TFS:ITDR Chapter 3 (OLD)

Deep within the endless galaxy, far beyond the boundaries of Cybertron, away from all signs of life, laid a small, burned-out, rocky sphere.  Planet Charr was the only planet in its own solar system that contained no life . . . for years, anyway.  Nowadays the Decepticons inhabited and ruled the planet in a tyranny fashion.

Charr had very limited resources, which was why the Decepticons were always raiding other planets like Earth for Energon.  Energon was the food for transformers.  It helped all circuits run efficiently without failing.

On the planet's surface stood tall buildings.  Most of them were made of stone, but some were clad of robust steel.  Even the largest building, that was in the middle of the Decepticon settlement, stood tall and proud for all the passing by robots to see.  

Inside the building came a loud grumbling sound.  Galvatron paced the floor, growling about something.  It always seemed that day after day he would talk angrily to himself while his subjects watched.  Usually, his problems would be centered on another defeat by the Autobots, like today . . . like always.  Instead of kicking computers and shooting the Sweeps, he moped.  It was quite strange for some 'bot, especially Galvatron, to be sulking like this.

One of the brave Sweeps approached the growling leader.  "Galvatron," he cowered, "is there anything we can do that will make you happier?"

Galvatron turned sharply and gave the Sweep an evil glare.  "You want to know what will make me happy.  Do you?"

"Y-yes, s-sir."

"Well, maybe, if I get better, newly-made troops, instead of old, rusty, spare-parters with low attention-spans, I might have a chance to obliterate the Autobots, and win this freakin' war!"  Galvatron fired his cannon, severely damaging the Sweep and frightening the rest.  "I hate you all!  Why do I command such idiots?!  Dang it, I hate everything!" he cried.

Cyclonus rose from his chair.  "Sir, maybe you might be over-reacting just a bit?"

"Shut-up, Cyclonus, I don't need your crap."

Scourge tapped Cyclonus of the shoulder.  A disgusted look appeared on the second-in-command's face.  "What," he growled.

"Hmph," Scourge could not help but offer a sly smile, "Someone call the planet Earth line known as '9-1-1'."

"Why, Scourge . . .?"

"'Cause you just got BURNED!"  Scourge laughed.  The best come-back Cyclonus could think of was an evil look.

"Cyclonus, you're in charge," Galvatron moped.

With a smirk on his face, Cyclonus turned to Scourge, "Ha!  Wait . . . why, my lord?"

"Because I need to be alone, moron," It had seemed that every day the Decepticon leader was in deep depression that had no end.  Before he left, he looked in the direction on Cybertron.  He coldly glared at deep space,

"One of these days, Rodimus Prime, one of these days."

Galvatron had a special ability to fly without transforming into vehicle mode (considering the fact that his vehicle mode in a Cybertronian gun).  He jumped off of Charr's landing platform and took flight.

Whether it was extreme depression or extreme boredom, Galvatron needed solitude.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It seemed like a short time. It felt like minutes. But minutes turned into hours, and soon, hours turned into days.  And after three weeks, the haggard, somber-faced Galvatron had neared the far edge of the galaxy.  He never realized how beautiful it was.  Even some'bot, cold-sparked as he was, could not escape the softness he felt inside.

Instead of the sky being practically black, it was a deep purple with patches of blue.  Billions of stars littered the endless sky, flaring and twinkling to show its magnificence.  Galvatron could not help but smile (for once).

The scenic beauty was nice and all, but Galvatron had been flying for weeks, and he needed to rest.  He scanned the vast area to find a dry, deserted planet.  It was red and dusty -almost like the planet near Earth known as Mars.  The only difference was that Mars was colonized, this one was not.

Galvatron landed.  Scanning the area again, he noticed that the barren surface had no signs of life and that no breeze had ever come its way.  He walked forward, leaving eternal footprints to sit in the dust for billons of stellar-cycles.  Bending down he pressed his palm to the ground and picked up a handful of red sand.  He let it run through his fingers and back to the planet's surface.

"Interesting planet, you are," he muttered to the surface, "but will you be of any use to me?"

Scanning once more, Galvatron's homing sensor began to flash before his optics.  He took a few steps back before a small screen appeared in his processor. The image that appeared on his main screen showed what appeared to be pulsating, cube-shaped objects.

Energon Cubes.

They glimmered on Galvatron's main screen inside his processor.  He narrowed his optics, "Display coordinates," he commanded.  The screen beeped and calculated. ".85 degrees north, 39.668457 degrees south," it said to him.

