Author Note: Hey guys! Happy new year! This is the second part of the Vagabonds series and by far the darkest. It contains situations which may upset some readers - please just back away from the story i this applies to you, rather than flaming me.
Also, this part and the next references the cartoon quite a lot so if something seems familiar, it probably is. However, things are going to be very different...
Disclaimer: I don't own the central characters or the premise. I don't even have a Stoker toy! There are characters within that belong to me - the rule to go by is; if you recognise the character it's not mine.
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Brimstone was under attack.
The Plutarkian forces had descended en masse on the already ravaged city, intent that this time, the entire city would fall and they would achieve victory, obtaining the land for Plutark.
There was a small problem with this plan however – the same problem they experienced every time they tried to gain ground in the ongoing war.
"AAOOWW!"
Stoker leapt over the rise, blasting at a Plutarkian vehicle and blowing it to pieces, signalling behind him.
"Freedom Fighters – ATTACK!"
The entire population of the Brimstone Freedom Fighter soldiers leapt over the rise Stoker had just leapt, firing at the invaders. One group swung to the right, another veered left. The third, led by Stoker himself, cut a swathe through the centre of the oncoming army.
Throttle's bike hit the ground first and he let go of the handlebars, trusting his bike to steer straight and steady as, a gun in either hand, he began shooting at the soldiers on foot, knocking their weapons away and taking them down and out.
Stoker took to the air again, landing his bike on the front of a Plutarkian all-terrain vehicle. Before the startled invaders could respond, Stoker send the pair flying and leapt his bike from the vehicle, allowing it to speed off driverless and crash in the distance.
"Aaooww!"
Bike going at full speed, Vinnie jumped the rise, mimicking Stoker by landing on another all-terrain vehicle. Unfortunately his inexperience proved to be his undoing. Unable to balance the bike on the vehicle, he fell to one side and rode shakily away, veering wildly.
"Keep practising punk," Stoker shouted after him, sounding like he might be laughing.
"Yeah, yeah." Vinnie didn't sound remotely amused.
To Vinnie's left, Carbine was advancing through the hordes, taking out several Sand Raiders, who had pledged their allegiance to the Plutarkians after seeing the way the war was going. Stoker pulled up beside her. "Wanna call the crash play Carbine?"
Carbine activated her helmet radio link. "Freedom Fighters – Tangle Spring Seven!"
"Outstanding call!" Stoker and Carbine exchanged high fives as they rode back into formation with the rest of the Freedom Fighters, releasing tangle springs from their bikes, which stopped anything with wheels or treads dead in its tracks. It left most of the Plutarkian vehicles either stuck firmly in place or crashed into each other trying to avoid the onslaught.
Something caught her eye and she turned her head to see Vinnie steam ahead of her, giving a grin and a wink as he pulled two grenades from his stash and pulled the pins with his teeth, tearing ahead of her and casually throwing each into tanks, both stuck on the springs but still able to use their weapons. The Plutarkians dived for cover as the machines exploded, Vinnie pulling ahead with flames chasing his tail, barely dodging a laser as he made it to comparative safety.
In spite of the situation, Carbine felt a flash of irritation, curbed by her concern. It was obvious to everyone that Stoker was trying to instil leadership tactics in her and although he was hardly jealous of that, he still wanted to look the hero in her eyes, to be the one to save the day and win the undying admiration of the girl – her. Hence the headlong and often foolhardy dashes into danger.
She forced Vinnie out of her mind, trusting him to stay in one piece and went back to returning fire on the enemy.
"What's the matter?" Vinnie weaved around laser blasts, taunting the Plutarkians. "Can't hit one li'l old studly mouse, huh?"
In answer, a bullet sheared across his thigh, burning a line through the skin there. Not a laser hit – it had to be a sniper, somewhere behind the rocks.
Veering 180 degrees, Vinnie rested a hand on the wound and determined it was shallow, barely a scratch really. Still, it was aggravating. "Time for that old Vinnie magic. Nothing up my sleeve!" He approached the two turrets, managing to swerve their lasers and leaping in the air as he went between them, hitting a button on his dash. His bike fired two missiles, which hit the tops of the towers dead on, taking out their weapons systems and raining bricks and mortar onto the ground below.
