I do not own the Biker Mice from Mars they belong to their creators. I write this for my own entertainment and hopefully for that of others and I will make no profit.
This is the closest I will ever come to creating a BM alter ego. If anyone wishes to use her, not that I think anyone will, Please ask permission first.

The Record

By Morning

This morning found her sitting on a bluff overlooking the Martian landscape.
Her heartache to see what the war had done to the beauty that was once abundant in her world. But even though the Plutarkians had tried to destroy it, Mars still had a certain kind of beauty no one could take. You had to look a little harder maybe, but it was there.

On many such mornings she was there to capture it in her own way. The beauty in her people trying to survive in the faces of the warriors that struggled giving all they had to defend their home. This was what she would capture quietly before any one could notice what she was doing. She took the time to make sure that it was all gathered and kept safe.
But for now that time was over she had to get back and tend to her part in the regaining of her home. She wondered if her observer was still there. She knew he had been watching her for some time. She smiled and was pleased to have the company.

Her appearance was striking in one way and very plain in others. Tall but average in stature the middle-aged mouse kept her curly dark hair very short but attractively styled and her fur was a soft caramel brown. Long thick lashes surrounded her hazel eyes and when she spoke one would almost to fall into those eyes being helped by the soft voice she spoke in little more than a whisper.

She was not a fighter nor was she one of the best in the area of mechanics but she had two good hands and willingly used them to do whatever menial tasked need to be done. Prepare food, clean, help in the infirmary it didn't matter she was there to be used any way she could. Sometime it was the smallest of things like sitting with a wounded freedom fighter using her lilting voice to comfort. Other times she'd simply listen while they talked, about lost family, their hopes of what they wanted for Mars what ever they need to talk about she was there to hold a hand. For many she would sit and hold until they slipped away finding their final peace.

Everyone came to depend on seeing her smile and bright spirit that could light up a room.

"Morning Sunshine how is the brightest star in the galaxy." Modo's day wasn't really started until he saw her and he gave her a big bear hug.

Even though he was such a giant of a mouse his kind manner and gentle spirit endeared him to her. His two companions where also among her favorite people, even though the one did have an ego bigger then any mouse she'd ever met. The other was more serious a thinker and for her own reasons she grew very fond of him. He never said much to her just a smile or nod of the head. But they shared something very special, even though he didn't realize it yet.

"I'm okay Modo. How is that wounded leg? Are you taking care of it?"

"Yeah it was no big deal. They patched me up and I'm as good as new."

"Oh is that right. Funny I could have sworn I heard the doctor say you had to stay off it for at least two days." She said with a sly smile.

Modo realized she wasn't about to let him get away with going against the doctor's orders.

"Okay Love back to the infirmary. You don't want to let it get an infection do you?"

She took him by the arm and walked with him back to his bed for that rest.
Modo didn't argue he knew it wasn't going to do him any good. She had a way of making the most stubborn, hard cord freedom fighter do what she wanted.

Her day continued as it normally did. If anything can be considered normal at that time.
Between the attacks by the Plutarkians and the Sandraiders doing their dirt normal was something she hadn't known for a long time.

After getting Modo settled she continued with her daily tasks. As her day ended she needed to get away from the base for a little while. She gathered the satchel she was often seen with and headed out to her other private assignment. To her, just as important as anything she did at the base.

As she was about to leave Stoker stopped her asking. "Hey Sweetie you going out alone.
You'd better be real careful the Sandraiders have been acting up a lot lately."

"I know Stok but this is something I have to do. I know how to take care of myself you know that. Don't worry so much it will give you gray hair and no I am not going to take a blaster with me. And no I don't want a bike you know I don't like riding those things." She pecked him on the cheek and was on her way.

Throttle walked up behind Stoker and asked, " Why do you let her go out like that she could get herself killed?"

"Look Rookie she's not part of the freedom fighters like we are. She comes and goes as she pleases."

"Where did she come from anyway?" Throttle had always wanted to ask.

"Well a few years ago we found her about a mile or two away from here. She didn't have any information on her tell who she was. We brought her back and got her healthy and she just stayed. First doing little things then we found her doing everything. Stuff that many would have complained about she did and was glad to help. We all start depending on her and now she is like part of the place."

"So why doesn't she have a name. I mean I have heard her call Sweetheart, Sunshine, stuff like that but no real name." The young mouse questioned.

"That's the way the lady wanted it. And who are we to question her?" Stoker said as he went off on his way rustling the top of Throttle's hair. "Don't sweat it Rookie."

Throttle stood watching then followed her as he'd done many times before.

She walked a little ways knowing that she was being followed but not overly concerned about it. Her instincts were very sharp and she knew her rather noisy pursuer wasn't a threat. Finding the spot she'd been seeking she sat closing her eyes and letting the air rush into her head as she took in a deep breath. Out of the satchel she removed a pencil and rather large sketchpad. She smiled to herself knowing she was being watched but continued on with her task.

Throttle spied from a short distance watching her as he had many times before. He could never quite see what she was doing. Writing something maybe he had to find out. So he moved as close as he could hoping she wouldn't notice him.

