Everything that had happened in my life up until then was orchestrated by someone because I was indecisive and chose to not act on my own. Stealth Saber and his team were killed because the Senate had decided it, and I was not able to decide for myself. Even freeing us from our fate was a thing marginally chosen by my brothers and the Decepticons we trusted. My missions and ops were decided from someone above. And Gigant's death was his own choice as he intentionally spurred my rage to end his life. Not one bit was chosen by me outright. I had decided from that day forth it would no longer be the case; I was done being a pawn. And my first independent choice was to betray the Decepticons, whether or not it led to my demise.
My original plan was to enlist the help of Smokejumper and Smokescreen, as well as their respective partners Dreadwind and Dreadwing. Unfortunately, that was not the result as before I reached their labs, I overheard the quad pair from outside the room. They were openly mocking myself and Gigant, calling us weak, foolish, and saying "They got what they deserved." I walked away my head tilted low, with only some disappointment. Deep down, I wasn't too terribly hurt. Our paths had diverged long ago, it was only now the results had shown themselves. My disappointment was from having hoped otherwise. I wasted no time accepting the facts and carried on with my personal mission.
Even though my mind was made up, I didn't immediately defect from the Decepticons. My efforts were directed to sabotaging their operations. Starting with a request to Megatron to oversee inspections of various command posts under the pretense I would not stray from the Decepticon way. He was pleased, yet obviously suspicious of my change of spark. Nonetheless I carried out my task with purpose. I would inspect the site and reported my findings back to Megatron so he could give them the direction he deemed necessary. Afterwards I did as instructed and moved onto the next post. But it was all a cover for my real objective.
The reason I requested the inspection duty was because of the unique encryption codes at each site designed to protect Decepticon transmissions from being intercepted. If I had a copy of each code, I could create a code breaker capable of decrypting Decepticon transmissions. The program would be invaluable to the Autobots for a time and the Cons would be forced to completely recreate their encryption program from the foundation up. And even then the code breaker would be useful for predicting future encryptions as Shockwave, Jumper, and Screen programmed with a unique style the breaker could identify. Smokejumper and Smokescreen may be highly intelligent and capable of many mental feats, but I had the hands on experience breaking through various programming types the field they did not.
Crafting the code breaker was complicated but doable and opened up the door to the next phase of my plan. But first I needed to find a way to get close enough to reach the Autobots. Originally I thought Megatron's next assignment was a hindrance until I noticed it was a blessing in disguise. He wanted a specific artifact housed within the the Iacon Archives and put me in charge of a five Con team to infiltrate and exfil with the artifact. I quickly made a plan and organized my team to head out. While Quarrel, Nightlock, Torrent, and Stonewall loaded up on the dropship, I was still divising on the complicated part of the plan. Eliminating my team.
The flight was uneventful to be accurate. Along the way, we discussed the simple plan: fly in with an unmarked ship with an Autobot IFF, dock at a port, use disguise modules to get close to the Archive, sneak in using an access hatch on the hull, grab what we needed, and exfil. It was simple and hard to botch if done right, but it wasn't my plan. As soon as we were in Iacon airspace, I sabotaged the mission at every turn. From getting the ship shot down outside the archives, forcing us to break in, and steadily getting each member killed except Nightlock. He had a special purpose I was going to take advantage of.
The only thing I was not prepared for was the presence of a notorious green and yellow Wrecker named Springer. He was well known among Decepticons as a warrior who excelled at controlled mayhem. Using Nightlock to distract him, I snuck past towards the vaults and handled the remaining security guards and defensive systems with relative ease. Deeper inside, I located the necessary vault and grabbed the desired artifact. On my way back, I knocked out Springer from behind with a restraining bolt and departed with Nightlock. On the way back he demanded to turn over the relic himself and take credit, stating "I will seem more credible than you who has a sketchy track record." He clearly didn't know me but I didn't argue as I handed him a dysfunctional fake of the real thing. But because he hadn't been the one to retrieve it, he wouldn't notice the difference.
