Hey you guys...

Thank you so much for the reviews.
SpaceFlora; a special thanks for you, I was very humbled by your kind words and your enthusiasm warmed my heart.
Thank you for that.

So, next chapter.
Enjoy and feel free to leave a review.

Thanks for supporting me.
Till next time, my loyal readers!

Later!

Chapter 3

Silence, like a cancer, grows…

Strange, how despite the roaring engines, hollering mice, growling Memphants and screaming enemies, it was silence that prevailed right before the good and the bad collided.
It was no longer than a split second, but it was there.
For a moment, one could only hear its own breathing.
It was soon joined by the soft sound of blood rushing to its brains.
A ticking sound.
Time.
Time slowed down.
Tick… tock…
Muscular contractions as a result of a body preparing itself for impact.
Eyes narrowed as they locked with the enemy.
The enemy who was hell-bent on their destruction.
Teeth clenched because of pure hatred.
...tick...
...tock…

...silence...

Collision came with the sound of Martian thunder so loud.
The sprawling desert carried the sound miles away, only to vanish into thin air.
Time took a leap forward now.
As if it was trying to catch up on the delay before impact.
The sound of silence was now chased away by the one of violence.
One had no time to think, not anymore.
Hatred, determination and adrenaline clouded the brain.
Only one thing to do.
Fight.
Only one thing to make it stop.
Death.

"AAAOOOWW! You're messing with Vinnie van Wham, baddest mamma jammer from this side of the asteroid belt!"
The white-furred mouse was standing on his bike, holding a laser gun in each hand and he shot everyone who dared to come close at his sides.
Still able to have fun, despite the gravity of the situation, because that's just who he was.
Needing the adrenaline to feel alive, the more, the better.
His rare moment of seriousness, the one he had right before hell broke loose, already long gone in the wind.
His bike, his best friend, drove full speed through the Army of Death, firing her laser to clear the path that was in front of her.
Two peas in a pod, him and his bike.
Fighting a war with style.
Biker Mice style.
Everything else forgotten.
Eyes down to avoid the burning gaze of death himself.
Living in the moment, as he always did.
Don't think.
Just act.

A load roar behind him made his fur bristle. It was a sound he had never heard before and his body told him what it meant; imminent danger.
For some that would be a reason to panic, but not for the white-furred daredevil.
Although he had to admit, the sound made him curious, but just when he was about to look over his shoulder and without any warning, his bike suddenly stopped.
All this happened in nothing more but a split second.
There was no time to prepare. No time to brace himself.
Vinnie got catapulted forward, his tail did one last desperate attempt to grab the windshield of his bike to avoid a nasty fall, but he missed. The red sand which defined the Martian desert came closer and closer and he quickly turned his fall into a more controlled landing.
His shoulder touched the ground first and he made himself small, even wrapped his tail around his right leg.
The speed wich with he was falling, along with gravity, took care of the rest and after a few head rollers, he landed hard on his back and finally came to a halt.
But even if he'd managed to take over control, the landing still knocked the wind out of him.
"Ah man…", he panted, forced to lay still for a moment, to give his body the time it needed to recover.
A mouse could not fight without air in his lungs.
But, as mentioned before, time was never on their side.
Not for those who were living in a war.
And certainly not on a battlefield.
A shadow fell over him.
Something dripped on his helmet.
It was too thick to be water, to thin to be blood.
Slowly, the white-furred mouse looked up and his eyes grew big.
Sharp teeth.
Black fur.
Red eyes that stared back at him.
Memphant.
The beast was enormous.
Spit out of hell by the devil himself.
His mouth was just inches away from Vinnie's face and even if it was only half open, the word 'big' still didn't cover it.
Its breathing fogged the visor of his helmet and the youngest member of the Freedom Fighters now understood that it was no water that dripped on his helmet, nor it was blood.
It was drool.

