DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own any intellectual property taken from "Biker Mice from Mars" the television series. This story is NOT for profit. The story belongs to the author, but it may be referenced for more NON profit usage.
Dark Times - Saga
The Biker Mice's lives are threatened when Plutark tests it's latest weapon, ready to defeat Mars once and for all.
PART 1 : Prologue: Project Venom
And so the story begins...
Darkness.
A cold, draft drifted through the sombre dungeon, weaving through the many bars of empty cells, wickedly chilling the lone, weak and shivering occupant to the bone. She sat starring into open space, her tired eyes seeing nothing. A fit of weak coughing brought her out of her self-pitying daze, her gaunt body convulsing in rhythm to her hacking. She gasped for breath, suppressing her coughs and panting weakly, she dropped her head into her hands and moaned. Her sorrowful lament echoed softly in the empty, cold room. The edges of that icy, rectangular stone bed dug into her thin, furry, brown legs, painfully jabbing a few protruding bones. She was a curled figure, hopelessly lost and dying, shoulders shaking painfully as she sobbed weakly.
Sudden silence reigned the dungeon. She straightened her back, her ruby eyes still wet with tears, yet now calm with resolve. She stood up briskly, immediately regretting her swift actions when patches of her world began to black out. She took a moment to let the black blotches clear from her vision, then started taking small, unsteady steps toward the middle of the room. She lowered herself to her knees, and stared at it; the coiled rope resting on the cement floor. She no longer cared why the rope lay there, she had let all her anger go. She had given up. Nothing mattered anymore. She picked up the rope, and proceeded to slowly tie a complicated martian knot. No more, she thought bitterly, no more pain, no more sorrow, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more... anything... she smiled eerily. No more life, no more painful breaths, no more dark void consuming my soul, no more anything! For the first time in months, she felt a little happy. These thoughts were the only thing that brought joy to her life. Her smile grew, adding to the already strange and horrible vibes growing within the room.
She stood up, her task complete, and dragged the only other piece of furniture in her cell, a wooden stool, to one of her cell's caged walls. She stood tall on the stool, reaching up for a horizontal bar, and looped the rope around it a few times. After tying one end of rope securely around the bar, she slipped the loop at the other end around her neck, flipping her dirty mane of tangled, thick brown hair out of the way.
"No more," she uttered softly. She took a deep breath, then kicked the stool away from under her feet . . .
Miles above the cold, underground dungeon, in a large comfortable office, sat a mad scientist staring at his computer terminal's monitor. To his sadistic delight, he watched test subject #30-A of the Venom Project hanging in her prison cell, twitching and convulsing as she ended her life. His fingers rapidly typed a few commands on his touch-pad keyboard, and the camera zoomed into the Martian face. Her ears were flailing and her antennas were shaking horribly, but her face displayed no signs of fear or regret. She had the faint ghost of a smile, it was stretched with pain, but it was unmistakably a smile. Finally, her eyes glazed over and her body hung limp, the corners of her mouth still raised slightly.
The scrawny scientist stood up, walked over to a cupboard, and removed a beautifully crafted bottle, garnished with a complex gold trim of spiraling lines. Inside the clear, glass bottle lay a glowing red liquid. He held the bottle up, giving it an appraising look, then removed it's golden cork with an impressive looking high-tech bottle opener (his own creation of course). He poured a generous amount of this sweet smelling liquor into a beautiful, red crystal glass, then raised his drink high above his overly big, bulging head.
"I'd like to make a toast to myself," He chuckled, "To success! And yours truly!" He took a gulp of the glowing liquid, his tense body relaxing immediately.
He stepped back to his computer terminal and quickly typed with one hand until his screen suddenly displayed the interior of a luxurious office. A large, fat, green scaly head stepped into view and spoke, "Ah, Dr. Grunt," The humanoid fish voiced warmly with a greedy look of anticipation, "I take it by the look on your face that you bring me good news!" His scaly eyebrow raised and his smile grew as his face urged the scientist to speak.
"Yes, Lord Camembert the lab testing phase of Project Venom is complete. Phase One has been a complete success," the scientist said proudly.
