I need to clarify something before we go any further. The universe the Maximals and Predacons came from in this story is not the exact same one from the original cartoon; aka the G1 cartoon universe. Rather it is one of my own creation, which draws influence from the G1 cartoon universe, the Japanese cartoon universe, the Marvel comics universe, the Aliened Continuity universe and the IDW Publications universe. With that said, Pokémon is the property of Nintendo, Gamefreak and several other companies, while Beast Wars and all other Transformers related media is the property of Hasbro and Takara Tomy. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda. Enjoy.

Chapter 7: Comparing Notes

"You know something, Brock?" Ash said to his older friend as the two of them sat on the couch in Professor Oak's living room, eating some of his mother's delicious homemade onigiri, surrounded by sentient, shapeshifting robots from another planet. "This is probably the weirdest thing that's ever happened to us."

"Oh, I don't know." The elder trainer replied casually. "That time Misty and I got turned into dolls was pretty out there, if you ask me."

"Hmm… true. But this is still a close second."

"Then there was that time we all got transported into Larvitar's mind."

"Third then."

"Not to mention that time we got sucked into the internet with that Porygon."

"Did that really happen?" the young trainer asked surprisedly. "I thought that was just a dream I had that weekend I had a fever."

"No, Ash, it was real. Remember, it happened right after we met Duplica."

"Oh… neat." Ash replied, still a little confused as to why he didn't have a clear memory of the event. "Well what about that time I got turned to stone and was brought back to life by Pokémon tears? Was that real or a fever dream?"

"That one was probably a fever dream."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Back it up there, Cupcake." Said the Maximal Rattrap a short distance away; addressing their good friend May. "So you're tellin' me that as soon as a kid turns 10, they get to go off into the world, completely unsupervised, sleep outside and in hotels, and pick fights with random strangers usin' superpowered pets you keep in little balls on your belt?"

"That's right." May answered bluntly; apparently oblivious to the negative connotations the Maximal was placing on her chosen path. "On Earth we call it a Pokémon Journey."

"Oh yeah, well you know what we call it back on Cybertron?"

"No, what?"

"Bad parenting!"

A sudden commotion on the other side of the room drew Ash's attention away from this conversation and onto another. Somehow, presumably through the nearby window, a mysterious Delibird had entered the room and landed near the captive Team Rocket.

"Hold it right there!" barked the Maximal Houndor, who just happened to be guarding the prisoners. "This is a secure area. Show me some identification."

"Deli! Deli-Deli!" the Delivery Pokémon replied, sounding more than a little irritated by the Maximal's interference.

"Relax, Fido. It's just the Team Rocket Delibird." Jessie spoke up, also sounding a little annoyed. "It's how we send secret messages to each other. It probably has a letter for us from HQ. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Deli! Deli!" the little Santa-bird said excitedly as it reached into its sack-like tail, pulled out a white envelope with a big red 'R' and then handed it to Jessie. "Deli! Deli! Deli!"

And with that done, the tiny intruder leaped into the air and flew back out the window.

"Ugh. My fingers don't work right with these cuffs on." The redheaded female said before turning to her jailer. "Hey, Spot. Mind opening this for us?"

"Well… alright." Houdor said reluctantly. "But no funny business."

It took a bit of effort, but eventually the canine Maximal managed to open the envelope with his teeth and pull out the letter without damaging it too much. Then, after unfolding it and setting it down on the floor, he began to read it aloud.

"Dear Team Rocket Unit 2978-96-4812-B. It is with only the slightest hint of satisfaction that I have composed this letter to inform you that all members of your unit, human and Pokémon alike, are officially discharged from the organization, effective immediately."

"What!" exclaimed Jessie disbelievingly. "You mean we're fired?"

"Surely this must be some kind of mistake." Said James. "I mean, what could we have possibly done to deserve this?"

"Ain't it obvious?" Meowth jumped in sharply. "He musta found out youse two blew our first real paycheck in two years on movies and fancy nuts!"

