Beast Wars Beyond

Okay, this is a little tale I made up when I was about ten years old. It's not really in a correct point in time, it's just some point after Beast Machines. I hope you enjoy.
Technorganic Cybertron, 112 A.V. (after Vehicons)
A light blue jet flew over the dark side of Cybertron. Past the billboards, the cheap advertisements, the propaganda of a supposed better world. Not all had excepted the ideas of being a technorganic, some didn't even want peace between the Maximals and Predacons. There could never be peace.
"I have sights on the fugitive" the jet sounded off through his communicator.
"Roger that," the reciever held the form of a green sportscar. "He in robot, beast, or vehicle mode?"
"Vehicle. He's a copter. I'll take him out of the skies, you beat him to the ground."
The jet easily caught up to the rogue copter, which took evasive maneuvers. A machine gun opened on the back of the fugitive and fired upon the jet. The jet unleashed a sonic screech which knocked out the copter's internal systems. It transformed and landed on the ground below the towering skyscrapers.
"Come and face me you cowards! Unicron's will be done!"
The green sportscar appeared around the corner of a building and transformed. The robot shot the gun from the fugitive's hand.
"Unlucky." The green robot held his gun pointed at the fugitive's head.
The jet landed, and transformed. He held a pair of scimitar blades to the fugitive's neck.
"I would like to negotiate your surrender," he told the fugitive.
"Like he has a choice," the green one laughed.
"I'll see you both in the Pit!"
That remark merited the fugitive a bullet in the foot. The jet knocked him out with the blunt of his blade and heaved him over his shoulder.
New Cybertropolis, Capital Building
The pair of bounty hunters dragged the fugitive up the steps of the capital building. A technorganic senator met with them.
"Must you drag your victims through our meetings all the time?"
"You're lucky you have people like us in the first place Senator Longhorn," the green bot spoke. "YOu're even luckier this fugitive ain't dead."
"Easy," spoke the jet. "We'll just take our pay and leave."
Longhorn wrote out a number on a datapad and passed it to them.
"You should really consider a reformatting. Your father would have wanted it for you. I know he left you a long time ago, but he really cared." Longhorn consolled the jet-former.
"No he didn't," the jet scowled. "He cared more for his real son Cheetor. That's why he's Supreme Commander, isn't it? He winds up being my dad's golden boy, so we forsake the past governing system and worship a technorganic cat. Yeah, my father really cared."
The jet and his partner began to leave. Longhorn continued to call after them.
"Why keep his name? Why call yourself Optimus Primal? You're destined for great things, for more than a life as a crummy bounty-hunter. The seeds of the future lie buried in the past Primal, it's destiny..."
They both were gone. Back to the meager livings that Cybertron had to offer in a time of peace.
"So...still mad at you dad?" the green car laughed.
"Shut up," he said.
"Let's go do something, take your mind off of it. I got an idea, why don't we explore the old battlefields?"
Primal looked at his friend, "You have something in mind already don't you?"
"Follow me," the bot transformed and rolled out. He dove into a sewer drain that the warriors of the Beast Machines were so familiar with. After miles of distance was covered he changed into robot mode and climbed to the surface, followed closely by Optimus Primal the Second. Before them was a large Technorganic hill.
"Great, a hill," Primal was not impressed.
"Watch this," the green one laughed. He shot the hill, which was hollow. "This was once the Grand Mal. You wanna see it?"
Primal didn't hesitate, perhaps against his better judgment. They both entered the den of iniquity, once the home of the greatest of evil, the very house of Megatron's spark.
"Creepy isn't it?"
"Only for a weak spark," Primal said. He wasn't truly confident, the very essence of this place could make even Cheetor's spine shake.
"Hey I think I see a light up ahead," the green one went deeper into the Mal. "I think it's a spark..."
A flash of blinding light emerged and the robotic cars began to shake. Primal watched in horror as his body trembled and corroded into gray ash. He ran away from his fallen friend, he transformed and he flew as fast as he could.