She began by remembering all that had happen to her, all that she had seen that day. The faces, the situations as much as she could. Then silently she began to put something down on the paper when she had finished another part of their history was recorded.

"Would you like to see?" Her voice surprising Throttle as he emerged from his hiding place and approached where she sat.

"How long did you know I was there?"

A slight grin appeared as she teased, "You may be a great fighter but you have to be the noisiest tracker I have ever heard. Pretty much since we left the base and every other time you've come to watch me"

Throttle laughed knowing that she was only too right. "What are you doing there?"

"Come sit next to me and I will show you but this has to be our secret, okay?"

Throttle nodded in agreement and sat down. She showed him her treasures and they were drawings! There were scenes of Mice in prison camps, families grieving, warriors' dead and dying. There were also pictures of Mars itself. He never thought of his home as a particularly beautiful places but through her vision he could see all the wonder that was his planet. The cool darkness of the starry nights, the fiery reds and oranges of the Martian desert she had put it all down. Then he saw faces of those he's known and things in those faces that revealed the soul. Stoker's wisdom and strength, the kindness in Modo's eyes, the pain in Vinnie's but what shocked him most was his own portrait.

"Do I look like that?" He pondered sadly.

"You do to me. I see someone much older than his years. Having the whole world on his shoulders."

Throttle looked at her then dropped his head. "You know sometimes I feel like that.
Like it's all up to me to end all of this. I knew it sounds crazy."

"No more crazy then the rest of us." She said as she touched his shoulder.

"You know my son would have been just about your age. He was serious like you." Her hand lovingly moved to hold his face in her palm.

"I didn't know you had a family?" Throttle had become very fond of this mysterious female in his quite way and wanted to know more about her but before this moment didn't dare ask about her past.

"Yes I did," she says as she slowly removes her hand. " My husband and three children. When the Plutakians destroyed our home we were all captured. My husband was killed in front of us; there was no reason I guess they were feeling extra murderous that day. My youngest son died about a month after we were at the camp he was never very strong. My daughter was taken to the lab and she never came back. My oldest son and I did escape one night but he was wounded in the attempt." Her voice was quiet and steady like she had to remember every detail of what happened.

"Funny how I can still feel him in my arms some times, see him smile so peaceful before he finally closed his eyes." Her arms forming an empty cradle. She continued, " Stoker and some others where out on patrol when they found us together out in the desert they buried my son there. Once they got me to the base and I got me back on my feet I had to find a way not to lose my mind, to deal with all the lose. I told Stoker I wanted to start doing this. He understood and helped me find what I need. It worked, so now I keep an on going record of as many things and people as I can. For the future so we never forget."

She looked up from her reminiscing to see Throttle watching her his eyes on the brink of tears. His voice heartbreakingly sad he tell her, "It's hard to remember my mom's face, it was only her and me my dad was killed in a mining accident when I was a baby way before the Plutarkians came. Then she was killed in the attack on Hailstrome city two years ago. I try and kept her face in my mind but she seems to be fading away soon she will be disappear and I will lose her forever."

As she looked at the handsome young mouse he no longer looked like the terror of the freedom fighters just a hurt child who had done took much, seen too much and need to be held.

"Close you eyes Throttle and tell me all you can remember about her." The older mouse's voice was commanding but soothing at the same time.

Throttle looked at her then closed his eyes and began to try and see his mother's face.
He pulled through his mind and tried with everything he had but it only the vaguest pieces of an image fought their way through.

"She'll almost gone," He said hurting more than he could bear. He began to stand and leave not wanting to think any more.

She held his shoulder and said to him, "Sit down and close your eyes."

"But I" He protested

"Sit down and close your eyes and reach into your heart and just tell me what you can remember." She insisted.

He sighed but did, as she wanted. Closing his eyes he began talking about his mother. The older mouse began singing an old Martian lullaby. One she had song for her own children, one that was as old as the Martian sands. Her soothing voice filled his head and heart. As it did he began to remember little things. His mother's warm smile, her dancing eyes. The Artist's hand moved silently as she began weaving the pieces of his memories into one image.

Before long he was quiet and his face was wet with tears. She moved closer to him gently putting her hand on his shoulder showed him what she had done. There was the face of his mother, her gentle eyes and smile. Throttle could only stare at the gift he was given and then put his arms around her in thanks beyond any words. She places her arms around him and let him enjoy the mother comfort he needed so desperately. This was not her son but one of many sons that had given all to try and save their world. She would be there for him, and all of them. Throttle almost desperate to feel that kind of comfort, he hadn't in so long, let himself relax into her embrace. She continued to sing the lullaby of ages and they sat for awhile as the darkness of the Martian night slowly crept in.

After a long silence he asked her," Why didn't you ever tell any one your name?

She smiled quietly and in that soft whisper of a voice she tells him. "The name I had died with the person I was and I haven't found one to go with the person I've become. What would you call me? "

After thinking a moment and not moving from her embrace he smiles as he tells her," Morning, because to me your like a bright new day."

"I think I like that. Yes, than Morning it is. They smile at each other grateful for the new bond that they now share and the renewed hope of family.

The End