On the Run (Part 1)

Space: massive, beautiful, and empty. The only interruptions to the vast nothingness were the distant stars and the severely damaged ship drifting through the void.

The vessel looked as though it had been through a catastrophic battle. Pieces were missing, and others were falling off as if the ship was shedding its skin like a snake. Several sections were engulfed in flames, with little explosions happening here and there.

The inside of the ship didn't seem to be faring any better. Panels were peeling off of walls, wires hung loose, and sparking, and the blaring of multiple alarms echoed in every room. In one hallway, a young Transformer struggled to reactivate the repair systems.

"Slag!"

The bright blue and orange mech growled as he slammed his servo onto the console. He reeled back as the device sputtered and sparked in response.

I should've realized fleeing to Nebulon was a stupid idea. Of course, the Decepticons would have a fleet there!

The mech slumped into a nearby chair and rubbed his optics in frustration. The relentless alarms did nothing to help him think.

The ship's low on fuel and is breaking down by the second. To top it all off, a group of trigger-happy Cybertronians are trying to hunt me down.

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the ship, nearly knocking him off the seat.

"What now?" He moaned as he checked the scanner. Nothing appeared on the screen, so he switched to the ship's cameras. His optics widened in shock at the sight of smoke billowing from the engine room.

"Scrap," he cursed before rushing to the cockpit. "Gotta land this junk pile."

"It's a shame you don't have any engineering skills. I could've fixed this up in ten nano cycles."

The mech skidded to a halt and groaned in frustration. Oh great, why now?

He looked over his shoulder to see a ghostly grey figure looking over the ship's consoles. It mirrored the mech's movements, revealing itself to be a mangled Cybertronian with a gaping hole in its chest.

The mech narrowed his optics in annoyance before heading to the pilot's seat. "What do you want now?"

The figure raised its arms defensively as the mech walked away. "Geez, can't I talk to my friend and coworker? You haven't said a word to any of us since you escaped those Seekers."

"I have no reason to talk to you," the mech replied, settling into the pilot's seat. "I don't even know why I'm listening to you. Just a sign my mind is still slipping."

"Looks like now's not a good time to talk to him, Stybeam," a feminine voice suddenly cut in. "He's in a bad mood."

The mech's optic twitched. "You too?"

Reflected in the cockpit window was another gray, disfigured Transformer missing her right arm and half of her face. She leaned against a wall near the cockpit, observing a single spark coming from the ceiling above her.

"You should learn to take better care of your things," she said with a smirk, turning to him. "Then again, this isn't yours, is it Brighty?"

An orange light suddenly began to flash wildly on the console before Brightlock could have a chance to answer.

"Primus, help me. It never ends."

Swiveling around, the mech spotted a third figure, bigger than the first two, staring at the cameras. This one's head and upper torso were almost entirely gone, with only tiny parts of it floating in the places they used to be. The bottom half of his left leg was gone and his left side was torn open, exposing ghostly Cybertronian insides.

"Hey don't look at me Lockster." The third figure moved back as Brightlock once again checked the cameras. "I didn't touch anything."

"Of course you didn't Bronze Fist," Stybeam commented as he followed his blue and orange associate, being sure to give him some space. "None of us can physically touch anything. Unless you count Brightlock's nerves."

Brightlock let out an annoyed sigh before switching through the cameras. Nothing seemed to be happening, at least nothing new, until he switched to the cargo hold camera. Through the cracks and fizzling of the camera lens, Brightlock could make out three Mini-Cons were bustling about, putting out any flames in their way.

"It seems we're not the only ones on this ship," Stybeam commented.

"Well, Brighty?" Dazzler approached from Brightlock's left, arms crossed. "Are you just gonna stand there on your pedes or are you gonna go help them?"

"Uh, right, right," Brightlock took off down the hallway only to briefly stop himself. He turned back and pointed at the ghostly figures. "And I'm only doing it cause I need to help them, not because I'm listening to you three."

"Suuuuure," Stybeam called out as Brightlock took off, smirking as Dazzler and Bronze Fist chuckled.

