Defiance

	Sign In Sign-Up

Disclaimer: I don't own the BMFM or any character from that show. I do, however, own, Katianna, Dragon, Turbo, Starfire, Tactica, Sparky, Starmantle, Fire, Ice, Mari, Goldenmane, Taura, Pikestar, Stonewall, Nazira, The Rockers, Firestars, Shimmers, Monarchs, the Fireblades, and Junior. However, I don't own the original character, Marshall, who Junior is based on. Marshall is (C) to Brentwood Television Funnies as well as the BMFM.

I make no money from this writing (though I know we all wish we did) and do so only for the enjoyment of myself and others.

This story takes place right after When Love Breaks and tells what happened to Kat when she teleported the Plutarkians from the Earth. There is a warning of foul language and mild violence.

Defiance

By Goldenmane

*********************

Kat clamped her hands over her ears, cursing silently that her helmet hadn't filtered out the high pitched squeal. She cursed louder when she couldn't locate the sound's source, and nearly screamed when she found she couldn't find her bike, Dragon, either.

She searched with her emerald eyes, increasing the magnification on her helmet to max. She knew where she was, all too well and she didn't want to stay here any longer than she had to. Mass teleporting so many Plutarkians back to their rightful time had indeed burned out Dragon, and she needed to find her bike and repair her before any Plutarkians found either one of them.

Kat drew her laser, aiming it towards a small antennae sticking up from the ground. That, she decided, had to be the source of the sound. Then again, if she destroyed it, she might tip them off to her location.

When the noise stopped all of a sudden, Kat rose to a crouch. She surveyed the rocky, dead landscape. She knew these lands well, having once grown up here. Chryse Plains had been her home away from home when her parents told her she could not join the Freedom Fighters. Then the Plutarkians had attacked, leaving her yet again homeless. There the Plutarkians, under command of Junior, had settled and reclaimed, once more, Martian soil.

Plutarkians from the future.

Plutarkians with revenge clouding their souls.

Kat rose, searching once more for Dragon. She trotted off, ever watchful for Plutarkians or Sand Raiders. She had fought with a group of Freedom Fighters before joining her current unit. She had fond memories and bitter pain from her tour of duty. She did not need to be reminded of caution.

She swore heartily when she saw three Plutarkians jabbing the butts of their laser rifles at an unconscious Dragon.

"Well," Kat said, checking her laser's settings. "At least I found ya ol' gal. Now to get rid of unwanted company."

Kat aimed her laser at the rifle of the nearest Plutarkian, letting off two quick shots. She watched as the rifle exploded, the second shot striking the Plutarkian next to him. She fired again, striking the third Plutarkian. She scrambled down the small embankment, making sure the three of them truly were dead before assessing the complete damage to Dragon.

"Dammit," she swore, righting her bike."Do I risk a call and hope for help before they locate me? Or do I sit this one out until I can get you repaired?" Kat paused. "Nah, solo it this time."

Kat checked Dragon over with a quickness she had learned from her unit leader. Time was always of the essence. Especially when it came to time-traveling Plutarkians.

"System's shot. Memory's in pretty good shape, considering," Kat mumbled, punching in a set of co ordinates. "Can't hurt being too careful."

She rose, firing Dragon's engine. She grimaced, bending down. She checked the engine over, sighing. She ran a quick diagnostic with her eyes. Nothing seemed to be amis. She tried again, smiling when she heard the familiar roar of Dragon's engine.

Kat mounted her bike and sped away. Far away from Junior's base. Away from her homeland of another time.

Kat swore when she saw three Plutarkian Heavy Armored Tanks in her path. She swerved to a halt, maginifing the vision on her helmet. She swore again when she saw their guns trained on her and the lead Plutarkian drop his arm.

She resumed her motion, tearing across the blood-red sands. Shell after shell pounded around her. Kat rode as low as she could to Dragon, hopefully making them less of a target.

One shell struck a few feet in front of Dragon, causing a great crater. She tried to jump the hole, cursing when Dragon began to lose power. She attempted to soften her landing as Dragon's front wheel dropped out from beneath her as they tumbled into the crater.

She let out a yelp of pain as her rib cage slammed against Dragon's control panel. She could feel herself blacking out and tried to radio for help. Kat could not tell if it worked as the panel before her swam in her vision before turning dark and silent.

