Transformers Galvatron Self Insert (TFP)

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Location: Galactic Council Central Command – High Council Chambers

POV: Councilor Varn

The High Council chambers, once a symbol of order and unity, now echoed with the sounds of heated debate. Holographic projections of conquered worlds floated above the central table, their crimson glow casting eerie shadows across the room. Each image told the same story: Decepticon conquest.

Councilor Varn stood at the table's edge, his taloned hands gripping the polished surface. His normally calm demeanor had cracked under the strain, his voice rising above the din.

"This is unsustainable!" he roared, slamming a fist down. "We've lost seven sectors in less than a stellar cycle! If we continue at this rate, there won't be a Council left to govern!"

Another councilor, a towering amphibious being named Rylok, retorted sharply. "You think I don't see that? But what do you propose? Surrender? Appeasement? Galvatron isn't some warlord we can bribe with territories. He wants it all!"

The room descended into chaos, voices overlapping in an indecipherable cacophony. Varn closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise. His mind raced, replaying reports of fleets obliterated, planets scorched, and citizens reduced to ash.

Finally, Councilor Arteaus, the eldest member of the Council, raised his hand. The room fell silent. Arteaus's voice, though aged, carried the weight of authority.

"We must consider... unconventional alliances," he said gravely.

Varn's eyes snapped open. "You mean the Autobots."

Arteaus nodded. "And others, if necessary."

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Location: Galactic Council Central Command – Strategy Room

POV: Admiral Krennar

In the adjacent strategy room, Admiral Krennar poured over tactical displays with his aides. Each screen showed grim statistics: fleet strength dwindling, supply lines severed, reinforcements delayed or destroyed.

"This isn't war," Krennar muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. "It's extermination."

An aide hesitated before speaking. "Admiral, the Council is debating the inclusion of... nontraditional allies."

Krennar turned sharply, his eyes narrowing. "The Autobots?"

"And others," the aide confirmed.

Krennar's fists clenched. "I won't argue against necessity, but let's be clear: relying on Cybertronians to stop other Cybertronians is a gamble. One that could cost us what little we have left."

He turned back to the displays, his gaze hardening. "But if it's the only card we have, we'll play it."

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Location: Verdant Prime – Autobot Settlement POV: Kup

The settlement of Verdant Prime was quiet in the way that only deep space could offer. The lush greenery swayed under soft winds, and the hum of energon processors provided a calming background melody. Kup stood on the outskirts, gazing over the tranquil scene.

He exhaled, servos clicking softly. "Peace," he muttered, his voice rasping. "Funny how it never feels like it lasts, even when you've got it."

In the distance, he could see the younger Autobots at work. Hound barked instructions to a group of scouts, his voice steady and authoritative. Moonracer oversaw the energon processing, her optimism as unyielding as ever. Guzzle, ever gruff, carried heavy equipment, muttering complaints about every unnecessary step.

Kup's optics dimmed slightly as he turned back to the settlement. "Too quiet," he muttered under his breath. "Always is before something big."

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Location: Verdant Prime – Outer Perimeter

POV: Scout

The dense foliage of Verdant Prime's perimeter offered cover, but to the scout running at full speed, it felt like an endless gauntlet. His armor was scorched, and his systems crackled with strain.

He stumbled as he reached the settlement boundary, collapsing to his knees. "Help..." he rasped, his voice barely audible.

Kup appeared first, his movements surprisingly quick for his age. He knelt beside the scout, gripping his shoulder. "Easy, son," Kup said, steadying him. "What's got you running like a turbofox out of Kaon?"

The scout's optics flickered weakly. "Decepticons..."

The word hung in the air, louder than any scream.

Kup's optics narrowed. "You sure about that, kid? You'd better not be fraggin' with me."

"Whole fleets," the scout stammered. Worlds burning. The Galactic Council... they can't stop them. They're everywhere."

Kup's grip tightened, but he didn't let the growing pit in his spark show. "Moonracer!" he barked over his comms. "Get this bot patched up!"

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Location: Verdant Prime – Autobot Meeting Hall POV: Kup

The meeting hall was dim, its interior filled with the quiet hum of data terminals. Kup leaned heavily on the central table, his optics fixed on the scout's report projected above. The details were sparse, but the weight of them was undeniable.