Upon returning to Decepticon high command, Nightlock handed over the fake to Megatron. When he tried to activate it, the device exploded in his hand. Megatron was fiercely enraged to where he didn't listen as Nightlock explained he wasn't responsible. I took the moment to draw my blade and drive it through Nightlock's chest, silencing his whining and covering my tracks with his death. Megatron, though upset at the mission results, was pleased I killed an "incompetent not worthy to be called Decepticon." At the same time, with the destroyed relic in his possession, Megatron believed he still had some sway to manipulate the Autobots.
After my mission I held onto the real relic as I was shifted from battlefront to battlefront. I suspected Megatron was suspicious of my good behavior so I was relegated to my old role as a spy. While I was on recon for the 45th Legion, I caught wind of a meeting between Autobot leaders. Optimus Prime wasn't going to be present, but several other higher ups were. I chose this as my opportunity to make my move. I snuck into the Autobot camp and stealthily maneuvered my way to the war room before I readied a deadman switch.
Although I was met with (understandable) verbal hostility, the deadman switch protected me from any real harm. After offering them the (real) stolen relic, the encryption breaker, and various battle strategies and tactical plans I accumulated as a Decepticon, they agreed to my terms. I wanted incarceration for the remainder of the war. I had seen and caused too much death in my life thus far, blinded by lack of care with the Senate and later through my reverence for Megatron. And both caused the suffering of those I called brother. What I truly wanted was to stop fighting mindlessly.
And that's how things went for several stellar cycles, at Garrus-12 or G-12. A prison where Decepticon criminals went to disappear from public and private optics as G-12 was in no official record nor even remotely near any identifiable city or landmark on Luna-1. When the inmates heard of my betrayal, they all hated me and most attempted to take my life. I was able to fend them off easily as none had the skills I was programmed with and had honed over my life. But by the will of Primus, my stay was not to be permanent. The director of Autobot Intelligence paid me a visit and gave me an offer. Break me out by staging a coup and leaving a cadaver behind in my place to sell my 'death' during the coup. After that I would come to work for him under a new identity and do good work in the process. I turned it down but he was quite insistent. To appease the director, I gave him a non-committal response saying I would think it over.
After he left, I put it out of my mind and just did what I usually did to pass the time. Think about what kind of job I could do when I get out. I sometimes thought about maybe a simple industrial job. Nothing special and I could definitely build a foundation in fabrication skills. But I always wondered how long it would take till I got bored? I also thought maybe accounting or secretarial work to occupy my mind and maybe develop my people skills. But I always had to counter it with my distaste for repetition and paperwork as a whole. This kind of confliction of ideas constantly occupied my time as I evaluated, reevaluated, and then rejected or accepted ideas. But as I ran through the endless cycle, I started to evaluate the director's request. It didn't sound bad. Something I was familiar with. I would definitely see both field and office work, and could move between them as I or he saw fit.
I mulled it over until a full orbital cycle passed and the director returned. I agreed to join so long as several of my demands were met, most importantly I would choose my own ops so my conscience may remain clearer. The director agreed so long as he could override my request when it was of utmost importance. I obliged and by nightfall, G-12 was in disarray. As security scrambled to contain the incident, the director, his personal guard, and I were on an overlooking hill making way to a shuttle. Had to admit, I was impressed with how quickly the Autobots could mobilize, even if it was to partially sabotage themselves. "So do you have an idea of who you are now?" he asked.
I looked on the prison and shifted my armor of varying shades of blue to a scheme I had not seen in what felt like eons. My hull reshaped to primarily black with accents of purple, but my golden eyes remained. "Smokesniper is gone now." Massaging the voice modulator in my neck, my once deep, emotionless voice now mimicked the gentler tone of a long dead kin. "Stealth Saber is reborn." Stealth Saber always wanted another life. On that day, I chose to grant his wish. "Maybe if I play my cards right, he could be a hero."
