A/N: Sooo I'm just stopping by here to drop you guys off this story, I mean, I haven't updated or uploaded anything new in awhile cause school loves to chomp away on my inspiration and time but yeah, here you go. Original script(with some parts of MTMTE #15 involved and what not) by Kotteri :9 Beware lol It's full of dialogue. I also again forgot my writing style XD Oh boy

And this is an non-beta story so if I missed something and it sounds funny or an error in spelling or something please let me know and I'll fix it right away :)

"Luck is never on my side, is it...?" Pipes said randomly out of the blue, pretty much sighing it as he let his chin rest in his propped up servos. His actions and words gained him the attention of the other mechs sitting at the large round table in the middle of Swerve's newly established bar(that Magnus still highly disapproves of, but oh well). Holding up his glass of engex, Trailbreaker just gave the smaller mech a much needed cheery smile that matched his attitude, Skids however curiously looked over at him as he continued to sip from his own drink. But it wasn't just those two who had laid their optics on him, Chromedome and Swerve did the same as well. The former Mnemosurgeon and newly occupied bartender giving him their full attention to see what their friend was suddenly so upset about.

"Ohh? Where'd that come from, Pipes? Somethin' the matter?" Trailbreaker asked almost a little too cheerful, but he couldn't help it, he was a little drunk at the moment to have noticed anyways. However the force field generating mech did hope that his expression and tone of speech would change the mood of the minibot even in the slightest though regardless of his efforts, the blue white grounder continued to sulk around in his seat. Huffing a little, Pipes seemed to have been utterly defeated from some anonymous force that they have yet to figure out. Frowning a little to this, Trailbreaker quieted down when the other began to speak his mind again, listening attentively along with the others, already trying to come up with a solution despite his somewhat intoxicated mind.

"First it was the Red Rust plague back on Delphi. Then, soon as I managed to recover, I get shot by Fort Max..." Placing his glass down on the table, Skids gave the younger Autobot a few good pats on the shoulder, obviously trying to reassure Pipes' uneased and unconfident mind, though he really didn't respond much to the comforting touch.

"You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens. Don't worry about it. You're still young." Skids commented and again Pipes didn't reply for several moments.

"Maybe I'm just a weak, unlucky loser..." Pipes sighed and was nearly taken by surprise when Trailbreaker burst out laughing, nearly causing the contents in his glass to splash everywhere and even on himself but somehow not a single drop left the cylinder see through capless container. Maybe he was secretly using some invisible force field of his or maybe he was just lucky enough it didn't spill, Pipes went with the second option cause these mechs seemed a lot more lucky than he ever was and probably ever will be.

"Ahh! No way! What's even the change that's true~?" Trailbreaker continued to laugh his response, obviously he was a lot more intoxicated since his last reply which was a little more, well, straightforward and sober. Swerve gave a slight grin at Trailbreaker's actions and word choice as he continued to clean a few empty glasses around the table to be refilled while Chromedome on the other hand rolled his optics and nearly sighed himself because of the Outlier.

"Don't laugh. Honestly. Weak? Quite the contrary. Pipes, you survived all of that! It's proof that-unlike Swerve-you may be small, but you're also strong and sturdy." Chromedome explained and placed a hand on the other grounder's upper back plating causing the other to lower one of his servos and look at him, curiosity and belief dimly glowing through the minibot's red visor. The two of them ignoring Swerve who mumble; "I regret nothing" behind them as he moved around the table some more for the empty glasses out of his reach from where he had been sitting.

"Oi, that's right! You lil' bots just gotta watch your heads! Got that, Pipes?" Trailbreaker exclaimed with a lot of boast that he actually fell out of his chair that time, toppled right over along with another canteen full to the brim with engex in hand. The others didn't even cringe at the sound of breaking glass as they had to contain their laughter as the Outlier went on with his proud rant of encouragement. "'Cause I'm tall and my line of sight's sooooo high up! Y'Can't expect me to watch my every step~!"

"I wonder how you're gonna take any steps at all when you're that drunk." Skids commented and waved it off, Pipes seemingly crawling more and more out of his hole of lack of confidence and just watching the others instead.

"I'm very stubborn. That's why I'm so sturdy." Swerve replied, noting as Skids grinned happily at the minibot as Trailbreaker swiftly sat back up, shaking his fist and yelling like the drunk idiot he is.

"Ohh what'd you just say? You wanna start something?" Though his reply was a little late and said after Swerve had said something the comment was actually supposed to be directed to Skids, or well, that's what Pipes' assumed anyways seeing how he was the last and only one to make fun of the force field generator in this entire conversation. Chromedome again had just rolled his optics and told Trailbreaker to; "be quiet and go to sleep already." And thankful for the protection of his visor and face guard, Pipes leaned forward against the table with interest, smiling, beaming happily as he watched a full on argument began between Trailbreaker and anyone who wanted to "start something."

He barely had the time to transform, barely had the time to even move, his spark was fading and crumbling as he struggled to move, struggled to keep it from falling out of his ripped open chassis. Pit it hurt. His vocalizer was crushed from the impact along with the rest of his body. Overlord. The brutal killing machine known as a Phase Sixer was on board and he was the first target in the monster's line of sight, and of course without mercy or hesitation, crushed under the sole of his foot. Twice. Crawling, more like dragging the rest of him only with the use of his only unoccupied servo-the other was keeping his spark from falling out-he reached the wall. Pulling himself up to a sit he tried to concentrate as the glow of his life force continued to shrink rapidly. Using the rest of his strength his forcefully slammed his fist onto the alarm button, breaking it in the process how he wasn't sure before he flopped down onto the ground-somehow managing to roll onto his back as he stared up at the ceiling. Dying.

Fading.

His optics were flickering offline and it felt like he has been laying there for hours, seemingly an endless wait for death to arrive and the alarms to go off around the ship. And all he could think of was home, and having a great time here, the pain ebbing away slowly, as he lost more and more feeling in his body, his visor quit glowing and his optics barely shined through the thick glass.

Am I just an unlucky loser?

And then his thoughts and mind drifted back to that one night. The night at Swerve's, the one that stuck out the most regardless of all the other times.

They were laughing, he didn't even realize that he was laughing to. All of them were having a great time, him to? He was. Sure he gotten a little sick on the way and shot up a bit, but Pit, he had made some friends on the way. He was definitely having a wonderful time here on the Lost Light. And for some reason it felt more like home than Cybertron ever did, he didn't know why, but it did.

His optics offlined and his spark went out.

No way, not a chance