This is a work of fiction that I am in no way making any money off of. It is not intended to infringe on anyone else’s copyright. It is however something that I wrote and I would ask that you please ask me first before using the reality or original characters I’ve created.
Biker Mice from Mars FanFiction
Chapter One
Things Change: Angel's Chance to Live
By Kat
9/25/99
"There's no way your gonna beat that one, bro," Vinnie laughed triumphantly at the near bull's eye he had just executed with his blaster.
He twirled the deadly weapon on his finger and holstered it to his thigh with as much flare and flamboyance as any one mouse could muster. He leaned back against his bike and angled his face to the sun so that its radiance could fully shine on his handsome features.
"You think not?" Modo asked as he walked around the target, seemingly unaffected by Vinnie's overflowing masculinity.
An old Sand Raider vehicle door rested on a boulder in front of the mice. On its surface was a painted on, three ring bull's eye in red. It had been a slow morning, really it had been a slow week, so the guys decided to kill some time before their shift replacements came.
"I don't know, Modo," Throttle grinned, "I think he's got ya this time, bro."
Throttle had decided to sit this game of target practice out, knowing that his modified bionic eyes and field specs gave him an unfair advantage. Besides it was more fun watching Vinnie and Modo try and out macho each other. Not much had changed over the years between the three friends. The had seen other friends, family and lovers come and go, but the three of them had always been together. Throttle glanced around him, scanning the horizon, letting his eyes go to the maximum of their range. Being the leader of this small group did have some responsibilities, like making sure the farming operations weren’t attacked. While his two bros blew off a little steam.
"It's close," Modo agreed as he fingered the dime-sized hole on the inside rim of the golf ball sized, red painted center of the target.
"Close? Close?! You can't get any closer even with a laser sighted scope!"
"Live and learn, Vinnie. Live and learn."
Modo sighted his own blaster, an accessory that he hardly used but was standard Freedom Fighter issue, and took careful aim. He gently bit his tongue between his teeth, which emphasized his chipped front left tooth. He even squinted his eye behind the eye patch as if he needed to keep that eye shut to focus. He breathed in then out, turned his arm and blaster sideways and fired with his arm cannon, leaving a basketball sized hole that fit perfectly in the very center of the outer most ring.
Throttle was stunned for a moment, but then quickly dissolved into laughter that threaten to knock him from his bike. It wasn't often that Modo could surprise him, but when he did it was good. Vinnie stood there equally stunned, and for the first time all day he was rendered speechless. The white mouse didn't stay that way long when he saw Modo's smug smile as he blew wisps of smoke from the tip of the canon.
"That's doesn't count!" Vinnie wailed.
"Who says? I hit the center of the target, didn't I?"
"He's got ya there, bro," Throttle said after he got his laughter under control, which was extremely hard given Vinnie's astonished expression.
"Your suppose to hit the bull’s eye, not obliterate it!" Vinnie was glaring at both of his friends, Modo for getting the better of him and Throttle for taking Modo's side. He did have to admit, however, it was a good trick.
"Home to Perimeter Three… Home to Perimeter Three… any of you punks listening."
"Yeah, we hear ya, Stoke," Throttle responded into the microphone in his helmet, trying to keep the chuckle out of his voice. It was good to see Vinnie in good spirits again.
"Hey, Stoke! They let you out of that shuffle board class early today?" Vinnie quipped, much to his own amusement, hoping to shift his embarrassment to the older mouse.
"Ha, Ha… Keep it up punk and you'll be patrolling the Perimeter by yourself while your bros get to see some action."
"What's up Stoker?" Modo asked glaring at Vinnie to keep his muzzle shut, while the shorter mouse shrugged innocently.
"Not sure, big guy. All I could gather from Carbine was that something big is going down inside Plutarkian space," Stoker told them as Vinnie and Modo mounted their bikes, "Carbine wants you guys back here ASAP."
"We're on our way," Throttle said just before he cut communications and started his bike.
-----------------
When the Biker Mice arrived at the home base that the Freedom Fighters shared with the Military they were directed to proceed directly to the 'War Room' by one of the gate guards. While walking through the halls of the stuffy military complex, the mice couldn't help but feel sorry for their army counterparts that were forced to wear military clothes, look the military look, talk the military talk, and generally become little drones/clones. They knew that the military was important on some basic level, but it just wasn't their style, being a Freedom Fighter, however, was.
It had been almost two years since the Plutarkians had been driven physically from Mars, but their influence could still be felt. Every so often, the stink fishes would launch a major attack, usually through their continued contact with the Sand Raiders, just to keep the Martians on the defensive. The Freedom Fighters were still an organization that was separate from the military and they handled the perimeter skirmishes with the Sand Raiders, while the military used all of their resources to keep tabs on the Plutarkians.
It was frustrating to the guys sometimes how the war seemed to be dragging on. The constant patrolling and the frequent 'special assignments' (which were nothing more than hit-and-run attacks on Plutarkian space stations) had kept them busy over the last two years. Like all Freedom Fighters they had leave to take, but it wasn't very long. Two weeks every four months was barely enough time to see their families and relax a bit before returning.
