Disclaimer: I do not own the Biker Mice From Mars. This story is for your reading pleasure. I do not make a profit from this. I'm writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Karn and her background come from an unrelated and unfinished novel. This story wasOriginally released to the board in early 1998 and then removed for a re-write later thatyear. Sorry to make you wait so long, Morning! There will be more to come. This drawing and background displayed here was created by Morning.

Prologue: In the constellation of Cygnus, the swan, about 10 light years from Earth, a small, private fleet of Plutarkian material transport ships arrived in orbit over the 4th planet in sector 141. A huge space bucket they had dragged with them situated itself in low orbit over the pale blue, partially ice covered planet. At a single command, all of the Plutarkian ships targeted, and fired at a huge city complex on the surface of the planet. Within minutes, the entire city had vanished from the surface of the planet to end up in pieces inside the huge container. No life remained. The city was gone, the smell of dust wafting among the still falling rubble made the vast emptyness of the place more like an open grave. Almost instantly, a small band of tiny ships rose from the planet's surface, like a fleet of angry hornets from a battered hive. A few minutes later, no Plutark remained.

A few months later.

A small, unmarked scout ship, made entirely of stone phased into normal space just inside the orbit of the Earth’s only moon. Its sensors had brought it here, over ten light years from its place of origin. It rolled languidly, silent in the blackness of space, scanning the area with its twin rear pylons. The pale, sand textured pylons were easily the length of its body, which was nearly flat and oval shaped. As it rolled lazily, the spike covered top of the ship turned out of sight to reveal the flat, unmarked surface of its underbelly. The enemy was here, someplace. The pylons swept the area with a scanning phase, tuned to one scent only, the DNA signature of the invaders who had dared to ravage home world and destroy the city of children.

The Lupercan scout ship stopped its rolling motion. The sensors had detected two sources of the enemy, the stronger of the two was coming from the fourth planet, the red one. The smaller signal was coming from the water planet, beneath the scout. The lone pilot, a female, flipped the tip of her shaggy tail absently, much like someone would tap their fingertips. Which source should be investigated first? Karn’s four fingered hands slid lightly over the light sensitive controls, re-activating the scanning phase for a more detailed report of the enemy’s numbers. The scout ship began to rotate again. The ship turned to point the business end of the pylons at the blue, water planet, seeking the location and number of the enemy.

She was alone and she didn’t want to be detected by the enemy. All she needed was the coordinates of their home world before she would send the probe back to Dau. Neither one of these planets had the numbers present to indicate that she had found Plutark. Karn though over possible plans of action as she absently pulled a handful of her mixed, gray, black, brown, and white colored hair back behind her ear. Her long hair blended into a thick mane, which covered most of her shoulder blades and tapered into her three-foot long, dark brown tipped tail, the tip of it flipping up and back like a pointing finger, as she considered her options.

There were several Plutark bases here, small ones, and all of them located in major cities. Karn shut down the scanner and activated the cloaking phase. The spikes on the top of the small ship shimmered, silently, causing a ghostly, not quite there effect as the ship phased out of normal space. The scout sat between existence and non-existence, riding the space between real, and not there. Karn would find one of the Plutarkian bases, slip in and get the home world coordinates from their own database. Simple, no problem.

It is a good plan, she decided. Karn stared at the beautiful planet below for a moment, wondering if the inhabitants knew of the invaders on their world. Fiends. They would not escape this time. As the ship silently entered the atmosphere, it slipped into invisibility, phasing itself more into the dark, still rolling slightly as it descended slowly, much like a shark slipping into the darkness of an ocean. Karn had decided on the city by the large lake called Chicago.

*******

The Lupercan scout appeared over the Tower in Limburger Plaza. The beginning of the end for the Plutark homeworld. The scout floated in an invisible, phased out mode only a few feet from a large window at the 40th floor level. Two large males were in the room, and seemed to be arguing about something. Karn watched them silently as images of home drifted though her mind.

The Plutark attack on Dau was merciless. Karn’s anger grew as she remembered the total destruction of Karbor Prime, as she stared at the two figures in the room. Nearly one million dead. The city of children was gone forever, and Dau’s future with it. Nothing but an empty plot of land was left now. They had transported the entire city into space, into some sort of space bucket. All of the Dau’s children were dead. Karn’s generation would be the last one.

She glanced at the dark skies, feeling anger, wanting to destroy them here and now as she saw these two, not caring for a moment if she got what she came for. Not remembering through her rage what an electrical storm could mean for her ship.

Stupid of them to attack us, she thought, the simple arrogance of them! Dau’s dark matter technology was light years ahead of most of the galaxy. Plutarkian ships were still mechanical.

The Lupercan scouts, Dau’s simple transport fleet, had sliced over fifty Plutark ships into small pieces moments after the attack. Their ships were no match for the even the simple scout series. Those fish that survived the retaliation, had become a victory banquet. A small vengeance, but a sweet one. The Lupercan had not seen fish of that species before.asPlutarkians were unknown to them in the Cygnus sector. The only information they were permitted to ask of the Galactic Council was a history of the Plutark, not the location. Karn and others were on a mission to find homeworld.

"Some victory." Karn muttered to herself.

With Karbor Prime gone, she thought, we are dead already. Seeming to sense her anger, her scout, number 4714 moved in a little closer to the window. The small, flat, oval shaped spacecraft had no windows or ports. She "saw" only through the scout’s optical sensors, using the simlink embedded in her brain. Moving closer to the window would make no difference. She barely noticed the change in position.

Karn’s blue eyes filled with cold, calculating purpose, darkening as her gaze centered on her target. They think they are the masters of the Galaxy. They had to know who we are. They HAD to have KNOWN! Those CONTEMPTUOUS WORM EATERS! They destroyed the one city-state that couldn’t be rebuilt. Every child, every Bio/Generation Center, on the entire planet was gone. Forever. Someone gave them that particular city to target, someone who knew its purpose. Maybe one of their own? Karn blocked out that thought. No. Not possible. It had to be someone else that had been there before and survived. Karn made a note to ask someone if that possiblity was being researched. She barely noticed the rain beginning outside as she considered that last thought.

The two huge figures in the office continued their argument. The larger one appeared to be cringing before the one in the purple clothes. That one was continually slapping at the larger one. She wondered if one or both of them were Plutark. Neither one appeared to be of a fish species. Maybe they also used converters to change form? Karn's memories invaded interfering with her attention on the figures in that office. She pushed the thoughts away, irritated at her lack of focus.

Karn felt tears of rage clouding her eyes as she watched them. Those overconfident, pompous, slimy assassins of children. And now, Plutark will not survive. There were over 500 scouts searching the galaxy for them. They have signed their own letter of extinction.