Racing back to the rest of the Freedom Fighters, it was clear that the battle was over, the Plutarkians hurriedly retreating, the mice celebrating. Vinnie parked his bike for a moment and retrieved a bandage – all the Freedom Fighters carried emergency medical supplies, never knowing when they would be needed.
"We've got those fish swimming upstream now bros!" Stoker shouted over the whoops.
Vinnie wrapped the bandage hurriedly around his leg as Carbine and Throttle came up behind him. "How's it hanging Vinnie?" asked Carbine, her tone mild enough but a slight frown on her face giving away her concern.
Vinnie didn't turn to see it. "Just a little battle tattoo, that's all…huh?"
The three turned as a missile landed nearby, blowing several rock formations into tiny stones.
"Bros," said Stoker grimly. "Let's at 'em!"
The Freedom Fighters mounted up on their bikes and gave chase to the army, determined to catch up to them. The action would lead to a definitive victory, making Brimstone their own again – a much-needed triumph after the recent loss of the Argyle Basin and the capture or killings of the Freedom Fighters located in the area. The loss was still fresh enough in all their minds to add speed to their wheels.
But it was not to be. As the last Plutarkians headed between two high, steep ridges of rock, an explosive device was triggered, presumably planted there for just such an emergency. The resulting blast brought the rocks tumbling down, cutting off the Freedom Fighters route after the invaders. Stoker and Vinnie, leading the pack, were forced to come to screeching halts, those behind them almost running into them.
"Dammit!" Stoker growled, a scowl on his face. They were boxed in with only one way out, the rocks too high or too unstable to ride up. "Back up, go around!"
The Freedom Fighters did so, going as fast as was possible in spite of the knowledge that the Plutarkians would be long gone. A few minutes later, when they were able to double back to where the explosion had occurred, they discovered they were right – there was no sign of where the invaders had gone.
"Probably all got back to Stilton's Castle," said Carbine irritably. "It's the closest Plutarkian stronghold to Brimstone."
"And the nearest thing to impenetrable." Stoker sighed and leant back in the saddle, looking discouraged, an expression he was wearing more and more often recently. "No point in hanging around here bros. Let's get back to HQ, patch up whoever needs it."
Vinnie scowled, wondering if Stoker was looking in his direction with that comment, but said nothing as the group made their way back to headquarters, a cave located under a pile of rubble that had once been a monastery to one of the more tolerant religious orders on Mars. The monks were long gone, the monastery one of the buildings levelled in the Plutarkians first stroke on Brimstone.
Stoker busied himself immediately by speaking first to Harley briefly, then to Mace. Both were non-combatants and had remained behind while the others went out to fight. Harley did a quick once-over on a few of the bikes, checking for damage while Mace and Stoker relayed the events of the day to Freedom Fighters outside Brimstone.
"Do we whip tail, or do we whip tail!" Vendel, one of the first Freedom Fighters, was obviously pleased with himself, punching the air with his fists and grinning widely.
"We whip tail!" confirmed Redstone, high-fiving his friend.
"This calls for a celebration!" Denel ran into the storage cupboard where they kept their supplies and pulled out several drinks, tossing them in the direction of the others. "Time to party!"
"I'd feel better if we'd stopped them before they escaped," commented Carbine dryly, catching a bottle.
"We all would," said Denel, snagging a bottle for herself. "But there's nothing we can do about it now and a victory is a victory. I'll take what we can get."
Carbine nodded. "Yeah. We did win one today."
Vendel clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Relax kid; you're too young to be worrying about the future all the time."
"Someone has to," she replied, glancing over at Vinnie, who was messing with the radio, trying to pick up a signal from the only music station still available on Mars, run by some kids in the Utopia refugee camp trying to stave off boredom and the constant worry of invasion.