In fact, they hadn't even spoken to Charley for almost the entire two years since they’d came home. They had left their communication equipment with Charley so that they could contact her when they had the chance, but only five months after they left, the United States had launched a new communications satellite that made Earth to Mars transmissions impossible. Stoker had been pretty sure that Charley could still hear them, but with the equipment she had currently, there was no way she could talk to them. So every four months on the first day of the month they called, hoping that she could at least hear them even if they couldn't hear her. Vinnie took the complete separation from their human friend the hardest.
Throttle and Modo had realized early on that Vinnie's interest in Charley was more than a simple crush, but it didn't hit Vinnie until the day that they had left. Just before they took-off for home, Vinnie had given Charley a present. He told her not to open it until they left. Before she had a chance to react he had given her a quick kiss and retreated to the spaceship. When they found out that they couldn't contact Charley anymore, Vinnie had fallen apart with equal parts anger and worry.
It was the most miserable Modo and Throttle had ever seen their bro. One minute Vinnie was melancholy, looking up at the sky towards earth and the next he was ranting a raving about every little thing. Modo had known better than any of them what it was like to lose someone close to you, and he convinced them to give Vinnie his head. They thought that it would pass. That their bro would learn to just accept what he couldn’t change. At least they thought that until it started to affect Vinnie’s performance. He was missing shots and even worse endangering his comrades with his mood swings.
Finally Stoker had to inform Vinnie that if he didn't come out of his funk that he would be removed from active duty. The older mouse did have some pity for Vinnie, however, and got him in touch with someone that could help him with his problem. Every leave that they had Vinnie used a week's worth of it working for a Valian trader that would exchange four weeks of labor for a round trip ticket to Earth. Vinnie had finally worked off the four weeks and on his next leave he was going to Earth. It had been really hard keeping Vinnie's feet on the ground and his mind on his work during the last three months, and his boisterous ego had re-inflated to it previous planetary size.
Unknown to Vinnie was the fact that both Throttle and Modo had been working on their own leaves to pay for the new transmitter they planned to give Charley. They missed their human friend terribly. They had known her for such a short amount of time, but it was like they had been friends forever. She fit so perfectly in their small group. Satin, Modo’s late fiancee, always felt that she was intruding on their friendship, and Carbine… Carbine seemed to make a point of not fitting in. Charley was never like that. She had become a part of their lives, a member of their family. Their only consolation in not being with her was that she was safe, on Earth, away from this war.
On the way over to the base, the three mice had spent the long drive discussing what could have possibly happened to make Carbine ask for outside help. Of course, Vinnie was of the opinion that it was because the three of them (but especially himself) were the 'baddest motorjammers' in the galaxy. Modo had a less ego driven idea that the military needed to do something that might become messy. Throttle kept his opinion to himself, but it ran parallel to Modo's. The military needed someone that was good and expendable, and since Carbine was their friend they wanted her to ask them. Throttle didn’t have a very high opinion of the military, but kept his mouth shut most of the time. The Biker Mice entered the War Room and the guard at the door barely gave them a glance as they walked passed.
"Everyone can relax. The heroes have arrived," Vinnie proclaimed, arms open wide, basking in the admiration that was solely self-directed.
"Shut-up and sit down, Vincent," Carbine hissed, "Were trying to get our signal back."
Vinnie pouted only slightly, forgiving Carbine her transgression and plopped himself down in the first available chair. Throttle and Modo looked at each other and nodded, agreeing silently that they should sit on either side of their white furred friend to keep him in line for the rest of the meeting. After they took their seats, Carbine answered the question that was utmost on their minds.
"The reason I asked you guys here is because the situation we have is of the greatest importance and can not fail under ANY circumstances."
"See, I told ya," Vinnie preened.
"Be quite, Vincent," Throttle ordered. "Go on Carbine."
"Thank you, Throttle. Less than twelve hours ago we received a message piggy backed on a Plutarkian military channel we have been secretly monitoring for several months. It simply said, 'We're coming home. Listen for instructions, General Hawk'."
"Not THE General Hawk?" Throttle gasped.
"General Hawk?" Vinnie gapped in amazement, "You mean the General Hawk that almost beat back the entire Plutarkian army with a single platoon?"
"I thought he died in that fight?" Modo questioned, unbelieving.
"So did we," Carbine agreed, "Until we got his second transmission about six hours ago. The information he gave us could have only come from the real General Hawk. He had secret military information that only he and the Commander and Chief knew."
"No offense, Carbine," Throttle interjected, "But couldn't that information have been gathered by Plutarkian intelligence and this whole thing be some kind of trap?"
Carbine sighed and rubbed the ache behind her eyes, "Yes, that is entirely possible and that is why the military will not send support to the location requested, but I know that this is not a trap!"
Throttle was taken back by Carbine’s emotional out burst. He hadn’t seen her this animated in a long time. The war had taken a grate toll on his former lover. It had aged her greatly in many ways. They had broken up because she felt that she could not be a general in the Martian Army and continue a relationship with him. ‘Conflict of interest’, she had said. Just another thing he had lost thanks to the Plutarkians. One day, when this war was over, he hoped that they could get back together, but right now the only thing in Carbine’s life was the war.
