Categories > Cartoons > Biker Mice from Mars > Throttle of Theymiscia

Throttle's Tale Begins

by DrakaDracula 1 review

Throttle begins the story of how he ended up three-thousand years in ancient Greece and Theymiscia.

Category: Biker Mice from Mars - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Crossover - Warnings: [?] [V] - Published: 2006-02-08 - Updated: 2006-02-09 - 1990 words

Throttle of Theymiscia
Chapter 3: Throttle's Tale Begins

"When Karbunkle's machine zapped me, I fell unconious," Throttle began. "When I woke up...well...


It was pitch dark behind Throttle's eyes, dark and unbearably hot. He felt like he was in the middle of Death Valley. Sweat poured out of his body and matted his golden fur, causing places on his body to sting. As soon as his mind acknowledged the stinging sensation, intense agony hit him full force.

There was a whistling in the air around him, and even with his hearing, he could not pinpoint just where the sound was coming from. He did not have time to wonder, though. In the next instant, something struck his back and snaked around his torso to hit his chest, leaving a trail of pain as it withdrew. Throttle gasped with the sudden pain, but did not scream.

Throttle heard voices and slowly opened his eyes. Through the tears of pain, he could make out his surroundings. He was in a stone building, lit by torches along the walls and a large fireplace. The room was sparsely furnished: A wooden table, about three of four wooden stools, and a few shelves filled with ominous-looking items.

And he was not alone, either. In front of him were three men -and it was a safe bet that a fourth was behind him, if the direction from which the snake-pain had come was any indication. They all scowled at him, speaking in a language he could not understand.

{"What are you?"} the man directly in front of him demanded. In his hand was a long, metal rod, the end of which was heated red hot. When Throttle did not answer him, the man brought the rod just in front of his face, mere inches from his mouse features.

Throttle defiantly struggled against his bonds, but found himself chained to the ceiling.

{"You will answer, creature!"} The man growled menacingly. {"...or..."} he touched the heated tip of the rod to the Mouse's chest.

Throttle bit back a scream as the fiery rod seared his fur.

{"Be assured, monster,"} the man sneered, {"you will die. How you die will be determined by your answers. If you answer me, your death will be swift and painless. Keep silent, and your death will be slow and agonizing. Choose!"}

But Throttle could not answer, for this human language was completely foreign to the Biker Mouse leader.

Before the the threat could be carried out, however, there was a noise from outside. One of the men peeked out the door, then said something to the other men. They all seized weapons and headed out the door. Throttle was alone.

He knew the respite would not last long. When the men finished with their business outside, they would be back to finish /him/. That is, if they survived whatever was happening outside.

I wish I could borrow Modo's strength/, he thought with a sigh. /Just until I can get out of here and find out where "here" is.

He took a deep breath, and suddenly, he actually felt stronger, as if Modo had answered his request. With a mighty heave, the young Martian snapped the chains. With short lengths of chain still dangling from the shackles, Throttle searched the room for a weapon. He spied a sword sticking in the fireplace, the blade red hot and just turning white.

Musta been how they were plannin' ta kill me, he thought. He took the sword by the grip -which was well out of the flames-and pulled it out of the fire. Then, he turned and made for the door. He opened it and got the surprise of his life.

Fighting the men was an army of women! A true "Battle of the Sexes"! One quick look showed Throttle that the women, too, had been prisoners and -like him-had just broken free. They were now fighting for their lives against their captors.

"Choose your destiny," a female voice inside his head spoke to him. "Choose your allies. One will lead you to your death. The other will lead you home. Choose wisely and well."

Throttle wondered why his inner voice was female, but had no time to dwell on it. He hefted the hot blade and leapt into the fray.

Imagine this: A man-sized, humanoid mouse with gold fur, antennae, and strange clothes arrives in your city. You take him to a dungeon and torture him. You are drawn outside, leaving him to himself. Moments later, in the heat of the battle, you turn around -and there he is, bare-chested (having lost his leather vest in the initial torture), his body and fur covered with blood, blood running from his mouth and the manacles still wrapped around his wrists. And in his hand is the sword with which you planned to kill him, still so hot it looked like it was on fire.

You would be terrfied beyond belief, would you not?

The men from before sure was. One look at their former prisoner as all that was necessary to send the four men running. This left them at the mercy of the attacking women. The four of them were dead in moments.

A woman with long, flowing raven-black hair regarded him curiously. But there was no time for further contemplation. They reentered the battle, but back-to-back, each wondering what was going on.

Throttle wielded his sword like a master swordsman. Where he got his new-found skill, he did not know. But he used it to the best advantage. He even activated his Knuk-Knuks, and combined their power with the heated sword. He could slice through the strongest of iron and steel. He found himself filled with more energy and strength than he thought was ever possible.