"They're back," Kup muttered. "Decepticons."

The room's silence was broken by Hound, who crossed his arms tightly. "How? The remaining 'Cons scattered after the Megatron and Optimus vanished along with the Ark and the Nemesis through that wormhole."

"This ain't Megatron," Kup replied sharply. "Whatever's out there now... it's worse. Kid says they've got fleets burning worlds. Galactic Council's running scared. You think some splinter faction can pull that off?"

Guzzle slammed a fist into the table. "I knew it! I knew this peace wouldn't last! Should've fortified this planet the moment we landed!"

Moonracer's voice was softer, trembling slightly. "But why now? Why come back after all this time?"

Kup looked up, his optics burning with a mix of anger and exhaustion. "Because we left," he said simply. "They've got no one to stop them."

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Location: Verdant Prime – Autobot Square

POV: Moonracer

The sound of engines overhead drew the entire settlement's attention. The Autobots gathered as a sleek Galactic Council envoy ship descended, its polished hull glinting in the sunlight. Its presence alone was enough to send unease rippling through the crowd.

The ship's ramp extended, and a humanoid envoy stepped forward, flanked by armed guards. They paused, surveying the gathered Autobots.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Moonracer's hand tightened around her energon rifle, her optics darting to Kup, who stood motionless.

The envoy continued. "We need you're help entire fleets have been destroyed. Whole sectors lie in ruin. The Council's defenses are crumbling."

Hound stepped forward, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You're serious? The Decepticons? After everything we fought through—after Cybertron?"

"This is not the Decepticons you remember," the envoy replied. "They are stronger. Unified under a new leader: Lord Galvatron the leader of the New Decepticon Empire."

The name struck like a thunderbolt. Kup's optics darkened, his fists clenching at his sides.

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Location: Verdant Prime – Autobot Meeting Hall POV: Kup

Back in the meeting hall, the tension was palpable. The Autobot leaders sat in silence, the weight of the envoy's words pressing down on them like a crushing tide.

Kup broke the silence, his voice low and bitter. "The Galactic Council. The same ones that turned their backs on Cybertron. And now they're crawling to us, asking for help?"

"We have no choice," the envoy said evenly. "Neither do you. If the Decepticons continue on their current trajectory they'll bulldoze through this planet into our Core, they will come for you next."

Moonracer looked to Kup, her voice trembling. "Kup... if they're really that strong..."

"They are," Kup cut her off. "The kid's report was clear. We're looking at a whole new war."

Guzzle slammed his fist into the table again. "Then what're we waiting for? Let's take the fight to them!"

Kup shook his head. "We're not ready for this. Not yet." He turned to the envoy, his optics narrowing. "But I'll tell you this: we'll fight. Not for you, and not for your Council. For them." He gestured toward the settlement outside.

Kup's weathered face as he responded added, "They're back. And this time... I don't know if we'll survive."

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Location: Galactic Fringe – Derelict Outpost

POV: Lockdown

The outpost hung in the void like a carcass stripped of its flesh. It had been abandoned for years, its once-imposing defenses now little more than rusted relics. Debris drifted lazily around it, the remnants of long-forgotten battles.

To Lockdown, it was perfect.

His ship, the Nightmare's Prize, dwarfed the ruined station. Its sleek black hull shimmered faintly under the starlight, bristling with weapons and sensors. Inside, Lockdown stood on the bridge, his imposing frame backlit by the faint glow of his control panels. His scarred face was calm, but his optics burned with calculated intent.

"Report," he growled, his voice gravelly but measured.

A hunter drone hovered at his side, its single optic blinking. "Council convoy intercepted in Sector Delta. Cargo includes weapons, rations, and high-priority personnel."

Lockdown tilted his head, his mouth curling into a thin smirk. "Priority personnel? Interesting. Send the coordinates to the Prize's targeting systems. We'll intercept."

The drone hesitated. "And... the cargo, sir?"

Lockdown turned, his optics narrowing. "Cargo's expendable."

"Sir, there requesting to board," the officer said. "They claim to have a proposal."

Lockdown leaned back in his chair, his frame imposing even in stillness. "A proposal? That's bold for them. Let them aboard. Let's see how desperate they really are."