Dau’s councils didn’t expect any criticism from the PGC. Most of the Planetary Galactic Council’s members were fish species and feared the return of the Lupercan Empire. The Empire's favorite choice had been fish as a food source. The PGC had so far, turned a blind eye to Dau's search for the Plutark. Typical of politicians. She stared at the figures behind the rain-spattered glass, wondering if the arguing males were ever going to stop fighting. The huge dripping one looked ready to run away.

The scout’s invisible form hovered silently less than 5 feet from Limburger’s office window, more than 40 floors from the ground. She could see a large, heavyset male creature, wearing purple, with a small tuff of hair on top of his head. He was walking back and forth, waving his huge arms and shouting at another large, extremely large, bald male. It was amusing, but it did not improve her state of mind. Centering her gaze on the fat, round one, she growled softly low in her throat, as she thought of sinking her fangs deep into his chubby, thick neck. A crash of thunder startled Karn, waking her out of her little fantasy.

It began to rain harder. Karn forced her eyes away from the two males, and focussed her attention on the approaching storm. The scout was phased slightly out of normal space, so she knew she couldn’t be seen or detected by sensors. Thunder rumbled low as the gray blue clouds to the west of the tower deepened in color. Karn noted this, and decided she had plenty of time to study the situation and get this done right. She got out of her chair and stretched, then walked around the back of the chair and leaned on it, trying to break the awful mood she had worked herself into.

Karn looked around at the sparse emptiness of the command cabin. Phase mode made everything look unreal, dark, and without depth. The nearby storm was raising the static in the room, and it made her fur itchy. Karn laid her head over her arms and laid her weight onto the back of the chair and shut her eyes. Dark, empty cabin. She wished for home again, to just be back in her own city, to see the bay at sunset once more. Got to make a plan and calm down, she thought. She’d developed a short fuse after 3 months alone in this tiny ship.

She’d been cruising about the galaxy for over 3 months and she was sick of it. After losing Jarras, her co-pilot, 2 months ago, she’d been in isolation. And Karn didn’t like being alone. This was her first off planet journey away from Dau, and being alone so far from home world made her tense. Now she’d be going home soon, maybe today, if nothing else goes wrong.

Karn linked to the scout. The simulated comlink embedded in her brain connected instantaneously to the scout’s bio command system. The ship responded immediately through her simlink.

*47, how many Plutarks are in there?*

*One*

The rain was getting heavier, Karn could now see it passing through the scout’s partially phased cabin. She looked back up at the slowly rolling clouds. It had grown considerably darker in the past few minutes. Should be enough time for this, she thought. Karn went back to her command chair and settled back in it.

*Where is the Plutark?*

*You are observing it now*

47 displayed the image of the fat, purple one to Karn.

Karn studied the two figures. The larger male seemed to be cringing, as the slightly smaller one continued to wave his arms about and pointed at the floor several times. The skin of the large, bald one seemed to be covered in dark liquid. The scout magnified its optical sensor to give Karn a closer look at the creature's skin.

Karn’s face curled up in astonishment. His skin was dripping oily looking sweat, actually drooling the black, slimy looking stuff on the floor! The smaller male was pointing there again.

Makes sense. Karn thought as she sat back in her chair again. It’s angry because the other is drooling on floor. So the angry one is the Plutark. Fish don’t drip liquid. Thunder rumbled again, closer now, but Karn didn’t notice it this time, her urgent need to finish this job quickly held her attention.

*47, scan the building and locate their computer core, then take me there for a drop.*

*Scanning*

The scout fell silent.

How odd. It’s never done that before.

*47, scan info and drop location now.*

More silence. Karn groaned, her mood dropped into the dark. My luck is still rotten, she thought miserably. If this ship fails, I’m stuck here, I can’t fix it! Silly Jar, why did you have to mess with that stupid Plutark transporter, anyway? It was obsolete and worthless, you just had to mess with it, didn’t you? And now I might get stuck here! She slapped at the glowing sandstone panel on the arm of her chair. It brightened, but didn't react. Lights on, but nobody’s home.

*4714! Answer me!!!*

Nothing. She glanced back at the tower’s window. The storm was heavy now.

The rain running down Limburger’s windows was blurring the view. The rain was pouring down now. Too late, Karn looked up, just as a burst of lightning lit the sky. The thunder cracked loudly, very near the scout, causing Karn to jump in her seat. Her heart raced, startled by the noise. And worse, the Plutark was looking right at her, his jaw dropped open, his eyes wide and staring. HE SEES THE SCOUT!!!

*47! EMERGENCY AB9!! *

The scout dropped like a rock, taking Karn’s stomach with it, allowing full gravity to pull its re-phasing form towards the ground at a dizzying speed. Karn held on to her chair, her heart in her throat. Yeesh, this really BITES! Karn swallowed back, her stomach churning. Why did I have to say AB9?

The scout fell. A small, tight, sampler beam shot out from it, seeking a form to replicate. It found, and hit a passing vehicle on the ground below. As it approached the ground, the scout popped completely into normal space, and replicated into a duplicate of the vehicle it had sampled.

The scout in the appearance of an old, rust flecked, faded, army green step van hit the ground heavily in Limburger Plaza. It rocked and swayed heavily on its creaking springs. Karn was thrown to the floor. Her head was virtually swimming, and her stomach wasn’t to think about.

*47! Get moving, copy vehicle protocol!*

It went, its engine knocking in protest, as it squealed across Limburger Plaza, leaving black marks on his sidewalks as it ran towards the streets. Karn groaned, and swallowed again, as she tried to get back into one of the two chairs the scout now had. The jumping, swaying motion of the step van was making it hard. Karn’s stomach rolled in protest at the movement of the van. She wasn’t accustomed to such violent motion.

She grabbed the edge of one chair and hauled herself into it. The van lurched sideways into a right turn, hurling her into the chair which apparently wasn’t designed for tails. Yowwch! Her tail burned like a stubbed toe. She’d bent her tail the wrong way and the pain was fierce! These chairs are nasty! The one she’d crawled onto was well worn, greasy, with a hollow in the center, but she still managed to kink her tail trying to sit in it. Her stomach was threatening total revolution, she had to get out!

Karn looked out the windshield and saw nothing, the rain ran in streaks over the glass blurring the gray day even more.

* 47, fix the window view, I can’t see. And SLOW DOWN!**

Small rubber blades suddenly began to sweep the glass, clearing the view of the street as the van slowed a bit. The right blade moved out of sync, slower than the left one. The windshield cleared. The street was unlit, but she could see quite well in the dark. There wasn’t much to see except for crumbling buildings and craters. It looked like a heavy battle area…. But there! To the right was a field of rumble, with the remains of a building still standing in it.

*47! Go there and stop.*

It turned, lurching over the curb and the debris, starting the van’s body to sway again. Karn’s stomach lurched with it.