Before long, the battle was over. The men lay dead on the blood-soaked ground, and the women stood victorious. A blond woman raised a wide, golden belt over her head, and the other women cheered.

The only male still alive stood near a stone statue of an armored woman. Throttle panted heavily as he watched the women. Questions formed in his mind, trying to come to grips with what had happened to him.

Where am I? How did I get here? Who are these women? The last thing I remember was the light beam. I remember Wonder Woman saving Rimfire, and then she shouted to me. Then the light hit me, and I blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was chained in that room, being used as the preverbal "punching bag" by those guys.

The energy and strength that had sustained him through the battle now drained from his body, leaving him with the pain of his earlier wounds. He slumped against the statues, his knees buckling under his weight.

The same blond-haired woman that held the belt spied him where he sat, trying to ignore the pain. She snarled at the male mouse. The belt draped over one shoulder, she lifted her sword and charged at him, her voice raised in a ferocious battle cry.

Oh, no... Throttle groaned. He did not have the strength to deal with another attack. He wondered if maybe he chose wrong. What if the women were the ones that would lead him to his death? By the look in that one woman's eyes, it seemed very much so!

There was a "clang" of metal on metal, and when Throttle looked up again, he saw the raven-haired woman standing between him and the blonde woman.

{"Why do you protect him, sister!?"} the blonde woman cried. {"He and other men like him are why we have been hunted and persecuted by ..."}

{"No, Antiope,"} the raven-woman replied. {"This one fought on our side, against Hercules' army. Male or no, he is not an enemy, whatever else he may be. As he stood by our side against our foes, so, too, shall I stand to defend him now, when he is wounded."}

Even without understanding the language, Throttle somehow knew he had an ally -if not a friend-in the strange place he found himself in.

Another blonde-haired woman came and knelt beside him. Carefully, she attended to his wounds. She tore the material from her already-ragged garment and used the strip to bind what injuries she could. Several of the women also offered strips of their tunics. He doctor -he guessed that was what she was, judging by the way she tended him-gratefully accepted the offerings, and finished binding Throttle's wounds.

He listened as the two women argued, about what, the Martian Mouse had no clue -although it was quite possibly over /him/. Finally, the blonde woman gave the other the gold belt, then rode off into the forest, followed by about half the female army. The other half gathered around the black-haired woman.

While the women were discussing what to do next, the sky above them shone brightly in the night. In the heavenly glow there appeared the images of five women. They addressed the women below them. Throttle realized that one them had been the voice in his head! And just as in his mind, he was able to understand the speech -as could his female allies.

Somehow, Throttle thought, they -whoever /they are-are translating for me as well as for the ladies at the same time. But I only hear the words in -it sounds like English./

The women were told that they would be living on an island, guarding a great evil. They would have to continue to wear the wristbands of their shackles, as part of a penitence. Then, the spirit-women turned their attention toward Throttle.

{"Your ally is a traveler from the stars, lost in time,"} the woman from his mind continued. {"For him to return to his proper time and place, he must go with you to the island and share your exile. It will take him three-thousand years to return home."} At the astonished expressions on Throttle and the women, she continued, {"Do not fear: A way will be provided for the journey through time. Take care of him, our daughters; he is vital to the future of both our planet and his own."}

{"We will, Athena,"} the raven-haired woman promised. The goddesses -for that is what the spirit-women were-instructed them to gather their belongings and move their wounded to wagons. Throttle was moved to a wagon with the blonde healer. Before long, the women were ready to begin their journey.

A long procession of wagons and women made their way toward the Aegean Sea. While Throttle rode in the wagon with two more wounded and the blonde healer, other either rode in wagons, rode horses, or walked.

When they got to the beach, Throttle looked around for the sailing ships that would take them to the island. When he saw none, he was puzzled.

No ships? Throttle thought. How are we going to get to the island? Walk?

It was a good guess on Throttle's part. The raven-haired woman and the others were wondering the same thing, when once again, the goddesses appeared in the sky. With them was what looked like a giant merman, with long, curly white hair and beard, a gold crown on his head. In his hand was a long, golden trident.

He pointed the trident at the water, and the waves parted, revealing a path heading out to sea. To Throttle's surprise, the procession started on the long path to their new home.


"Wait a minute," Vinnie interrupted. All eyes turned to the white Mouse. "You mean that you," he eyed Throttle, "have been on an island for three thousand years -immortal and ageless-where there have been no one else but /women/?"

"Yep," Throttle smirked.

"Man!" Vinnie exclaimed. "Throttle has all the luck!"

Chapter 4: Lessons and Miracles: The journey to the island continues, and Throttle learns the Theymiscian language. Their arrival at the island causes a miracle. But what?
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