Still gasping for air, he tried to get his body into movement, but it was no use.
The beast now fully opened its mouth and roared loudly.
Its breath was even warmer than the wind that was already going through his snow-white fur. Even the high-tech helmet he was wearing, specially designed for a Martian Cave Mouse, couldn't keep out the smell, the smell of rotten meat.
The smell of death.
The white-furred adrenaline junkie wasn't that easily impressed, but even he couldn't stop the chill that went down his spine.
But make no mistakes, it wasn't because he was scared.
It was because things didn't go according to plan.
This was not his idea of dying in a blaze of glory.
The beast opened its mouth again and came closer, all ready to bite off the head of this creature that was lying helplessly at its feet, completely at its mercy.
And unfortunately for the white-furred mouse, mercy was one thing this life form did not know.
Vinnie squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself…
But all of a sudden, the Memphant roared again and he felt warm splatters landing on his fur.
The roar sounded different this time and his eyes flew open, still expecting to see the inside of a mouth, still expecting to feel sharp teeth around his neck any moment now... but all he saw was the clear pink sky.
All he felt was his heart racing in his chest and the heat of the sun burning on his fur.
And then, even more suddenly, his body was recharged, all ready to move again.
With the speed of light, Vinnie jumped at his feet and looked wildly around him.
Fists clenched, every muscle tight like a drum, all ready to rumble.
His ruby red eyes eventually landed on the Memphant, that was now lying on the ground with a hole the size of a Martian Mellon in its head.
One didn't need to have knowledge about Memphants to see that the beast was dead.
A bike came to halt with shrieking brakes and the white-furred youngster felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You okay, bro?", Modo's deep voice filled his ears and relief now rushed through his veins.
Talk about good timing.
"Slick save, bro", Vinnie breathed as he looked to his right, straight into the worried face of his older bro, for once not even bothered by the blood that was now stuck in his usual snow white fur.
"That coming from you is saying something", the grey-furred giant answered drily. "I'll cherish this moment forever, for however long that may be."
A sudden movement in the corner of his one eye caught his attention.
His brain registered too late that it was a rat attacking them.
But right before the black furred enemy reached them, he suddenly dropped on the floor to never rise again.
Both Vinnie and Modo now looked to their left, only to see Stoker driving by, spinning the still smoking gun around his right finger with a smugly smile.
"Teatime is over, rookies."
Vinnie's lips curled into a smile as he shared an amused look with Modo.
"Can't argue with that, bro", and he whistled between his teeth.
His bike, luckily not that damaged, stopped next to him and he jumped back in the saddle.
Popping a wheelie, he fist bumped with Modo.
"Let's knock 'em till we drop 'em!"
And they threw themselves into chaos again.

A little further away from them, Throttle was having his hands full with a group of Sand Raiders. The dog looking creatures may look stupid, but when in big groups, they were actually hard to defeat.
And since they came with the whole pack, including Plutarkians and rats, well…
Even one of the most experienced and best soldier of the Freedom Fighters was having a hard time bringing them down.
Soon, he was completely surrounded, but the tan-furred mouse remained calm.
One very wise once told him that panic never helped anyone.
A phrase he believed to be true.
The Sand Raider on his right tried to jump on him, but he quickly lashed out with his fist. His knuckles made contact with the nose of the drooling, stupid looking creature and a loud crack was heard. The dog let out a shrill screech before his body landed on the ground with a loud thump, already unconscious or maybe even dead.
It was a nice move if he may say so himself.
But the friends of the unfortunate fellow were not impressed, in fact, it made them even angrier. The one on Throttle's left let out a loud growl, a sign to attack and the whole group threw themselves on top of the tan-furred mouse. Who used his fists, feet and tail to get them off of him. But they still managed to drag him off his bike and soon, he was lying in the warm sand, being completely buried under the group of Sand Raiders.
Still calm, but determined, Throttle clenched his teeth and fought back with everything he had in him.
He might die today.
But not like this.
Certainly not like this.

But it's what one could call a challenge.

