In a darkened Predacon chamber, a lone figure gave great thought to his current position in the Predacon and Decepticon hierarchy. When they first arrived on earth, SkyByte was second-in-command, the right hand of Megatron. When the Decepticons arrived, the upstart Scourge threatened his position. No, that was not entirely true. His status as a warrior and loyal soldier were threatened before that. The trio of Predacons that Megatron had put under his command were not the brightest of Transformers. Indeed, they were laughable at best, and pathetic at worst. With limited time and resources, Megatron had only time to recruit Slapper, Gas Skunk, and Darkscream. SkyByte had other names for the Predacon cousins, but they were unworthy of a warrior philosopher such as he. Still, with the Predacons to his left, and the Decepticons to his right, Skybyte knew how his situation would end.

Death or disgrace," or, he thought more darkly, "perhaps both." The Predacon paced the chamber rapidly, knocking over items in anger.

"Perhaps Megatron would be more satisfied with that traitorous Starscream at his backside once again. Why can Megatron not appreciate my loyalty? My power? My intelligence?" Again the Predacon thought of his current predicament, and how it affected his position.

"Predacon incompetents and incredibly powerful Decepticons. How can I turn this situation to my advantage? How can I change the balance of power?" A smile suddenly began to cross over the mammoth machine's mouth. A thought and a single word blazed through his mind.

"Power."

To Be Continued!