*47, STOP THIS MOTION! NOW!*

It stopped hard, its rear end skidding around to rest along side the remaining wall of the battered building. Karn was thrown sideways against the other chair, slamming her back good in the process.

*Ohh, I really hate you, you evil little machine.*

Karn groaned. Her stomach had had enough, and was ready for action. Got to get out now. Her tail and back ached like a sore tooth, when she tried to pull herself up, grabbing at the slippery, grease slimed chair. Grease? She looked at her hand, dark with the stuff. It did not help her mood a bit.

*Order not comprehended, request command.*

*47, shut up, and open the door. And delete the grease characteristics from the interior of this transport’s form.*

Karn had gotten up, her face pale and ashen, and was leaning on one of the sliding doors. The grease stains vanished from the chairs as if they had never existed. The door slid open and she toppled out, face down, straight into the mud. She raised up on all fours, mud dripping from her face, and let her stomach have its way with her. In frustration, she thrust her leg out and kicked the offending van. Her foot landed solidly, and gave a resounding hollow bang, knocking off a few flecks of rust. This was turning out to be a very interesting day, indeed. Nasty machine. She kicked it again, getting some satisfaction from seeing a rusty bit of metal fall from it.

The rain was coming down heavily, but it was soothing after that sickening ride. Karn got up and leaned against the van’s body, letting the rain pelt her face. Felt good, she thought, as the cool water stuck her face. She always liked the rain. She looked up into the still dark skies and watched the lightning flash and dance through the slowly moving clouds. A really bad start to sneaking in that place. Jar would have said a typical "KARNival of errors, at this one. Oh, she missed even Jar's crude attempts at humor. She wondered if Jarras was even still alive, wherever that device sent her to.

Should’ve paid more attention to the storm, then come back later. The scout sat silent. Karn glanced at it. It was in an ugly form, all green, dented, and boxy. But then, she hadn’t seen anything pretty here. This metro looked like a war zone, and the greasy citizen she’d seen was repulsive. And the only way a Plutark looked good was grilled, and on a bun with trill sauce.

The building scan. That was five minutes ago. Why didn’t the scout answer her about that? It appeared to be obeying her other commands.

*47, did you scan the building?*

*Scan completed, analysis in progress.*

Still analyzing? Karn wondered at that. Something is really wrong here, shouldn’t be any time involved in a scan! Karn turned to the door and climbed back in. She sat down carefully on one of the chairs and looked around. The muddy water from her soaked tail quickly filled the hollow spot in the chair. Her fur was already heavy with it from her fall. The rain pounded, reverberating on the flat metal roof of the van. Curious, she got up and went to the back of the van to see what was back there. Maybe a few towels?

One of the wall panel lights lit up the cabin in a soft, warm glow of yellow light.

It appeared to be some sort of mobile home. Well, Karn thought, A camper is a good choice if I was staying, but I’m not. She opened a panel under the bed and found towels. Grabbing a couple of those, she went back to the passenger chair and sat down on the edge.

*47, scan analysis info?*

*Analysis in progress.*

*47, do a self analysis before you complete scan analysis.*

*Analysis complete. System is efficient. Re-initializing building scan analysis.*

Its answer was instantaneous. So why is the scan taking so much time? Uneasiness crept into the back of her mind. Maybe she should at least report her location to another scout, before doing anything else.

*47, locate 4713 and report our location.*

*Done. Scout 4713 confirms communication*

Karn felt a little better. Traynor knows where she is, now. If anything really bad happened, 47 would call the other scout the instant it lost communication with her. Traynor would be here in seconds. Karn felt a little calmer now. She rubbed a towel at her still dripping hair as she listened to the sound of the rain on the van's roof panels. It was calming, the rain.

Got to make a plan, and quickly. How much did that fish see anyway?

Did it know what a Lupercan scout looked like? She knew better than to stay near lightning, but she hadn't been paying enough attention to notice the condition of the storm.

Lightning ionized the sub particles located in normal space, and caused a halo effect, outlining a partially phased ship. She knew that, and just didn’t really think about it, and now her carelessness may have tipped off the enemy. He might be transporting out right now, destroying the data she came for. She dropped the towel and got up, heading

for the storage bay, then stopped. It didn't exist right now. It was still a van cabin.

*47, re phase current interior to the scout interior*

*Done*

The short, narrow hall to the rear bay reformed, appearing as a doorway in the center of the van's cabin room. She walked past her living quarters in the scout's midsection and past the dark core to the rear bay. The rough, sand-textured floor and beige ceramic walls were dimly lit by a small light strip overhead running the length of the hall. She found the small, four-inch long laser knife quickly, and attached it to the back of her left hand. The universal data system link was in the lower docking bay. She went to get it, not realizing the trouble she was about to get into, but she was already getting a bad feeling about this mission. Finding it, she quickly returned to the portion of the scout, which was still step van. She attached it to her right arm after she checked its power cell.

*47, re-phase vehicle interior*

*Done*

*47, give me info on your current form’s operation, local language, and protocol

on this city.*

Got to hurry. The feeling of urgency, of something about to happen, was making her nervous. She had to get moving. The information she’d asked for flowed into her brain. Karn slid the door shut, and half leaning, half sitting on the driver’s chair, keyed the engine to life, and found the switches for the lights and wipers. The van rolled and swayed over the debris again, and reaching the street, headed back to Limburger Tower.

On second thought, maybe she shouldn’t use the lights. The Plutark may notice. She didn’t need the light anyway, she could see quite well in the dark. Karn flipped off the light switch. Sitting on the edge, Karn gripped the huge, round steering wheel, and grappled with it, trying to keep the van straight on the road. And it wasn’t working, even with the info the scout had given her. The petals were hard to reach, as she was more leaning on the seat than sitting on it. It wasn’t designed for large tails. This really bites, Karn thought, feeling frustration rising again.

*47, take over navigation, and where is my scan data?*

Karn let go of the wheel and getting up, moved to stand between the chairs. Both of the seats were mud caked now, and filthy. Karn plucked off some of the drying, caked mud on her fur. It stank. Her thick and bushy tail was still damp, still dripping the stuff. She flicked away a piece she’d picked off her shoulder fur. Not like the nice molo mud baths in the sauna lounge. Just plain, sticky mud, full of gravel and other gooey things. Well, her hair wasn't too bad, since she took the time to towel the water from it.

*Done. Scan analysis complete.*

Karn was afraid to hear it. No scan had ever taken over a second, that she knew of. Either the scout had problems that couldn’t be detected, or this situation was real trouble.

