Categories > Cartoons > Biker Mice from Mars > It's War

Default Chapter

by whipblade 0 Reviews

It's WAR! The Plutarkians against the Martian Mice, will Mace make any differance?

Category: Biker Mice from Mars - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama - Characters:  - Warnings: [!] [V] [X] - Published: 2006/06/13 - Updated: 2006/06/13 - 2502 words

>>




Biker Mice from Mars
In:

It's War!
Part 1

By: Whipblade




"Mace get your tail in gear!" Stoker snapped at the rusty brown mouse.
Mace continued to slowly pack up what radio equipment he needed, his
bedroll and his battle gear. "Why the hell do I have to come with you?
There's enough, the bikes can make it there and back in a couple of hours.
What's the deal Stokes?" he complained.

"Damnit Mace!" Stoker grabbed more gear, pushed Mace aside and quickly
packed what he needed only.
"This is a War. Not some damn vacation." He tossed out a battered copy
of Water Gate Uncovered, a stuffed mouse. "Geez Mace, I thought your too
old to have something like this." Stoker tossed the toy out of the door.

Throttle stopped in his tracks and picked the small mouse that had a
canny resemblance to himself. Hearing Stoker grumbling, he strolled to
the communications entrance, stuffing the toy into his vest.
"Problems Mace?" Throttle smirked seeing the officer sulking and standing
out of Stoker's way.

"Nothing I can't handle rookie." Mace sighed annoyed as Stoker tossed
more of his stuff out of the bag. And packed more into it. "Are you done
yet Daddy?" Mace sarcastically snarled at Stoker.

"Am now." Stoker said grabbing Mace's bags. Slinging them over his shoulder.

Mace grabbed the three portable radios, following Stoker's swift strides
towards the garage. "Look Stoker, I don't see any need for me to go. Radar
can take care of things in the field, he always had."

"I need the both of you." Stoker snapped dropping Mace's bags by Modo's
feet. "Make sure NOTHING else is put into these."

"Sure thing Stokes." Modo said watching Mace practically pout as he
started loading up his bike.



Throttle strolled up to Modo. "Hey big guy, got your ride ready?" he
fist tapped Modo's thick arm.
"Lil' Darlin's ready to ride." The gray giant of a mouse said.

"Bada-BANG!" Vinnie bounced into the garage with energy to burn. The
two huge guns slung over his shoulders so casually. "Yo! Bros! Ready to
rock the socks off them pesky invaders?"

"Do they even wear socks?" Throttle questioned.
"Gag. I rather not know." Vinnie's face scrunched up in disgust. Sauntering
away Vinnie continued to talk. "Going in hot. The best of them all, leading
the way, guns blazing...."
"Hey punk!" Stoker cut in. "Finally figured out I'm the best eh?" Stoker
laughed, his tail slapping Vinnie up side the head.
The white mouse jumped. "HEY!"

Harley smiled sweetly. "Aww take it easy handsome, he just likes to
rub you the wrong way."
Vinnie smiled back. "You can rub me any way you want."
"I'll have to take a rain check on that handsome." Harley winked her
blue eye. "When this campaign is over, we'll talk." she blew him a kiss
before moving onto the next loaded bike.
"I'll make sure my tail stays intact." Vinnie grinned.

"Don't think it's your tail she's all that interested in." Mace chuckled
from behind the white energy ball.

"Ahh, but that's well protected." Vinnie winked.

Mace rolled his eyes.

"We going in hot Stoker?" Throttle asked once Stoker passed close enough.

"We are." Stoker said as he continued to walk to the center of the room.
"Listen up Freedom Fighters...."

All activity stopped, every eye focused on their leader.
BIKER MICE FROM MARS

In

IT'S WAR!

/by: Whipblade/



Throttle slid down a pile of dirt. A dead body not a foot away.
Sweat dripped off his forehead as he belly crawled over the dead kin. Taking
what he could use and the tags off the body, he took stock of his ammo
before rolling behind a larger clump of dirt. Sneaking a fast peek
over the edge of the dirt. He caught a quick glance of the enemy. Reading
a grenade he counted to three before lobbing it towards the enemy.

The explosion and shouts in a foreign language gave a small perverse
pleasure to the tawny mouse. Without a bazooka, Throttle had no means of
stopping the tank slowly plowing its way through the sand, dead and discarded
shards of vehicles.
An explosion erupted not three feet in front of the mount of dirt he
used as a cover. Ducking his head, he closed his eyes automatically. Even
though his helmets face shield was down. Dirt rained down upon him. He
didn't stir for a moment. Tucking his legs under his body, holding his
rifle firm and close to his chest. Throttle shot up and stayed crouched
while darting across the open field.
This tuck run gave the enemy a much smaller target to shoot at.

Two hundred meters later and he slid down into a trench, breathing hard.
"I need a confirm! Is the enemy moving towards or away from the village?"
Throttle shouted into his radio.

