Author's Note: I do not own the Biker Mice from Mars so please don't sue me I'm po. I write this for the pure enjoyment of writing and entertaining others. The Character Charles Chester Chedda does however belong to me. So please ask me before using him. Any other characters that may appear are just purely coincidental. This is my first Biker Mice story so please forgive me.

Of Martian Blood

[Part One]

By: Ro-Chan

May 15, 2000

All Rights Reserved.

Desert sand blew across the barren red planet lifeless and empty as the wind made her way through it's harsh surface. Suddenly she stopped and stooped over the edge of a high cliff looking down far below her to more wasteland. So empty so sick I hear you my mother I feel your pain The wind brushed her fingertips over her mother's face. I will send someone to help you one of your children The land moaned as the wind spoke to her. Yes that is what I'll do I'll bring one of them to heal you The wind picked herself up and walked across the dessert sands again. Be strong my mother be strong

Throttle looked out across the red sands and sighed heavily. He didn't remember when there were trees on the red planet; the war had started way before he was born. His red eyes strained across the landscape as the wind blew his hair in his face. He pushed the wild bangs back with his hand and realized he wasn't wearing his field specks.
"What? Where are my specks?" He held his hand in front of his face. He could see it clearly. Too clearly. "I must be dreaming"
"Throttle" A soft soothing voice floated from behind him.
Throttle turned towards the mountains above him.
Throttle saw a figure standing on the top most part of the range. It was blurry and dark, he squinted his eyes to focus better. "Who are you?" He said softly. What am I doing back on Mars? If this really is Mars
The figure giggled. "You're so silly Throttle How could you forget me? Forget us?"
There was a bright flash of light and Throttle covered his eyes. When the light faded he looked back up to he mountain range and found them gone. In its place was Brimstone his hometown. People mingled in the streets and spoke in voiceless tones, black figures of past memories. Throttle tried to focus on some of the people to make out their faces, but he kept drawing blanks.
"Brimstone Why have you brought me here?" He raised his voice a little louder. "Just who are you?" Bros where are you? Where am I? Am I dreaming?
"Throttle Try to remember"
The figure stood in front of him inches away from him, yet it remained a black shadow.
"Am I dreaming?"
"Yes you are dreaming" The voice was feminine and faded in and out as it stressed and unstressed.
Throttle tried to focus on her. The outline was mysterious and yet vaguely familiar. He thought back to his days in Brimstone before it was destroyed. He remembered his bros, his mother, when he got his bike and named it

His eyes snapped open and he fell out of bed in a tangle of sheets as the radio blasted him awake. Throttle immediately untangled his head and glared at the white haired mouse that was laughing on the floor at his bro's embarrassment. Still in the web of sheets Throttle tried to find an escape so that he could `help' his bro get off the floor and probably teach him to fly as well
"Hey Throttle!" A deep baritone voice called from behind him.
Throttle looked up unexpectedly his mouth forming the words to say `What?' But that never came out of him for as soon as he looked up a bright flash, a click, and a whir stole his voice from him. His eyes dilated and he fumbled to get up. The gray furred mouse laughed and his eye lit up brightly as he held the Polaroid of his `troubled' brother. Vinnie had gotten into another fit of laughter as he watched Throttle get disoriented.
Throttle finally managed to get himself together long enough to get out of the sheet net and put on his specks. Behind the green mirror shades held the eyes of one wanting revenge and skillfully calculating the plan to extract that revenge. Carefully and ever so slightly he grabbed his weapon and slugged the big fella with it.
Modo felt the `bop' of the pillow and stopped laughing. He stared down at his shorter bro. "Ah think this means war." Modo flew for his pillow before Throttle could hit him again but Throttle beat him to it. Armed with both pillows he swung mercilessly at the giant mouse.
Vinnie not being the one to be ignored jumped into the fray with his own weapon of choice and slugged Throttle with it knocking him back to his bed. Modo took that distraction to grab his pillow and hit Throttle with it. He then turned to Vinnie who was gloating at the way Throttle fell and smiled.
Vinnie didn't know what hit him except that he was on the other side of his bed and that he had been standing. "Bro you just made a mistake." Vinnie howled as he lunged at Modo and they both crashed right into Throttle. The bed creaked ad moaned with all the weight but held steady.
Modo roughly shoved Vinnie off of him and landed in a loud `thump' with the pillow. Throttle in turn hurled the larger mouse over his head and into his own bed. Modo wasn't even given a few seconds before Throttle jumped over to the bed and began once again hitting him repeatedly with the pillow.
Vinnie not being the one to be out done stood on his own bed. "Watch out bros! Here I come!"
Modo and Throttle looked up in time to see Vinnie do a double flip in the air.
"VINNIE NO!" They both shouted, but alas it was to late. The white furred mouse landed on the bed and it gave way underneath the three of them. They landed in a heap of arms, legs, pillows, and tails amidst the shattered bed.
Throttle pushed himself up and shoved Vinnie off of him. "Vincent, you really did it this time."
Vinnie moaned as he sat up. "How was I supposed to know it would give like that?!"
Modo hadn't gotten up yet and lay uncomfortably still.
Throttle peered over to him and shook his shoulder slightly. "Hey Big Fella? You okay?"
Vinnie now filled with concern placed his face a few inches from Modo's. "Bro?"
The yellow eye snapped open and Vinnie shrieked crawling away as fast as his little hands took him. Modo smiled and began to shake. Throttle tried to hold it in but the laughter refused to be left silent. Vinnie's heart raced and thudding in his chest as he looked at his shaking bros.
"That was not funny!" Modo and Throttle burst out laughing uncontrollably. Vinnie stood up crossing his arms and glared down at them, his lips contorting into an angry frown. When Throttle saw this he stared laughing even more. Modo had tears starting to come down the sides of his cheeks and had clutched his sides afraid that they'd burst.
"Stop it! It's not funny!" Vinnie growled and muttered under his breath as he watch his two bros laugh their butts off. Looking up he asked the ceiling, "Why does this always happen every morning?"