*Dark matter core detected, anti-Baryon shielding. Standard bucky ball matrix core with interior anti-Lepton field at twelve percent *

*47, stop motion*

The copy of a Chevy step van pulled over, and stopped. They were in sight of the Tower, straight ahead less than two blocks now. Anti-Baryon. That explains why it took so long. The scout can’t handle anti-Baryon, because it is the opposite. That type of shielding disrupts navigation in non-space. If they ever got it to working, the Plutark would be a serious threat to the Lupercan. Karn looked out the windshield, to see if anyone was watching her. The tower was dark, nearly all of the lights were out, and the streets leading to it were deserted. Maybe he didn't see the scout after all.

Karn’s heart skipped a beat, then throbbed faster in fear. Oh no….. She looked up at the dark tower again, wondering how, where did they get it? Did the Plutark develop this, or did one of their people give it to them? A chill ran down her back, as the stinking feeling returned. That's a scary thought, one she would rather not think about. She shivered involuntarily, more from the thought than the cold, damp mud. Was it a weapon to disrupt their ships, or were they trying to develop phased space travel?

A brief flash of lightening in a nearby cloud illuminated the tower in a blue, white light. Looked like a bad omen, she thought. A feeling of dread, and fear washed over her. Karn slumped into the passenger chair, forgetting the mud there. Maybe I should call Traynor, let him do this, she thought, as she wondered what to do about the device in the tower.

Anti-Baryon shielding wasn’t stable. And a anti-lepton interior at 12! This explained why the scout refused to drop her in. The scout’s shielding was Baryon, but with a positive lepton charge of 43 percent. If she had phased through the building, the reaction would have taken the scout and the entire tower complex with it into non-space without navigation coordinates. A one way trip to non-existence.

But if they have a core with a Baryon shield, they are very close to finishing it. Where did they get the info? The Plutark transporter Jarras had disappeared in leapt into her mind unintentionally. She pushed the thought out, not wanting to think about it.

Did they have a phase converter? Karn felt a race of cold fear run down her spine, raising the fur ridge up the middle of her mud soaked mane as she looked back at the tower.

I think maybe I better find out how much they know, and if this Plutark is the only one with the information. I can handle this, I don't need Traynor.

*47, relate new info to scout 4713, and request standby status*

*Done. Scout 4713 confirms communication at standby status*

*Scout 4713 requests explanation of standby*

Tell them there is only one Plutarkian per city state, and I am investigating the single Plutarkian presence in one city. Send them the data on the red planet. Karn simlinked this to the scout, but wished she could talk to Kylo in person. He was with Traynor in scout 4713. She missed him terribly, and after losing Jarras, she felt terribly alone in this ugly city state.

*Done --4713 will investigate the Plutarkian presence on the red planet*

Just do it. She told herself miserably, get it done, so I can go home.

*47, resume motion, park next to a air delivery duct system, and add markings to your sides proclaiming air system repair*

*Done*

A few minutes later, an army green Chevy Step Van bearing the logo of Robertson’s HVAC Repair backed up to a large air conditioning unit at the back of Limburger’s main tower. Karn studied the unit, looking for an entrance into the air duct system, and found one.

*47, locate core source by floor level and report location*

*Third floor, 40 feet inward east from our location*

Lucky, for once, she thought, not too far in. This tower is huge, and it could’ve been the top floor. This Plutark may be the one responsible for the attack on Karbor Prime. It is too convenient that he just happens to have our technology. If this is the only existing dark matter core, then I’ll just blast this tower before Plutark prime gets the data. After I get the coordinates of Plutark, that is. She thought of Jarras again. Karn shivered involuntarily. If Plutark prime already has this, then I may already be homeless. I hope I’m not too late. Karn checked the system comlink on her right arm, and the laser knife on the other. I guess I’m ready. She slid open the van’s door and got out into the rain. Just get it done.

*47, initiate procedure DE on standby status* The scout would destroy the tower instantly if she lost simlink contact with it. She didn’t like DE, but it was protocol for this mission.. If she was dead or unconscious, the rule was leave nothing for the enemy but ruins.

*Done, standing by*

Karn sneaked through the dark to the bottom of the main air duct, and sliced a hole big enough to crawl into with her laser knife. Taking a deep breath, she climbed in and disappeared into the belly of Limburger’s Tower.

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

At the Scoreboard base, about the same time, a game of Chinese Checkers is in progress. It was Modo’s turn, but Vinnie was way past the final stages of boredom and into a hyperactive "want some action" sort of mood. Vinnie stared at Modo, his eyes darting from Modo’s face to the board and back again, like a lotto player checking his numbers. Throttle was more than a little bored with the game.

"HEY! No fair bro!" Vinnie shouted, "That was an illegal jump!"

"It was good and you know it, Vinnie." Modo leaned back and grinned. Chinese checkers was his best game, one Vinnie couldn’t beat him at often.

"Throttle, you saw it, it’s not legal, right, Am I RIGHT?" Vinnie wasn’t giving up.

"You lost, Vinnie". Modo said, grinning widely.

"No way, bro, I’m sittin this one out." Throttle knew how this game would end, and got up from the table, his chair making a screeching sound as he pushed it back. He decided he’d rather lube his bike than join in this time. Throttle walked over to the tool chest and began rooting through the jumble of tools while Vinnie and Modo continued their quiet conversation.

He was preparing the grease gun when Vinnie, roaring with good humor, launched himself across the table at Modo. Throttle turned to look for a second, to see if they had broken the game board. Nope. Still in one piece. Modo flipped over and threw Vinnie halfway across the Scoreboard’s interior. They always broke the table, but it was the folding kind, and easy to fix.

Modo, grinning like a kid, threw his huge bulk at Vinnie, who sidestepped Modo’s charge easily, to grab him by the arm and flipped him over. Modo skidded on his back plate into the tool chest, just missing Throttle, who looked a little bored with the whole thing. Tools flew everywhere, most of them landing on top of Modo's huge chest.

"Ha! Vinnie howled, "The bigger they are, the harder they fall!" He was enjoying himself immensely. His eyes wild with excitement, he waited for Modo to recover a bit.

"Hey, hey, bros! Throttle said, "Take it outside before you bust up the place again! We just finished repairing the furniture two days ago." Vinnie either didn’t hear him, or didn’t want to.

"AHAHAAAAAAAA!!!! Vinnie threw his smaller, muscular body at Modo. Throttle shook his head. Modo grinned evilly, ready to catch him in a headlock.

"I give up." Throttle said quietly, and carrying the grease gun, headed for his bike. Party on, bros, he thought, you’ll be busy later cleaning up the place. The radio began to bleep. Throttle went to answer it. Vinnie and Modo hadn’t noticed it yet. The noise of their battle was especially loud this time as they were still wrestling in the remains of the toolbox. He punched the receive button.

"GUYS!! GUYS!!" It was Charlie. Throttle’s boredom was going away. Charlie sounds like she’s seen something that requires their loving touch. He noticed Vinnie and Modo rolling across the room, which now looked like a junkyard. Throttle chuckled softly.