Sand Raiders were foul creatures. Since strength wasn't something they could rely on in a fight, they used their teeth and nails. And even if their nails weren't that sharp as those from a Memphant, even if their jaws weren't made for a prey as big as a Martian Mouse, it still hurted like hell.
A moan escaped Throttle's lips when he felt teeth going through fur and skin on his left arm. He tried to crawl out from under them, but next to ugly and stupid, Sand Raiders were fat and therefore heavy.
Really heavy.
"Oh man, I never thought it would end like this", the tan-furred mouse breathed, still trying to escape. "Being crushed by Sand Raiders, how stupid."
It probably had been wiser not to waste his breath by saying that out loud.
Because breathing became more and more difficult by the weight pressing on his chest and the smelly fur that was covering his face didn't help either. That wouldn't have happened if he still had his helmet on, but the dogs had pulled it off his head when they attacked him.
He fought to get air, he did everything within his power to get the hell out of this oppressive situation, but it was no use.
It started with a few cramps, but soon, his whole body convulsed, every cell in his body now screaming for oxygen.
He closed his eyes.
But not because he gave up, no…
No, he gave in.
This day would be his last, after all.
That he knew.
From the moment he'd seen Modo's face, back in the garage, he knew.
It wasn't exactly going the way he thought it would go, but some things just were impossible to plan.
Death was one of those things.
The growling sound, which was made by the dogs who were the cause of his upcoming death, slowly faded.
The bright light of the sun, that peeked through the fur of the Sand Raider who was sitting on his face, slowly darkened.
And while his body was still fighting to get oxygen, expressed by painful muscular contractions, his soul was at peace now.
Like mentioned before, he'd lived his life the fullest.
It was okay.
There was nothing he could do to stop it, to stop himself from dying.
If there was, he would grab the opportunity with both hands and tail.
Not because he wanted to live for himself, but to be able to protect his bro's.
To protect them, his family, from whatever wanted to hurt them, like he always did.
But there simply wasn't.

A strangely familiar sizzling sound suddenly made its way to his ears, but his brain was too occupied with screaming for oxygen to give it a name.
A loud explosion followed and suddenly, the pressure on his chest was gone.
The sleazy fur, the one that was tickling his face just seconds ago, also gone.
Throttle's eyes flew open.
He could breathe again.
And so he did.
Gasping for air, he flew upright. The warm air filled his burning lungs and for a moment, all he could do was to sit there and breathe.
Breathe as he had never breathed before.
Someone kneeled down in front of him and reached out his helmet.
Adjusting his glasses and still breathing heavily, he looked up, straight into a pair of brown eyes.
"Hey there, stranger. Just catching a breath?"
"Funny", Throttle rasped. "But thanks."
And he took his helmet from her.
Carbine offered him her hand and he gratefully took it, having no ego standing in the way to let someone help him from time to time.
Still coughing, the tan-furred mouse put back on his helmet as he looked at the crater that Carbine's grenade had made. The fire was already slowly dying, but that was okay. It served its purpose.
Sand Raiders were petrified of fire.
Throttle did a quick body check, but next to a few bite wounds, he was relatively unharmed.
Looking up, he saw a group of Plutarkians running up to them.
There was no time to recover.
No time to realize that this was the closest to death he'd ever been.
No time to hope that it wouldn't happen again.
Or, at least, not like this.
Carbine gave him a pat on the shoulder as she took place on her bike.
"Come on, even if it feels pointless, we need to keep going. For Mars."
Throttle lifted his bike, which was lying in the red sand close to him, and once back on his seat, he closed his visor.
"For Mars."
And together, they did what they were trained for.
Freedom wasn't something they took for granted.
So they fought.
Fought for what's theirs as they were used to.

...

Time past.
Seconds became minutes.
Minutes became hours.
The mice fought and fought.
With everything they had in them, they fought.
Seeing friends, acquaintances and even mice who were complete strangers to them fall next to them.
From one moment fighting side by side to the next moment fighting alone.
The blood of those who fell in the name of Mars, along with the blood of the enemies they did manage to take down, turned the red sand black.
The sun melted it into one viscous substance, another thing to the mice their detriment. The sticky mass stayed stuck to the rubber of their tires, giving the bikes, and therefore their riders, a hard time with gaining speed or making sharp turns.
But even that couldn't stop him.
Only death could.

