Visions of Mars

By: Kara

January 9, 1998 (revised)

copyright 1998 all right reserved

This story is for the enjoyment of other BMFM fans. I will make no profit from this story. I owe all other BMFM writer's for their great ideas.

Part I

Sounds of blasters, falling rocks, and screams made Throttle's head swim. Tears stung his eyes as he dragged his beaten body across Mars'terrain. The battle's victory was slowly creeping toward the other side. Already,he had lost sight of Vinnie and Modo. His bike had been destroyed,and his bloody knee was of no use to him. He was completely helpless. He looked up and gazed in total shock as burning buildings tumbled to the ground. Each way he turned,there was death and destruction. The guilt and anger only helped to fuel the flow of tears.
"Look out!" someone screamed.
Throttle turned to see Vinnie push a young woman away from a falling slab of rock.
But the rocks crushed any final sight of his friend. Throttle buried his head in his arms,sobbing. Very slowly,the battle died down. Throttle forced himself to rise and limp over to a pile of rubble for shelter.
Once there, Throttle breathed deeply and relaxed. But not for long. As he began to see to his leg, a sound filled the air, like that of a fly buzzing. It started as a gentle hum,like a breeze, but then it grew stronger and stronger. Soon, it had turned into a howling. Throttle looked quickly to see a huge portal,burning a eerie green. It slowly began to pull things up from the Mars surface. All life was being pulled within its gaping mouth. Throttle watched in horror, until he felt something run into him. He turned quickly to see a familiar face.
"Carbine!" he cried.
She was a mess. Her clothes were torn and her face was dirty from dirt and blood, running from a deep gash in her head. She looked up at him and he could see the tears in her eyes. She began to slip away.
"Carbine, take my hand, please!" he begged.
She gazed into his eyes and kissed him gently. Throttle shut his eyes against the flow of tears. Suddenly,he felt her rip away from his arms.
He reached desperately for her hand, but it disappeared in to the portal, locking her inside. The portal then closed, as if the monster was now full. Throttle fell to the dusty surface,his body shaking from his sobs.
"Why don't you take me too!" he heard himself cry out.
He was so upset that he barely heard a young, sweet voice,speaking coldly.
"How does it feel to be alone, Throttle?"
She was a very pretty thing. And very young. No more than seventeen.
Her hair was a fiery red and her eyes were cold,like ice. She wore a gray jump suit and a whip hung a her side.
"Who are you?" Throttle asked, trying to control in anger. She smiled at him. It was a smile filled with vengeance.
"What do you want?" asked Throttle, harshly. She raised her blaster to his head and said, coldly,
"Revenge!" She pulled the trigger and everything went black...

* * * * *

Throttle let out a cry and sat straight up in bed, panting and sweating from fear. He was in his own room, on Earth, miles from Mars. He looked around to his clock. It was 3:00 am. It was that same dream again. This was the fifth time this month. Throttle climbed out of bed and walked over to the mirror, his legs shaking. He put his field specs and jumped back at the face in the mirror. He was twenty-nine years old, but the face reflected back was at least forty. He looked more like his dad than he really wanted to. His hair was matted and uncombed. Even with the specs to cover his eyes, there was no mistaking the bags hanging below them. His chest was sweaty and it hurt to breath. There wasn't a muscle in his body that wasn't pulled or sore from the numerous battles. He needed to relax, he needed a break. He needed to rock and ride. But he needed to get out of the house first. Throttle dressed quickly and tiptoed out of his room.
Maybe I should check everyone's room. he thought.
He peered into Charley's room. She seemed to be sleeping soundly enough.
Throttle smiled and moved on. Vinnie's room was not as quiet. Throttle winced as the sound of snores and mumbling of hot dogs and root beer seemed to emanate from the bed. Throttle shook his head. At least he's having pleasant dreams, he thought.
Modo was another matter. As Throttle peered in, He could hear Modo snoring, but not quite as loud as Vinnie was.
How can he sleep through this, he thought.
Throttle crept down the stairs and out to the garage. He unlocked his bike and quietly raised the garage door. He didn't ride away though. His friends could sleep through nightmares and snoring, but a motorcycle would surely wake them up. The last thing he needed right now were questions about midnight rides. He rolled the bike down the street until he was far enough away to start the motor. He put on his helmet and rode down the street. Throttle glanced back only once.
Later bro's. he thought.