Kat awoke to a pounding headache, a dull pain in her chest, and the faint coppery taste of blood in her mouth. She tried to move, gasping at the pain in her chest. She swore under her breath praying nothing had broken in the crash.

She looked around. She had never seen the inside of Junior's Fortress personally, until now. Yet she had heard tales and reports from the lucky few who escaped alive. The room was fairly large and filled with technical equipment she could only guess at, and then thought better about it, as to their uses.

"Awake at last, I see," Kat hears a male voice say.

Kat craned her head towards the voice. "Damn," she swore. "Ok, you got me. Now what?" She shifted her weight slightly, never taking her eyes off of the speaker. Junior could never be trusted.

She watched helplessly as Junior approached. Two of his warriors stood watch at the door. She tried to fight back as he grabbed the ropes that held her tight. She hissed in pain as a rope bit into her chest.

"If you stop struggling, my dear rodent, you would not be in so much pain," Junior said with a snarl, tightening the bonds around Kat's wrists.

"Go to hell," the young mouse growled.

Junior grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to her knees. "Such language will not be tolerated."

"One of these days.." Kat began, wheezing in pain.

"No matter what you think, rodent, I will always have the upper hand," Junior said coldly. "Warrior, take her to the holding cell. I'll dismantle her bike later."

Kat struggled, gasping in pain as the warrior slapped her across the face. "Dragon, fight them. Don't let them hurt you!"

She felt the blow connect to her ribs and to her jaw, before passing out. When she awoke, she found herself in a dark cell. Beyond the bars, in an adjacent cell sat several mice. Judging by their appearance, she guessed they had been here for quite a while, their fur was matted with sweat and dirt and their clothes hung about them in rags. Kat turned to get a better look, when she noticed one of the other prisoners rise, crawling on all fours to the bars.

"Pray for a quick death," the female said in hushed tones.

"What do you mean? Don't ya want to escape?" Kat asked in a soft voice, her chest ached even more. She could feel a sharper pain every time she inhaled and worried that Junior's warrior might have broken a rib.

The female shook her head, her tangled once long red hair swung back and forth. "Escape is impossible. I know,"

Kat looked to the older mouse with a mix of pity and anger. But the defeated tone in the older mouse told Kat much.

"We tried to escape," the older female went on. "We tried the day Junior brought us here. All it cost us was our freedom, and our lives."

"Junior can be a tough ol' fish to baste," Kat said, grimacing at her bonds. She desperately wanted to get free. She didn't want Junior dismantling her bike Dragon for the improved transporter capabilities it had. She knew from what her unit leader had said, that this improved technology couldn't fall into Plutarkian fins. And now it had.

The female turned suddenly and sat, her back against the bars. "Tell me, young one, does Mars still live?"

"So far the Freedom Fighters have kept the fish at bay. We almost drove them completely off, but a few of them refused to go," Kat's voice trailed off. "How long have you been here?"

"Too long," she said. "Too long. Pray Junior kills you, if you can't escape. For we have lived in this hell Junior stuck us in for over ten years."

Kat's red brows shot up. "That long? Geeze."

"We were brought here by Junior shortly after the Battle of Monument," the female continued, her voice soft and lost in painful thoughts. "We had just survived that horrible war. Just returned to base, to our lives." She looked up forlornly to a male sitting with his head in his lap. "We had lost friends, family, our unit. But we still had each other."

"War can be rough," Kat said solemnly. "I just came from a battle on Earth where the stinkfaces are, or should I say were, trying to take over."

The female lowered her head. "I wondered how long before they'd set their sights on Earth. So fertile, so green. Just like Mars used to be." She paused. "Tell me, young one, just how did one mouse alone defeat the Plutarkians?"

"I didn't. I had help," Kat said. "There are mice on Earth, oh, but you wouldn't've known that, would you."

"Who," the female said in an urgent whisper.

"The Biker Mice, their human friend Charlie, Mari and Mandy from Detroit-"

"-Did you say Mari?" the female asked, glancing over her shoulder to the male who had just raised his head from his lap.

"Yeah, Mari was there. Why, do you know her?" Kat asked in surprise.

The female nodded, barely acknowledging as other mice, including the male, went to her side. "Mari was our unit leader. She picked up where Rock left off after the Battle."