"I grew up with Hawk. He was like my older brother. The person that contacted us knew things and only Hawk and I know. Besides that, he had personal information from twenty other military personal that were known to have been captured by the Plutarkians, and everything that he said has been verified by their families."
"I know that this is the real thing and this IS General Hawk. He has a plan to escape from a Plutarkian prison camp, along with over 200 other POWs and the damn military won’t even consider helping him!" Carbine yelled as she slammed her fist down on the table.
"Calm down, Carbine," Throttle soothed, not knowing how to react to female mouse's unusual outburst. The military was Carbine’s life. To hear her talk so negatively about it was almost unnerving.
"Throttle, this is too important! 200 of our comrades, families, friends are waiting and counting on us to help. Some of them have been prisoners for 10 years. Some even have had children. I won't turn my back on them just because someone high up thinks it’s an unsound risk … I can't… So what I'm asking is… will you help me go behind the military's back and rescue them?"
The three biker mice looked at each other, communicating silently before any of them spoke.
"It would seem that the benefits out weight the risks to me. Count me in," Throttle responded.
"If there is even a slight chance we can get even one prisoner back I think we should take it," Modo added.
"I'm always lookin' for a way to show-up the military. Count me in Sweetheart!" replied happily as he leaned back in his chair and plopped his boots on the table.
"Thank you," Carbine said with a smile before turning on Vinnie, "If you don't remove your boots from my table I will take one of those flares of yours and…"
"Carbine! We have reestablished the signal. General Hawk is waiting," one of communications tech said, interrupting Carbine's threat.
"Put it though the main sound. Hawk… are you there?" Carbine questioned.
"Yeah, I'm here Half-mite. Did you get those fancy bike jockeys?" a deep voice asked over a static filled line.
"Half-mite?" Throttle grinned at Carbine. The idea that anyone was that familiar with his ex to give such a diminutive nickname was almost beyond belief.
"If you ever repeat that, you’re a dead mouse," she snapped back giving him a glare he knew all too well, "Yes, they're here, but I haven't had a chance to detail the mission to them."
"So I take it that they have agreed to do it."
"Yeah, we'll do it. Just give us a place and a time and a few Plutarkian rears to kick," Vinnie told the voice, grinning his trademark smirk.
"That must be the 'Vinnie' I was told about. Is he going to be able to keep that attitude and ego in check? I won't jeopardize this mission because of a reckless loose cannon," Hawk said disapprovingly.
Vinnie was about to get out of his chair and say a few choice words to the General, but Modo's restraining hand and a negative shake of his head stopped the white mouse.
"Don’t worry about Vinnie, sir. When it comes down to the real thing, Vinnie is as good as they come," Throttle said, giving the sightless terminal the disarming smile that had won over more than his fair share of female hearts.
"That's what Angel said too, but it's just hard for me to believe that she has that much faith in the three of you with a Wild Card like Vincent Van Wham in the mix."
"Who's Angel?" Modo asked.
"She's the one that is making all of this possible. She has been planing and preparing for this day for almost a year now."
"So what IS the plan?" Throttle asked, going completely into 'leader mode'.
"In two hours a small Plutarkian ship is coming to take me to a maximum security prison on Plutark. Three hours after we leave we will enter an asteroid field of dense magnetic rock that will render their communications useless. At that time the three of you will intercept the ship and take it over. After that is done we will use that ship to bluff our way onto the transport ship that is being sent to take all of the POWs from Torren to another holding location. We will take over that ship, pick up the prisoners and return to Mars."
"Seems like an easy enough plan, but it sounds like the timing is a little too good to be true. How is it that you are being transported separately from the others? And why are they moving ALL of the POWs at once? What makes you so sure we CAN bluff our way onto the ship?" Throttle asked, feeling his suspicions rise. Anything that sounded too good to be true, usually was.
"Like I told you, Angel has been planing this for a long time now. She has a direct connection to the Plutarkian military computer system. Over the course of a year she has used a series of false memos, emails, reports and communications to make the Plutarkians believe that it would be more profitable to move their POWs to a location closer to the heart of the Empire. When the government okayed the idea she found out which of the transport cruisers they were going to use in the relocation and planted a computer virus in the on board computer so that it will be dead in space waiting for us to 'rescue' it. Once we are on board, I will have the anti-virus and the transport will be fully functional again. Since the entire prisoner transfer will be computerized, Angel is going to provide any help we might need once we land at the prison and she will cover our escape. As for why I'm being taken separately, Angel updated my computer file from 'important' to 'extremely dangerous and important'."
"Sounds like this Angel has thought of everything," Throttle said sounding only a little more trusting, it did sound like a well thought out plan.
"Angel is in a class all her own. She's special," General said with admiration clearly in his voice.
"How do you know she can be trusted?" Vinnie asked, not willing to believe that one person could make this whole thing possible, they’d have to be almost as good as he was, "I mean, all we have is her say-so that all of this going to happen, right?"