Only static returned.

"Crap." Throttle sighed chucking the radio over his head. It exploded
before it hit the ground. Keeping his head down, Throttle raced again in
the uncomfortable tuck along the shallow trench. Completely turned around,
he only hoped he was heading away from the village and not towards it.

Shots rung out from behind, just skimming past his head. A bullet grazed
his shoulder. Clenching his teeth in pain, he spun around, firing
his rifle before he locked on a target. A Plutarkian fell before it got
a chance to ensure a kill shot.

"Fuck." Throttle growled as blood started to soak into his clothing
and fur. Swinging around, he didn't stop running, keeping his head
down.


Mace heard the rattling of ammo, crunching of gravel under running feet
and then saw the shadow of a helmet clad mouse came into view before the
actual mouse did.

Throttle tripped as a hand shot out of a cave, grabbing his belt. He
was pulled through a tiny hole, his gear and knees catching the edges.
Reeling with the fast grab his breath hitched in his throat unsure
if the darkness would reveal a friend or foe.

"Comrade?" The rusty voice of Mace, wary as usual.

"Yeah?" Throttle replied in a hushed tone.

"Don't scream." Mace warned.

Biting his bottom lip, Throttle tensed as his body jerked. The cool
liquid seeped into his deep cut, stinging all the way.

Hissing "Only exit?" Throttle pointed to the hole he was pulled through.

"yes." Mace replied.

The tawny and rusty reddish brown mouse both set up weapons, cross hairs
aimed at the three foot entrance.

The two laid on their bellies for what seemed like hours. The battle
outside started to sound fainter. The foreign language of the invaders
passed by the trench, but none investigated the cave. Shadows played on
the ground until dusk settled.

"How long?" Throttle whispered.
"Thirty minutes." Mace replied.
Throttle shifted raising himself, but keeping his gun aimed.
His back cracked with the movements.
"How'd you get into the thick of things?" Throttle's voice whispered.

"Ran after a kid, he's back there. It opens, but doesn't go anywhere."
Mace replied in an equally low tone.

"This place will crumble once the tanks are within reach."

"How many."

"Counted seven."

Mace nodded as his tail snaked behind him, feeling the way in
the darkness it waved back and forth as if trying to find something. With
in seconds scuffling sounded as someone crawled forward.

"Is it safe?" The weak squeaky voice of a youth asked.

"Never gonna be safe as long as we're at war." Throttle replied. "I'm
going out to make sure it's clear."

"Careful." Mace said watching the tawny mouse slip out. He waited, expecting
a shot, his body to drop, convulse and lay still. It didn't happen,
as a hand waved them out.

Both Mace and the youth exited the hole. Together the three hurried
down the trench.




"Any word from Throttle or Mace yet?" Stoker asked Modo. The pair were
hunched near a window. Their fighters regrouping around them. The building
they took hold of was a mere skeleton, but it was something.

"Nothing." Modo replied keeping his sharp eyes out for movement in the
dark.

"What about...." Stoker started.

"Chaos came back with 'bout a dozen." Modo answered.

Stoker nodded moving off, keeping himself below the windows.

Her dark hair clumped together with dried blood and dirt, stuck out
at odd angels. Her white fur, now more of a dusty and crimson red. "Took
a beating." she said as soon as she saw Stoker. "Lost a few too many."

"One is too many." Stoker grumbled. "What do we got?"

"I got a dozen resting up in the center of the building. There's seven
tanks rolling in from the range. Seventy possibly eighty on foot. About
two to three dozen four wheelers, eight stilts no air." Chaos reported.

"Take a rest Chaos." Stoker padded her arm.

"Will do." She watched him hurry off. "you should too." she muttered
to his back.


"Enemy ETA is three hours." A voice called from the make-shift communications.

"Radar, any word from the army?" Stoker asked, a smirk on his face.

"Oh yeah..." The small patched mouse smiled. "They're fifty miles south
laying land mines and setting up for an ambush."

Stoker shook his head. "Stupidity is not limited to rats."

Radar laughed pushing his small round glasses back on his face. "Sir,
Any word from Throttle or Mace?"

"Not yet. What the hell is Mace doing out in the field any ways?" Stoker
asked leaning over the chair Radar sat in. The soft codes muttered over
the frequencies babbled in different languages.

"When we started to set up, there was a kid prowling around. Mace set
out after him, in case he was a spy." Radar explained. "Hasn't returned,
no word, he didn't even have his headset on."

"Fuck." Stoker growled. "Mouse or rat?"

"Who Mace?" Radar looked up puzzled.

"No, the brat." only slightly amused at Radar's lack of intelligence,
Stoker lightly whacked the kid upside the head. "Mace is a mouse."

"I know Mace is a mouse, that's why I was asking. I never saw the kid."
Radar confirmed.

