Chapter Text
The Lost Light hadn’t been the same ever since Megatron joined. There was an essence of uncertainty and fear wafting through the air at all times, permeating the everyday schedule and events on the ship. Maybe that’s why Getaway decided to do something about it.
For a while now, he had grown to hate how things were done on the Lost Light. The crew was frankly insane. A bunch of screw-ups, rejects and nobodies shoved into a galactic circus ship led by the biggest clown of them all, Rodimus. The discovery of the “Rod Pod” while on Hydrophena was enough to make Getaway’s spark shrivel and cringe.
He took a finishing swig of his drink and threw the empty bottle over his shoulder. “He went meteor surfing the other day! His crew is stuck on this ship, anxious, scared, dying! Can you believe it??”
“Tch, yeah. Some captain he is.” Atomizer nodded along.
“I mean, seriously! I am convinced that Magnus is the only one running this operation. Rodimus is just a pretty, charismatic face.” Getaway flung his arms in frustration.
“Pretentious and pathetic.”
The pair fell into silence and let the anger swirl around them.
There was a knock at their door before it slid open and Whirl stepped in. “Heard there was drinking and shit-talking, I couldn’t pass that up!” He plopped himself down by Atomizer.
“Glad you could join us, Whirl. have a drink.” Getaway passed a bottle with a straw over to Whirl, which the copter gladly took and started sipping.
“What’s your opinion on Rodimus?”
“He’s an okay guy, captain of the ship and all. Could be better.” He took another large sip, finishing off the drink. “That was absolute trash by the way. Got anything stronger?”
“Could be better indeed…” Getaway exchanged glances with Atomizer.
Handing Whirl another drink, Getaway leaned in towards him. Hook.
“Ahh forget about him for now… What do you think of Megatron?” He watched Whirl's antennae twitch. Line.
“He’s… he’s… I don’t even know where to begin.” Sinker. “He’s a narcissistic scraphead who should just die… but I think I respect him, because y’know, functionists and all...”
“The way I see it, Megatron didn’t do scrap to deal with the functionists! He just tore down the council and made his own authoritarian regime.” Getaway relaxed in his seat.
The copter's optic focused in on Getaway.
“Everyone who stood up to the functionists got punished, even Megatron, even you”.
Whirl didn’t move.
“Megatron stepped out of line and on that day when he got arrested, you were sent to punish him for it. Just like you were punished for stepping out of line. They took your hands…”
Atomizer glared at Getaway and shook his head slightly. He ignored him.
“They took your hands, they took your face… they took your entire life for less than what Megatron has done… but he hasn’t been punished… and then he went ahead and wrote about you in that stupid book of his. I know for a fact that there are Autobots that resent you for creating him.”
Whirl looked down at his claws.
“Megatron is on this ship getting a second shot at life, despite everything that he’s done. We can’t have that. Get rid of what you made.”
Whirl looked up at Getaway. “What’s your plan?”
“I need your help.”
–
“It’s me. Bad news– he didn’t bite.”
A sigh came over the phone. “Are you sure you made him really angry? I didn’t think he’d leave you alive.”
“No, it’s like Rodimus said before we left: it’s like he’s expecting to be provoked”. Whirl looked down at where his arm was missing. “So– what else do you have in mind?”
–
A knock on the door made Ratchet look up from his work. “Y’know, you don’t need to knock to come into the Medibay.”
“I know, I just wanted to be polite.” Nautica sauntered into the room. “Wow, it’s really hectic here. Need any help?”
The quantum duplicate incident left everyone on edge. The moment the crew was returned to the Lost Light, Ratchet ordered an exam for everyone to make sure all was well, and with the limited medical staff on the ship, the medibay was packed with concerned crew, and few overworked medics and medi-drones.
“Help would be great, but I don’t trust non-medical staff to handle this stuff.”
Nautica watched as the medics spun around the room, working swiftly to make sure everyone was okay. First Aid looked like he’d collapse at any moment, but he still pushed through.
As the rush cleared out, the room finally came to a quiet.
“You can head off now, kid. You need to rest.” Ratchet took a stack of datapads from First Aid’s clutches.
In a silent, zombie-like stupor, he walked past Nautica and down the hall to his hab.
“Is he okay?”
“He hasn’t left his room much since Ambulon’s passing. He’s… yeah”. The old doc turned for the storage room and disappeared behind the door.
Nautica followed behind. “I want to ask you something, but I’m not sure if it’s a sensitive topic.”
Ratchet huffed. “Well, ask away”.
“Maybe Nightbeat’s detective quirk has rubbed off on me. I wanted to ask about the spectralist that you spoke about a while ago”.
“Drift?” Ratchet tensed up.
“...We saw his body when we were on the other Lost Light, he was protecting you… you two seemed very close”.
There was a chill in the room, and the silence didn’t help.
“Drift is someone I know. That kid’s been through the wringer of life, but he came out cleaner than a whistle. Maybe not that clean since he fell into some spiritual bullshit, but it’s the best state I’ve seen him in for millions of years.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever met him before. Is he still on the ship?”
“Yeah… I’ll be on my break in a few cycles. Meet me here and we can visit him together”. Ratchet felt oddly happy about seeing Drift again.
_
“Name and reason for visitation?”
“I’m here to see my friend Drift, and you know me, Pincher. I replaced your flexor pollicis actuators just the other day.”
“I just need it for the paperwork.” He scrawled onto a datapad and squinted up at Ratchet and Nautica. “Why visit now?”
Ratchet frowned and let out a sigh. “I’m entirely confident that no one has gone to visit him since the quantum split. He must’ve been scared.”
“Alright, proceed.”
Nautica smiled excitedly as she trailed behind Ratchet.
“I haven’t had the chance to visit him yet,” guilt laced his voice. “Any time I find him in the hallways he runs away from me, and things have just been too restless for me to come all the way down here.”
“I’ve heard about Drift and how he was a Decepticon once. Seems like he made an amazing turnaround.”
“Yeah, he’s incredible. He just doesn’t know it still.”
_
The guard walked up to the private cell and banged on the door.
“You’ve got visitors!”
…
“It’s someone you’ll wanna see!”
…
“Hey, kid, it’s me.”
…
“Drift?”
Pincher fiddled with the lock and opened the door. The cell was modestly sized, with a recharge slab for rest, a desk, and table. It was stale, quiet and noticeably empty.
“Oh frag. We lost him.”