A snarling growl could be heard over the link, "Listen here, punk! You have no idea what Angel has gone through for us! She could have given into the Plutarkians and lived a pain-free life, but she choose to fight them. Through her we've been able to survive to this day. She has used her connection to order us more food and even medicines occasionally. We have lived this long only because everyday she fights what they're doing to her so that she can help us escape and it's killing her!" the General's voice took on a mocking sneer. "But, if you must have a more selfish reason for Angel to help us, fine I'll give you one. She doesn't want her son living his life only knowing the walls of a prison. Her only request out of us is to take her son to Mars and raise him to be free. Is that a good enough reason for you, Mr. Van Wham?"
Vinnie was taken back by the General's out burst, he had never meant to offend, "I didn't mean…I mean, I didn't realize that she…"
"Well, maybe next time you'll use that rock between your ears before you speak. Angel has put herself on the line for us and everyone here trusts her with our lives and she trusts us with her son. She has proven herself time and time again, OK?"
"Yeah," was all Vinnie could say. He felt about two feet tall
"Back to the topic at hand. Where is this asteroid belt you mentioned?" Throttle asked, taking the spotlight off of Vinnie with his boot up to the kneecap in his mouth.
"Carbine has the coordinates and the times. She already has that end covered. I have to break link now. Angel is having trouble masking our signal. There will be no farther contact from this point on. May the Goddess protect you, and may you be as good as Angel claims you to be. Hawk, out."
The line went to pure static, and everyone in the room was silent for a moment realizing the enormous amount of responsibility that had been rested upon their shoulders.
"Well… if you guys are going to make it to the rendezvous on time I better show you to the ship your going to be taking," Carbine told them, breaking the silence.
"I thought all military ships were locked up tighter than the scales on a stink fish," Modo said as he came out of his seat to follow Carbine out the door.
"Not the ones that are destroyed in freak gas line explosions," Carbine told them, with a grin they hadn’t seen in a long time.
"What freak explosion? I didn't know there had been an explosion," Throttle said narrowing his eyes behind his field specs.
"There hasn't. At least, not yet."
"Are you sure you want to do this, Carbine?" Throttle asked, "This could end your Military career."
"Despite what you might think of me and the military, I have never lost sight of what is truly important… saving lives. I just believe that the military is a better way of defending our people, but right now they have lost sight of what is important."
"So, what do you think about this Angel character?" Modo asked the female General.
"Hawk trusts her completely, and I trust his judgment."
"This Angel chick sure seems to know a lot about us, bros. She even knows how good I am," Vinnie said preening his ego.
"Maybe it's your personal publicist." Modo suggested.
"Maybe she's a Freedom Fighter and she knows you from there," Carbine added.
"Maybe," Throttle said, "But I intend to find out."
-----------------
Five hours later after leaving Mars under cover of a very well planned explosion that ‘destroyed’ only one ship leaving the hanger intact, the biker mice waited for the Plutarkian ship to arrive within the asteroid belt.
"So… anyone up for some Poker, Checkers, Parcheesi, Chess, Tic-Tac-Toe, Tiddley Winks, Spin-the-Bottle… anything?" Vinnie asked, practically crawling up the walls of the small Martian spacecraft.
"Vinnie, please. Try and calm down," Throttle said absently as he scanned the sensor controls for any sign of the other ship.
"Yeah, Vinnie," Modo said, forcing his friend back down in his seat, "It is not like they're late, bro. Just chill."
"I can't chill. I've been stuck inside this 10 by 20 box for five hours with nothing to do, but watch the stars go by. I'm going out of my mind!"
"That's not very hard to do," Throttle said with a grin, not looking up from the controls.
"Ha…Ha… bro. Funnny," Vinnie said sulking, "If I had a penny for every time I heard that one…"
"Incoming," Throttle interrupted, "Plutarkian Star class ship, right where Hawk said it would be."
"Yesss," Vinnie whooped, "Finally some action."
"Well, if this beacon doesn't work like Hawk's Angel said it would the only action we'll be doing is running. This ship has no offensive capabilities," Throttle informed his crew of two.
"WHAT!!" Modo and Vinnie exclaimed together.
"Well, according to the plan this beacon is calibrated to go right through their shield and temporally stun the entire ship. We'll have 60 seconds to dock to their ship and get inside before they regain control."
"Didn't it occur to you that, I don't know, maybe, we would need that kind of information SOONER!" Vinnie complained.
"Well, if you two had have paid attention during the debriefing, instead of arm wrestling, maybe you would have already known," Throttle shot back, and then he grinned, "What's a matter, Vincent? Scared?"
"Me? Scared?! Pleaze! Let's get this show on the road!"
----------------------
The take over went without a hitch. If you don't count the fact that it took them 61 seconds to dock with the Plutarkian vessel and the automatic defenses came on line. Or that Vinnie inadvertently disengaged the air lock and lost the Martian shuttle (which imploded upon the loss of pressure), or that there were ten Plutarkian guards instead of the six they were expecting. All in all, the whole thing went as planed… sort of.
They had the Plutarkian ship, which was good. They lost their ship, which was not good. They had taken the ship with almost no injury to themselves, that was good. They wasted more than half of their weaponry doing it, that was not good. The Plutarkian ship had an autopilot, which was good. Modo shot it during the fight, which was not good. Mission analysis: success!
"All right, bros. Let's get down to the cellblock and get ol' General Hawk out of the pokey and put these fine gentlemen behind bars," Throttle suggested, pushing one of the Plutarkians in front of him.
