs had been astronomical, he considered it was necessary expenditure. To him, the morale of his subordinates and the prestige of the Star Guardians were commodities that demanded the highest level of investment.
Suspended from the vaulted ceiling was the crown jewel of the evening, Flame Nova's prided chandelier. It was a sculpture of refracted prisms that sent swirling ribbons of amber and violet light dancing across every surface. Flame Nova had commissioned it himself, dipping into his personal account to satisfy his penchant for fine art. He watched a smug, quiet satisfaction as guests paused in the foyer, their gazes widening as they tracked the celestial patterns of the light. Whenever someone dared to ask, he was more than happy to graciously provide the contact information of the artist.
The night unfolded in a series of meticulously planned programs. The first had been an ambient acoustic welcoming, to lull the crowd into a state of receptive ease.
The second program, which he began once two-thirds of the guest had arrived, was Flame Nova's address. A practiced speech about the night, how he hopes to kindle more bright relationships in the future, and to personally congratulate those who had risen in the ranks of the Star Guardian group the pass year.
The third program followed with seamless efficiency. A phalanx of butlers and maids, servants he had personally spent hours learning alongside, emerged from the service rooms. They moved with an impressive grace, weaving between the guests to deliver refined, high-grade energy. Flame Nova felt a surge of pride as he watched them moved with a buoyant energy that suggested they found as much joy in the perfection of the service as the guests did in consumption.
The evening shifted to the fourth program; dancing. The live band shifted their tempo, elevating the energy with the sweeping cadence of a simple waltz. The high-ranking officials of the Star Guardians led the charge, spinning across the marble floor, while leaning in to whisper celebrator praises to one another. Flame Nova beamed as the compliments began to pile up. Another year, another flawless execution.
When the dance floor opened to the general guests, Flame Nova did not retreat. He remained in the thick of it, a tireless host allowing himself to be led through one waltz after another. He moved with a practiced fluidity, navigating the sea of partners who sought a moment of his undivided attention. Many flirted, some subtly, others with brazen intent, but he parried every advance with a polite denial that left their dignities intact while maintaining his own profession distance, and the cycle repeated.
However, as he finally managed to navigate his way to the edge of the floor, the physical toll of the night began to register. His internal UI flickered with a yellow warning. His fuel levels had plummeted far lower than he had realized during the height of the festivities. Subconsciously, he locked onto a refreshment station. He reached for a small gallon of high-octane gasoline, his fingers closing around the cup at the exact same moment another hand met the same handle.
"Ah, apologizes! Please, take the gallon for yourself." Flame Nova began, his voice a smooth, practiced tone of hospitality. He began to withdraw his hand, already pivoting to another glass, until his optics fully processed the guest standing before him.
He tried his best not to still at the fact Captain Gigantrex was looking at him. Standing there, bathed in the swirling light of the chandelier.
"No, I apologize, please Captain Flame Nova, you take it." Captain Gigantrex said with a firm nod, his voice a deep, resonant hum to him.
"Please-"
Captain Gigantrex didn't wait for protest. He lifted the cup and placed it firmly into Flame Nova's hand, his grip steady and undeniable. "I insist."
"Well, I must thank you then." Flame Nova responded, feeling a rare moment of being genuinely dumbfounded. He quickly signaled a nearby butler, who glided over to provided the acclaimed pilot with a fresh pour of high-grade fuel. "I am in your debt."
"Quite an opulent party, Captain Flame Nova." Captain Gigantrex remarked, his gaze scanning the grandeur of the skyscraper. "However do you manage such affairs constantly?"
"I am fortunate to have assistants who understand my standards," Flame Nova took a subtle moment to look for the students of Captain Gigantrex, finding them suspiciously absent. "Where are your teal and blue proteges?"
A flicker of disappointment, "They did not wish to attend at the moment. Navigator Cielo is recovering from a dented wing and Pilot Musclehyde requested to stay back to comfort her."
Flame Nova nodded, the news of the southern storm accident having already circulated through his information networks. Everyone had heard how Navigator Cielo had suffered an accident from its sudden arrival. "I send my sincerest well-wishes then. May her recovery be smooth, and her systems return to peak performance." He kept his tone cool and professional, though a strange, unbidden part of him wished he could shed the mask of host and simply talk to the Captain as a peer.
However, the social gravity of the room was beginning to pull. He noticed the subtle shifts in the crowd. The way the reporters' were zooming in their exchange, the way other officials were lingering nearby, waiting for a gap in the conversation. A host could not remain anchored to a single guest for too long.
