Episode Four

Some Secrets Should Stay Silent

"Throttle's communiqué says something about a monkeywrench," Jack's brow twisted in worry. "We're still meeting the same place, the same time, but he wants us to be prepared for a tag-a-long."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Charley muttered a string of swears beneath her breath. She should have known better than to trust those Mice. They were still Mice after all. Greedy, self-righteous, pig-headed, fish-kissers. "I don't think we should tell Brock about the rendezvous."

"And I am doing nothing but agreeing with the woman I love," Jack seemed to pounce then, forcing a break in the worried tension. His arms wrapped around Charlene's slim waist, and he pulled her tightly against him. The warroom was quiet for a while as they simply held each other, feeling one another breathe, while they both slowly began to relax.

"Do you ever think we should just give up?" Charley's quiet voice broke the silence, shaking slightly as she squeezed her husband tighter.

At first, Jack held a stunned silence. "We can't give up, baby."

"We could. We can run; there has to be other free humans out there. We can go someplace that we can try to be normal; somewhere that I'm not in charge." Jack stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. But she continued, oblivious to his comforts. "I hate sitting around and waiting for Mouse or Plutarkian to come knocking down our doors. I want to take the fight to them; I want to hit them so hard they remember what a fight we human's can put up. I want... I want..."

"To not have to rely on three strange Martian's for your main offensive?" Jack supplied lightly.

Charley sighed, and nodded, rubbing her nose against his chest. Jack lifted her chin up, smiling down into her beautiful green eyes.

"Our meeting is in a few hours," he whispered to her. "We have time."

"Are you?"

"Positive." He wiggled his eyebrows with Marxian flair.

Charley grinned, and couldn't help but giggle. "You are a scoundrel!"

"Karbunkle!"

The glass door shattered as a giant Size 12 boot thrust through it. The soldering iron in the scientist's hand slipped and fell into his lap. Instantly, Karbunkle learned a new twelve-step jig that put out the fire the hot metal struck on his jacket. Whipping around, the good doctor came face to sternum with the last person he wanted to see.

"Oh, Steel, what can I do for you?" he simpered, wringing his hands together as he backed away. "Perhaps a tall latte? Or some pure espresso?"

"I want your fucking head, on a platter full of shit, you egotistical megalomaniac!" Steel snarled.

"What? I don't understand?"

"Of course you don't, you fucking three-toed primate. I can't even fucking cry because of what you did to me, understand that?" Steel reached down, curling her hand in his white lab coat. Her bicep flexed and Karbunkle felt his feet leave the ground. He swallowed heavily.

"Of course, you can't," he managed out weakly. "Your eyes are my greatest achievement yet! Wh-why would you want to cry?"

"Because my wonderful, loving, spirits-fearing sister is DEAD, because of you!" Her grip tightened, and her brilliant blue eyes began to glow. Karbunkle fought to keep his composure.

"Dead?" The word exited his mouth sounding far more steeped in feminine terror than it should have.

"Dead." She snarled the word, and carelessly threw the scientist across the room. Karbunkle hit the far wall, sounding like a wet rag doll. A few moments after he slipped to the floor, he no longer moved. Scowling and angry, Steel didn't notice until she needed an answer from the doctor.

"Karbunkle? Karbunkle?" She remained where she was standing, watching the inert form in the corner for some time. "Oh, shit."

Kneeling down, she shook the doctor's arm. Nothing. Poking his bulbous head granted no response either. She nudged his foot, tweaked his nose, and even removed his goggles to silence. A tiny worm in her consciousness knew what had happened, and it even took a perverse glee in the situation. She could have giggled if she hadn't been in fear for her life. Karbunkle's body slipped a little further as she stepped away from it. Like a puppet cut from its strings, the corpse simply was there, mocking her. Steel rubbed her face, pinching her muzzle and smacking herself to assure she was not dreaming.

This is a laboratory, she told herself quietly. Any number of these contraptions could have caused... well, could have simulated what had just happened. She kept looking around, being extra careful to not actually push any buttons. What were you expecting? She scolded herself soundly after a few minutes. A button labeled "Time Machine?"

After about twenty minutes of searching for something that could help her, Steel gave up. She surveyed the body, her hands resting on her hips, as she regarded its cooling, glassy eyes. Footsteps sounded too close in the hall. Steel had to move fast. Grabbing the still smoking hunk of iron from the stand, she held it tight against the right side of her face. The smell of burning flesh and fur churned her stomach, threatening to relieve her of the morning gruel. Those eyes that Karbunkle had been so proud of moments ago calculated and measured, finding the perfect trajectory within milliseconds. Steel placed the iron prod on the floor in the proper place, and then pressed her hand against the burnt mar on her face.

"Karbunkle!"

Steel's hopes dropped through the floor. Around the corner, fixing his purple threads with huge ham-fists, came Limburger, sauntering in like he owned the place. Quietly, Steel reminded herself that he did indeed own this place. A single brow arched as he drew to a stop before Steel. She threw a finger towards the cooling corpse in the corner, before he even managed to open his mouth.

