I don't own the Biker Mice from Mars and get no profit from this. It was written for pure enjoyment. Any comments please post on the message board.

Three rooms. Three mice. Each sitting, waiting. They dreaded what was to come. The war was over. They have led the raid on Plutark and destroyed it. No more planets will be sucked dry, their physical wounds are healing, slowly. The other wounds, mental and those to their souls; they weren't sure if they would heal. All those horrors they have seen

All three doors opened, they sighed. Of all the missions and raids this task was the hardest. They met outside, each with an escort. They were on their way. They didn't use the bikes, they were going in a jet fighter.

In a clearing in front of a group of mountains Martians stood waiting. They had cleared the path that would lead to the mountains. All were facing something like a stage. The silence was unbearable but none dared to break it.

The jet fighter arrived. All three agreed that they didn't want to do this but they had to. They kept silent throughout the journey and as they mounted the stage they stayed like that. A few people came up to the stage and said a few words. None of the three were hearing though. Everybody could see a darkness in their eyes, a hollowness as they stared at the rows of metal boxes. Each with two flags. One black; the other;one of three. Some had Freedom Fighter emblems others had Army emblems and the third flag was a picture of Mars on them. They were what bothered people the most. They were the civilians. Some of their boxes were tiny, those hurt the most.

People could tell who was on the raids from their eyes. Everybody however agreed that most would get on with their lives but nobody was sure if the trio would. They almost died just trying to keep the death count at a minimum. An impossible task.

The people at the stage and the ground raised their heads as each box was carried by its own towards the mountains. Three figures had their heads raised the highest. They wanted to be down there with the people both dead and alive carry them on their own shoulders but they couldn't.

Children looked at the three living legends who freed Mars. Heroes. They looked huge up there. All three wore black pants and vests with the picture of Mars on the back. They each wore a pin with the Army emblem. They had black bandanas tied around their heads. All freedom fighters did. The Army wore black arm bands. The people just wore black, anything black.

Children, teenagers, adults all were taken with the strength the three radiated. Even through injury. The children were awed by the sight of someone injured being so strong. They saw a figure on a wheel chair recovering from a back injury, another on crutches while a third had an arm in a sling and a leg in some kind of brace. They saw strength and pride but what they didn't see was the anguish.

Each was reliving the raids. The battles went on for days. They lead three groups. They attacked at three different points. The threesome was separated, each leading a force made up from the army FF and the people. At the final battle, however, they joined the people of Mars to free their planet at last. They were three, they were one again.

They stood there waiting until the final box was carried to the mountains to be buried. Medical personnel were there in case of an emergency. They didn't want the trio out of the medical ward yet, but they didn't dare tell them they couldn't come just as they didn't dare ask them to leave now.

A single glowing eye can be seen as a gray mouse stared at the boxes that used to be the people they knew. Anger can be seen in a pair of pink eyes as a white mouse clutched his crutches almost breaking them. The third's eyes were hidden behind green specks but rage could be felt radiating from his body. They won all right but in return they lost a lot more.

Close friends could also see guilt. They knew they felt responsible. The mission was their idea and they led it. They tried to tell the three it wasn't their fault but they wouldn't listen to them. In fact they haven't spoken or listened to anyone since they arrived.

When the last box was carried the clearing slowly emptied as mice went on with their lives. They weren't going to let all the loss be a waste. It was time to rebuild Mars.

When the clearing was emptied the three bros were left alone for a while. They looked at the mountains. One of them spoke, "Never, bros, will we ever let something like this happen."

"We'll stop it before it begins."
"We owe it to them."
"We owe it to Mars."
"Never while the Biker Mice from Mars live."

They all slapped a high five and saluted the mountains.

From the jet fighter four figures were watching. When they saw the high five, "They're baaaack." "Our guys are back." "Let's keep it that way." The fourth nodded and smiled as the three mice said,

"We're gonna keep on ROCKIN"
"N RIDEIN."
"For Mars sweethearts."