[At the Freedom Fighter Base]

Stoker looked up from the stack of papers he was working on when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in." Came his clear, strong voice.
A young mouse, most likely a new recruit, fumbled with the door and walked in. In his hands he held another large stack of papers.
Stoker held his hands between his head and groaned. "Why me?"
"Um Sir? These are from Carbine."
Stoker made a sour face at the mention, thankfully the papers covered the youth's face and he couldn't see it. Stoker sighed and shook his head. "Just place them in this corner." The youth did as he was told and walked out. Stoker eyed him strangely. "Son?"
The young man turned around. He had white fur and pink eyes. Short golden brown hair framed his face. "Yes sir?"
"Nothing. Never mind." Shrugging the boy walked out of the office. Stoker sighed and leaned back in his chair propping his feet on his desk and closed his eyes. "They're getting younger and younger." Floating off into sleep.
The door to Stoker's office was suddenly thrown back as the youth came back in a rush. "Sir!"
Stoker blinked and stood up from his chair. "What is it Son?" He asked a bit irate.
"Carbine*pant pant* says that *pant pant* that" The boy tried to regain his breath.
"Now take a deep breath and try that again." Stoker smiled a little.
The boy did as he was told and caught his breath. "Sir! Carbine says that you need to come to the communications tower immediately! They are receiving signals from a satellite three light years away from our solar system!"
"What?!" Stoker rushed out of the room and say the communication tower a mess with mice running to and fro all talking at the same time. He glanced around trying to locate Carbine in the havoc.
"to Mars copy?.Sand ver." The voice boomed over everyone. There was static interference but it could be heard. Someone was trying to make contact with Mars!
Stoker found Carbine near the main Vid Com that the voice was projecting from and made his way over.
"Get this thing cleared up!" Carbine yelled at one of the soldiers next to her. The poor boy nodded hastily and rushed off to see if there was an unsuspecting sacrifice that could appease the Carbine God.
" to Ma.. Do youpy? een conov.."
"What is this?" Stoker leaned over to Carbine to be heard better. "What's going on?"
"What do you think is going on?" She said frustration deep in her voice. "Someone picked up this frequency and is trying to talk to us."
"Any idea who?"
Carbine shook her head her black hair flaying around. "We don't know anybody outside the Plutarkins and Terrains."
Stoker was in deep thought as he looked at the static filled screen covering all the Vid Coms in the room.
"..unto.. ars ou py? unaMaran..on..Ov.."
"What if they are allies to the Plutarkins?" Stoker finally said.
Carbine sighed. "I hope not. We need all the help we can get."

[Deep in the plains of Mars beyond Mons Olympus]

Stilton sat unnerved as the Plutarkin scientists raced around the room with sheets and charts each babbling one thing or another. "Why doesn't someone clear this up!" He raised his voice for the third time that day and frowned as the message was repeated over and over through the satellites.
"This is not good Stilton." Came the calm reply from another Vid Com beside the Plutarkin. "If it is them then we have to make sure they never make contact with those Mice."
"I know that already!" Stilton snapped. "I am doing the best that I can at the moment! You should have never let them make this in the first place!"
A soft chuckle arose from the darkened screen. "My dear Stilton, I had nothing to do with this one. It was you duty to eliminate those rodents on Mars so we could continue with the plans, but you failed to stop them and they created this."
Stilton growled his eyes burning with rage, but he bit his tongue. He didn't know who this new General was except that his name was Charles Chester Cheeda. High Chamberlain Camberet had told him that Chedda was a special Plutarkin who he was very fond of. This made Stilton sick to his stomach to think that the newbe was out butt kissing him was enough to drive him mad with envoy. And Chedda knew it. He knew that he was the envoy of them all and taunted them relentlessly.
"Better do something quick Stilton before Lord Camberet finds out." With that the screen went blank. Stilton then proceeded to use colorful names that will not be repeated.
"What?!" Stilton shouted at the solider who shrank.
"The link has been cleared sir."
"What?" Stilton looked down at the screen and sure enough the screen was clear and so where the words being spoken. Stilton paled.
"Lunar to Mars. Do you Copy? I am Queen Sandora of Lunar, a Martian Colony. Please come in. Over."

----to be continues----