Modo managed to fight off three rats, but before his brain registered that he had succeeded, he was already attacked again, this time by a Plutarkian who tried to finish the job that the rat's before him couldn't.
Instinct told him to duck and so he did, because he'd learned to trust on his instinct a long time ago now. The laser fire from the fish burned away the hairs on his back, but Modo didn't complain, simply because things could be much worse.
In one movement, he got back upright and raised his metal arm, which carried a weapon more deadly than one could think of, to shot the fish who was responsible for attempting to be his hairdresser.
Of course, he didn't miss and the fish was no longer his concern.
He now had the time to take a quick look around him and his heart just dropped.
"Oh, momma…If only you could see this..."
But he was, for the first time in his life, glad that she wasn't able to.
He was grateful that at least she had been spared the horror which was part of war.
They had managed to deplete the Army of Death.
Unfortunately, the Army of Death had managed to almost completely wipe out the group of Freedom Fighters.
The grey-furred giant now scanned his surrounding, searching for his bro's as his heartbeat rose even higher than it already was.
His gaze wandered over the bodies that were lying in the sand, enemy or friend, some heavily mutilated, some as if they fell asleep with their eyes open.
But soon and to his great relief, he saw Vinnie fighting on his left, still on his bike but for once being quiet as a mouse.
With a face like thunder instead of his usual elated facial expression.
Even his wide smile was absent.
Modo realized he hadn't heard his younger bro's characteristic battle cries for a while now and he knew, he just knew, that all these findings added together came to only one conclusion.
Even the always eager, never getting tired adrenaline junkie thought what Modo was thinking now too.
They had lost.
There was no way that they were gonna be able to win this.
It was over.
Everything was lost.
Mars was lost.

"Pull back, I repeat, pull back", Modo suddenly heard Throttle's voice over the radio, as if the tan-furred mouse could read his mind.
Confusion clouded his brain and not long after that, the questions started to raise.
Pull back?
Why though?
What was the point?
There was nowhere to go.
Next to Martian Heaven that is.
"We are not gonna die today."
Modo looked over his shoulder and saw his bro and leader standing on a hill close by the battlefield, not far away from his own position.
Throttle looked back at him and signaled to come over to him.
The grey-furred giant had no idea what was on Throttle's mind and yet, he immediately obeyed.
Not because he was a mouse known to be submissive, but because he trusted the tan-furred mouse with his life.
There was no reason to ask questions.
So, he whistled between his teeth to get Vinnie's attention.
Movement on his right, along with an awful scent that tickled his nose, pronounced the arrival of another Plutarkian who was determined to take him down.
After raising his arm cannon again, he locked eyes with Vinnie and shot the fish at the same time.
He didn't need to look to find out if he had succeeded.
He just knew he did.
"Come on, Vin, let's bail."
He expected a protest, because his younger bro usually wasn't that fond of running. He himself wasn't either, but there was one thing they both hated even more and that was losing.
Therefore, it wasn't really that much of a surprise that the white-furred mouse gave him a thumbs up as he kicked a rat in the face to get rid of him.

Laser fire rained down on them when they both turned tail and sped towards their bro and leader.
As fast as the sand let them, that is.
When they were close to Throttle, the latter turned around and signaled to follow him.
"The Plutarkians just brought in a new shipment of soldiers with two spaceships. We are gonna take the ships and get the hell out of here", his husky voice was heard over the radio.
"We never run, Throttle", Stoker's voice suddenly answered sharply.
"We stay and fight to take back what's ours or we die trying and you know that!"
Apparently, and to the bro's their relief, the brown furred mouse had managed to stay alive too and he now joined them on the way to the ships.
Throttle looked over his shoulder to his mentor.
"With all due respect, Stoke, but this is no battle for what's ours anymore. This is a slaughter. Don't get me wrong, I have no trouble with giving my life for the cause, but I refuse to be slaughtered like a helpless Martian Piggy Pig. And I sure as hell refuse to watch how my closest friends, my family, are getting killed in a battle that has nothing to do with war anymore."
He didn't yell.
He didn't even raise his voice.
But that wasn't necessary.
The tone in his voice was enough for the others to know that he wasn't fooling around.
It wasn't because he wanted to disobey a direct order from his superior, but looking death straight in the eye had reminded him of his vow.
His vow to do everything within in his power to protect the ones he loved.
And not even Stoker was gonna be able to stop him from doing that.
Support came from an unexpected source.
"He's right."
Throttle looked at his left and he even felt more relieved when he saw Carbine pop up behind him. They had lost each other shortly after she'd saved him from that horrible fate and he was more than happy to see that she was still here. The light grey-furred female gave him a warm smile before she focussed her attention back at the ships that were their ticket out of here.
"Ah lighten up, oldtimer. The way I see it, we're about to take back what's ours", Vinnie said optimistically.
"Oh really, huh? And how's that?", Stoker replied grumpily, not even close to being optimistic and somehow annoyed that his youngest pupil was.
That loudmouth still had a lot of growing up to do… obviously.
The white-furred mouse pointed at the two ships, not impressed by the sullen tone in Stoker's voice.
"Martian Army ships. The stinkfaces stole it from them… We're just gonna return the favor. If that ain't taking back what's ours, I'm not sure what is."
"Hate to say it, but he's got a point, coach", Modo added, amazed by Vinnie's talent that allowed him to see the bright sides of the darkest situations.
But Stoker ignored them, it was clear that the older brown furred mouse was having an inner battle he didn't want to share.
Yet.
Getting closer and closer to salvation, a few other survivors joined them along the way.
The Army of Death was on their left, all eyes down, clearly looking for survivors to kill.
But since they were out in the open, since there was no place to hide, it didn't take long until the enemy soldiers in the frontline discovered the small group. And it would be only a matter of time before they would reach them.
Again, time wasn't on their side.
But they were so close.
So close…