"Then she did make it to Earth," the male said, his gaunt frame trembling. "She's alive."

"Last I knew," Kat said. "Then you must be the Rockers she told me about."

The female shook her head. "One and the same. I'm Tactica, and Sparky, Starfire and Turbo are here as well." She indicated her other three companions.

"Well, I guess I was right when I said I could fix their problems," Kat said, testing her bonds. She gasped at the pain in her chest. "But if you are alive, then I guess the army was wrong when they said you're ship had blown up," she whispered.

"Did Junior hurt you?" Starfire whispered.

Kat nodded. "Crashed into a bomb crater then one of his warriors punched me in the gut. Think he broke a rib."

"Pray he did not," Tactica said. "I've seen other mice die from infections. Junior cares not whether we live or die, so long as he has a 'bargaining chip'."

Kat sighed softly, wincing in pain. "But what about the ship?"

"Oh it did blow up," Sparky said, running a hand through his grungy black hair, his dark eyes holding a sadness Kat had seen in the haunted eyes of the survivors from Junior's Fortress.

Starfire laid a hand on Turbo's shoulder, the dark tan male trembled in silent tears. "Junior attacked our ship, took us hostage, and brought us here. We tried to escape, several times. But he caught us every time."

"That's when we gave up hope. We caught enough of Junior's words to tell he's not you're ordinary Plutarkian," Tactica said.

"No, really?" Kat said sarcastically. "He's from the future. Or at least my future. This is his rightful time."

Tactica nodded her head. "Then that would explain why he keeps referring to the 'other Mars'. I figured he meant Mars when the Plutarkians held most of the land."

"Nope. He's talking about the past. You lot are from my time. But if I met you here, now, then why isn't it recorded?" Kat said thoughtfully.

"Time can be a fickle thing," Junior said from just outside the bars.

They all turned to him, hate burning deep with in their souls.

"Time can be your ally or your enemy. It depends on how you treat it," Junior said, going to the cell that held the Rockers. "And your time shall soon be over. History states that soon, very soon, you shall have a final guest. A very dear guest."

Turbo rose suddenly, grabbing the bars for support.

"Yes, my good rodent," Junior crowed. "Your dear mate shall be joining you soon. We have it all well recorded. Yes. She shall arrive with new, improved technology that will make my conquest of Mars and Earth complete."

"You'd better not hurt her," Turbo growled, releasing the bars. "Or I'll make sure you pay."

Junior advanced on Turbo, striking the bars with a short metal rod. Everyone who had some contact with the cell bars yelped in pain, scrambling backwards. Kat wrinkled her nose at the stench of burned fur.

"You electrified the bars," Kat said coldly.

"Correct," Junior said. "It may do no good to punish the guilty, but if you go for their allies and 'friends', then you get compliance. Right?"

Turbo only glared, checking over the small burns on Tactica and Sparky.

"Silence befits prisoners," Junior continued. "You shall surely know when your 'dear mate' has arrived."

Kat watched Junior exit the cell room before turning her emerald gaze towards the Rockers. She noted with a sadness the tears that coursed down Turbo's tan cheeks.

'If only,' she began then stopped. What could she do? If Junior's warriors had broken a rib, she would never be able to fight. And with the blood she could taste in the back of her throat she could die without medical attention. She closed her eyes as the Rockers sat against the opposite side of their cell, their gazes downcast, their mood somber.

Somehow they had to find a way out of there. Somehow.

"Pack leader to Scout. Over," Sharpshooter called over the radio. "Dammit Roughrider, answer me."

"Hey, there, pretty lady," came a faint crackly voice. "Trouble?"

Sharpshooter shook her head, her long, black hair blew in the small breeze. "Got a signal, faint. Somewhere near Junior's Fortress. Martian in origin. The pattern was for one of the Firestars."

A pause. "What size force do you need?"

"Not big. Hunter, Longbow and you. Should be good enough."

"Gotcha," Roughrider said, his sweet smokey voice going soft. "Just lay low."

Sharpshooter chuckled. "Thanks, but I intend to. Just get your tails here as fast as you can."