"You do realize that you rodents will never get away with this! When we don't show up with our prisoner the army will come looking for us and you vermin are dead."
Modo pushed the annoying Plutarkian out into the prison holding area as soon as the doors to the lift opened, causing the fish to stumble and shut up.
"He does have a point, bro," Vinnie whispered to Throttle, "How are we going to keep the stink fishes from knowing we took this ship?"
"Already taken care of, Mr. Van Wham," a familiar voice in the last cell said.
On the way to the cell, which was against the back wall, Modo, Vinnie and Throttle secured their prisoners. When they made it to the last cell they finally saw in person the legend they had only read about.
Behind the bars, stood a mouse not much taller than Throttle with dark gray fur that shone like graphite. He wasn't very muscular, but it was pretty obvious that at one time he had been. The years of being a prisoner had taken its toll. The patternless, yellow jumpsuit he wore was a size too small showing his ribs and it was strained at the seams.
General Hawk's arms were shackled behind his back, once at his wrists and then again at his elbows. Around his neck was a thick metal collar that was anchored to the wall and both of his feet were bare and shackled to the floor. Over his muzzle was a mask, presumably to keep him from biting. His left ear was almost gone, leaving only a quarter moon attached to his skull and from where they stood he had no tail at all.
"Are you boys going to stare all day or are you going to get me out of this."
"Sorry, sir," Throttle apologized as he opened the cell door and approached.
"No problem. I'm sure I must look a sight. I think Angel underestimated how cowardly these finheads are. She wasn't counting on an increase in security. The plan was for me to help you fellas take these fish faces out during the blackout," Hawk explained as Throttle removed his restraints.
"No need to worry. It was nothing this studly mouse couldn’t handle," Vinnie assured him, puffing out his chest and studying his nails.
"You know. I don't think I'm going to like you very much, punk," Hawk said glaring at the ego driven mouse.
"You learn to love him," Throttle laughed.
"Or ignore him," Modo said grinning.
"You must, or you'd kill him."
Vinnie glared at the older mouse deciding then and there that he wasn't going to like the General either. It was acceptable and even amusing to the white mouse that Stoker said stuff like that, but this guy didn't have any right to judge him. What did high and mighty, General Hawk know about Vincent Van Wham anyway?
"Are we gonna get going, or what?" Vinnie demanded letting his tail show his irritation.
"The punk's right. We're wasting time," Hawk agreed, taking the led to the lift, "We need to feed the coordinates to the auto pilot and get to the transport ship, before anyone on board has a chance to find an anti-virus."
"Uhhh…"
General Hawk turned to the three bikers and saw their guilty faces, "What happened?"
"Well, ya see…" Throttle started.
"It was an accident, really…" Vinnie atoned.
"I shot the auto pilot" Modo said gravely, a guilty blush could just be seen coming to his ears at his confession.
"I guess we'll have to use Angel's emergency plan," Hawk sighed.
The guys didn't ask and the General didn't volunteer any information, so they silently followed Hawk to the control room. General Hawk approached the main panel and sat down in the captain's chair. He quickly opened a com link and then turned the sound down immediately when a high pitched shrill came over the line, making all four mice cringe in pain. Hawk scanned the frequencies briefly and then settled on one and began to type.
-Looking for an angel to fly with.- he wrote. The letters appearing bright green against black on the display.
It was several minutes before a reply, -Angels usually fly alone-
-Sometimes they fly with hawks- , the General responded.
-Only when they are alone. What has happened?-
General Hawk gave a sigh of relief and answered, -Auto pilot damaged. Need directions.-
-Moment… Vinnie?- the screen asked and Hawk laughed.
-No. The big guy.-
-Is everyone all right?-
-Burned egos.-
-Directions following. Time frame condensed. Window compromised. Target must be attained in 2.4 hours for success. Get your tails in gear boys!-
-We will Angel. Hawk, out.-
-Angel, out.-
"Well, Angel sent us the directions and we will have to be at maximum burn to make it there on time. So, pick a seat and buckle in," General Hawk warned mere seconds before he gunned the engine.
For a good hour the four of them flew in silence. Hawk was concentrating on making it out of the asteroid belt and the guys didn't want to distract him. Finally, when the ship was clear and General Hawk visibly relaxed in his seat, Throttle opened up the conversation.
"How long have you known Angel."
Hawk turned in his seat and fixed the younger mouse with a look. Feeling comfortable that Throttle was nothing more than curious, he relaxed and returned to flying the ship.
"We knew that about a year and a half ago that someone was intervening on our behalf. First the quality of the food got better and then the rations started to increase, but until a year ago we didn't know who or how it was happening. We just said that it was our Guardian Angel watching over us. Then Ivory, she's was a civilian that was captured during the first of the raids, was taken from the Cells and put into the Plutarkian's 'special' testing program along with five other females." The stick in Hawk's hands groaned in protest of being gripped too tightly but he continued on, not noticing.