"Perhaps you're right, Th…."
But Stoker's words vanished into the sound the loud explosion, made by a Plutarkian Missile which landed in the middle of the group.
The giant shockwave separated them. Throttle, Modo and Vinnie managed to stay on their bikes, a thing that had nothing to do with skills, but all with having the luck that the explosion was behind them.
However, Carbine, Stoker and the others were less fortunate.
Carbine got thrown off her bike and landed hard on the ground. Stoker's bike crashed against hers and he also lost his balance.
"No! Modo, go and open that ship! Vinnie, cover me!", Throttle ordered as he turned his bike.
"On it!", Modo answered and sped towards the ship, shooting everyone who dared to stand in his way.
The tan-furred leader drove back to his fallen comrades, followed by Vinnie.
But all of a sudden, the frontline of the army had reached them and a group of Plutarkians, along with a Memphant, lined themselves up between the two bro's and the rest of the group.
"Going somewhere?", one of the soldiers smirked evilly as he aimed his gun.
Giving the two mice no time to answer, he pulled the trigger. The rest also opened fire and Throttle and Vinnie were forced to pull back.
"Split and hit number eight", Throttle ordered calmly, but urgently.
He and Vinnie drove back towards the ship to create some distance between them and the Plutarkians who were standing in their way.
"Cover us, big fella", the tan-furred leader said when they were near the ship and Modo saluted, stationing himself on the now open loading ramp.
When Throttle and Vinnie almost touched the ramp with their front tires, they both made a sharp turn.
Throttle to the left, Vinnie to the right.
Modo opened fire from the center, his youngest bro from the right.
And so they tried to create an opening for their bro and leader, but again, the numbers were against them.
The heavy firepower of the group Plutarkians forced them back to the ship again.
Throttle saw how Stoker was back on his feet and now ran towards Carbine as the rest of the group fought off rats and Plutarkians.
He also saw that it was impossible to reach them.
But he had to at least try.
Now on his own again, because Modo was busy with some rats who popped up out of nowhere, Vinnie tried to cover him, but even his heavy artillery wasn't up against the big group of enemies.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't hold them much longer, Throttle!", he exclaimed, being annoyed but also, for the first time in a long while, scared.
Scared that he was gonna be forced to watch his leader and one of his best friends die in front of him.
To watch him giving up his own life to save the other.