"Excellent! Let us proceed to Phase Two... after a well warranted celebration, of course..." The plutarkian lord said while glancing at the scientist's glass.
"Yes my lordship, enjoy the rest of your evening," Dr. Grunt replied.
Lord Camembert nodded his head, then ended the transmission.
Dr. Grunt gulped down more of his drink, then fired up another video transmission.
"Brother? Hello?? Karbunkle?!?" Dr Grunt said impatiently. A large, white laboratory filled with many scary robotic arms and various machines of all sizes popped into view on the monitor, along with another scientist who could almost have been Dr. Grunt's twin.They had the same beady little eyes, same bulky head, and same pointy nose and chin.
"Grunt! How are things on Plutark, brother? I haven't heard from you recently, " Dr. Karbunkle rambled on to his older brother, genuinely happy to see his face.
"Everything is fine, Karbunkle. And I apologize for the lack of correspondence recently, I have been pre-occupied with Project Venom..." Grunt replied sheepishly.
"Ah yes, and how is our beloved project?" Karbunkle asked with interest.
"Actually, it is the reason why I am calling. Thanks to both of our efforts, Phase One has been successfully completed... hehehehe," he giggled as the effects of his drink raised his endorphin levels, creating a feeling of pure ecstasy.
"....Brother, there's something different about you..... IS THAT TOP QUALITY AELAGORIAN RED CHAMPAGNE?!?" Karbunkle gasped excitedly.
"Yes," Grunt responded, "That pleasure planet sure knows how to *hick* make a drrrrink!" He grinned foolishly and leaned closer to the monitor, "Care to join me?" he was already acquiring a hint of a slur.
Karbunkle smiled from ear to ear, then he and his laboratory crackled off of Dr. Grunt's monitor. Within seconds he heard a whirring sound from his transporter, and with a bright flash Dr. Karbunkle suddenly appeared in his room. Grunt handed him a newly poured drink, then refilled his own glass. They sipped eagerly, admiring their glasses appreciatively.
"So... how's our creation at work?" Karbunkle asked, referring to Project Venom.
"Brother, it's even better than we had hoped!" Grunt cried happily. picked up a box from his desk and handed it to Karbunkle. "Here, a gift for you and your employer."
Dr. Karbunkle eagerly yet carefully opened the hinged box. The insides consisted mostly of cushions designed to protect the delicate treasure inside. There it lay in the center, an incredibly small vile of gray liquid "This is...."
"Project Venom," Dr. Grunt slurred, feeling tipsy at this point. "The project is ready for field trial. You hold enough for one Martian, it is the most we can spare for planet earth. Most of the field trial is taking place on Mars, for obvious reasons. Since you played a part with Project Venom's original creation, I convinced Lord Camembert that you deserved it..."
"Oh, this is wonderful, Grunt, it will be put to good use!"
Grunt smiled, put an arm around his brother and said confidently, "I thought you could use it. I am tired of hearing you complain about that never ending rodent infestation back on Earth. Besides, I believe Limburger will be most pleased..."
Karbunkle smiled wickedly, "He will be most pleased," he gazed proudly at the vile, "Very pleased, and very rewarding."
"KARBUNKLE!!!!" The mad doctor cringed at the Plutarkian's booming voice as he stumbled from the transporter and into his laboratory. He was so drunk, he didn't see where he was heading and landed into the hands of a very surprised Lawrence Limburger.
"Limmmmburrrger!" He slurred affectionately, as he hung onto his boss, "My good friend! I'vvve allllways... wanted to *hick* to telllll yyyyou...."
A disgusted Limburger shoved the drunk scientist away, brushing off imaginary filth from his purple suit, and removing his human mask as if it was contaminated. "Bad Karbunkle! Pull yourself together, man, I demand you tell me where you have been during office hours!"
"I have a vile of Project Venom," Karbunkle sputtered quickly, just barely making any sense. This had the desired effects on Limburger, he instantly lost all anger, suddenly very pleased with this deranged scientist.