His bros certainly needed to reach out and touch somebody. Limburger had been quiet for the last three days, and Vinnie was really tuned for action. Relaxation wasn’t in his vocabulary.

He had to admit, he was bored too, and too much quiet from the Tower usually meant another major Limburger plan was in the works. They hadn’t seen a goon on the streets for three days. He had wondered if they shouldn’t go shake up the Limburger Tower tonight, just to see what the Big Stink is up to this time.

"What’s up, babe?" Throttle asked with some enthusiasm. He laid the grease gun down on the radio. Something fell behind him and made a reverberating noise as it scooted across the concrete floor.

"Throttle! I would ask you the same thing. Where are you guys, who are you fighting?"

"At the scoreboard, babe." Throttle said. The sound of battle continued in the background. Something turned over with a resounding crash. Vinnie whooped with pleasure.

"Oh, you’re home? Charlie said. "Hey, what’s that racket?"

"Vinnie and Modo." He said mildly. "Are you OK, Charlie?"

"I’m good, Throttle." Charlie said. "But somebody is rattling Limburger’s cage pretty good. His goons are shooting up the tower, and I thought you guys went without me!" Throttle whistled loudly, to catch Modo and Vinnie’s attention. They stopped immediately and looked up. Throttle jerked his head in a come here motion. Both got up and joined him at the radio.

"Throttle." Charlie said smoothly.

"Yeah, babe."

"DON"T WHISTLE ON THE RADIO! Charlie shouted, "You nearly scared me out of my wits!"

"Sorry, Charlie." Throttle said brightly. Vinnie grabbed the mike.

"Sweetheart!!" Vinnie’s face somewhat glowed with infatuation for Charlie. Modo brushed debris off of his fur while he listened intently. He needed some real action. A few goons to pound on would do him good. Vinnie was too easy.

"Can it, Vinnie." Charlie said, "Get your tail over here and pick me up. I don’t want to miss anything, I get bored too, Vinnie."

"On my way, sweetheart!" Vinnie said loudly. Charlie hung up on him.

"Owwhh, she is SO hung up on me, bros!" Vinnie ran to his bike, mounting it and starting it in one smooth motion. His tail flipped back and forth in wide arcs like a cat that was watching a bird. He revved it, grinning with excitement, eager to get going.

"Come ON, BROS!!" Vinnie yelled excitedly as he revved his engine. "We’re missing out on the ACTION!" Modo and Throttle mounted their bikes. The heavy thrumming beat of Modo’s engine joined Vinnie’s.

"Come on, a little SPEED, bros" Vinnie revved his engine again for emphasis. Throttle put his helmet on slowly, just to bug Vinnie, then kick started his own bike. It’s low, heavy tone joined the bikes’ "song of power. "

AAAHHhhh….music to my ears!" Vinnie crowed loudly. The room reverberated with sound.

"Let’s do it." Throttle gunned his bike, the heavy roar of it’s huge engine mingled with the sounds of Modo’s and Vinnie’s bikes in a soul satisfying roar of sheer power as their bikes made the leap out of the scoreboard’s window into the field.

"LET’S ROCK AND RIDE!!!"

Not one of them noticed the massive storm, the dark skies heavy with rain as they leaped into the night, as the sound of their engines mingled with the thunder rumbling low in the skies.

She could smell the odor of fresh Plutark as soon as she sliced open the air duct. It was invigorating! Made her think of filet of Plutark, marinated in trill juice, cooking over a slow grill. Karn grinned, thinking of this, as she crawled quickly down the air duct, looking for a passage up to the next floor. Maybe I’ll just take a small hunk of that fish back with me for dinner, before I blast this place.

She could almost taste it. The odor was strong here. Yes, I think maybe a big piece. The next level adjoining duct was here, and it went up, it looked like, all the way to the top of the tower. Piece of cake, Karn thought, and scrambled up two levels to the proper floor.

*47, Which way from my location*

*23 feet forward from your current position*

Karn saw air vents all along this duct, opening into a hallway on one side, and rooms on the other. One of these vents must open into the place I’m looking for. She checked her data system link. The dark core was nearby. Perfect. Karn calmed down a bit. This was getting easier, shouldn’t take long now. She began crawling with more confidence. They’d never notice her in here, and it’s a direct path to the source of the dark matter core.

There was someone in the hallway adjacent to the air duct. She could hear a small child yelling, and a male voice yelling back. Karn’s curiosity was enticed, and she crawled towards the vent the sound was coming from. She heard a loud slap, and then nothing. Her mane rose slightly at the fear scent coming from the hallway. Something was wrong here. Karn crept up quietly and pulled her blade down when she reached the vent.

Karn saw the same large, greasy bald male she had watched in the tower’s windows about 20 minutes ago. And he had a baby of some sort by her hair, shaking her. The child appeared to be a rodent or primate female, and she stood deviant, tears running down her face. She noticed the little girl creature had been injured.

Karn’s anger boiled as she saw burns, places where the white fur had burned away, to reveal blistered skin. She could smell the burn flesh, and the little one’s fear, along with the disgusting odor of black grease and male sweat coming from the other. He shook her again. Karn's ears laid back against her head involuntarily as she watched silently.

"I can’t hear you, girlie,"

"Yes, sir," The little one whispered, not showing him her fear, her deep, green eyes still staring defiantly at him. The male’s oil dripping fist was clamped tight on her brown, white streaked hair braid.

He slapped her again. Karn’s eyes glowed in smoldering anger, her muscles tensed, and her mane ridge puffed out and up, even before she knew she meant to attack. This was cruel, and that male was with the fishfry earlier. Plutark slugboy!

He raised his other hand to slap her again. A low toned growl, rolled up slowly from within her. Karn’s rage burned and overflowed into fury. Without thought, Karn exploded into action.

In a single motion, she burned off the vent cover in front of her and propelled herself at the vulgar creature holding the little girl. Karn slammed into Greasepit, her mane ridge high, small fangs bared, and snarling with frenzied, accumulated fury. Not another child!

He let go of the little girl, to grapple with her. The young, white furred child fell back on floor, screaming in blind panic.

Karn hit him chest high, twisting, snarling and entangled in his huge, beefy arms. Her small, heavy nails clawed for a grip on his oil slick shoulders, trying to gain a better position for his throat. She meant to rip it out, wanting to see the color of his blood. He grabbed her, pulling her arms away, and threw her against the wall.

The little girl’s screams intensified into high pitched, breathless shrieks of terror. Karn twisted around and launched herself at him again, in a near frenzy. He caught her in mid air by her chest and squeezed hard. Karn threw back her head, and let out a long, wailing cry. The pain was mind numbing, and immense. Her ribs felt like they were being crushed, and she couldn’t breath. That howl of pain was her last breath of air. She was blacking out. Pinpoints of dim light blurred her eyes.