"Please, I have kept you long enough," Flame Nova said, with a graceful bow, "Enjoy the party at your leisure, Captain." Gigantrex only nodded at him, understanding the chains of duty that bound a host to his guests. Flame Nova turned on his heel, gold plating flashing as he plunged back into the vibrant, swirling energy of the ballroom.
Hours passed of the same song and dance. He entertained, he chatted, and he waltzed until his frame ached. When reporters approached, he fed them morsels of information with precision, details that were just enough to satisfy their hungry, yet engineered to deflect attention away from himself. They fell for the bait every time, scurrying away to file their exclusive reports.
High above, the smog of the city thinned enough for the stars of Machina Planet to begin to twinkle. Flame Nova could only steal brief, longing glances at the sky before the next official or contractor pulled him back into the social sway.
Every guest had arrived; the room was at maximum capacity. Despite the mounting stress, a quiet sense of triumph swelled with in. The fruits of his labors were being appreciated. The frantic energy of the night begin to settle into a peaceful, intimate hum as the live band transitioned in their slow tunes, the swirling lights of chandelier dimming to a deep purple.
For Flame Nova, this was the home stretch.
He had suppressed the mounting fatigue in his joints through sheer force of will. His steeled his nerves, visualizing the sanctuary of his penthouse: the quiet skyline, his favorite network shows, and a galloon of crude, unfiltered gasoline that didn't require polite conversation to consume.
With purposeful, measured strides, he began his approach to the stage for the final closing remarks. He reached the foot of his stairs, his foot hovering over the first step, when the world suddenly jerked.
A powerful grip caught his shoulder and yanked him backward with such force that an undignified squawk escaped his vocalizer. He was spun around in a blur of gold and black, his initial flash of fury evaporating the moment his optics locked on the perpetrator.
"Captain Gigantrex, what in the name of-"
"Please - it's Gigantrex," the pilot interrupted, his voice thick and resonant. "Captain Flame Nova, not once this entire evening have you loosened up."
Flame Nova blinked, his processors lagging. "What?"
The ballroom fell into a sudden, expectant silence. The spotlight sat vacant on the stage, a circle of judgment, while the two captains stood locked in an awkward stalemate at the stairs. Flame Nova tried to offer a placating laugh for the benefit of the staring guests, attempting to pry his hand from the other bot's iron grip.
"Captain Gigantrex, I was not aware you had such a low drinking tolerance-" He spoke loud enough for the audience to hear.
Captain Gigantrex didn't reply with words; he spun Flame Nova around again, sending him just short of a stumble, too put out and unsure of how to reel himself back in. "Dance with me!"
He could hear the crowd gasp at such a brazen display.
Captain Gigantrex only laughed, a deep, boisterous sound that rattled Flame Nova's chest. He could feel his cooling fans kick into high gear as his internal temperature spiking in sheer embarrassment. Before he could formulate a graceful exit, Gigantrex took his hand and marched him toward the center of the dance floor. "Just dance with me, Flame Nova," he whispered.
To his utter contempt, his colleagues and subordinates did not move to intervene. Instead they watched with rapt fascination. Despite how he made no motion to free himself.
"Kind band!" Gigantrex roared toward the stage, "Please give us something upbeat! Something bright like our dear Star Guardian!" Flame Nova was plain embarrassed. However he wasn't opposed to the change of scenery.
The band complied instantly, the tempo soaring into a vibrant, high-energy rhythm. Suddenly, Flame Nova was no longer the host; he was a passenger in a clumsy waltz. Camera lights strobed around them, capturing every careless movement.
"Flame Nova, how much have you done for the inhabitants of Machina planet?" Gigantrex asked loudly. The crowd, caught in the Captain's infectious energy, shouting back their praises. "How many nights have you spent watching and guarding?" The roar of the guests was deafening.
Gigantrex suddenly dipped him, leaning in low, and whispering, "For such a guiding light, for being my savior, how can you act so distant?"
"Captain-"
"It's Gigantrex."
"Gigantrex!" Flame Nova seethed out, gaze flickering with heat. "Behave yourself- This flattery, please this is all too much- you needn't do this-" he said trying to control the situation more.
"How can I behave?" He purred, his voice vibrating against the metal of Flame Nova's neck as he leaned in close, just short of cuddling into the crook of his neck. "There is a light in my hands I am not willing to let go."
He resorted to a sharp, polite smack against the Captain's arm.
"We are being watched! Behave, will you!" He hissed. But his plea was met only by more boisterous laughter as the music swept them along, the two locked in a dance that was rapidly becoming the only thing the city would talk about tomorrow.
"Then let's change the setting!"