"Boss, I can explain," she started quietly, side-stepping slightly to unblock his view. "He hit me first." Inwardly, Steel groaned; surely she could have come up with something better that the puerile drivel she had just spouted.

"Damn," Limburger breathed, his wide mouth splitting into a frown. "I had hoped to keep this one for more than a few months." He seemed rather resigned about the death of his head scientist. Steel's brows arched. He held a pristine white glove up, motioning for her to remain silent for a few moments longer. From his pocket, Limburger withdrew a radio. It squelched. "Send up Number Six Four Three, on the double."

Steel's jaw clenched. 643? Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth, pressing up against her front teeth so hard it grew numb. "You mean?" She couldn't bring herself to say it. "He's a... a..."

"Clone." It fell from Limburger's mouth like a mealworm escaping death. "The six hundredth and forty third of the good Doctor to awaken, to be precise." He grinned then, as the hydraulic lift buzzed, and two human orderlies appeared to clear away the corpse.

Steel's ear twitched, once. Her bells jangled as she stepped aside, allowing the humans to pass undisturbed. "You have the technology?"

Limburger nodded slowly. "If you wanted, I could have your sister back to you. Hale, healthy and loud, as she always was."

Steel twitched again. "But... how do I..."

"Know that you are indeed... you?" Limburger chuckled as the distress became more apparent on the stoic Mouse's face. "You don't."

The orderlies disappeared back down the hydraulic shaft, while moments later, the front entrance to the lab hissed open. Yawning, and stretching as if he had just woken from a long nap, was Doctor Karbunkle.

"At least Rimfire trusts us," Modo muttered under his breath. The helmet comms picked up every breath, every last sniffle. But both his bros were quiet as they motored carefully through the decimated landscape. Halogen's jamming frequency was still working, they could hear no radio static from Limburger's base, but they could hear each other, and the labored breathing of Modo's passenger. "We're almost there, little lady. Almost there."

" How's she holding up? " Throttle sounded tinny and sharp through the cheap speaker.

"Hard to tell," Modo answered, unable to disguise the concern in his voice. "She hasn't changed, I don't think."

" That's a good sign, right? " Vinnie sounded too concerned, constantly glancing back over his should. The shield of his helmet caught the fading, pale sun, and glinted brightly.

" Easy there, ace; " Throttle's bike swerved slightly, avoiding a hole blown in the cracked road. " She'll be fine. "

Modo frowned, keeping silent. They were coming up fast on the old Diamond Mart. The glass dome of the trading structure had been blasted away, leaving minute sparkling shards glittering all over the road. Modo slowed down, keeping himself between his two bros. They surveyed the area.

In the center of the rubble, mostly disguised by the huge cambered chunks of concrete all around, was the Peacemaker. As they drew closer, they realized that it wasn't the original tank. This was a smaller construct, but it looked no less deadly. Flanking the tank were two motorcycles, idling quietly in the heavy air. Throttle was the first to stop, cutting his engine, setting the bike to rest on its kickstand. Behind him, he heard his bros hit their own kill switches.

From the shadow of the tank, Brock and Jack emerged. Brock carried a gun that was nearly as large as he was, from the rear of the weapon, a bundle of wires as thick as an arm trailed back, hooking to the tank at some invisible point. Jack's arms were crossed.

"Where's Charley?" Throttle asked, as he pulled his helmet off.

"In Twoey." With a jab over his shoulder, Jack indicated the small tank. "She can hear everything we say. What the hell is that?"

Throttle turned to see what Jack could. Vinnie was helping Modo get the bundled burden off the bike. Throttle's heart lurched as Jack pushed past him.

"Is this the monkey wrench you mentioned?" McCyber demanded. "You bring us a dead Mouse?"

"She's not dead!" Vinnie challenged, shoving Jack away from the girl. "She's sick! She needs help."

Jack fumed, eyeing his jacket were the white Mouse had touched him. "If she's contagious..."

Throttle jumped forward, intervening. "She's been poisoned. Just hear us out on this, please?"
Jack began to retort, but the hatch on Twoey hissed, and popped open. Charley shook her hair free of the helm she wore. "Stand down, Brock, you can put the Gat away." She climbed from the hatch to the fore of the tank, hopping from the treads down to the ground with a grunt. Brock lowered the huge weapon he carried at her command, but he didn't completely relinquish it. "Jack, we made a deal; we have to finish what he began. What have you learned, Mouse?"

Something inside Throttle hurt to be addressed that way. But he took a deep breath, and continued nonetheless. "The Mice inside the compound. They're not doing anything willingly. This one, Ricochet, was being poisoned, and only if Alpha did something right did she get any treatment."

"Except her treatment wasn't treatment," Vinnie interjected, coming forward slightly. "Karbunkle kept poisoning her. He tried to poison me!"

"So?" Charley gestured for Throttle to continue, turning a cold shoulder to the emphatic Mouse.

"We faked Ricochet's death so we could smuggle her out of the compound. Maybe if we can make her healthy again, Alpha squad will rebel against the Plutarkians." Throttle finished. "We can take out Limburger from the inside out, just like you planned."