"They were taken as part of a breeding/mutation program. Well, as it turned out Angel was also part of this program as a test subject even though she was already being used for another experiment at the time. In the end, all of the children died accept for Angel's. Angel and Ivory were the only females that survived the testing. Angel's baby was born on the same day that Ivory miscarried hers so they switched. The Plutarkians believed that their experiment was a failure and dropped the project. Because Ivory was to be the control they never looked twice at the boy and let him and Ivory return to the Cells. Ivory is the only one that has ever seen Angel in person. No one knows who she really is for sure."
"If Angel is a prisoner, how is she able to do all the things she does," Modo asked, being drawn in by the story.
"Actually, we can thank the fishes for that. The Plutarkians wanted to see if they could take a living brain and download or at least access it with a computer. The idea being that if they wanted information out of someone that all they had to do was to plug them up to the computer and take it. Angel has unlimited access to the computer systems because of it."
"The Plutarkians have no idea what she's doing," Vinnie asked.
"Not as of yet. They believe that she is in a coma and that all of her higher brain functions are under their control. They are only keeping her body alive until they believe they have all of her brain downloaded. Angel knew quite a bit about computers and Plutarkian circuitry, and is able to function inside their computer without them knowing."
General Hawk gave a long sigh and Throttle could see his hands shake on the controls, "They are going to terminate her project at the end of this month. Too much cost, and not enough benefit. She’s has been holding it off for a while, trying to make it long enough to see this escape through to the end. The farther the computer goes into her brain the more she looses herself. In a couple of months she won't be able to tell where the computer ends and where she begins. If it hadn't have been for her son I don’t think she could have held out this long."
"You make it sound like we're leaving her behind," Throttle said quietly.
"Yeah. She won't have it any other way. She won’t even tell us where her body is being kept inside the compound so that we won't be tempted to go after her. Her condition is irreversible," Hawk paused, rubbing his forearm across his eyes, "Well, are you boys ready? The transport is up ahead."
The Biker Mice nodded their heads and readied themselves for battle. Hawk’s somber mood bled over to all of them. A Freedom Fighter never left anyone behind. It was an unspoken rule, but now they were expected to knowingly leave someone behind to die. It didn't sit well with any of them, not one little bit.
-----------------
Two hours after encountering the Plutarkian transport ship they took it over with ease. They locked all the Plutarkians on the prison ship and set it adrift in space. When the Biker Mice and General Hawk arrived at Torren they landed in the prison's hanger bay behind a XenoX mercenary cruise vessel. Throttle held his breath and prayed that the XenoX would not cause any complications to their plans.
The XenoX were a race of mercenaries. Hiring themselves out to the highest bidder. They were known to shift loyalties if the price was right. Throttle watched the XenoX disembarked from their ship and were escorted into the complex. All the guys were tense. Every nerve in their Freedom Fighter trained bodies told them to go in fighting, take the enemy by surprise. This time they stood quietly in the control room giving the authorization codes Angel had given Hawk to the port master.
Several long moments passed before the Plutarkian on duty gave them the go ahead to start loading prisoners. The boys gave a sigh of relief and finished putting on their borrowed uniforms. To make the whole exchange look more convincing, Hawk had decided to send Throttle and Vinnie out in full Plutarkian battle gear to 'oversee' the transfer of the prisoners. Of course Vinnie had a few choice things to say about having to wear the malodorous uniform, but both Throttle and the General told him to shut up and bare it.
Throttle and Vinnie walked out to the ramp that was at the back of the ship, their features completely concealed within the suits, and watched their people come from inside the compound in groups of twenty to the ship. The sight of them angered and sicken them. Many of the POWs limped or were impaired in some way so that walking on their own was quite a chore. Those that were stronger were carrying the old, lame and very young. There seemed to be equal numbers of male and female prisoners, but the sheer number infants and young children that were being carried out was astounding. The children ranged in age from infants to toddlers. All the prisoners hung their heads low even the children, their antenna drooping over their foreheads, but as they passed they would glance their eyes up. Vinnie and Throttle could see the defiance and hope that burned inside these seemingly passive people and their hearts swelled with pride.
Not wanting to seem overly anxious to leave, the loading proceeded slowly. A few of the prisoners pretended to lag back so that either Vinnie or Throttle had to push them along. Throttle kept one eye on the Plutarkian control room that over looked the hanger bay and the other on the well-armed XenoX troops. The mercenaries didn’t seem interested with the Martians at all, and that suited Throttle just fine.
During the transfer, one of the groups of twenty prisoners acted differently than the rest, and it caught Throttle's attention. Instead of coming out in a line like the others, this band was grouped together. There were eighteen bodies wrapped around and shielding one female and the child she held.
The woman was rather unremarkable. Her fur was dirty, but underneath the grime it was a light cream color. She never looked up so Throttle had no idea what color her eyes were. She was probably 5'5", maybe 5'7" if she wasn't slouching, but what really caught Throttle's full attention was the child.
It appeared to be a young boy, of only a year. His fur was uncommonly short and lustrous of a soft, dove gray color. The antenna on top of his head weren't red like most Martians, but a pale pink and stood strait up. At one point, Throttle could have sworn that he saw them move. The boy's ears were on the small size, but not overly so for a child that age, but it was his eyes that truly made him stand out. They were large, clear and bright green. It wasn't a common color, but not unheard of. Unlike all of the other prisoners, he was not afraid to look around, but when his eyes rested on Throttle the boy stopped.