Now, Galvatron was never this persistent to find Energon Cubes.  But with the Decepticons constantly losing battles (leading to Energon shortage), he could not resist.

He flew to the spot in which his computer told him to go.  Sure enough, the Energon was there.  But this . . . was not like usual Energon.  Instead of its usual multicolored or purple, it was blue.  Electric blue.  But why?

Galvatron picked a cube up and examined it.  Its marvelous light nearly blinded him.  The attracting warmth of the Energon would make any robot come close, even one as smart as Ultra Magnus.  But, in the excitement of the moment of new discovery, his fingers slipped, leaving the cube to plummet to the planet's dry, dusty surface.

The cube shattered.  Electric blue shards flew every which way possible; some flying out of the atmosphere, some skidding into the dust, some even hitting Galvatron's metal leg.  Even with the strong armor, it hurt.  With a whine and repeated jumping and yelping, he immediately began to pull bits and pieces from his punctured servo.

Oil began to form at the openings where the leg met the air.  It ran down Galvatron's leg and dripped into the dry sand.  He clenched his teeth, holding his right leg, which was more injured than his left.  Oil was the Cybertronian blood.  Just like humans, it was essential to the robot's body in the same way it was to people.

"Crap," he said, staring at the shattered ruins of the once Energon cube.  But the next thing he (also known as the "Ever-curser" by the Sweeps) noticed was quite odd.

A light blue mist began to form from the broken pieces.  It swirled through the air like a ghost, bending, twisting, and floating in front of Galvatron. Before he knew it, he himself was surrounded by the confusing, yet interesting mist.  Then . . . he felt funny.

Galvatron's circuits felt like they were sizzling and his metal armor began to feel very smooth and soft . . . and scaly.  His head hurt more than anything else.  What was happening?  His fingers began to feel sharper than before, and he had two places in his back that throbbed in mortifying pain.

"Someone, please . . . help!!  Help me!"  Galvatron cried, "Please, help!"  But it was no use, and his shouts and cries were drowned out by the now tightly-packed mist.  And all of the sudden, he felt like he was shrinking . . . not just in height, but also in stature and body positioning.  He went from being on two legs, to standing on all fours.  He was losing his metal shell to more scaly skin; purple in appearance.  His helmet began to feel just like scales, and became much softer by touch.  The chevrons on his helmet also changed, into what looked like a bony substance.  His back felt like it had sprouted something . . . something bony, but with membrane.  His hands and fingers turned into paws and claws, and, most embarrassing of all, his aft felt like something had grown there too!

In all of the chaos, the mist suddenly cleared, and left the result, the scaly and bony and full-of-membrane result.  Galvatron's optics opened or, rather, his eyes.  Eyes?  And why did he feel different?  

Looking at himself only left Galvatron speechless.  His once purple and grey metallic armor had becomes soft, dry, and scaly.  His helmet chevrons were replaced with three bony horns.  He was on all fours and his feet and hands had been replaced with padded paws and extremely sharp talons.  What had sprouted from his back were definitely wings.  Bending them, he could see juts how flexible and strong they were.  His chest armor had been replaced with grey plates, starting at his neckline and moving down to his tail . . . His tail.  So that is what "sprouted" from his aft.

Galvatron swayed it back and forth in front of him.  It was long, purple like his body, soft on top but strong underneath.  At the end of it were two long, curved, black spikes.

Of the many things that changed on Galvatron, there was one thing in particular that would be his greatest downfall.  No weapons.  In the transformation, he had lost his cannon on his arm, the most powerful thing that he had ever come to have.

"How do I change back . . . and . . . what am I?"  He wondered, still gazing with curiosity at his new figure.  Picking-up the Energon with his paw, he did the same thing as he did before; he smashed it into the ground.

The misty fumes appeared once again, swirling madly around Galvatron as if he was a mist-magnet.  He rose up to standing on two legs.  His paws turned back into hands.  His scales began to disappear and form back into metal armor.  His helmet returned and the bony horns became chevrons once more.  The wings on his back and tail on his aft vanished, all to the point where he looked like a normal Decepticon again.

Now this, will be useful, was all he thought, taking as much of the Energon he could hold.  Whatever this magic it demonstrated was, Galvatron knew that this would be his ultimate weapon to lead his victory against the Autobots and retake Cybertron. This Energon . . . this mystifying changer . . . it had an odd power – the power to change anything metal into some-type of powerless, organic being.

Galvatron took-off of the dry, red, and dusty planet, happier than ever.  He, for once, was actually excited to get to Charr to tell his troops of the good news.  Little did he know, however, that someone was watching him from far away.