As Brightlock raced down the dimly lit corridor he dodged falling panels and sparking wires that jerked as if possessed. He also grabbed an extinguisher from one of the few intact rooms. Maybe with those Mini-Cons help there's a chance to salvage this ship, or at least keep it stable until we find a safe place to land.

Bursting into the cargo hold, Brightlock found himself in the middle of a chaotic scene. The Mini-Cons, small but determined, worked together, wielding makeshift extinguishers to douse the flames that were eating whatever cargo this ship was carrying. Their teamwork gave them an edge, but they struggled to quell the rising flames.

"Hey!" Brightlock called out as he entered. "I'm here to help!"

The Mini-Cons lightly jumped at his voice, turning with wide optics. One colored black and white zipped over to him. "Thank Primus you're here! Are you the captain?"

"Unfortunately no, I'm not!" Brightlock glanced at the inferno and activated his extinguisher. "We need to stop the flames around the ship under control. Does anyone have a quick and easy solution?"

The Mini-Con shook his head. "This isn't something that'll end fast. We've been working on these flames, and shortly before you entered we spotted a leak in the coolant system! If we don't fix it, the whole ship could go up in a spark!"

"Where's the leak?!" Brightlock flipped his visor down, scanning the areas for signs of a spillage.

"Back there!" The second Mini-Con, a red one pointed towards a far corner where energon leaked from a busted pipe. However, a pile of broken crates and equipment blocked the way.

"Normally I'd just fly over and patch it up no problem," the final blue and gray Mini-Con, and the only mech with a flight mode, commented with a smirk, much to the chagrin of his fellow Mini-Cons. "But we have to keep the flames from spreading!"

"Alright, then, I have a plan," Brightlock spoke after assessing the situation. "What're your names?"

"Divebomb."

"Strongarm."

"Firebot."

"Divebomb and Firebot, you two keep the flames back while I clear a path for Strongarm," Brightlock explained, as they all proceeded to force back another flame.

"That'll work," the black and white Mini-Con grinned. "I have a whole slew of mechanical skills."

"Then let's not waste time," Firebot stated as he stepped forward, using his hydro cannon's full blast, spewing flame retardant. "I'm running low on my reserves!"

The rest followed his lead, Divebomb using his copter blades to blow back any flames near Brightlock as he lifted a particularly heavy create. With nimble precision, Strongarm inched towards the leak, his small form allowing him to maneuver through the debris.

"Alright, I see it!" He yelled back as he got to work. Brightlock set down the crate and used his extinguisher to help out Divebomb.

"How's it coming, Strongarm?" Firebot asked as the flames began to die down on his end.

"Just a few more nano-kliks and we-"

Another explosion rocked the ship, creating a shockwave that knocked Brightlock and Firebot off their pedes.

Struggling to stand, Brightlock heard Strongarm cry out. He saw Strongarm pinned under a fallen beam. Panic surged within him and he suddenly felt his whole body begin to shiver.

He suddenly found himself back in the old warehouse on Cybertron, the bodies of his coworkers and friends scattered like forgotten trash as a fire raged all around him. "No, no..."

A faint sound of footsteps began to grow closer. Brightlock's optics darted around frantically, he swore he could hear his spark sputter as the hidden scars on his face flared. Through the smoke and haze, a distorted figure emerged. It held something in one claw that glinted against the blazing inferno. Everything around Brightlock seemed to spin as fragmented memories of destruction flared around him.

"Please, not now."

"Brighty!" Dazzler's voice echoed and cut through the nightmare. "You have to get up!"

"The little guys need your help!" Bronze Fist's voice added.

"This is not where your story ends, bud. Not while we have anything to say about it." Stybeam's voice was laced with encouragement. "Now get up!"

Brightlock shook his head violently, forcing himself to focus. He forced himself to look towards Strongarm, locking onto reality.

"Hang on!" he shouted, rushing over. The phantom pain of his scars and the specter in the smoke faded as the nightmare receded.