"Punk's got the right idea," said Redstone, amused. "Forget about it for tonight. Tomorrow we can plan some way of bringing down Stilton's Castle – there has to be some way in, right? But for tonight, I wanna forget about the war and just let loose."
Carbine nodded, shooting the group a grin before going to sit with Throttle and Stoker, waiting for Vinnie to join them. The white mouse was still messing with the radio, a wide smile spreading across his face as he finally got a reception.
"Radio Free Mars, bootleggin' Earth rock n' roll, loud, proud and b-b-bad to the b-b-bone!" He did an athletic back flip, landing on a nearby table on his hands and startling the hell out of the mice sat there, before slamming face first into one of the girders near the ceiling and sliding to the floor.
Carbine sighed and covered her face, snickering quietly to herself. "Oh yeah, that's our Vinnie."
"I think the family motto was 'leap before you look'," agreed Throttle with a chuckle.
Carbine watched Vinnie with an affectionate grin on her face – one that slowly faded as Harley, the Freedom Fighters mechanic and the closest thing they had to a medic walked over to Vinnie and chatted to him while she examined the bullet wound he'd sustained earlier. They were too far away to hear the conversation, but she would definitely describe the way they looked as 'flirtatious'.
Throttle caught her glaring and checked out what had pissed her off, shaking his head when he realised. Pitching his voice low so that Stoker couldn't hear, he said, "Don't tell me you're jealous ofHarley?"
"Me? Jealous?" Carbine snorted derisively. "Absolutely not. But I could patch up Vinnie y'know."
"And she's got something going with your uncle – her liking Vinnie would be just wrong."
"I know that," hissed Carbine. "But I'm not sure her and Stoke do have anything going on – not that I'm worried."
"It's just Vinnie's way," said Throttle. "Y'know, when he was about thirteen, he'd flirt with my mom to get us snacks?"
Carbine raised an eyebrow, regaining some of her good humour at the thought. "No way."
"Yup. A real smooth talker and she was secretly flattered."
"How did you feel about it?"
"Mortified," replied Throttle promptly, making Carbine grin. But any other questions she might have asked were interrupted by the arrival of Mace to the table.
"Hey, nice calls back at Brimstone Rookie," said Mace, resting a hand on Carbine's shoulder.
"Why, thank you Mace," she replied, flattered. "I've been getting some pointers from Stoke."
"Yeah, we're gonna pulverise those Plutarkian pug fish," said Throttle, raising his drink in the air. "Right guys!"
The entire hall reverberated with cheers as the rest of the Freedom Fighters wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment, raising their mugs in a toast. Carbine joined in with the cheers – but paused as she noticed the look on Stoker's face. He seemed unmoved by the outpouring of bravado, scowling into his drink. Once the applause died down, he abruptly stood and walked away. Carbine watched him leave, a worried frown on her face, which deepened as Stoker's path meant she once again caught sight of Harley and Vinnie. As she watched, Harley finished tying off Vinnie's bandage and leaned over to ruffle his ears.
"Be glad you didn't nick that pretty little face of yours," she said with a grin, getting to her feet. Vinnie smiled, looking slightly embarrassed at the compliment – then looked over to Carbine out of the corner of his eye. She did not seem to be happy and his heart sank slightly. She'd never been too pleased with him being over-friendly with other girls and her expression was bordering on murderous.
"Um, I gotta go check Carbine's cooling system," he said quickly, standing up himself and sending his best charming smile at his girlfriend.
"Right," said Harley absently, noticing that Stoker had gone and looking around for any sign of him. "Keep your powder dry."
"Hey Throttle," shouted Afterburn from the Vid-screen. "You got a call from Utopia."
Throttle rolled his eyes and went over to the vid-screen, wondering if it was his mother Altezza checking up on him – he hated it when she did that but if she had heard about the battle today, she would be sure to call in at some point. However, it wasn't – it was Chopper, the kid his mom looked after her own parents had never showed after the Plutarkian invasion, his honorary baby sister. Not such a baby anymore of course. That was the trouble.
"Hey Chopper. What's going on?"