Apparently, Carbine felt the same fear.
She was already back on her feet and firing her laser gun to keep the enemy away, fighting for freedom, once again.
She looked over her shoulder, her brown eyes wide open.
"Go! I don't want you to risk your life for me, Throttle! GO!"
"No, I'm not leaving you behind!"
The tan-furred mouse did another attempt to reach her, but the Memphant now blocked his way.
Vinnie saw it happen, but still had his hands full with keeping the others at distance. With his tail, he snatched a flair out of his bandolier, lit it and threw it towards the Memphant.
It was nothing more but a desperate attempt to keep his leader safe.
And he failed.
Much to the horror of himself, he failed.
Because the flair flew over the Memphants head and landed a few feet away.
"Ah man, can you believe this shit? I hereby officially hate this day!", the white-furred mouse called out, no longer being just annoyed, no…
He was starting to get angry.
This was not his idea of having a good time.
His endeavor only made the Memphant even more furious and the big beast roared loudly.
So loud, that it even took Stoker's attention.
When his gaze landed on the scene in front of him, he realized a few things at the same time.
One; there was no way that his two pupils were gonna be able to break through, not even when Modo would join them. He, Carbine and the others were completely surrounded.
Two; he didn't even want them to try.
The ship and therefore freedom was within hands reach for them and trying to get him and the others out would have only one outcome.
They would die.
All of them.
Three; he didn't want them to die.
Throttle was right, this was a slaughter.
He wanted them to live.
They deserved to live.
Four; they were never gonna leave him and Carbine behind, not without the right encouragement.
So, he started by making the decision for them.
"Carbine is right, rookies. Go! Now!", he yelled as he slammed two Plutarkian heads against each other with so much force, the two fish were already unconscious or dead when their bodies touched the ground.
"No! We never leave someone behind, remember? Ain't that what you always taught us, huh? Ain't that the fundamental rule of the Freedom Fighters?", Vinnie protested, still trying to find an opening, risking his own life in the process.
"Since when do you care about rules, huh punk? Lemme give ya a word of advice, this is not the time to start. Go! That's an order!"
And then, as the right encouragement...
"Remember your promise, Throttle."
Throttle froze when he heard these words, but he soon realized his mentor was right.
He needed to protect his bro's, no matter the cost.
If he refused to pull back now, they were all lost.
And then everything would've been for nothing.
Like mentioned before, one who lived in war had to deal with complex dilemmas.
The one more difficult than the other.
The Memphant that was still standing close to him, apparently decided now was a good time to attack.
Unknown to the beast, the timing couldn't be worse.
A leader needed to make decisions in the heat of the moment.
This was one of those moments.
The tan-furred mouse looked at Carbine and she looked back.
Their eyes locked and for a short matter of time, it was just him and her.
She nodded to him, her eyes warm, her way of telling him it was okay.
Throttle let out his breath and another small piece of his soul crumbled into dust as he made the decision.
He knew what to do now.
Things weren't completely lost yet.
"Vincent, retreat", he ordered with his most authoritative voice as he himself turned his bike right before the Memphant reached him.
"But, Throttle…"
"Now! We can't help them from here, but we might be able to clear the way for them once we're in the air!"
The white-furred mouse looked one more time at Stoker and Carbine, who were fighting for their lives, so where the others of the small group. But the Plutarkians that were standing in their way, including the Mempant, came too close and he was forced to turn his bike too.
"Ugh, okay, fine! Let's get that thing in the air and then I'll show these suckers what Martian thunder is!"

With Modo's cover, they made it inside the ship.
"Change of plans, big fella", Vinnie told his older bro as he jumped off his bike before it skidded to a halt and he slammed with his fist on the button to close the ramp.
"We're not just gonna leave them, now are we?", the gray-furred giant asked while firing his arm cannon over and over again to keep the enemy out as the ramp slowly closed.
"Of course not. Airborn number seven", Throttle explained as he took place behind the controls with a heavy heart.
This had to work.
As the engines slowly warmed up, Vinnie opened one compartment of his bike and pulled out the backpack with some difficulty.
"I'll show them what happens when you mess with this mouse", he mumbled angrily and grabbed a bazooka that was almost as big as himself.
Well, after putting the two pieces together, that is.
"Hang tight, bro's, here we go", Throttle warned them.
The ship rocked and came loose from the ground.
Vinnie almost lost his balance, mainly because of the heavy weight of the huge bazooka he was holding, but managed to stay on his feet.
"Airborn number seven, coming right up", Modo rumbled as he pulled down a lever.
A small window big enough for an average sized weapon opened next to the now closed loading ramp.
The white-furred mouse went down on his knees and pushed the bazooka through the small opening, which barely fitted because the thing was everything but average size.
But Vinnie wouldn't be Vinnie if he didn't make it work.
Using the visor on the impressive weapon, he aimed and locked the target, namely; the group of enemies that was standing between the second ship and the remains of the group.
Between death and freedom.
"Hasta la vista, motherfuckers."
And he pulled the trigger.