Flame Nova didn't even have the time to register the shift before his feet left the floor. He gave a sharp yelp as the large pilot hoisted him with a raw power, one he had vastly underestimated, especially given Gigantrex's current state of heavy intoxication. He was carried effortlessly passed the gaping socialites, through a service corridor, and out into a pocket of quiet Flame Nova had somehow overlooked during his extensive walk-through of the skyscraper.
When Gigantrex finally set him down, Flame Nova realized they were on a secluded balcony. The air was thinner here, colder, and the city lights were far below, reduced to the sprawling board of neon.
"Stay with me." Gigantrex said, his voice low.
Flame Nova could only stare. "You know I can't do that," he managed, his voice tight. "There is the closing ceremony."
"Enjoy the peace with me." Gigantrex countered, gesturing vaguely upward, "Enjoy the stars."
Flame Nova looked up. The stars flickered with a cold, distant clarity, looking down on his plight with what felt like amusement. His internal cooling fans were still screaming on overdrive, the whirring noise loud and intrusive in the sudden stillness of the night.
"I have to get back to the party, Captain-"
"I told you, it's Gigantrex."
"Gigantrex," Flame Nova stressed out, the name feeling foreign on his vocalizer, "You are drunk off premium gasoline. We must return to the ballroom immediately and explain this erratic behavior before the rumors become unmanageable."
"I am perfectly fine," the pilot insisted, though he swayed slightly against the railing.
"You are not! You are behaving with zero foresight. This is starting to become cumbersome, and frankly, quite exhausting."
"Please." Gigantrex said, stepping closer until Flame Nova could feel the heat radiating off him. "Stay with me. What's done is done."
Flame Nova's processors stuttered. He didn't want to hear those words. He poured his heart into the night, sacrificing his own well-being to ensure he appeared untouchable. He needed to salvage the optics, he needed to-
"Stop overthinking it." Gigantrex interrupted, cutting through the frantic internal monologue. He reached out, his hand open and waiting. "Dance with me again."
He paused as he stared at the outstretched hand before him. For a moment, he was motionless, caught between his duty and a sudden, terrifying desire for quiet. Slowly, he reached out and took it.
This time, the waltz was different. There was no clumsy maneuvering, no playing for a crowd. Gigantrex led with a deliberate precision. They moved in a slow circle on the dark stone of the balcony, the only sound the faint hum of their internal systems. Flame Nova kept his gaze trained on the stars. For a brief moment, he dared to wonder what it would had been like if he spent his time seeking out a different path.
"You shine," Gigantrex whispered. He leaned his head closer, beginning to hum a melody that faded from popularity long ago. It was once Flame Nova's favorite.
He looked away, his cooling fans giving a faint, tell-tale whir of embarrassment. The moment was too tender, a breach of every professional boundary he had built. It was more intimate than anything he had every permitted himself to experience.
"You speak with such kindness." Gigantrex murmured, his thumb beginning to rub rhythmic grounding circles across the back plating of Flame Nova's hand. He intertwined their fingers, his grip firm yet careful. "Your voice guides many out of an all consuming darkness."
They danced in shared silence for a while. But the weight of the evening, and the fuel, was finally catching up to the veteran pilot. As the song reached its final notes, Gigantrex gave a weary shudder. He pitched forward, his frame collapsing into Flame Nova's waiting arms.
And that is how the host of the Star Guardian's gala became transportation. Flame Nova adjusted Gigantrex's dead weight onto his back, the Captain's arms draped over his shoulders in a heavy, uncoordinated slouch. He began to head toward the shared docking bay for all of the gala's guests.
"Just how much have you drank?" Flame Nova chided, gears straining under the load.
"More than I should tell an officer." Gigantrex rumbled, his voice slurred, but warm against the sensitive sensors at the back of Flame Nova's neck.
"I'm not going to arrest you," he sighed.
"Promise?"
Flame Nova hesitated. He reached up, his fingers brushing against the golden Star Guardian sigil magnetized to his chest. His hands lingered for a moment. With a sharp, reluctant click, he unfastened it. Instead of putting it away, Flame Nova reached back and pressed the sigil into Gigantrex's palm, leaving it there until the Captain's fingers sluggishly curled around it.
"Oh." Gigantrex breathed, admiring the gold-plated symbol in the overhead light, before his gaze fell admiring onto the other. He let out a soft, hazy chuckle that rattled Flame Nova's spine. "This suits you." Ever so imperceptibly, his grip around Flame Nova tightened.
Perhaps Flame Nova has had too much this night, though he knew that was impossible, for he said the most daring thing next. "Then maybe I should just stay with you."
"I wouldn't mind a co-captain."
"Careful," Flame Nova replied, his voice barely audible over the hum of his cooling fans, which he told himself were only activated due to the strain of carrying Gigantrex. "Maybe I really will stay. The Star Guardians will be on your tail until they have me back."
