Primal Fire

Chapter Fifteen: New Blood

Predaking fumed over the outcome of the battle. How dare his older brother take his army away. How dare he steal the mate Shockwave said was meant for him.

Predaking paced back and forth within his dark, cavernous lair, his massive claws scraping against the stone floor with each step. His tail lashed with frustration, sending small rocks tumbling across the cave. The shadows flickered as the dim light from the entrance danced with the movements of his agitated form.

He stopped abruptly, his fierce eyes narrowing as he focused on a half-crumbled wall depicting ancient Predacon lore. "Wheeljack thinks he can undermine me," he growled to himself, the sound echoing ominously through the cavern. "He thinks he can inspire a rebellion against me and turn my own kin..."

The heavy flap of wings interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see Shockpick descending into the lair. The smaller Predacon landed gracefully despite his size and bowed respectfully before Predaking.

"My lord," Shockpick began, his voice cautious, "Shockwave has returned."

"I will go see what our creator wants now." Predaking said, still agitated but knowing better than to keep Shockwave waiting.

Predaking transformed into his bipedal form and strode out of the lair, his steps heavy with both the burden of leadership and the sting of betrayal. Shockpick followed, flitting through the shadows like a ghost eager to avoid the wrath of his king.

As they made their way through the winding passages that led to the main chamber of their Wheyr, Predaking's mind churned with thoughts of vengeance and power. He would not submit to his brother; he was a king—a king that would not be manipulated or undermined.

When they reached the designated meeting area, Shockwave was already there, waiting with an aura of impassive control that contrasted starkly with Predaking's simmering rage. The large, cyclopean Decepticon turned his single glowing optic on Predaking as he approached.

"Predaking," Shockwave greeted, his voice devoid of any emotion. "It is imperative that we discuss your role in the upcoming strategies against Wheeljack's faction."

Predaking managed to bring his rage to heel before he responded. "Of course, creator."

Shockwave looked to his computer console. "Due to recent Autobot and rogue Predacon attacks, we no longer have the resources to sustain more Predacons than we have already created. We will not be making more. Those you have are all we can support."

Predaking's eyes flashed dangerously at the news, his stance shifting as he processed the implications. "You would leave us undermanned and underequipped against our enemies?" His voice was low, a rumble of contained fury.

Shockwave remained unmoved, his tone clinical as always. "It is not a matter of choice but of necessity. The resources required to create and sustain Predacons are substantial. However, I believe your current forces are more than capable of achieving victory if strategically deployed."

"There must be another way," Predaking insisted, his tail lashing behind him in frustration. "Can we not divert some of the Decepticon resources to bolster our ranks?"

"That is not possible at this time," Shockwave replied curtly. "Megatron has decreed that all available resources are to be allocated towards fortifying our positions against the Autobots. Your mission is to maintain control of this region and keep Wheeljack's forces at bay with what you have. As it stands, you outnumber his forces."

Predaking felt the weight of Shockwave's words press down on him, and the bitterness of his brother's betrayal surged anew in his veins. "Outnumbering them is one thing," he snapped, his voice echoing with the authority he demanded, "but it is not enough. I need justice for the treachery that has been wrought against me!"