"Project Venom?" the Plutarkian whispered in awe, not daring to refer to it by anything other than it's code name. Too much depended on it's secrecy, the project itself could ensure victory for the Plutarkians over Mars. And from Mars they could easily launch a full fledged invasion of the planet Earth. Two planets for the price of one! The Plutarkians would be rewarded by a golden era, where their economy and people would grow and prosper.
"My good man, do you speak the truth? At last! I have a weapon of such power, it is stronger than those meddlesome mice, and I shall be able to rid myself of their three hideous hides once and for all!"
".... er, Limburger sir?"
"Yes, Karbunkle? Is this about a bonus, of course I shall immediately transfer a generous amount into your account...."
"Thank you sir," Karbunkle sobered up enough to break the news to Limburger, "I just wanted to mention, before your... genius comes up with a plan.... there is only enough in that vile for one mouse."
Limburger blinked a few times, refusing to let his bubble burst, "Well, then... we'll just have to pick our mouse carefully then, won't we Karbunkle?"
"Of course, sir," a bored Karbunkle mumbled distractedly as he calculated complicated mathematical equations inside his head, waiting for his intellectually inferior boss to think things through.
"So," Limburger continued, "Who will be the one to bite the dust?" He stepped into an elevator, closely followed by the short, odd scientist. They were swiftly carried to a large office, lit up brightly by the sun beaming through large windows. Limburger went straight to the wall that was dedicated to his plutarkian computer terminal. In the center hung a giant computer monitor. He selected three files labeled "Vinnie," "Modo," and "Throttle," displaying them on his huge screen.
"Let's see, there's that hyper-active, white punk who's bound to kill himself performing one of his death defying stunts, that idiotic maniac..." Limburger growled as he opened Vinnie's file, displaying an overly confident, not too tall, handsome white mouse. A dashing metal mask framed his right eye, although it wasn't there for aesthetic reasons. "Let's just assume, for now that he is going to get himself killed one of these days, sort of take himself out of the picture for us..."
Limburger closed Vincent's file, and opened Modo's. "What about that dumb, gigantic one-eyed thug?" he spoke bitterly, staring at a picture of an enormous, gray mouse who's only good eye glowed red with anger, his bionic arm's cannon poised and ready to shoot. "He is dangerous, with that bionic cannon of an arm... seriously, Karbunkle, what were you thinking, fusing a powerful prisoner with a weapon of great destruction....!"
Dr. Karbunkle cringed, feeling as though now would be a good time to interrupt Limburger, and tactfully point out the blank-fully obvious, "Sir, I believe we have been in similar situations before. Remember when we tried to split up the Biker Mice with a hostility ray? Or when we injured the ... er, how did you put it... 'dumb, gigantic one-eyed thug'? We were on the right path, the biker mice are a three legged stool, if we take out one leg, and the entire group will tumble..."
"Yes, yes, Dr. Karbunkle," Limburger impatiently interrupted, "but if you recall, both those efforts failed horribly, just like every other effort made by you pathetic minions!"
Dr Karbunkle nodded as if agreeing that he and his co-workers were incompetent idiots, in order to please his boss, "We have failed because we have underestimated one particular mouse... we have never tried getting rid of him first, the two other biker mice would surely fall if he wasn't around...."
"Who are you talking about? Modo's bionic arm?" Lawrence Limburger's puzzled face looked deep in thought as he kept interrupting the annoyed scientist.
Patience, Karbunkle, The scientist thought to himself, then said, "Think," without hurting yourself, he bitterly added, "Who will most likely be the one to spoil our plans?"
Limburger gazed pensively out the window for a moment, then it finally occurred to him. He smiled evilly, opening the third file on his computer, he stared dangerously at his target. In a chilling, low tone he spit out the mouse's name, "...Throttle!!"
To Be Continued...
Thanks for reading, please review! even if you only have a few words to say!
I may be a little rusty, but I'm creative as ever and full of ideas. Part 2 is coming very soon...
PS: I changed the HTML a little, hoping it improves legibility. Let me know if anyone has trouble reading the fonts.