"Actually, it says it's because you guys haven't pulled off a successful caper in over three years and that he never much cared for any of you to begin with."

"Oh, now that's just cold." Jessie said, her feelings clearly hurt by the sheer callousness of the letter. "Does it say anything else?"

"Let's see…" the young Maximal said as he began to speedread the rest of the message. "Blah. Blah. Blah. Disgrace to the organization. Yadda. Yadda. Other mean stuff. Oh, here we go. Enclosed is a check for approximately 20,000 dollars. I realize this is a slightly abnormal amount for a severance package after only 5 ½ years of service, but if it means finally ridding myself of you pathetic, incompetent wastes of human and Pokémon life, then it will be worth every penny. Please take it and never darken my door again. Sincerely, Your Ex-employer, Giovani Stiletto. P.S. Please keep in mind that by choosing to accept this money, you are hereby forfeiting your rights and the rights of any and all possible descendants to reenlist with the organization for the next two generations. P.P.S. If any of you even attempt to leak any classified intel regarding this organization to any form of law enforcement agency, I will personally see to it that you are hunted down and beaten to death with your own shoes. Dang. This guy is harsh."

By this point, the three ex-professional criminals were quietly sobbing over the loss of the job they all loved so dearly. However, a few minutes later, they all stopped crying when they collectively remembered one particular detail of the letter their brains hadn't fully processed before.

"Wait a second." Jessie spoke up, speaking on behalf of the group. "Did you say 20,000 dollars?"

Having never had much interest in Team Rocket's personal lives, Ash soon shifted his focus to another part of the room. Specifically, the table on the far side opposite the sofa. There he saw Prof. Oak and Tracey, along with the Maximals Backstop and Optimus Primal, talking about something he couldn't quite overhear. Ever the curious type, he decided to stand up and walk over to see what was going on; his faithful Pikachu coming along for the ride on his shoulder.

Once he was there, he saw that they were all looking at the Professor's laptop, which was currently displaying the image of a very familiar Pokémon.

"That's it." Said Backstop, gesturing toward the still photo on the screen. "That's the thing that attacked us."

"A Rayquaza? Oh dear." The old researcher said concernedly. "They're part of a very special classification known as Legendary Pokémon. Very rare and very powerful. You boys are lucky to be alive."

"He's not kidding. I've seen one of those before." Ash spoke up, only slightly startling everyone. "A couple of Deoxys passed through Earth's atmosphere and it just went berserk. Attacked a city and everything."

"Yes, I remember hearing about that on the news. Rayquaza are an elusive lot. They spend almost all their lives in the ozone layer and they only leave when they fell their territory is threatened."

"That explains a lot." Backstop added musingly. "The one we saw must've mistook our ships for living things trying to encroach on its territory."

"Either that, or it sensed the hostile intent coming from the Predacons' ship." Optimus speculated.

"Pred-a-cons?" Tracey repeated the strange word as if he needed to see how it felt on his tongue. "You've mentioned them before. What are they? Another species of alien?"

"Eh… not exactly." Optimus answered uneasily. "They're Cybertronians like us, and physically I suppose we're exactly the same, but… well, it's just all so complicated."

"Better give 'em the abridged version then." Backstop suggested.

"Sigh… very well." The Maximal Commander said reluctantly, pausing for a few moments to try and find the right words. "You see, a long time ago, our planet Cybertron became embroiled in a vicious civil war that essentially polarized the entire population. At first it was all about dueling ideologies and questions about what should or shouldn't be done for the good of the people. But before long it became about one side asserting dominance over the other and scrambling over dwindling resources. It brought our people to the very brink of extinction, and even then it didn't stop."

"My word…" Professor Oak said, sounding totally aghast.

"Yes, and I'm afraid it only got worse from there." Optimus continued. "When our home planet was depleted, our ancestors took to the stars in search of new resources, and the war spread across the galaxy like a plague. Other species became involved in the conflict and the fighting just grew worse and worse, until finally the two sides reached an agreement, but only after four million years of war."