As a precaution, I agreed to apply for Autobot Intelligence and run through the various tests required for entrance. Needless to say I passed with flying colors. Afterwards, my day-to-day job was threat analyses at Autobot Intelligence's Iacon headquarters. The facility was a nondescript skyscraper which blended into the city's skyline. The reason I was confined to hq was because the director wanted to keep me away from prying eyes as much as possible early on to ensure the "Smokesniper is dead" news got around. It was reasonable enough, but I eventually ached for the high-risk missions I used to participated in. Once I received the greenlight to operate in the field, investigative or intel reconnaissance were regular recommendations due to my familiarity with Decepticon systems and strategies. Sometimes I took up ops to infiltrate and decommission Decepticon facilities with high-threat levels.
One such op involved a major manufacturing facility where they were upgrading regular Decepticons into titan-class chassis. Those huge tanks were enough trouble as is, taking recruits and overhauling them on a mass scale was nightmarish. The most surprising aspect of the mission was an inconvenient blast from the past. One of my partners on it was the old Bot Wingblade who had escaped from Kaon Prison during a mass breakout. Though I tried to keep a distanced stance with him, he eventually realized who I was. But to my surprise, instead of trying to kill me, Wingblade thanked me for the lack of cruelty during my tenure as warden and now for turning over a new leaf. He agreed to keep my secret and to this day is one of my closest friends.
Ironically, later I was also tasked with assisting the Wreckers with a mission later on in my Autobot career. The irony comes as I was under the command of Springer. I doubt he'd recognize me now with my appearance and voice completely different, but his notoriety had yet to change. Compile that with the Wreckers own notoriety for destructive tendencies and it is easy to see why I thought it best to keep my history to myself. Our assignment was to retrieve personnel behind enemy lines, but security was going to be too tight to sneak in outright. So the Wreckers were here to besiege the place and distract the Decepticons so I could make my way inside and find the captives. Although the Wreckers seemed reckless and beyond control, I was able to see firsthand how coordinated and cautious they were, especially when the life of another was in the balance. And to be honest, despite his infamy, Springer was a decent leader and even better comrade.
After the op, I actually ran into Springer and Wingblade while making my way across Iacon and we stopped over at a bar. I think I had a glass or two too much engex because I ended up telling my secret to Springer. Next thing I knew I was trading fists with him in a nasty bar fight between us two with Wingblade trying to break it off until we both slugged him. We all woke up in a nearby alley the next morning, beaten and aching but chuckling as we found the situation entertaining. Springer said he started it to test my mettle and return the favor for the restraining bolt I slapped on his neck. But he could respect me trying to turn things around. Springer and I argue from time to time but just like Wingblade, I have come to call him brother-in-arms all the same.
Stellar cycles later and I was placed on desk duty again. I had been active in the field often; too often for the director's tastes and so he pulled me back to the Iacon hq to keep a low-profile. It was agonizing as I was making great progress in a high-profile case I had been working for deca cycles. Not to mention I had grown increasingly bored of paperwork. While I was there he requested I take part in a joint training program a drill sergeant at Iacon Police Academy had come up with. Initially the director was going to deny it, but figured it would be a unique opportunity and it would keep me busy for an orbital cycle or two. Although I initially denied it, I eventually said yes because I was growing increasingly bored from the lack of work variety at hq. Also because he would not stop pestering me!
So I trained a class of cadets for the time being. The police academy was comprised of two spartan and angular structures confined within a medium height wall with an overhang to keep out unwanted guests, or at least those that couldn't fly or jump high. The larger of the two was the primary teaching/training facility whereas the smaller one functioned as a barracks. The primary building was eerily similar to that of a few rectangles stacked upon each other which declined in width as the building reached higher and higher. One side was emblazoned with a substantial police badge symbol containing the letters 'IPA.' The yard was large and could accommodate a variety of simple and complex functions from an outdoor shooting range to a modular obstacle course. I kept this in mind when I trained cadets.
