True Leadership )-Predaking x Youngling Reader-(

New Management

         "We simply cannot allow you to run a planet wide search," Bumblebee exclaimed for the seventh time in fifteen minutes. "If it's as buried as you believe it is the bone yard is no longer bones, it's star dust!"

         "I asked for land to place my tribe freely, to build a new foundation for Predacons and you gave it gladly. Now I ask to make my tribe complete, to finish a broken history and you deny me this?"

The council of Autobots- though not an official council, it was what the common people dubbed them- shook their helms.

         "Think rationally, Predaking," Knockout sighed, "There's a city on nearly every inch of Cybertron now. The chances of you finding this graveyard are slim but if you do, the chances of you finding it beneath a newly built city is far greater."

     The largest bot in the room huffed. He believed they would be ecstatic when he suggested the patching together of all their history. He had practiced with the only friend of their kind he had, a small bot named Tapper who would occasionally bring an odd substance called Visco. It made Predaking's thoughts hazy and he didn't much care for it, but Tapper said he needed the natural relaxant when around him.

         "Then let me search the areas uninhabited-"

         "How about uninhabitable?" Arcee sighed, "Cybertron is developing it's old terrain again. The toxic wastes are nearly the only place you could look anymore, and the Sea of Rust has had a flooding problem for several Earth years now."

         "I have known this, it encroaches on my people's land," Predaking growled.

         "Speaking of, why haven't we seen a single dwelling built on the surface?" Bulkhead questioned, "The reason why we offered you the original bone yard and past is because we believed you'd be creating entire communities."

         "We'd be happy to take it back," Knockout chuckled condescendingly.

         "My people are uneasy," Predaking muttered, "They dislike the tension between them and your own kind."

         "Predaking, there's always going to be dirt in the energon purifier," Bumblebee explained softly, "We can't control every single bot, that would cause another war. Only we'd be the Decepticons."

         "I have explained this to them!" The beast slammed his fist into a wall, "No utopian world can be achieved, for we all have or malfunctions, impurities and biases; theirs is that they do not listen!"

         "Then clearly," Wheeljack started, having been there to celebrate the planet's rebirth two days before, "they're wanting new management."

To this Predaking growled, storming out of the small meeting area and throwing the doors open, not bothering to close them as he began to run, transforming and bursting into the air, disturbing air traffic patterns in his rage.

     A new leader his left wing. Predaking was the owner of that title, and they listened. To an extent, but he didn't seem to have the wherewithal to convince them to smooth out relations with the Autobots and their numerous citizens. He's tried everything but scare tactics, and he didn't want to completely resort to that- although instincts had forced him to with select mechs of his kingdom. Although he hadn't needed to put anyone in their place since Skystalker, a tiresome mech who was admittedly smarter than Predaking. The Predacon citizens knew exactly how much Predaking was holding back after Skystalker was left offlined and eaten, aside from the single horn that sat on Predaking's shelf.

A new leader- what a load of-

         "Sparks!"

     Predaking heard the call, flying higher as the crowds below cheered. The beast watched the tiny colors from his height, a small burst coming from the well far from the Predacon grounds. He gave a welcoming cry, the only time he could bellow his powerful roar and no one would be unsettled. He remembered the first flurry of sparks, watching them from afar as the Autobots gathered near the Well after their leader sacrificed himself to make Cybertron alive again. Mechs and femmes alike cheered and laughed from below as these sparks zipped around, having fun before following Primus' instruction to find the forge where their bodies awaited them. Predaking let out a low, melancholic hum when no sparks greeted him, nor started in the direction of his tribe. There was once a time at least ten would greet him and follow to be placed in their powerful bodies. Now, the occasional one, maybe two, would happily join his people.

     Landing at the entrance to his home, the king listened to the roars and some laughter below him, though faint. Skylynx and Darksteel were his most trustworthy, but even they preferred the space several miles below- Away from the sounds and sights of the city. Predaking once lived below as well, but he moved up in hopes that his citizens would follow. Only to find they decided to get along just fine without his constant presence. If anything, he thought they seemed happy when he announced the distance he was going, but they had been so cheerful with him around. He wasn't tyrannical, nor unfair, and he dealt justly as he believed a king with well set morals should.

     He did not lie, as the Decepticons did.

     He investigated both sides of a story, as Autobots would.

     And he did not judge without evidence, as both factions did to him.

     So why wasn't his dominance and fair treatment working?

         "I'm fiercer," he looked in his mirror, not something he did often unless feeling like he was now- inadequate, "Wiser, never overbearing, I don't micromanage them as if they were mere pets and," he thought a moment, sighing, "I like to think I can be nice-"

He tried to smile, but only shook his helm, knowing full well he wasn't doing it right.

         "You have freedom and a kingdom. No deceitful tricks played on you as if you were a dumb Earth animal needed to be controled- Why are you dissatisfied?"

     The next word that came to mind was disillusioned.

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Not completely relevant but this is the cannon design for Skystalker.