"Four million!" the Professor exclaimed, possibly without meaning to. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to judge, but… four million years. I just… I can't even imagine."

Neither could Ash. Throughout his travels he had heard stories of terrible wars in the ancient past. Tales of fields and villages burned to the ground, of meadows and glens turning into mass graveyards, of kingdoms spending decades preparing for battles that were over before lunchtime. But the idea of two sides hating each other enough to fight for over four million years… well it was just too much for his young mind to handle.

"I don't blame you for your horrified expressions." Optimus said, seeming to address everyone at once. "It's an ugly stain on our history, and even after three centuries of peace, there are still many species in the galaxy who want nothing to do with us. There are even some groups out there like the Black Block Consortia who'd like nothing better than to see us all wiped out."

"Understandable." The Professor admitted, before going on to elaborate. "But not quite fair, if you ask me. It just doesn't seem right to condemn an entire species for the actions of their ancestors. Especially if they're actively trying to make amends as you all seem to be."

"That's very kind of you, Professor." The lead Maximal replied gratefully. "I wish there were more beings in this universe like you."

"Thank you. So these Predacons you spoke of, they were the losing party in the ancient war?"

"I'll field this one. Post war history was always my specialty." Backstop said, apparently wanting to get in on the conversation. "It's like this, when our ancestors, the Autobots, finally defeated their enemies, the Decepticons, they gave them a number of concessions in order to keep the peace. For starters, they were allowed to remain a separate, autonomous faction and to keep some of the territory they'd conquered on Cybertron to use as a homeland. They were even given equal representation on the new council they set up to run the place. But over time, it became clear that the galaxy at large wouldn't be so quick to forget the horrors of the Great War. So over the next couple of centuries, both sides tried to distance themselves from their ancestors as best they could. As technology advanced, we became smaller, less intimidating, and adopted the practice of using organic lifeforms for our alternate modes instead of vehicles. Eventually, both sides even changed their names. Autobots became Maximals and Decepticons became Predacons."

"I think I understand now." Professor Oak said, stroking his chin as both Ash and Tracey nodded in agreement. "But if there's been over three centuries of peace between your two factions, then why were you trying to shoot each other in the upper atmosphere?"

"Well, the peace has always been tenuous at best." The Aggron Maximal explained. "There's always been lingering resentment on both sides, but usually it only amounted to a barroom brawl or a screaming match over a parking space. But then one day, everything changed."

"What happened?" asked Ash, who had become very invested in the story.

"Well, it all started about fifteen years ago. Little by little, over the course of three deca-cycles, all the Predacons on the High Council were removed from power and replaced by a separate, much smaller council that would govern the Predacon States autonomously, but that could not make any changes in policy without a unanimous vote from the Main Council."

"Sounds to me like the Maximal Leaders were trying to remove the Predacons from the Governing Body of the planet and make them subservient all in one fell swoop." The old researcher speculated.

"That's exactly what they were doing and the Predacons all knew it. No sooner had the Maximal Elders set up their puppet Tripredacus Council then did average citizens start to take up arms. Lots of rioting and widespread looting, but most of it spontaneous and disorganized. Nothing to really suggest a full-scale uprising. That is, until a few days ago, when a small band of Predacon criminals, led by a previously unknown bot calling himself Megatron, broke into the high security vaults of New Iacon and stole one of our planet's most heavily guarded treasures. The Golden Disk."

"The Golden Disk? What's that?" asked Ash, before realizing how stupidly he'd worded the question. "I mean besides a disk made of gold, obviously."

"Short version, it's a very old, fairly primitive recording device." Optimus answered, clearly wanting to get back into the conversation. "As to what was recorded on it, no one's really sure. All the information it contained was heavily encoded by whomever created it. Although, the popular theory was that it was a map left by the Decepticons to lead their descendants to a planet rich with natural resources. That's what this Megatron clown seemed to believe anyway, and given everything that's happened since the theft, it would appear that he was right."