Just like with Wingblade I tried to keep a professional relationship with the cadets and other instructors. My advantage this time was the abundance of space to move around when there were breaks and I was granted almost total control of how I chose to proctor the cadets. However, one particular cadet proved nosier and more concerned than others. Her name was Roulette and I was already aware of her as she was among the top of her class. And I read the files on every cadet and instructor prior to arriving. I have definitely learned it never hurt to be informed. During the regular breaks allotted, I would always sneak away and spend my time on the roof, looking over the horizon. I don't know why I did it, but it felt right somehow, especially with the anniversary of Gigant Bomb's death coming up. After a deca-cycle however, Roulette had found my hiding spot and began to slowly keep me company. I won't lie, I enjoyed our talks.
She had gone through a similar experience long before. She was one of three sisters, the oldest was gunned down in a maraudicon raid of her hometown. While her remaining sister, Shadow Striker, chose to resort to crime and the Decepticons to cope, Roulette chose to become an officer to keep others from suffering as she had. For that alone she had my respect. As my time as her instructor progressed, we grew close and we continued to spend time with one another after my teaching time ended. I even attended the Academy's graduation ceremony to show my support. In the end, I grew to trust her dearly and with who I used to be. I chuckled once again realizing I may need reassess what the word secret means if a bunch of people know what it is already. Not long later, I went on a falsified mission at Autobot Intelligence's expense to Roulette's hometown and returned an old holo-photo of her family she left behind.
Within the next stellar cycle, she worked up the courage to inform me of the concept of conjunx ritus and subsequently, conjunx endura. I was startled by the realization we had been carrying out affirmation acts of affection, and more importantly, realizing I did in fact feel true affection for her. I spent some time trying to make certain I was truly who she wanted and trying to be sure I was actually ready for something like that. But Roulette proved more stubborn than I, she even talked me into being her sparkmate for our final act of devotion. As such, we each gifted each other a portion of our innermost energon and bound our sparks to one another. A thing I never thought I would willfully experience again.
With her help I was able to start turning my life around and let go of the past. I have since removed Gigant Bomb's memories from my mind into a storage drive for safekeeping and etched the names of him, the original Stealth Saber, and Roulette's deceased sister in our now shared apartment. When I am not deployed, and we are both off the clock, our days are just spent with each other. Either at home enjoying each other's company, or date nights on the town. Occasionally we will also 'hang' with our friends when they are available. I enjoy every moment of it as I feel I am actually alive and not simply existing between missions. For the first time in my life, I feel as though I truly have a reason to fight for. Friends and a loved one who want to see me make it home and through this war.
My memories and mind settled into place as a smile crossed my faceplate beneath the ever present battle mask. I need to remember to disengage that when I get home, Roulette prefers to see my expressions rather than listen for them. The attention my blissful mind retained was stolen by the thunderous march approaching. The Decepticons were nearing, their resolved renewed for another fight and for what I knew and could see before me, I was alone. Unbeknownst to me, that was not the reality as Autobot forces were not far behind. More to my immediate surroundings, Springer and Wingblade walked right up beside me, ready to take the fight back to the Decepti-creeps. Each offered a hand to raise me to my feet, which I gladly accepted. This battle may be arduous but I did not plan to die here, not when I have a home and life to come back too.
As I drew my burst fire rifle to supplement my DMR, I was slightly shocked by what was before me. I don't know if my mind was playing tricks on me or something but a translucent image of the original Stealth Saber stood just out in front of me. Smirking under my mask and speaking aloud, "Sorry Saber, I still don't have an answer to your question." Springer and Wingblade each shot me a glance. "But now that I have the chance, I am going to find out who I really am." I pounded fists with my two friends. "Just gotta get past this war first. I'll get back to you then."