"Good thing I'm a pilot worth my title," Gigantrex murmured, his consciousness begging to slip; his face resting into the crook of Flame Nova's neck as it did.
"An ego is unbecoming."
"Like you … are above ego …"
The arrival to Gigantrex's ship was anything but graceful. Flame Nova leaned the Captain against the hull and hammered on the hatch. Inside, leisurely, muffled footsteps approached. In that time, Flame Nova realized just how missed he must be at the party. The address was due two hours ago. He wondered if any of his guests had bothered waiting.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming! Did you lose your key again, Captain or-" Cielo pulled the door open, freezing when she saw Flame Nova. She looked for a moment, her gaze darting between the Star Guardian superior and her, very drunk, very unconscious, Captain. "Oh."
She slammed the door shut, close enough for Flame Nova to feel the wind on his face.
From inside, he heard her frantic shouting. "Musclehyde! Get out here! There's a Star Guardian at our door!" He noted that the ship's engineering apparently lacked any semblance of sound-proofing. Cielo's voice continued, rising in panic, "If the Captain did something, I-"
There was a quick shush, as the door hissed open again. Musclehyde stood there, looking as if he had just awoke, yet he was infinitely more composed than wide-eyed Cielo hovering behind him.
"Good evening?" He asked quizzically, leaning out of the door to peer at Gigantrex. "Is everything alright?"
"He's blackout drunk. I came to see him home."
"Ah, Captain," Musclehyde muttered, a weary fondness touching his voice. "We both told him-" He shook his head, remembering his audience. "Thank you, Captain Flame Nova."
"Well. Help me get him to the bed."
"Oh, I can do it myself-" Musclehyde began, "You don't need to trouble yourself. I'm sure you're very busy-"
"I insist. I owe him a debt."
"Then you have my gratitude." The two of them hauled the commander through the corridors, with Cielo watching their movements in the background. They rested him onto his bed, and Musclehyde immediately turned. "I'm going to get him some medicine." He announced, "He's going to have an awful hangover in the morning."
Left alone, Flame Nova wondered why he hadn't left the moment the Captain was in his bed. He wasn't sure why he was lingering. He had to return to the party, to whatever reputation he had left that wasn't tarnished by this night. Just when he nearly turned to leave, a hand shot out and clamped onto Flame Nova's wrist.
Gigantrex was conscious again, it seemed, his gaze trained onto Flame Nova. "Stay." he rasped, pulling Flame Nova down with a sudden strength until they were inches apart. "Join the skies with me. Truly." The invitation hung in the air, heavy and more intoxicating than the drinks had been. Flame Nova felt himself stall. How could he turn away from the one thing that defined him? Yet when his gaze found the longing look in the other bot's eyes, he felt like he could. He nearly spoke, but the sharp clack of Musclehyde's returning footsteps silenced him, and Flame Nova never knew what his answer would be.
He went cold. He gently but firmly pried his wrist from the Captain's grip, his gaze lingering on the others face for one aching second before he stood back up.
"Thank you, again. We were worried when he stopped responding, but we figured, well. He was having a good time." Musclehyde spoke as he re-entered the room. "We can take it from here."
Flame Nova turned to leave, but Musclehyde's voice caught him at the door.
"Its not often a Star Guardian goes out of their way for a freelance pilot," he noted."Especially one has high-profile as yourself. You could've had one of your employees take him back. Why did you carry him all this way yourself?"
Flame Nova paused, his back to the room. "Captain Gigantrex is a valuable asset. Allowing him to be vulnerable in such a state in public would've been a lapse in security."
Musclehyde tilted his head, and Flame Nova could nearly hear his processors whirring with thought. "Is that on the record?"
He turned slightly. "No."
"…Would you like to say something for the record?"
Flame Nova sighed deeply. "Have a good night, Pilot Musclehyde. And you." His gaze snapped to the corner where Cielo was unsuccessfully attempting to hide. "Well wishes to your recovery, Navigator Cielo."
"How did you-" Cielo began, but was cut off.
"-Oh wait. Is this yours?" Musclehyde gestured to Gigantrex's closed hand, where the edge of Flame Nova's golden sigil was just barely visible, tucked against the Captain's palm. "Don't you need that back?"
Flame Nova winced internally, a sharp pang of shame washing over him. "Yes. My gratitude," he said roughly, forcing the words out. He took the badge as Musclehyde dropped it into his hand, the magnet still carrying Gigantrex's warmth.
"Goodnight, Captain Flame Nova."
Flame Nova hated the knowing, quiet look behind the pilot's eyes. He didn't wait another second. He stepped out of the ship and into the evening. Now, to see what was left for him at the party.