"So this Megatron guy went through all this trouble to steal a treasure map and it led him here?" Ash said aloud, feeling quite confused. "I'm sorry, but I just don't get it."

"I think I do." Tracey jumped in, starting to sound a little bit like the Professor. "Right now, the Predacons on Cybertron are angry. Angry at the Maximals and at their own leaders. Angry enough to resort to violence, but at the moment they're directionless and without resources. All they need is a charismatic general to come along with a plan and enough guns and they'd all jump on his bandwagon."

"Yes, and with Earth's natural resources, this Megatron fellow could do just that." The Professor speculated. "Rubber, aluminum, petroleum, super alloys and even radioactive materials. He could harvest our planet hollow to make guns and warships and who knows what else."

"And then the Great War starts all over again." Backstop finished, echoing the sense of dread that had suddenly overcome himself and the three humans present.

"Now let's not throw in the towel just yet." Optimus jumped back in, clearly trying to raise everyone's spirits. "We don't even know if the Predacons are still alive after their encounter with that Rayquaza creature. And even if they didn't suffer any casualties, the report clearly stated that there were only six criminals involved in the heist, so for the moment they lack the manpower needed to do much of anything. Let alone start strip mining the planet."

Ash was about to ask Optimus what he'd meant by 'for the moment they lack the manpower', but before he could his mother interrupted.

"Pie's done~" the older woman singsonged as she strolled into the room like a professional waitress with a tray in each hand. "Here you go, boys. I thought you all might want a little snack after lunch."

Then, with a shocking amount of skill and dexterity, she quickly placed a plate carrying a slice of strawberry pie topped with vanilla ice cream, complete with knife and fork, in front of each of them, without spilling so much as a crumb.

"Enjoy~"

"I keep telling you, Mrs. Ketchum. They're robots. They don't eat." Said Max in his annoying know-it-all tone as he returned from the kitchen; having previously volunteered to help the older woman out with her pie so he wouldn't have to be around their 'guests'.

"Actually, when we're in Beast Mode our bodies can convert organic matter into emergency fuel. So in a sense, we can eat." Backstop explained, much to the younger boy's clear annoyance. "And thank you very much, Mrs. Ketchum. We really appreciate the gesture."

With that said, Maximal Aggron tried to grab a fork and dig in, but his relatively stubby arms and irregular body proportions made that somewhat difficult. After several failed attempts, Backstop just gave up and wolfed the whole thing down like the animal he was impersonating.

"Ah… De-licious."

"Uh… thank you." Mrs. Ketchum replied, clearly a little put off by the act.

"You know, you might have better luck if you were in Robot Mode." Ash suggested politely. "I mean, we've already seen what you really look like, so there's really no point in staying like this."

"Maybe so, but just the same, we'll stay in Beast Mode." Optimus replied. "You see, these forms aren't just for disguises. They're to protect us from your planet's Energon Fields."

"Our what fields?" asked our main hero confusedly.

"Energon. It's the single most important element in Cybertronian Society. We use it to power just about everything. It's the main reason Megatron came here." The Lead Maximal clarified. "The radiation it emits is harmless to organic lifeforms, but there's just so much of it on your planet that our robot forms will start to short out after a few minutes exposure. If left unchecked, it could be fatal."

"Well I've certainly never heard of this Energon stuff before." Max said suspiciously. "It sounds made up to me."

"We probably just know it by a different name." Professor Oak speculated. "Tell me, what does this… Energon look like?"

"When it's been processed, it's a semi-clear viscous fluid." Optimus explained. "But in its natural state, it resembles a large glowing crystal. Usually blue, but it can also be red, purple and even green. Does that sound like anything you've seen before, Professor?"

The old researcher stroked his chin and thought for a moment before he answered.

"Maybe."

End Notes:

Man, this was a tough one to edit. But so worth it in the end.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next one.

Peace.