An Announcement on the Bridge
Drift is nervous. In the time since Rodimus left the ship and put Drift in charge, this is the first time he’s collectively addressed the crew in any way other than memos and the occasional shipwide announcement. Now here they are, though, assembled in front of him on the bridge, waiting to hear him speak, for the first time.
And probably the last time.
Come on, Drift, you’ve made speeches before. Just tell yourself you’re not stabbing Rodimus in the back and everything will be fine.
“You’re aware that, over the past few days, I’ve been conducting a poll about the future of the Lost Light. Whether we should stay the course, hard as that may seem, and remain at our posts as we search for a—a miracle—a miracle like we’ve seen many times before on our journeys—to get us back into space... or whether we should break up the crew, and go live our own lives, populating the Lost Light with only a skeleton crew, as we search for a way to get it space worthy again. I’ve gathered you here to announce the results of that poll.”
Deep breath. “It’s with a heavy spark casing that I announce that... you have voted not to remain on the ship. And... as your acting captain... I accept your decision.”
There are murmurs, of course. Drift waits a moment to see if they’ll grow into shouts; when they don’t, he speaks again. “Just—give me a moment to finish, and then I’ll—I’ll be happy to answer your questions.
“First—this means, of course, that you’re all released from your duties. Good news: no more cleaning duty.” (There are a couple of halfhearted cheers. Drift smiles weakly at them. Thanks, he needed that.) “You’re also released from the ship. If you want to, you can move to Iacon, to Crystal City—to anywhere else on Cybertron or in space, wherever you want. Just... if you can, let me know where you’re going. Because I want to know. And I’m sure Rodimus will too, when he’s back.
“Second—and this is important—you can leave, but that doesn’t mean you have to leave. I know that, for some of you, the Lost Light was just a job—some place that would pay you after the war ended. But for others of you... including me... the Lost Light is more. It’s your home. And you’re not going to be kicked out of your home. The Lost Light is going to need people to help maintain and defend it while we’re looking for a way to repair it—and we are looking for a way to repair it—so anybody who wants to stay can stay. We’ll be happy and grateful for your support.
“Third—I know some of you will want to leave, but don’t know where you want to go. You’re not going to be tossed out in the cold, either. As your interim captain, I’m making myself available as a resource to you, for anything you might need to help you find a new place in the world. Helping you find a job, looking for a place to live, providing money to get you a ship or help you start up a business or just stay afloat while you’re looking for a job—anything you need, I’m here for you. And your fellow Lost Lighters will be too. I’m going to be setting up a board on the bridge so that we can all offer and ask for assistance from each other. Check it regularly to see if there’s anything you can provide to someone else who needs it, and leave a notice if there’s anything you need help with or anything you can offer. The ship and its space bridge will remain open to everyone here, so you can come back any time you want.
“Fourth... this—this isn’t over. Our mission, our quest—it’s not over. I’m not giving up. Not on getting the Lost Light into space, and not on finding the Knights of Cybertron. So as much help as I’m offering you as you leave the Lost Light, I’m going to ask you to help me, too. If, in your own travels, you hear any rumors that might connect to the Knights of Cybertron, or lost Cybertronian colonies and ships on alien worlds—please, contact me. Tell me. I’ll also be sending every one of you a memo with the supplies and materials our engineering crew says are needed to repair our engines. They say that half of these supplies don’t even exist yet—but someday, I’m sure, they will. And the multiverse is a wide place, maybe somewhere they already do. I’m not asking you to continue the quest all on your own. I’m not asking you to seek out rumors of the Knights or, or beyond-cutting-edge quantum engine repair tools. Just to remember us—to remember this ship, all it’s done for you, and all it still might do for Cybertron—and to say something if you happen to stumble across something useful.
“... I guess that’s everything. If you have any questions—or, anything else you want to say—now’s the time for it.”