Moments later, the Galactic Council envoy entered the bridge. The envoy, dressed in pristine robes that contrasted starkly with the grimy, war-torn vessel, carried themselves with practiced authority. Their face betrayed no fear, but their eyes revealed the strain of their mission.

"Lockdown," the envoy began, their voice measured and commanding. "You know why I'm here."

Lockdown rose from his seat, towering over the envoy. "I might," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "But why don't you enlighten me? I do love a good story."

The envoy stepped forward, undeterred by the hulking mercenary. "The Galactic Council is in need of your... expertise. We are prepared to offer you substantial compensation in exchange for your services."

Lockdown chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "Substantial, huh? You'd better be more specific. I don't work for scraps."

The envoy's expression hardened. "Galvatron's forces are tearing through our fleets. If we don't act now, the Council's authority will crumble. You have the skills, the firepower, and the ruthlessness we require. Name your price."

Lockdown circled the envoy slowly, his optics glinting. "You come to me, begging for help, because you're too weak to handle him yourselves. Tell me, envoy, what makes you think I won't just take what I want and leave you to burn?"

The envoy's gaze didn't falter. "Because you're smarter than that. Galvatron isn't someone you can outgun or outmaneuver. He's not a Decepticon warlord looking to carve out a territory—he's aiming for total domination. And once he's done with the Council, he'll come for you."

Lockdown stopped, his optics narrowing. The envoy pressed on.

"You could side with Galvatron," they said. "But you know he doesn't tolerate competition. Eventually, he'll turn on you. Work with us, and you'll have the freedom to operate as you please. No oversight. No interference."

Lockdown's smirk returned. "Freedom, huh? That's a nice way of saying I'd be cleaning up your mess."

The envoy met his gaze evenly. "Freedom... and wealth. More than you've ever seen."

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension palpable. Then Lockdown laughed, a sharp, cruel sound that echoed through the bridge.

"I like you, envoy," he said. "You've got guts. But I don't trust you. So here's what's going to happen: I'll think about your offer. But if I catch a whiff of betrayal..."

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. "...I'll decorate this ship with your bones."

The envoy nodded, their composure intact. "I look forward to your answer, Lockdown."

As the envoy was escorted back to their ship, Lockdown turned to his crew, his smirk fading into a cold, calculating expression.

"Send a message to Galvatron's fleet," he said. "Tell them Lockdown's open for business. Let's see who offers more."

Meanwhile, Lockdown stood aboard the bridge of his ship, his optics fixed on a holographic display of the Galactic Council's transmission. His second-in-command waited nervously as Lockdown mulled over the envoy's offer.

"They're desperate," Lockdown said finally, his voice dripping with amusement. "Offering me freedom and wealth like I'm some two-credit mercenary. Still... they're right about one thing."

He turned, his smirk fading into a cold, calculating expression. "Galvatron doesn't tolerate competition. If I side with the Council, I'll bleed them dry for every credit they've got. And if I side with Galvatron... well, we'll see how much he's willing to pay to keep me out of his way."

The lieutenant hesitated. "And if neither side pays enough?"

Lockdown's smirk returned. "Then we'll take what we want."

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Location: Galactic Council Central Command – High Council Chambers

POV: Councilor Varn

Back in the Council chambers, the debate raged on. Arteaus addressed the room, his voice unwavering despite his frail frame.

"The Autobots will not come easily but they do owe the Council for their planet they occupy," he said. "But if we do nothing, Galvatron will carve through our core worlds like a blade through flesh."

Varn leaned forward, his talons clicking against the table. "And what of Lockdown? He's already proven himself willing to play both sides. Bringing him into this war could be as dangerous as leaving him out of it."

Arteaus met Varn's gaze. "We don't have the luxury of choice anymore."

The room fell silent as Arteaus's words sank in. Finally, Varn nodded. "Then we proceed. Autobots, mercenaries, whoever we can get. If the Council is to survive, we'll need every weapon at our disposal this Council has stood for a millennia since the first war against Nova Prime this Council has withstood the full might of Cybertron before WE WILL NOT LOSE!"

"WE WILL NOT LOSE" Chanted throughout the chamber.

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