AUTHOR'S NOTES

Hello, readers! As a heads up, this story will contain a large combination of elements from both Trigun Maximum and the Trigun anime and the Beast Era continuity of the Transformers universe with ideas from the Super-God Masterforce anime and references to original Generation 1 timeline (phew!). I'll try my best to explain things so that people who are unfamiliar with either Trigun or the Transformers or the specific continuities will understand. If you still have trouble understanding, I'd suggest visiting TFWiki or Trigun Wiki for clarification—they are very helpful databases—or even better, read/watch the source material.

I hope you'll enjoy this crossover!

PROLOGUE

Sector 4219 was home to a most dreadfully empty and barren planet, devoid of nearly any life. It was a wonder this was classified as an organic planet. The only living things seemed to be the monstrous worm-like creatures that lived below the sands and the strange feathered beasts that scrounged about in herds.

A sentient mechanical being who went by Grader, alien to this planet, traced circles in the sand with a metal finger. He and his teammate leaned against the hull of their spacecraft in meager shadow. The prolonged exposure to the heat of the desert was beginning to wreak havoc with their internal systems. It was probably the presence of the double-sun that was responsible. Twice the radiation equaled twice the problems.

Grader flicked sand off of his digit with the robot equivalent of a sigh. He was lean in appearance, but his build suggested he was a considerable fighter. His coloring ranged from dark gray to black, blending him well with shadow—the only part of his body that exhibited color were his steely-blue optics.

"Slag. You'd think they'd send us back to Cybertron by now," he complained. "There's nothing worthwhile here."

The other mech, Dicrux—a tall, strong thing with sandy coloring—nodded once in agreement. This 'bot was rather quiet in nature, but he fully agreed. The only thing this planet was good for was getting grit stuck in a 'bots's chassis. He shielded his optics from the double-sun as he stared up into the deep blue sky.

"I hope we'll go back soon," Dicrux said in a barely audible voice. He leaned his head against his servo and glanced over at Grader. "I don't like it here."

A sudden transmission from their commanding officer, Crossstriker, cut off Grader before he could reply.

"All units report to the bridge."

"Ah! We can finally get out of this damn heat!" Grader beamed. "Maybe they've come to their senses and are finally sending us home!"

Dicrux grinned and the two of them bounded towards the entrance.

…

The news was far from what Grader and Dicrux had expected.

"I've detected a group of crafts heading straight for this planet," explained Howldraft, the team's communications specialist. The team had gathered about the monitors at his station with the two youngest 'bots right in front.

"More Predacons?" asked Grader eagerly. "Maximals?"

"Neither." Howldraft tweaked several dials, bringing to the screen an image of foreign spacecraft, adorned with equally foreign symbols. "From the readings they're giving off, these are carbon-based life forms. Organics."

Dicrux blinked slowly. "Organics?" he repeated softly, sounding almost confused.

"They should be no problem," Grader grinned, "We can get rid of them easily!"

Crossstriker cuffed him. "No, Grader. Think a bit before you act." The commander tapped his head with a stern glance at the younger Predacon. "Some of the organics aboard these ships are giving off incredible energy readings. It's highly likely we could utilize these organics' power to make energon."

Grader and Dicrux exchanged glances. If their team returned to Cybertron with a healthy supply of energon for the Predacon resistance, there'd be no doubt that they'd see a promotion from scrappy exploration team to warriors. And maybe, they'd finally get their official assignment of rank—at their age, they were only at an apprentices' level. Like any young Predacon, they were eager to rise in the ranks.

"For now, we'll track their progress until they land," Crossstriker said. "Then we'll investigate." He turned face and exited the bridge, dismissing his crew. "Back to your posts."

All thoughts of wanting to go home were gone from Grader and Dicrux's processors. Instead, they were replaced with dreams of glory…

…

It was several solar-cycles later when the alien crafts landed. Something seemingly had gone wrong as some of the ships had begun to fall apart and crash brokenly on to the sands. Nonetheless, a good number had survived.