She set the radio down, scanning the area for Plutarkians. She did not need a surprise attack any time soon. Not when they were so close to infiltrating Junior's Fortress and freeing what he had left for prisoners. Then, with any luck, they could force Junior off of Mars, confiscate his time travel equipment, and fortify Mars from any further attacks.

But if one of the Firestars were in trouble, it meant Junior had his hands on another time travel bike. The last thing any of them needed.

Sharpshooter settled herself, keeping a watchful eye to both screen and the bleak red sands around her. When she spotted a small swirl of dust on the horizon, she reached for her helmet. She magnified the vision, smiling when she saw Roughrider in the lead, and the two healers Hunter and Longbow flanking him. She knew that her own healing talents would most likely be needed once they penetrated Junior's defenses. She wanted to make sure they had enough back-up healers. Just in case.

She rose, motioning to them. "Nothing yet," she called over the radio. "All's too quiet."

Sharpshooter went to Roughrider, hugging him. When they removed their helmets, she pecked him on the cheek. "Hiya cutie," she whispered into his ear.

Roughrider kissed her back. "Time will never test our love, will it?"

Sharpshooter pulled away, nodding to Hunter and Longbow. "Nope. Not like it did our parents. But we made up for it, didn't we?"

Roughrider chuckled. "So, where's the signal now?"

Sharpshooter shrugged, securing the scanner in her bike's pack. "Lost it. There was some interference with the scanner a few minutes before the signal. Could be when they transported in. They must have set off Junior's outer alarm system."

"Mount up, then, and let's get going," Roughrider said. "I've got the Shimmers and Monarchs waiting in the wings in case we need help. I radioed the Firestars and they say they can transport in if we need the help."

"Let's rock it," Sharpshooter said with a laugh. "Fireblades, roll out."

They sped along the sands towards Junior's Fortress. No one had dared infiltrate his Fortress before. Not with the horror stories coming from those few who had managed to escape. They knew there were other prisoners, higher level, maximum security cells that held mice. How many the returnees could not say, nor who, only that Junior wanted those mice segregated from the rest of his captives, and kept under tight wraps.

As they neared the outer perimeter, Sharpshooter punched a button on her bike. "Outer defenses will be scrambled in five seconds."

They passed twin towers, thankful they heard no noise.

"Secondary warning system coded," Sharpshooter said, half turning to Roughrider. "Crack it?"

"No sooner said than done," he said, punching buttons. "Code secure, inputting now. System scan ok. We're in."

They passed several smaller towers, taking second glances at the bombed out patch of ground and three dead Plutarkians.

"I'd say whoever it was, they put up a good fight," Hunter said, his deep bass rumbling over their helmet's radio.

"Bike tracks lead away, so they ran," Sharpshooter said. "No sign of Martians in the area but us."

"Maybe they transported out?" Hunter offered.

Sharpshooter shrugged. "Call in the others. We'll follow their path first. Give them the codes."

Roughrider nodded, his dark tan lock of hair covering his ruby eyes for a brief moment. "Contacting all of them."

Sharpshooter motioned for a stop, turning to her mate. She waited as Roughrider ticked off the names of those who would back them up.

"Shimmers on their way, Monarchs leaving base, Firestars near here anyway. I gave the code to the Firestars and they'll pass it on to the others. I've got word from the Shimmers that the rest of our unit is coming with them," Roughrider said with a rushed voice. "That's it for the friendlies."

Sharpshooter nodded. "I always knew one of these days we'd finally band together and get these stinkfaces off our planet."

" 'Bout time," Longbow said, removing the long bow that lent to his name. He pulled the sinew back, aiming at a target that was not there. He released the sinew, watching an arrow in his minds eye streak towards a target. "Good as gone," he said, replacing the bow.

"Just make sure you hit your marks when it counts," Sharpshooter said, watching Longbow as he leaned back on his red and blue bike. The white mouse only barely acknowledged her.

Sharpshooter kicked her bike into gear. "Let's get going, I don't want to become a sitting target for their sensors."

They headed off, following the trail of craters and churned up sand.

Kat shivered, hissing in pain. She could feel her chest and forehead burning, yet her backsides remained icy cold. She knew she had to get out of there. Had to escape. Had to get help. But she couldn't remember clearly where she was or what the danger was.

"Kat?" a voice broke into her thoughts. "Kat, keep talking,"

Kat hadn't been aware she had been talking. She couldn't even remember who the tan-furred red-headed mouse was.