"Let me know if anything else comes over the lines."

"Yes sir." Radar gave a salute as Stoker strolled out of the room.

"Stoker!" Modo ran down the halls. "Three mice heading in. Looks like
Throttle."

"Whose our sniper?" Stoker asked as he hurried towards the east window.

"Crosshair, She's making sure the way is clear." Modo replied as he
too knelt beside the window. The two could just see three dark shadows
darting from one cover to the next in a kris cross fashion. Their moves
and locations, erratic and fast.

Stoker frowned as he studied the area the three had to cross. "There
isn't any enemy movement out there. Why?"

Radar raced up behind them. "Sir! There's air..." BAM! The small
patched mouse fell.

Modo and Stoker ducked.

"Crap! Sniper." Modo put his gun to the ledge, keeping out of the windows
sight he waited.

Stoker crawled over the Radar. The small mouse throat was shot to ribbons.
Blood pumped quickly from the severed artery. "MEDIC!!"

Chassis raced into the room, hitting the floor hard, she pushed
her medical kit forward, belly crawling to the downed mouse. Stoker pressing
his hands on Radar's throat. She moved Stoker's hands away. "There's nothing
we an do."

"Damnit!" Stoker wiped his hands on the dead mouse's uniform.

"What happened?" Chassis grabbing her medical kit with her tail.

"Sniper." Modo grunted.

"Damn." she sighed still crouched she started to drag the body towards
the door.

Stoker moved towards the broken furniture and mortar pieces.

"Stokes?" Modo inquired, vision still fixed on his bros stalled positions.

"Gonna cover the windows."

"Too dangerous now."

Stoker didn't reply as he grabbed a nearby chuck of wood. "Keep them
in your sights."

Modo sighed but didn't respond as he waited for Stoker to fall like
Radar had.





Small arms wrapped tightly around Mace's middle. More to calm himself
than the child, Mace hugged the boys shoulder.

The three huddled under rubble, hiding from the sniper that tried to
pick them off, and took out someone in the warehouse.

"Why the hell are you out here?" Throttle growled in a low voice.
"Ran after a punk-rat in the warehouse during set up. Managed to get
in the middle of the field before I was able to get a decent shot. By that
time, my route was blocked by enemy fire. I dove into the trench and started
moving when I found this thing aiming a gun at me. His brothers body behind
him." Mace soft reply startled Throttle.

"Why didn't you kill the kid?" Throttle asked keeping his eyes towards
the direction of the enemy sniper, trying to find the location.

"I shot someone behind him. It wasn't a mouse." The youth spoke
up.

Mace gave the tawny mouse a sad weak smile. "He saved my life."

Throttle shook his head. "how old are you kid?"

"13."

"What's your name?"

"Flea."

Throttle looked to the kid. The orange red dirt covering the kids fur
didn't give Throttle any clue what color the kid really should be. "Flea?"

"Yeah." Flea answered. His larger eyes scanning the area he could see.

"How good of a shot are you?" Throttle asked.

"I got the solider in the head." Flea answered.

"He missed me, comrade. That's good enough." Mace replied taking his
rifle. Loading it, he set the end through a very small hole that just fit
the barrel in. "Over there, by the turned over jeep." Mace pointed to Throttle,
the small spy hole was just big enough for a gun nozzle to fit in. "Bet
we're in his previous spot."

Throttle looked along the barrel to the cross hairs. "I got him." Squeezing
the trigger, the gun recoiled hitting Throttle in the shoulder harder than
he expected. "Mmph!"



Modo watched Throttle take a sniper shot. He managed to get the sniper,
even Modo couldn't find the low-lifes location. The trio raced across the
open terrain.

Mace slid through the door and around a corner. Almost knocking Harley
over as he hurried towards the center of the building.
"Hello to you too." she huffed watching the mouse fly, followed by
a youth.

Throttle quickly bolted the door shut. Turning around he hurried after
Mace.
"Harley, got anything for recoil bruises?" he asked rubbing his shoulder.

"You used Mace's gun." she smiled rooting in her med-kit.

"Yeah, he set it up, but there wasn't much room to move." Throttle grumbled.

"Is that why he moved so fast?" she handed him a gauss square with gel
squirted in the center.

"I just threatened to kill him." Throttle smirked. "Where's Stokes?"
he eased the cooling gel onto his shoulder. It quickly numbed the pain.

"Upstairs. Here, take this." She handed him a couple of aspirins. "I'm
a mechanic, not a medic." she winked her blue eyes.

Pills in hand, Throttle hurried to the stairs. "Thanks Harley." he called
over his shoulder.

The Battle Continues

.........



>>
Log in to rate and review this story

Log in!




Register Lost password

Filter

You won't see stories with a lower score when you browse or search. Log in to adjust filter.
0

 

Featured Story

Site Stats

  • Authors: 653629
  • Stories: 39938

Recent Stories