"Got ya now, doggie!" Greasepit yelled, a huge grin splitting his ugly face.

Greasepit chuckling to himself, squeezed harder. Karn’s body went tight with agony. She could hear many footsteps approaching. Got to… end this…her thoughts were getting jumbled. Child…DE protocol ..core…this….can’t…get…caught.. She leaned forward and sank her small, sharp fangs deep into his huge, plate like chin. Her lips were slimed by his oily blood. Nasty. He dropped her, bawling like a baby. Karn spat the foul taste out of her mouth as she tried to get her breath back.

"Yowwwwch!! Oww, Oww, Oww, Oww!" Greasepit was jumping around in a odd kind of dance, rubbing and touching at his chin, a look of surprise on his face.

Satisfaction. Karn thought nastily. Dirty, greasy creature. He’d turned his back on her, holding his jaw in both hands, adding his incredibly loud yowling to the noise the child was making. She laid on the hallway floor in a crumpled heap, looking at the screaming child backed into a corner of the hall. The panic in the baby’s eyes was terrible to see. The fear she put there.

So sorry, little one. She closed her deep blue eyes, not wanting to see such fear. I only wanted to help you. I never thought…… Karn gasped for breath, the pain was worse then, and she whimpered in pain. But they’re coming, closer now. She could hear many steps running to their location. Karn rose to her feet, and leaned on the wall, another moan escaping. Greasepit had recovered enough to try for the girl again. That vile creature had picked up the girl by the arm and held her up as if she were a shield. Evil creature! Karn reached for her knife just as a dozen people appeared at both ends of the hallway.

"What are you doing!! Put her down! NOW!!" a woman at the front of the mass of people was screaming with pure anger at the huge greasy male holding the baby.

The woman wearing white was running down the hall towards them, with more white suits hot behind her. Out of time! They have seen her! They stopped short at the sight

of Karn, shock deep in their eyes.

"STOP DAT NOISE!" Greasepit was shaking the girl again. The little girl increased her high pitched screams. The sound seemed deafening in the now crowded hallway.

Karn’s ribs were fractured, and her head was swimming, but the fury still burned hot. He would not get that child!! She stumbled towards him from behind and stuck her blade into his huge right buttock, right up to the hilt. She flicked the laser to "on". The new, intensified sound coming from him now was now joined with the girl's shrieks.

He dropped the little girl on the floor to grab at his butt.

Karn jerked the blade back and pushed at the now screaming, oil covered, male. She noticed the child running towards the black haired female, who fell to her knees and grabbed the sobbing child. It’s done. I think the child…safe.. oh my head… the noise the greasy male creature was making was beyond description, and loud….using the last of her strength to bypass the pain, Karn leaped into the vent and disappeared.

Dr. Marie Anderson couldn’t believe what she just saw. The baby alien was trembling in her arms, still crying, and old Greasepit was holding his butt with both hands and dancing in the hall, and squealing his lungs out. And what was that mud caked thing mauling him? It looked injured. How did it get in here? Thank god, it didn’t get Lanan! Marie hugged the little girl closer, trying to stop her terrible shaking. The poor child seemed to have everything happen to her.

"Hush, Lanan, don’t cry, honey," she crooned softly. " I’m here now. Nobody’s going to hurt you sweetheart."

Lanan looked up at her, with her pale violet eyes. It hurt her heart to see such terror in her innocent eyes. Marie wiped tears from Lanan’s face slowly, as the girl calmed into stuttering, hitching sobs.

"I saw… oh…I felt..…I saw.." Lanan’s voice was raspy, and broken.

"Hush, baby, you can tell me later," Marie said, pulling her close to her chest.

" I’ve got to get you someplace safe."

The poor child must have screamed her lungs out. Greasepit’s caterwauling had stopped all of a sudden. He seemed dazed or drugged to Marie. Limburger’s goons had shown up and were trying to talk to him. Greasepit, swaying unsteadily on his feet, suddenly fell to the floor like a dead weight. She couldn’t hear much, all of them were talking at once. Marie picked up Lanan and holding her close, went down the hall past more late arriving goons. Marie wanted to get the child to a safe place. She knew what happens when that many goons gather in one place.

Karn could hear them behind her, back in the hallway. The sounds echoed loudly in the narrow space of the air duct. Another few seconds, and they would have caught her. She crawled slower now, her head down. Drawing breath was painful, and sharp. Grease and dried mud dripped from her fur, and her hand slipped in it. Karn fell on her face, biting her lip. Dizziness swirled round, clouding her senses, mixed with the hot, copper taste of her own blood.

Oh, such pain! Why did I have to lose my temper? She thought miserably, that could’ve gone better. Another plan shot to crap. I didn't get to the core, and at least a dozen people saw me! Karn laid still until the worse of it went, then raised up to crawl forward. Carefully this time. That alien child is safe for now. Got something out of it. Others were trying to get in the ducts, firing their weapons at random in the narrow passageways.

Stupid! Oh I have such a talent for STUPID! That Plutark will get away, before I can do anything, and to top all of THAT off, I let that filthy creature bust up most of my body! What a mess this is, Karn thought miserably. Someone cursed in another duct after a clattering, rolling sound, followed by another round of weapons fire. Well, at least they are clumsy, she thought. Fat, greasy smelling creatures, all of them!

And I thought this would be EASY! Oh, that really BITES! She continued her mincing crawl forward. I’m gonna get him, oh you bet, I’m gonna get that slimy, ton of lard for this! Something exploded behind her. A blast of hot air blew past her, rank with the smell of burning plastic. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Karn reached the edge of the downward air duct and rolled over into a sitting position. She wondered about the girl. What species was she? How many others like her were in that tower? Plutark have a thing for alien children, it seems. The noise in the ducts was becoming extremely loud. Sounds like they’re shooting out every wall in the building. Her head swarmed with black dizziness, she knew she couldn't last much longer in this duct. Got to hurry now.

*47! What is my location?*

*Third floor, 8 feet from outer frame wall*

Karn knew she couldn’t get down that duct. Had to take a chance. She was really hurt. She’d have 47 destroy everything before she would let a Plutark take her prisoner. But that little girl was in here, too. She cut a hole in the duct and looked around. Karn saw the wall her scout had mentioned on the other side of the downward air duct. Rolling over carefully, she crawled in that direction, clambering over the downward duct, towards the outer wall. Someone was in this duct, she could hear them coming clumsily towards her from the adjoining duct to the left. She pulled off her blade, switched it on, and sat down, facing the duct side facing the outer wall.