Crossstriker had taken Grader and Dicrux with him to investigate the nearest fallen ship for the mystery energy source. The mission would take the two Predacons off of their least favorite task of guard duty. Being the youngest members of the team automatically gave them the least desirable jobs, but an upside was that they got to be trained by a seasoned warrior like Crossstriker.

The nearest ship was rather far away from the Predacon's craft. Even in jet mode, it took the three 'bots a good portion of the solar-cycle to get there. Grader was glad he wasn't the one guiding them—navigating was hard in the monotonous desert, and the double-sun messed with his navigational systems. In other words, he'd be hopelessly lost.

Soon, a metal behemoth reared up in the distance—the ship.

"Organics built that?" Grader gasped in awe. It was bigger than the Predacon teams' ship. And there were so many of these organic ships... It was really quite amazing to Grader and Dicrux that organic creatures were capable of building ships of that caliber.

Crossstriker gave the order to land and transform. "Now, we don't want these organics to see us or hear us. For all they know, we aren't here. Stay out of their sights, but keep them in yours," he instructed. "From now on, we communicate through our internal comm-links."

The mechs followed the command. Silently, they peered over the dune, which was more of a high-walled crater in the sand formed by the impact of the ship. The organic creatures clustered about the ship's wreck looked small, pitiful. How did they even build such a ship, Grader wondered.

But Crossstriker soon realized these were the creatures from the planet Earth, where their ancestors, the Autobots and Decepticons, had fought the Great War stellar-cycles before—human beings.

"We don't underestimate humans," he told Grader and Dicrux.

The Predacons silently observed the humans for the next five solar-cycles. In this time, the powerful life forms that had been detected by Howldraft were finally sighted. They were contained in large bulbs of some type. The organisms themselves were of indiscriminate shapes, though the energy readings they gave off were frighteningly powerful. Crossstriker took a schematic, which was sent to Rotor, the team's science officer, to examine.

Rotor responded shortly after and explained that these organisms were capable of producing vast amounts of matter that could be utilized to help a race of organisms survive, including energon.

That was news they wanted to hear.

The only problem was that they needed the humans' knowledge of how to retrieve the energy from these beings. Predacons did not have extensive datatrax on organic creatures and how their systems worked—their concerns were mainly about mechanical beings. Namely, themselves.

Crossstriker decided upon a plan of action to obtain this vital information about the life forms. They were going to employ Pretender technology to live amongst the humans and learn how to harvest the energy from the organisms.

Becoming a Pretender was much different then simply taking on a new alternate mode, as well as much more difficult. It meant bonding one's coding with a special shell that would convert the Transformer to the equivalent of the organism it was on a molecular level. It not only made the most possibly convincing disguise, but hid the fact that they were robots from fellow Cybertronians.

This advanced technology, though, was kept under wraps by the Maximal High Council—in the wrong hands, Pretender technology could be horribly misused. A variation the technology was distributed to better take on alternate forms of organic creatures.

But, as could be expected, this potent technology was no longer of top secret status: a Predacon double-agent and swindler had secured and secretly sold the datatrax on Pretender technology to Predacons who offered enough energon.

Crossstriker had been one of the buyers.

Grader and Dicrux were once again chosen to accompany him on their commander on this mission. Being younger and more impressionable, the two mechs would better be able to take on characteristics of the humans. The more believable the disguise, the better chance the Predacons would get what they wanted.

Without a second thought, Grader and Dicrux had bonded to their Pretender shells. The dreams of glory were nearer than ever and the challenge of the mission filled their circuits with exhilaration. All notions of risks were discarded from their processors—there was no time for fear, only for success. And that's just what they'd have.

…

That night, three newcomers appeared among the people from the Project SEEDs cold-sleep ship 3-670. Among the disarray and struggle for survival, their appearance was left unnoticed and unquestioned.

The Predacons' plan had begun.