Grabbing the beam tight with his servos, he lifted it with all his might, his frame protesting against the effort. The beam's heat grew more intense by the second, he could feel it singeing his plating.

"Now!" He barked, dropping the beam after Strongarm crawled out. "Fix the leak! Hurry!"

The Mini-Con dove toward the coolant pipe, his tools flashing as he worked in a frenzy. At this point, the flames in the cargo hold had drastically died down.

"Got it!" Strongarm shouted and Brightlock felt immense relief as he and the others snuffed the last few flames. All four mechs were beaming despite the soot covering their chassis.

"We did it," Firebot's voice was a mixture of exhaustion and relief, which could be said for the rest. Before they could enjoy their success, the ship suddenly lurched forward, again throwing all but Divebomb off balance.

"Scrap We need to stabilize this thing!" Brightlock exclaimed as he stumbled toward the hallway. The mech steadied himself as the ship shuddered, the alarms blaring with renewed urgency. "Strongarm, keep an eye on the coolant. Firebot, Divebomb I may need some help in the cockpit!"

As the three raced towards the cockpit, ominous groans and creaks echoed through the ship. Flickering screens displayed critical failures, sparks peppered the interior, and metal screeched as it was peeled away.

Brightlock dove into the pilot's seat, gripping the controls as his eyes studied the chaotic readout of the console. They were on a collision course with a planet!

"Hold on to something!" Brightlock gripped the controls tightly as impact alarms bellowed.

Soon enough, they entered the planet's atmosphere, the ship burning on entry. Brightlock heard and felt the ship's systems protesting in response, but there was no turning back now. Divebomb and Firebot were clutching anything still nailed down, messaging Strongarm to do the same.

"This is not how I pictured my life would end!" Divebomb wailed.

"What, were you hoping you'd go out full of energon in a private penthouse in front of a giant statue of yourself?" Firebot yelled in annoyance.

"Actually, I was thinking of just the statue, but your idea sounds better!"

The crew braced themselves as the ship slammed down. The world spun and Brightlock felt himself going dark as he was sailed through the cockpit window.

Brightlock's optics briefly flickered, a world of smoke faintly coming into focus. His processor felt fuzzy as it struggled to understand how he was still alive. The sounds of crackling flames and distant alarms faded into a low hum, replaced by the ambiance of the chaos around him.

Three silhouettes emerged from the haze, and approached the broken mech, eerily towering over him. The swirling dust and debris obscured their appearance.

As Brightlock felt himself being pulled back into stasis mode, one of the figures knelt beside him, bright blue eyes full of concern.

"He's still alive!" It said with a feminine voice that sounded relieved before taking on a more gentle tone. "Hello? You'll be alright, I promise."

1 Week Later

Up above the planet, another ship entered the system.

Within the cockpit, two figures stared at the screen displaying a readout of the planet.

"So this is where it ended up?"

"Indeed. I'm picking up the same signal from the surface, granted it's much weaker than before. Most likely they crashed." The owner of the second voice pushed a button. "I'm also picking up many Cybertronian life signals on the planet. Quite possibly a colony."

"Yeah, great, but are you certain that ship had an Autobot signature?" The first voice impatiently prodded.

"Affirmative."

"Perfect." The first voice was full of sadistic glee. "More Autobots to add to the list."

Activating the ship's cloak, the second Cybertronian steered their vessel toward the planet. As the craft descended, the sun glinted off the Decepticon emblem tattooed on its side.

This is the first chapter in my first-ever Transformers fanfic. I hope you enjoyed reading it.

The universe I'm making will use elements from the various shows and comics the franchise has made.

Brightlock is my first Transformers OC. As you can see, he is haunted by scars and ghosts thanks to the war.

He and the Mini-cons have crashed onto a planet with a Cybertronian colony. The question is, which one is it?

And what do the two Decepticons tracking the ship have planned?

Characters

Brightlock (OC)

Stybeam (OC)

Dazzler (OC)

Bronze Fist (OC)

Night Rescue Team

Divebomb

Firebot

Strongarm