*47, Emergency AB3*

She slashed through the duct metal then at the wall, cutting an uneven, round hole in it, opening the air duct out to the sky beyond. She caught a brief sight of the dark sky, and felt the cool wind and rain rushing at her. Then the docking bay hatch of the scout covered it. A clanking crash behind her, and the sound of a weapon being cocked. She turned to see a bright light, searching for her, someone nearby. Karn half jumped, half fell into the scout’s open hatch. Then, the ship faded away, silently, like a ghost. It was gone, as if it had never been there.

Greasepit’s goon clambered over to the hole and looked down, and then up, at the sky. His light had reflected in its eyes, and all he had seen was something mud caked and furry, curled up in the corner of this duct against the wall. A dark shape, eyes glowing at him from the dark corner. It was some sort of animal, from the shape of it. He peered down at the pavement below. Nothing. Whatever it was didn’t fall. And he didn’t see a ship or helicopter. Cold wind and rain drifted into the open hole in Limburger’s Tower. The goon didn’t have a clue what to tell Greasepit. The grimy creature had just vanished into thin air.

The Biker Mice rolled to a stop just in front of the main Tower, their radios blasting out heavy metal music, the only sound to be heard near the silent building. The rain was falling gently in the streets, now. Throttle looked up at the battered, perforated top of the tower and could see random weapons fire flashing in a few of the upper levels near Limburger’s office. Most of the windows were blown out of the upper levels.

Whatever had happened here was over now. There weren’t any goons in the streets, and it looked like all the action had happened around Limburger’s office. Odd.

Throttle zoomed in with his helmet scanner for a closer look. The lights were mostly off, and he could see Greasepit’s goons shooting at shadows, and mostly hitting each other. Maybe somebody dropped in through the transporter that didn’t agree with the big stink cheese.

"Awwh !! Looks like we missed the party!" Vinnie said, discouraged at the lack of action. Modo grinned good-naturedly, and slapped Vinnie on the back.

"Well, bro," he replied, chuckling at Vinnie’s sullen face, "we can always start our own party." Both of them looked over at Throttle, who was still studying the building.

"Let’s shake old haddock butt up a little more." Vinnie suggested, "What you say, Throttle?"

Throttle turned to them, grinning.

"Let’s do it." He said evenly, "Somebody’s given Limburger a bad day, bros. Maybe we need to find out who that somebody is. Could be trouble. Besides, no reason to

end a good party so soon."

"Yaaahhhhhhhhooooohaaahaahaahaaaaaaa" Vinnie, gunned his engine, cranked up his radio, and was halfway up the side of Limburger’s tower, before Throttle had finished his last sentence.

Throttle sighed and shook his head slightly. Uncontrolled laughter escaped Modo, his body shook with it, as his eye followed Vinnie’s bike, boosters flaring, up the side of the tower.

"Well, We better hurry, or Vinnie’s going to bash Limburger before we can talk to ‘im." Modo said, trimming his laughter down to a few chuckles.

"Heh,heh, I'm with you Modo." Throttle said grinning. Both of them revved their engines, and raced up the wall after Vinnie. The sound of their engines and heavy metal echoed down the dark, empty streets, the flames from their boosters lit the front of Limburger Plaza like fireflies glowing from high above.

"NO! NO!" Limburger flinched, as he saw, and heard the scream of a motorcycle, heading for his office window. Again. Not now. Not them too. Limburger thought irritably, First, that thing in the window, a spy on Karbunkle’s floor, and now those revolting rodents!

"Ohhhhh, mother always said I would have days like this."

He turned and ran for his desk, punching buttons in a wild frenzy, just as the window exploded inward. It was the white one. Limburger groaned. But why, oh why, do I have so MANY days like this? He wondered.

"HEY, STINKPUSS!"

Vinnie's bike slid to a stop against Limburger’s desk, bumping it into Limburger. Limburger fell back, landing flat on his ample, well padded butt. Throttle and Modo slid to a stop, seconds later, right beside Vinnie.

The loud, blasting sound of "The Shortest Straw" by Metallica blared in his ears. (challenge liberty) The gray one was laughing his furry little head off. Typical. He thought, resigned to the inevitable outcome. His ears ached already from the noise pollution coming from their radios.

I should have surmised they would arrive. Limburger got up, and straightened his suit. He stood in a stately manner, as if he were in a business meeting. (live in infamy)

"What, may I ask," Limburger said smoothly, "Do you want now? And do you MIND turning off that repugnant clamor?" (rub you raw)

Modo grinned, and cranked his radio to the max.. (this shortest straw has been pulled for you) Limburger quickly covered his ears and grimaced. Vinnie howled in laughter, and twisted his radio as high as it would go. (your hell is multiplied)

Throttle chuckled, enjoying Limburger’s hatred of heavy metal music. (the fallout has begun)

"Cut it, bros," he said, "I want to hear what ole feta face has to say."

They reluctantly turned the radios down to a mild roar, but left them on. Apparently, they had to have some tunes to bash his goons by. Limberger gave them a dirty look. Detestable taste in music, if one could call it that. He put his hands down, and began to brush the dust and debris from his hair. (oppressive damage done)

Their engines grumbled, and their music was reverberating through what was left of his office. Dust, glass and water littered what had been a new carpet, only two days ago. With Greasepit around, he had to replace the carpet on a weekly basis. (your many turned to none) Repulsive music! Limberger thought miserably, no sane mind could tolerant that for long.

Throttle was watching him intently. As usual. The others were apparently waiting for his signal. Limberger cringed slightly, involuntary. He stared back at Throttle, and grinned. Evil, flea bitten hamsters, he thought to himself. Your turn to cringe is coming. Oh yes, indeed. (with vertigo make you dead) Horrid noise! He brushed at his arm, trying to appear composed and calm. He picked off a few flecks of glass.

" If you don’t mind, I’d like to retire for the night." Limburger said. "I’ve had a rather arduous day." (shortest straw has been pulled for you)

"Yeh, we noticed." Modo said. "Why are your goons shooting up your tower, cheese whiz? Did you miss us, and decide to blow it up yourself this time?" Throttle and Vinnie laughed agreeably at this, enjoying his predicament.

"Hey, party peoples!" The voice of Sweet Georgie Brown bellowed from their radios. "Here’s another Metallica tune for ya! "AND JUSTICE FORRR ALLLL!" Limburger flinched. That song was by far, worse than the one before it. Those wretched rodents are going to kill me with that nauseating noise. He thought with resignation. Ohhh, I YEARN for this day to be over. (halls of justice painted green)

The white mouse, unable to resist, turned his radio up again. (power wolves beset your door) Limburger didn’t react this time. Instead, he straightened his tie. (soon you’ll please their appetite) He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. In spite of the fact that the clashing screech of that noise grated on his ears like nails on a chalkboard. (they devour)

"Hey, no fair starting the party without us!" Vinnie shouted.