* * * * *

Modo opened his eyes and breathed deeply. He'd slept great and decided to make breakfast for a change. He dressed and hurried downstairs.
It's been a while since I've made anything except Plutarkian pancakes out of Limburger's goons, he thought, but here it goes.
Modo decided to make something relatively easy; flapjacks. As it turned out, Modo hadn't forgotten much, except where the spatchela was.
He went out to the garage and saw the missing bike. He frowned grimly, but went back to the kitchen. Soon, the scent of butter and maple syrup floated upstairs to waiting noses of Vinnie and Charley. Both hurried toward the stairs, but Vinnie reached them first. Charley started to follow, but paused at Throttle's door. It seemed fairly quiet in there, but Throttle was always the soundest sleeper. "Throttle," she called through the door, "Modo's got breakfast ready. Better hurry before Vinnie gets to them all."
She then decided to take her own advice and hurried downstairs. But instead of cheerful, enthusiastic faces, she met with concerned frowns.
"What's wrong?" she asked, urgently.Modo sat her down on a chair.
"Throttle's gone, darlin'," he stated, "he must have left early this morning."
Charley stared up the stairs at Throttle's door. No wonder it had seemed so quiet.
"Did he leave a note or anything?" she asked. Vinnie shook his head.
"He's not usually like this, not that I don't blame him. He does deserve some quiet time. But to not leave a note, that's not normal." Modo turned back toward the stove.
"I just hope he isn't in any trouble," he said, the worry in his voice leaving an edge to it.
The three sat down to a extremely quiet breakfast. No one said a word about Throttle's disappearance, until the familiar hum of a motorcycle pulled up. Then, all three stood up, rather quickly and hurried toward the door. Charley could practically taste the friction in the air.
Throttle's sure going to have some explaining to do. she thought.

* * * * *

At the same time, on the distant planet of Plutark. A shadowy figure held a conversation with a familiar face.
"I don't care if you are close to brining the mice down, Limburger, I want it done now!"
Limburger was sweating so hard that he felt the mask he wore sliding around his face.
" Lord Dumosk, I assure you that the Biker Mice will be brought down soon."
"It's to late, Limburger," the figure of Dumosk interrupted, "I have decided to give you some help since you seem incapable of taking care of things yourself" My fleetship will be arriving within a week, commanded by Captain Anteros."
Limburger lowered his head to hide the fierce frown.
"As you wish, my lord," he spoke grimly.
Lord Dumosk turned to end the transmission, but not before Limburger made a horrid face at the turned back of his superior. Then, all went dark. Lord Dumosk, second-in-command to Lord Stilton, turned to face the window. He looked out across a vast wast of dust and sparse vegetation.
He frowned and bowed his head. Suddenly, the voice of a guard outside his door.
"You can't go in there!"
The following sound was a blaster and a body smacking the floor. Dumosk turned quickly to face a young, slim figure, hiding in the shadows.
"Who are you?" Dumosk asked, in a voice that was filled with interest and cowardly fear.
"My name is Astarta. I want passage to Mars with the cruiseship you are sending out today."
Dumosk was confused. Why would such a young creature want to be shipped out to a battle.
"Do you have some reason for wanting to accompany my ship?" he asked, suspiciously.
"I want to kill all the mice on that planet." she said, coldly.
Astarta stepped into the light. She was a gorgeous Plutarkian, with red hair, as fiery as Mars surface."For a price, of course."
Dumosk stared at her eyeing her up and down.
"You are a bounty hunter then?" he asked.
Astarta stepped forward until she was nose to nose with the great lord.
He could feel her breath on his face.
"Do you have a price for you captures?" he asked, his eyes making contact with hers. They were so blue.
"Five hundred credits." she whispered
Dumosk was taken by surprise. How dare she ask for so much! He began to object, when he felt her lips press against his.
"Do you have any objections?" she said, pulling her lips away.
Dumosk's voice came out in a squeak.
"No, five hundred will be fine."
He retreated to his desk and found his voice in time to make a transmission with his ship.
"Captain Anteros," he said, "prepare a room on my ship for a passenger.
She will be down to the docking bay soon."
Captain Anteros' voice came back
"Yes, sir. May I ask who will be joining us?"
"Astarta, a bounty hunter."
Anteros was silent a moment, and then answered.
"Yes, sir," his voice was more than a little whisper.
Dumosk turned back to where Astarta stood.
"Now, my dear, where were we...." he stopped because Astarta was no longer there.
Where did she go to? he thought.
Astarta was walking down the hall, wiping her lips and spitting against the empty corridor walls.
What I won't do for five hundred credits, she thought.

* * * * *

At that same time, on a distant planet, farther from any known galaxy, three women stood around a fire. They were beautiful creatures, with wings of soft down and infantile features. They held hands and circled around the fire, chanting and humming quietly. Then, they stopped, and the eldest member of the three, spoke.
"Great Teacher, the Balance has been tipped and now our hero has been chosen. Open the Gate to the Angel Sisters so he may come to us."
The fire began to blaze and flicker. It rose up and began to circle together, forming a window. A normal, forest path appeared in the fire, with a straight direction toward a light. The eldest women raised her hand and the path began to wiggle like a snake. From its original course, it diverted to another light: their planet.
"Now, we wait?" asked a younger member of the sisters.
The fire window closed and became a gentle crackling again.
"Yes," answered the leader, "now we wait."
The two younger women looked at each other in common thought.
"Hope," said the woman,"we have been deceived before. Perhaps this is not the champion."
Hope looked at her sisters, with gentle patientence.
"Our Teacher has made the choice himself. Remember, hes chose the first champion long ago, when the Balance tipped that time. He knows who is wrong and who is right."
The two sisters looked again into the fire and nodded.
"Now, we must wait for him to come and restore our Balance," said Hope.
The sisters sat down and began to wait.


To Be Continued in Part II