"She's burning up," the female said. "Junior must have hurt her worse than she thought."

"We can't help," a grey-furred male said. "We can't even get to her. And if we could, we don't have the equipment we need."

The female sadly nodded. "Kat," she said again. "Tell us about Mars. Tell us about your home."

"My home?" Kat said wearily. Her eyelids felt heavy and she wanted to sleep. She did not want to try to pull nonsense facts out of her muddled brain.

"We're going to loose her," the female said sadly. "And there's not a damn thing we can do about it."

Kat closed her eyes, sleep overcoming her. She would rest now. Rest. In the morning things would be better. Of that she was sure.

"Scramble message from the Firestars, there here already. Something about the Shimmers and Fireblades are only a few minutes behind them. The Monarchs are going to be late, ran into a small Plutarkian force. They'll be here as soon as they can," Roughrider said.

Sharpshooter nodded. "Let's rendezvous with the Firestars. This biker is one of them, they can handle it better than we can."

They reversed their course, breaking when they met up with three other bikers. The entire unit of the Firestars.

"Kat went missing during our last battle," the tall, tan-furred female said. "At least someone found her."

Sharpshooter nodded. "Go in now or wait for the others?"

"We can't wait. They'll have to meet up with us," the female said. "We can't let Junior dissect Dragon."

"Only two more defense grids to get by and we're home free," Roughrider said. "We have the codes set."

The Firestar's leader nodded. "Let's go,"

They once more headed out towards Junior's Fortress. Sharpshooter kept her brown eyes on the Firestar's leader. She had heard reports from other mice that this was one mouse you could not turn your back on. She was unpredictable, untrustworthy, self-centered, egotistical, and above all she placed the lives of the Firestars above anyone else. Sharpshooter did not want to necessarily deal with her, this Goldenmane character, but she had to. Kat was a member of the Firestars and only Goldenmane fully understood the technology of time travel.

"Cracking the codes, we're in," Roughrider called, breaking Sharpshooter's thoughts. "First line of warriors ahead."

"Word from the Fireblades and Shimmers, they've entered the outer defenses," the iron-colored female on Goldnemane's right said. Taura looked from the screen. "They've cleared the first two and are heading for the third. Do we engage now or wait?"

"Punch it," Sharpshooter said. "They're close enough. Fireblades. Firestars. Let's hit them where it counts. For victory,"

"For victory," the others called.

They set off a hail of missile and laser fire, doing considerable damage to Juniors outer walls. They cheered when they saw several missiles from behind strike Junior's fortress with deadly accuracy.

"Shimmers here," Nazira called. "Time to toast us a fish."

"Fireblade's reporting for duty," a young mouse called. "Sorry, but the rest of us are backing the Monarchs up."

Sharpshooter nodded. At least they had a good-sized force. Now all they had to do was get in and get out without any casualties.

"Battle-cry time," someone shouted from the back.

"It's tail whippin' time," they all chorused, setting off wave after wave of missiles, lasers and grenades. They were going to strike Junior hard, and strike fast.

"Nazira, pinpoint the prisoners, Goldenmane," Sharpshooter said, "You know Dragon's signal, go and find her."

"No sooner said than done," Goldenmane said. "Taura, Pikestar, let's go."

Sharpshooter watched them break off, Nazira and a few others heading off in another direction.

"High-level cells found," Longbow said. "Straight ahead."

"Let's do it." Sharpshooter fired several more missiles, blasting a hole in the wall. They continued to press on, Plutarkians and otherworldly warriors falling amongst the rain of lasers.

'So far so good,' Sharpshooter thought. 'If only our luck will hold.'

Tactica rose from her crouch at the thunderous booms that rocked the cell. "Someone's trying to spring us."

Sparky went to her side. "Several someones." He paused, listening. "I hope whoever they are, they've got healers with them."

Tactica glanced over to Kat. The young mouse barely breathed, her light tan fur soaked in sweat. She shivered slightly from time to time.

"Rockers," Turbo began solemnly." I think it's about time we checked out of Junior's little base."

"Let's rock 'em," Starfire said, her fists clenched, a wicked grin on her face.