"Wheeuuhh!" Throttle said, "Does it smell a little worse in here than usual?" (hammer of justice crushes you)

"Nah, Vinnie said giggling, "Seems like the same old stench to me, bro!"

"Seems a little riper than most days to me." Modo grinned evilly at Limburger. (overpower)

"Mind telling us why your goons are shooting up the tower?" Throttle asked quietly, studying Limburger’s reactions closely. He had been plucking at his necktie, absently. (the ultimate in vanity) He put his hands down on his desk.. (exploiting their supremacy)

"Not that it’s any of your business." Limburger crooned, "But I know you vicious weasels won’t leave until I tell you ." He leaned heavily on his desk and said quietly, in almost a whisper.

"It’s simply a labor problem." He said. "A little altercation over pay raises and promotion assignments. Nothing really." Limburger looked at them expectantly. (justice is lost)

"Now, If I may be so bold to ask," Limburger said politely, "Would you please leave?"

"Sorry, barnacle butt." Throttle said, "But we’re just gonna check out your building for ourselves."

He revved up, increasing the racket with the heavy, low toned roar of his engine. As he whipped his bike towards the hall, the other mice turned with him, as one. (justice is raped)

"Maybe, just maybe, we’ll leave your tower standing tonight." Throttle yelled on his way out, "IT’S TAIL WHIPPIN TIME!!"

"Yeh," Modo shouted back, "We're a little tired tonight."

He blew out a large portion of the wall connecting to the hall with his arm cannon. Throttle flashed through the ragged hole, his engine roaring. (find it so grim) Modo was right behind him.

"Ta, Ta, Tubby!" Vinnie howled, "Here’s a little nightcap for ya!" (so true so real)

Vinnie tossed something, and then burning rubber, vanished into the hallway after the others. The fading echoes of "And Justice for All" followed them.

The reek of burning carpet filled the office. Limburger’s eyes fell to the object the white one had tossed. It was ticking.

"Oh, wonderful."

Limburger barely had time to duck behind his desk before it blew up, with a resounding boom. Plaster and pieces of everything else rained down on his head. He laid on his belly, tapping his fingers on the floor. A irate look on his face. The sound of more weapons and shattering glass sounded from a couple of floors down. They where headed for the third floor. No, no, no they mustn’t see that.

Limburger rose up too quickly, and knocked his head on the bottom of the desk. He grabbed his mask by the hair, and ripping it off, threw it across what was left of his office. He slapped his hand down on the interoffice comm.

"KARBUNKLE! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU ENCEPHALETIC HEADCASE!!!"

Karbunkle answered immediately. Limburger glared at the receiver. The dust and smoke floating about the office was irritating his gills. He wanted a bath, and his bed, very badly. He pulled at his trousers, readjusting them for more comfort.

"You called, Oh Flatulently Fragrant One?" Karbunkle crooned eagerly.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!" Limburger shouted angrily. "The Biker Mice are in the building.!"

"Why, on the third floor, Your Cheddar Cheesiness."

"Did you get that untidiness cleaned up in the hallway? I don’t want those bothersome vermin seeing anything." He remembered the window.

" Oh, and, Karbunkle, did your sensors reveal any information about that cloaked ship outside of my suite’s window?" A falling hunk of plaster hit him square on the head. Wincing, he slapped it away.

"Oh, of course, Your Overripeness. " Karbunkle keened.

"They won’t find a thing. Everyone has vacated the area, and I’ve even had the hallway mopped down. There was quite a lot of mud and grease spattered about. As for the ship you thought you saw outside your window, my sensors detected nothing." Karbunkle wondered if Limburger would believe that.

"It must have been an illusion, a trick of the lightening, perhaps." Karbunkle assured him. Nothing in existence could escape my sensors, your cultured creaminess. The little incident on the third floor was the only problem here tonight.

"Are you sure, Doctor?" Limburger quickly described the ship he had seen in the window. Karbunkle assured him it could not be one of the Dau ships.

"Excellent!" Limberger crowed. Karbunkle was obviously lying. "Send Greasepit up to my private rooms as soon as those fur bearing flea factories leave the tower. He revised that. "That is, if they are so good as to leave it standing. I’m going to take a bath."

"Ahh, so sorry, Your Mozzarella Cheesiness." Karbunkle said. "Greasepit seems to be, oh should I say, a little under the weather?"

"The creature that attacked him apparently has some sort of toxin in its bite." Karbunkle said, "Greasepit is unable to walk, numb, and quite speechless. (they devour) His remarks are muddled and quite unintelligible. He has been injured slightly, my doctors are patching him up, as we speak.."

"His speech is CONTINUALLY unintelligible!" Limburger shouted. "I want to know what happened down there! Find someone who can give me an account of it, NOW!"

"Perhaps, Dr. Anderson," Karbunkle said. "Or the prototype Plutark sent me? Both of them were involved in that little fracas in the hallway."

Limburger considered this. He could hear the muffled sound of idling engines and heavy metal music across the intercom. They were near Karbunkle, (justice is gone ) but apparently hadn’t located him yet. There was no sound of weapons fire. (justice is done) A good sign. Karbunkle was good to his word. The third floor was evidently deserted except for those irritating gerbils.

"Doctor Karbunkle," he asked calmly, "Your other project, was it disturbed in any manner?"

"No, Your Cultured Creaminess ." Karbunkle said.

"Quite safe. There was no sign of intrusion." He added, " I plan to analyze the toxin affecting Greasepit later, and attempt to define an antidote for it"

"Excellent, my dear doctor!" Limburger brightened a bit.

"Be in my private quarters in an hour with a report, providing the building is still here." He added,

"And your report on the toxin. That could become useful."

(seeking no truth)

"Right away, Your Cheddar Chee….."

Limburger slapped the intercom button off. That was appalling music! He stepped carefully over the smoldering remains of his office, stood on his elevator pad and activated it. His underwear was sticking to his bottom in a most undesirable way. Ohh, to be in my nice, hot bath! The elevator pad began to descend slowly into the floor.

The shock of it, seeing the lighting dance over that huge shape, directly in front of his face had caused a childhood problem to re-occur. It hardly ever happened anymore. His sister, Latoya, still called him "Drippy Drawers" to this day. Luckily, no one had noticed his, ah, little accident. And, he had a good idea where that ship had come from. The visitor on the third floor had come for Karbunkle’s new project, without a doubt. I must speak to the doctor regarding the security on that floor and his defective building sensors. That was a Dau ship, he was sure of it.

The dark, burst open wall where his windows once were passed from his view. Another nice clean office ruined. Oh well, I do have 4 more just like it, he thought.

It pays to plan ahead for such things. The rain pouring in had blended his little mishap in with that lard laden lunkhead’s oily drippings. An eventful day, indeed. But I will have the last laugh, after all. The project is safe. Grinning, he disappeared into the floor, to his apartments below.