The child stared at him, and for a moment Throttle could have sworn that the boy could see through the helmet and see his face. As the group walked by, the boy didn't take his eyes off of Throttle until Vinnie was in view. The little boy switched his attention to Vinnie and gave the white mouse the same scrutiny that he had given Throttle. Vinnie didn't seem to notice until the group was almost into the transport ship, then suddenly he turned to stare at the boy as the little one stared back over the female's shoulder. Vinnie looked at Throttle, and Throttle shrugged.
The rest of the loading was uneventful and two hours after they started all of the prisoners were loaded. Some of Throttle’s anxiety was relieved when he saw the XenoX load a large box on wheels onto their ship and leave the prison moon. ‘One obstacle out of their way’, he thought.
Vinnie and Throttle entered the ship behind the last group and closed the cargo doors. The energy in the ship was almost tangible. When they took their helmets off, Throttle and Vinnie were greeted with many hard pats on the back and words of thanks. Throttle could see Vinnie soaking it up behind the blush he was sporting.
Throttle just shook his head and smiled. Vinnie likes to play the cool one, but give him any genuine admiration and he was a puddle of jelly. Hawk gave them thumbs up and them forwarded the departure code to the flight controller. Soon they were cleared for take off. Throttle made his way though the crowd toward the loudly talking group at the head of the ship. It didn’t take him long to find General Hawk in a heated discussion with ten other mice. Most of them Throttle recognized vaguely from being Freedom Fighters. They had been command leaders before their captures.
"You can argue all you want General, but were going and that is final," one of the mice informed Hawk.
"You would jeopardize this entire mission and the lives of over 200 for just one!" The General roared back.
"The Cells took a vote and the decision was unanimous," another leader said.
Throttle walked up to Modo who had been apparently watching the whole time; Vinnie wasn't far behind him.
"What's goin' on, bro?"
"The Cell leaders have decided that they aren't going to leave Angel behind. The ten of them want to go back so that they can rescue her after this ship is passed Plutarkian territory," Modo told Throttle quietly as the group continued to argue.
"Hey, there's that strange kid again," Vinnie said point over to their right.
"Yeah, he's been standing their the whole time just staring at me," Modo whispered, "He's starting to give me the willies."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth the little boy started to make his way over to them. He was surprisingly sure on his feet for as young as he appeared to be, and did not stumble once. He stopped in front of them and continued to stare at them his head slightly tilted to one side.
"Chance! Chance!" a woman called from somewhere within the crowd of bodies.
The boy turned his head slightly toward the voice, but did not look away. Throttle got down on one knee before the boy and his green eyes focused solely on him.
"Is your name Chance?" Throttle asked, looking at the child over the rim of his specks.
Chance nodded slightly, but continued to stare at Throttle as if he was trying to figure something out.
"I think your mother is calling for you, Chance," Throttle told the boy, indicating the direction the calls had come from.
"Not momma," Chance told the tan mouse with certainty, shaking his head, making his pink antenna wobble.
Just then the cream colored mouse that had carried Change in earlier came through the crowd and snatched Chance up. She hugged the little boy until Throttle was sure he would brake.
"Don't ever go off like that again, Chance! You worried me to death!"
"'Vory!" the boy protested pushing away from the woman’s shoulder.
"Don't 'Ivory' me young man," Ivory scolded the boy, "Thank you so much for…"
She stopped dead when she looked at Throttle for the first time. Her pale brown eyes widen in surprise and she took several steps back. She quickly looked around and noticed Modo and Vinnie standing behind Throttle. Startled by the look of panic in the woman's face, Throttle slowly stood and backed away, trying to be as none threatening as possible.
"I'm sorry if we frightened you, Ma’am."
"Ivory, is there a problem?" Hawk asked as he approached the group, having noticed Ivory’s distress.
"No, no, nothing," she assured the General, "I was startled is all. It's been a long time since I've seen anyone from outside the Cells."
"That's understandable," Hawk said with a grin, "Ivory I'd like you to met Throttle, Modo and Vinnie. Boys I'd like you to meet Ivory and Chance, Angel's son."
Throttle instantly remembered what Hawk had said about the breeding/mutation experiments that the Plutarkians had been performing that had resulted in Chance's birth and attributed his oddness to it. Now that the boy was closer, Throttle could see that the child’s fur was indeed very short and looked more like velvet than real fur. His antennas were bare of any hair whatsoever making them that pink color and his ears naturally drooped slightly.
"I think I better get back with the others," Ivory said as she backed-up, ready to flee.
"NO!," Chance wailed, as he began fighting Ivory's hold on him.
Ivory continued to try and leave but Chance fought harder. Kicking his feet and pulling at a lump under Ivory's shirt.
"Chance! Stop that," Hawk said to the boy as he continued to yell.
"NO! NO! NO! Momma! Momma!," Chance chanted over and over.
"He's just tired," Ivory trying to explain.
"NO!," Chance wailed one last time as the object he had been pulling at fell from under Ivory's shirt clattered to the floor.
Throttle followed the glint of gold as it fell to the floor and then seemed to magically slide across the floor to Vinnie's feet. The white mouse bent to pick it up and stopped. By now Chance's actions had drawn a crowd and everyone was looking to see what had dropped. Vinnie fell into a crouch over the object and then slowly picked it up. He turned it over and over in his hands.