They waited for their opportunity to fight, knowing that in their weakened conditions they would be more of a hindrance than a help. But the time had finally come for them to fight. To escape the nightmare Junior had thrown them in all those many years ago.

Time to reunite with loved ones.

Goldenmane screeched her bike to a halt. She, Taura and Pikestar made short work of the Plutarkian guards around Dragon. Goldenmane went to Kat's bike, checking her over. "Major damage to some memory chips, but she's still functional. That new improved flex-plate shielding worked. Not to many dings."

Taura glanced towards her leader. "How bad is her AI damaged?"

"Bad enough." Goldenmane whistled to her bike, waiting for her black Harley to back up. She ran a diagnostic on Dragon through her bike, not liking what she found. "She recognizes some mice and bikes, but she won't say who. Her guidance is off, temporal bending is shot. I'd transport her back to base, but I doubt she'd make it to the right place, or time."

"I don't like that tone of voice," Pikestar said.

Goldenmane sighed. "You shouldn't. Dragon has a set of co ordinates punched in. Or should I say two. And she won't let the me have the co ordinates. One seems to have been imputed by Kat, the other, I can't say. It almost looks like Dragon herself selected the other location."

"Get away from my bike," Junior roared.

"Your bike," Goldenmane laughed. "Where's Kat," her voice took on a cold deadliness.

"Where she will be of no trouble to me. Now, kindly back away from that bike."

Goldenmane shook her head. "No can do. I won't let you improve your time travel capabilities. Not after the damage you've done to the past."

"And who says I can't take what I need? Have I not proven that I have mastered time itself? Who are you to deny me my rightful place as Grand High Pooh-bah of Earth AND Mars?" Junior said.

Goldenmane chuckled. "Now, now, pufferpuss, you don't really want me to answer that, now do you?" she mocked. "Dragon, Code Beta. Transport sequence-"

Her command was cut short as a laser bolt ripped into her shoulder. She staggered backwards leaning on Dragon. She punched a button. "I hope you know where you're going." She slumped to the floor as Dragon hummed to life, glowing briefly before vanishing from sight. Goldenmane smiled weakly. "Ride free, Dragon," she whispered before passing out.

"Dammit," Sharpshooter swore when she saw the small fluctuation on her screen. "One of the Firestars has bailed."

"We're losing this little fiasco. We've gotten some of the prisoners to safety, but we still can't reach the high-level prisoners," Roughrider said. "We've got to retreat."

"We can't," Stonewall said. "The Shimmers would never leave anyone behind. Something you Fireblades ought to learn."

Sharpshooter shot an icy look towards the dark-grey furred giant of a mouse. "No Shimmer is going to tell ME how to run a battle. Fireblades, pull out. Retreat to safety mark. Take as many prisoners as you can."

"Where the hell do you think your going?" Nazira said forcefully, planting her bike infront of Sharpshooter's escape path.

"The Fireblades are retreating. Do what you want with this, we're not going to loose anyone here today," Sharpshooter growled, sliding to a halt.

Nazira shook her head. "We need all the healers we can get. Something's gone wrong, I can feel it."

"The Firestar's've bailed, that's what's wrong," Sharpshooter began, halted mid thought when three bikes burst in front of them with a flash, one of the riders, bleeding heavily.

"Dragon got away, but not before Junior shot Goldenmane," Taura said, propping her leader up.

Sharpshooter only glared at Taura, shifting her narrow gaze towards Nazira. "Fireblades, retreat," she called. "This battle has ended."

Nazira pulled out of the way. "Get yourselves out of here, we'll handle it as best we can. Just get her patched up."

Taura nodded, transporting the three of them to safety.

Nazira turned to Stonewall. "Tell the others to regroup and restrike. There's still a mouse in there that needs rescuing, and by the moons of Mars, we'll get Kat and those high-level prisoners back in one piece. Of this, I swear."

Stonewall nodded, giving the command to the Shimmers.

Nazira steeled herself as they renewed their attack on the Fortress, so close to their goal, yet so outnumbered with the retreat of the Fireblades and the injuries to the Firestars. And the Monarchs who still had not radioed in.

Somewhere in the pit of her stomach she wondered if this wouldn't be the final blow that ends the war on Mars. A blow dealt not to the Plutarkians, but to the mice themselves.

"Shimmers," Nazira called. "Attack!"