Disclaimer: The BMFM are property of what ever company founded them, Centerline in property of JWC, Chase and Streak are property of Tek. No Copyright infringement was intended.
Note to JWC and KLH: I loved both of your stories that they inspired me, and I had to write one of my own, I'm sorry if I used your basic plot.
Earth, Chicago, Last Chance Garage
As Carbine stepped off the ship onto the hard floor of the garage Throttle
stepped forward and hugged her.
"Haven't seen you in a while baby" he smiled.
Vinnie snickered. Knight and Modo tried to hold back grins.
"Ok, now that, that's out of the way, maybe I can explain whats going on" Carbine pulled away from Throttle. " Knight here is the expert on Concentration Camps" she motioned to General Knight. Knight made a graceful half bow, flicking his saber out in a gesture of respect.
"What happened to my brother!?" Charlie broke in, she looked worried, and her eyes were red as if she had been crying.
Poor girl, she probably hasn't slept in ages.
"He and Stoker were captured during a stakeout by Olympia Mons" Knight patted her on the shoulder " If I know Centerline he's already out and heading back to the Red Tower" he comforted her. Charlie nodded and gulped back a sob.
Knight had a way with people that way.
Olympia Mons, Camp 27
Centerline sat on the floor, his head in his hands, Stoker leaned on
a nearby wall, his son sat by his feet. Streak had started to pace again.
The sound of her boots rang out in the silence of the prison.
"When the hell are we going to get out of here!" Chase said violently and suddenly looked up at the door.
Streak knocked on the bars with her fist. The rat who was guarding them waved his blaster at her nose, Streak made a face at him.
"I don't think that'll work" Centerline looked up from the palms of his hands.
"Well someone suggest a plan, I'm at a loss" Streak replied, sighed and started to fiddle with the laces of her boots, tieing and untying them.
"Jump em when he brings our rations in" Stoker got to his feet, he looked thoroughly pleased with himself, sortta.
There goes my back again!
"That only works in the movies" Centerline smiled and flopped to the ground.
"Hey don't kid yourself Center, I once escaped from a Plutarkian Prison using that" Stoker gave Centerline a look that could have frozen ice.
"Ok, we'll do it" Centerline held up his hands and tail and in deference to Stokers icy glare.
"So who's gonna be the bait?" Chase looked up from the floor. The young mouse looked doubtful.
This is going well.
Tracer looked up from her final landing off the course. She had done
it five times already, and was just starting to feel the fatigue.
I can run this again.
The reddish mouse sat down on a rock and wiped her brow. She sat beck and looked at the sky, a twinge in her mind suddenly caused her snap her head back up.
An explosion of movement by the garage entrance caught her eye. Tracer got up from the rock she was sitting on and ran over to the entrance.
The source of the commotion was a large gritty, black bike that had just rolled into the yard. The bike was one of those bikes that were overly aggressive and overly protective of their Riders.
If ever one was, this one was.
Most of the mice that were originally trying to control it had given up, but two mice were still attempting to get the enraged bike under control. Tracer recognized them as Stoker's sidekick: Rimfire and the mechanic Kickstart.
She was justa bout to dive into the fray when Kickstart managed to swing himself onto the bike's black seat. He bent down and pulled a wire out of the engine. Sure fire way to calm it down.
With it's engine down the bike made some indigent sounds at Kickstart who stuck his tongue out at it. The bike made a sound that sounded like a frog with a sore throat trying to sing.
Tracer could feel worry from them.
"You know I think this is Streak's bike" Rimfire rubbed some of the grit off the bike's seat and gas cap reveling the white strip.
After a small argument this was the setup. Stoker and Chase being the
smaller of the four were to hide by handing onto a drain pipe on the ceiling,Streak
was to hide behind the door where the guard couldn't see her and that left
Centerline to be the bait.
He sat on the floor chewing on a strand of hair.
He was looking up at the ceiling, specifically at a moth that had was fluttering around Stoker's nose. Stoker was very desperately trying to keep from sneezing.
Very funny, but you need a red rubber nose to make it perfect.
Centerline looked at the door as he heard the sounds of foot steps on the passageway outside.
Streak made a furtive gesture from behind the door.
"Some ones coming" she mouthed.
Centerline straightened his posture on the wall and looked up one last time at Stoker fighting with the moth.
Don't make any noise old friend.
The rat walked down the hall, not one of the smarter of the spices he didn't bother to take out his blaster when he started to open the cell, the door swung open. Only one mouse was in it! The big white one leaned innocently on the wall.
"Where are the rest?" he spun his head around, seeing no one the rat turned back to Centerline who looked lazily around the room.
"They died" he replied his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Suddenly: " AHHH-CHOOOO!!" Stoker sneezed violently as the moth finally hit the weak point of his nose. The rat looked up, seeing Chase and Stoker hanging on the drain pipe he started to pull his blaster out of it's holster.
"Yeeaaahhhh!" Chase let go of the drain pipe and crashed down on the rat, landing, as he went, an uppercut in his jaw, the rat bit dust and Chase rolled away from it and landed in front of Streak who stepped out from behind the door.
"That gonna leave a mark" Streak commented at the unconscious rat and helped Chase up. Then both her and Centerline looked up at Stoker.
"Sorry about that" he let go of the drain pipe,and looked guilty. Seeing the offending moth fluttering near the door he wiped his hand out to capture it, flattening it on the wall as he did so. I think that was his original intent.
"Lets move, We've still got a chance of getting out of here" Stoker brushed himself consciously off and started to walk towards the door.
"Wait" Streak stopped to grab the blaster from the rat. "This might be useful" she tossed it to Stoker. The four started to make their way out of the cell block, the corridors were dank and dirty, smelling, of dead and decomposing flesh. Centerline wrinkled his nose at the smell. Stoker grimaced. Along the sides thousands of cell blocks lined the walls, each one held captives, POWs and other pour souls. Most of them, mostly skin and bones, others dying from simple things and exhaustion. Altogether a terrible sight. Streak gasped in horror at the prison, of all the mice around, she had always seemed to be the most susceptible to pain and suffering. Must be a side effect of what Karbunkle did to her mind.
"We gotta help them" Streak finally managed to get out, "It's not right" she turned around.
Centerline sometimes found Streak's sudden changes in mood unnerving. They came sometimes at to worst times. Like now.
"She's right" Stoker scanned to blocks. "No Martian deserves this" he walked over to an exit and started to open the door to the rest of the complex.
Maybe it's better this way?