"Where did you get this?" he asked so quietly that it was barely heard. No one answered.
"WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?!" he demanded, coming at Ivory like he was going to hit her.
"Momma," Chance answered.
Vinnie looked at the boy and his eyes went wide as if seeing him for the first time. All that fury in his gaze melted away, replaced by something that could only be described as fear.
"No," Vinnie said taking a step back.
"She made me promise not to tell," Ivory said shakily.
"No," Vinnie repeated.
"She didn't want anyone to know. She didn't want you to try anything stupid," Ivory continued.
"No."
"She didn’t want your last memory of her to be like she is now."
"SHUT UP! You’re lying!" Vinnie accused, coming at Ivory again.
Throttle and Modo caught each of his arms and hauled him back.
"What’s a matter with you, bro?" Modo asked.
"Yeah, Vinnie. What's up?" Throttle asked.
Vinnie shook his arms from his bro's hands, but made no farther attempts to go after Ivory.
"Before we left Earth, I gave this to Charley," Vinnie said, holding the locket out for Throttle to see.
Throttle took the broken necklace from his friend and turned it over in his hand, not willing to believe what Vinnie was saying. On the back of the locket was an inscription, 'To the Best Sweetheart a Biker Ever Had'. Throttle carefully opened the two halves and on one side was a miniature picture of Modo, Vinnie, Charley and himself posing in front of the Last Chance Garage. On the other half was another picture of the three of them sneaking up on Charley as she took a nap on the couch. It had been the morning of her birthday.
"It can't be," Modo said disbelieving.
"Not Charley-girl," Throttle whispered holding the locket in a death grip.
"You know Angel?" Hawk asked astonished.
"Her name is Charlene Davidson. We meet her back on Earth," Vinnie said anger clear in his voice, "And that is where she should be right now! How did she get here?" Vinnie demanded of Ivory.
"I don't know for sure. All I know is that she was captured on Earth after sabotaging something of the Plutarkians. By the time she came here they had already started replacing her nervous system with a computer matrix web. Now she is unable to function without a computer link up. When she arrived they put her into the breeding/mutation program because they wanted to see if they could combine human and Marian DNA."
"Why didn't you ever tell us Angel was human?" the General asked the cream colored mouse.
"Why? Would it of mattered?!" Ivory bit angrily back. "Human or Martian, Angel gave up everything to help us. I guess she didn't want it known because she was scared that we would treat Chance differently."
"This changes nothing!" one of the Cell leaders roared. "No matter who Angel is we're going back after her. We don't abandon our own!"
The crowd of Martians all cheered the leader's words and murmurs of agreement rumbled through the ship. Throttle looked around at his people. They had been starved, tortured, and put through horrible atrocities. They finally had their freedom and they were willing to risk it all for one. He saw mothers holding their children tightly, fear and determination shining from their dirty faces.
"I guess that means we're going back," General Hawk said gravely. "Twenty blasters against an armed Plutarkian regiment. Doesn't seem like much."
"Your wrong General," Vinnie said looking out over the crowd, "We have 200 free citizens and three of the baddest motorjammers this Galaxy has ever seen!"
The crowd roared again, but was quickly drowned out by the deafening groan of the ship. The transport cruiser jerked violently, sending many bodies flying. Almost as soon as the first disturbance was over a second took its place, more forceful than the previous one. Frighten children started to cry and all the adults started to talk at once. The chaos continued until General Hawk’s voice over the intercom system quieted them.
"Control! What the hell was that?"
"I don’t know sir, but there was a transmission from the moon just before it happened," a young tech responded.
"Well, play it son."
"Aye, sir."
There was a crackle over the com as the tech searched and then accessed the signal. A high pitched emergency alarm sounded first making the Martians hold their ears against the offensive noise. After the alarm quieted, a familiar voice with an unfamiliar metallic, computerized ring spoke.
"Prisoners have escaped. Security has been preached and atomic reactor sabotaged. Critical mass in five… four… three… two… one…"
"That was the end of the transmission sir," the tech in the control booth said when the signal went to static.
"Charley," Vinnie whispered as he slipped to the floor.
"Helm, give me a visual of the moon on the cargo terminal," General Hawk demanded as pushed a stunned Modo out of his way.
The twenty-inch screen told the story. On the lee of the moon where the prison once stood was a mile deep crater. Debris from the blast hung in orbit around the lifeless rock making it hard to see the surface clearly, but one thing was crystal. The prison and everything and everyone in it were gone.
"By the Goddess," someone in the crowd said and was echoed by many others.
"She said that it would be better this way," Ivory said, placing her hand on Throttle’s arm. "This way she’s no longer in pain."
"She will be remembered for her sacrifice, by all of us, for as long as we live. As long as our children have children her name will be spoken," one of the Cell leaders said bowing his head as if in prayer.
Throttle looked over at Vinnie where he sat on the floor and to his gray furred bro that openly wept the tears he kept hidden behind his specks and realized that it wouldn’t be enough. The gold locket bit painfully into his palm in his bruising grip. It would never be enough.
End part 1