His friend, however, did not die. He arose and laughed, eyes glowing a fiery orange.
"Yes..."
Technorganic Cybertron, 112 A.V. (after Vehicons)
A light blue jet flew over the dark side of Cybertron. Past the billboards, the cheap advertisements, the propaganda of a supposed better world. Not all had excepted the ideas of being a technorganic, some didn't even want peace between the Maximals and Predacons. There could never be peace.
"I have sights on the fugitive" the jet sounded off through his communicator.
"Roger that," the reciever held the form of a green sportscar. "He in robot, beast, or vehicle mode?"
"Vehicle. He's a copter. I'll take him out of the skies, you beat him to the ground."
The jet easily caught up to the rogue copter, which took evasive maneuvers. A machine gun opened on the back of the fugitive and fired upon the jet. The jet unleashed a sonic screech which knocked out the copter's internal systems. It transformed and landed on the ground below the towering skyscrapers.
"Come and face me you cowards! Unicron's will be done!"
The green sportscar appeared around the corner of a building and transformed. The robot shot the gun from the fugitive's hand.
"Unlucky." The green robot held his gun pointed at the fugitive's head.
The jet landed, and transformed. He held a pair of scimitar blades to the fugitive's neck.
"I would like to negotiate your surrender," he told the fugitive.
"Like he has a choice," the green one laughed.
"I'll see you both in the Pit!"
That remark merited the fugitive a bullet in the foot. The jet knocked him out with the blunt of his blade and heaved him over his shoulder.
New Cybertropolis, Capital Building
The pair of bounty hunters dragged the fugitive up the steps of the capital building. A technorganic senator met with them.
"Must you drag your victims through our meetings all the time?"
"You're lucky you have people like us in the first place Senator Longhorn," the green bot spoke. "YOu're even luckier this fugitive ain't dead."
"Easy," spoke the jet. "We'll just take our pay and leave."
Longhorn wrote out a number on a datapad and passed it to them.
"You should really consider a reformatting. Your father would have wanted it for you. I know he left you a long time ago, but he really cared." Longhorn consolled the jet-former.
"No he didn't," the jet scowled. "He cared more for his real son Cheetor. That's why he's Supreme Commander, isn't it? He winds up being my dad's golden boy, so we forsake the past governing system and worship a technorganic cat. Yeah, my father really cared."
The jet and his partner began to leave. Longhorn continued to call after them.
"Why keep his name? Why call yourself Optimus Primal? You're destined for great things, for more than a life as a crummy bounty-hunter. The seeds of the future lie buried in the past Primal, it's destiny..."
They both were gone. Back to the meager livings that Cybertron had to offer in a time of peace.
"So...still mad at you dad?" the green car laughed.
"Shut up," he said.
"Let's go do something, take your mind off of it. I got an idea, why don't we explore the old battlefields?"
Primal looked at his friend, "You have something in mind already don't you?"
"Follow me," the bot transformed and rolled out. He dove into a sewer drain that the warriors of the Beast Machines were so familiar with. After miles of distance was covered he changed into robot mode and climbed to the surface, followed closely by Optimus Primal the Second. Before them was a large Technorganic hill.
"Great, a hill," Primal was not impressed.
"Watch this," the green one laughed. He shot the hill, which was hollow. "This was once the Grand Mal. You wanna see it?"
Primal didn't hesitate, perhaps against his better judgment. They both entered the den of iniquity, once the home of the greatest of evil, the very house of Megatron's spark.
"Creepy isn't it?"
"Only for a weak spark," Primal said. He wasn't truly confident, the very essence of this place could make even Cheetor's spine shake.
"Hey I think I see a light up ahead," the green one went deeper into the Mal. "I think it's a spark..."
A flash of blinding light emerged and the robotic cars began to shake. Primal watched in horror as his body trembled and corroded into gray ash. He ran away from his fallen friend, he transformed and he flew as fast as he could.
His friend, however, did not die. He arose and laughed, eyes glowing a fiery orange.
"Yes..."