Chopper grinned into the vid-screen and Throttle noticed she wasn't alone, accompanied by her friends Rimfire and Primer, twins who were the children of his friend Modo's sister.
Wonder what happened to Modo…
He shoved that thought away in a hurry.
"Great!" announced Chopper, that determined look in her eye. He knew what that meant. "My shooting's up to a 78 accuracy average, Rimfire beat Stanchion racing today and Primer landed perfectly from twenty four feet while shooting – she got a round of applause and everything. Looks like we're ready to join the Freedom Fighters!"
Throttle sighed, resting his hands on the table and leaning closer to the vid-screen. "I've told you before Chopper, you're only sixteen – all of you," he continued, including Rimfire and Primer. Chopper was pouting and Rimfire seemed dejected, hanging his head. Only Primer looked right at him, scowling.
"Maybe when you get some more meat on your bones, you can join up," he continued, trying to mollify them even though he knew what the counter argument would be. They had been through this conversation too many times before.
"You weren't much older than us when you joined the Freedom Fighters," said Chopper, right on cue.
"Carbine was our age," added Rimfire.
"And Vinnie was even younger," finished Primer.
"There were – circumstances," said Throttle, wondering if he could get Stoker over here to put an end to the conversation once and for all. It was one thing that usually worked, but unfortunately, Stoker was nowhere in sight. He was going to have to argue this one out.
Vinnie joined Carbine at the table and wrapped his tail around her waist. "So babe, you get a kick out of watching me do my hero thing today?"
"Why don't you ask your bimbette buddy?" asked Carbine, folding her arms.
Vinnie looked confused. "Huh? She was just bandaging my leg."
"Sure."
Putting an arm around her shoulders, Vinnie laughed. "Aw, don't be jealous sweetheart – can't help it if the ladies can't resist the Vin-man!"
Carbine shoved him, imitating Vinnie's laugh sarcastically.
Vinnie frowned at her. "C'mon babe, what's eating you? This isn't about Harley."
"Stoker's acting strange," said Carbine quietly, looking over to where their leader had disappeared into another part of the base. "He's – I don't know, distracted. He's not himself. He should be happy with the way things went today, but he's in a really bad mood."
Shrugging, Vinnie grabbed his drink. "Ah, it's because the Plutarkians got away. The old-timer's got a lot on his mind."
"Maybe," replied Carbine, not entirely convinced. "I know the war's been going on a lot longer than we hoped it would and we're having trouble keeping hold of Mars, but Stoker's always been so optimistic about our chances. He's not been like that lately."
Stoker chose that moment to re-enter the main room. "Sand storm heading our way," he announced. "Everyone stay here until it's over."
Thinking over what Carbine had said, Vinnie reflected that Stoker did seem harassed, much surlier than he usually was. As Stoker retook his seat with them, Vinnie glanced at the leader. "Something bothering you Stoke?"
"Yeah Stoke," said Throttle as he too rejoined them, finally done with arguing with the kids. "You've been acting like this for weeks."
Stoker looked around at the three, taking in the other Freedom Fighters nearby who were clearly listening in, although they were pretending not to. "You wanna know the truth bros? We're fighting a losing battle here. Even if we kick the Plutarkians off Mars tomorrow, half the planet's been strip-mined into dust. Some places, there's nothing left to fight for. Haven't heard a thing from the Government since the day the stink fish invaded."
"But there's the Freedom Fighters," said Throttle, slightly taken aback by this outburst. "We can kick their stinking butts off our planet and…"
"And then what?" Stoker pounded the table angrily. "We're still in the same position, on a dying planet, surviving on the little we can get from resources we can't afford to use up and with half the cave Mouse population already dead or prisoner… what's the point?"
"Maybe there isn't one," said Mace, walking up behind Carbine and Vinnie.
Carbine turned to face him, eyes flashing angrily. "Of course there is! Mars can be like it used to be – we can get it back! We just need to keep going!"
"No, Mace is right," said Stoker with a sigh. "Mars is finished. There's no more Mars to fight for. And you can't be a Freedom Fighter with nothing to fight for. Understand?"