"No self-respecting Mouse would be caught working for stinkfish." Modo muttered, smoothing the girl's fur with his metal fingers. "Guys, she's gettin' awful warm."

Charley sighed and rubbed her temples. "I am so going to regret this. Load her into the P.M. 2; we'll see if Danny can do anything for her."

Compulsively, Vinnie ran forward and hugged the human. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you!" He twittered, before hastily releasing her and flushing bright red. Charley wiped herself off with disgust as she backed away from him. Vinnie's eyes were screwed tightly shut so he couldn't see her face.

As Modo moved by them, Throttle put his hand on Vinnie's bicep. "I warned you, bro," he said quietly.

"I know..." Vinnie murmured turning his back to the humans. "I know."

"Now, Steel, my dear Mouse," Limburger took a step forward, reaching out one of his pristine white gloved hands towards her. Steel recoiled. "I'm not going to hurt you, my dear. I am afraid that you know too much, though. The good doctor will have to rectify that."

"Rectification, your rotund rodent renovator, is what I do best," Karbunkle wheezed with a laugh.

Steel's fists curled shut, and rose to defend herself. She wasn't about to let them take her, not without a fight. She ground her teeth, without Rico, she had nothing left to lose. "You've already taken my mousity; you're not about to have my memory."

"Gentlemen," Limburger's voice and demeanor darkened, and the hydraulic shaft opened again. Steel glanced behind her, the bells jingling softly. Three orderlies loomed up, and Steel sprung into action. She dropped to her hands and knees, and left fly with a mule kick behind her. Her big boots caught two of the men in the chest, propelling them back into the elevator, which promptly sealed shut. Getting her feet back under her, the last orderly jumped on her back, wrapping his arm around her neck. He hung all his weight off her, pushing against her throat with the crook of his arm.

Steel stumbled, and backed up, trying to gain speed without losing her balance. Her hands tingled, deprived of oxygen. Driving her weight backward, she rammed the orderly into a table. His grip barely slackened. She tried to get a grip on the back of his head, raising her arms high up and stretching back, but his shaved head slipped away from her fingers every time. She rocked again, changing vectors slightly. She rammed the corner of a wall between the man's shoulderblades, knocking the wind forcibly from him. This time she was able to grab his head, and she doubled forward, throwing all her weight into the motion.

The orderly set sail through the air, a human torpedo, aimed directly at Limburger. The massive piscine alien moved out of the way at the last second, allowing the man to crash helplessly through a pane of glass, landing in the broken shards on the other side. Steel set herself again, bells jangling loudly as she spun to survey for more attackers.

"Karbunkle, shut her down," Limburger growled as she spun to face them again.

From the pocket of his white coat, the doctor withdrew a small box. He pointed the box at the stunned Mouse, and fired a slender wire. Steel grunted as she felt the end of the wire embed itself into the fleshy part of her arm. Forcing herself to relax, she reached around and grabbed the wire. She never got a chance to pull it out, as an electrical surge coursed from the box through the wire and into her body. She screamed as every nerve sizzled and every circuit fried. Senseless, she fell to the floor with a bang. Her eyelids twitched, her fingers spasmed. Even her tail lashed about uncontrollably.

Limburger smiled at his doctor. "Repair the damages, and meet us in the incubation chambers. Bring the poor, poor, pitiful girl with you."

"Yes, your diabolical dastardliness."

Rimfire paced the garage nervously. "I tell you," he gesticulated at the mechanics. "This is a Martian custom!" He shook his head, his breath hitching. His voice choked. "Rico's gone. She's going to need her bike in the next life."

"So…" one of the human's asked, tilting his head.

"I need you to strip that thing of every trace of Plutarkian tech!" Rimfire nearly shouted. He hated repeating himself. The harder he tried to stay calm, the more difficult it got for him. "Just do it, please. Give her a full tank, and make sure she can't be tracked."

Two of the three mechanics nodded. The third bit her lower lip. "Just what is going to happen to Sparkle?"

Rimfire couldn't help but smile. The girl must have been Rico's personal mechanic if she knew the bike's name. "She's going to wander Chicago looking for Rico until her gas runs out. No one really knows what happens to the A.I., but we like to think that they'll meet again."

The young Mouse rubbed his nose as the three mechanics finally went to their task. They pulled the tarp off of Sparkle, and Rimfire ambled over to pat the choppers gas tank. The bike responded to light with a lazy, inquisitive beep. The engine purred, and the front wheel turned to press against the female mechanic. Internal silence, surrounded by the clatter of tools, Rimfire remembered the first time he ever saw Rico.

"She's the prettiest girl on the block," a bright voice chimed at his shoulder. With a grin, he found himself agreeing, but not about the bike. The petite Mouse was a vision sent straight from the stars; fur like a star-studded Martian night, and a smile that glittered like the sun.

She passed right by Rimfire, and knelt beside the laid-back chopper. It sparkled like the girl's personality did, littered with a thousand tiny motes of light on a field of deep indigo. The seat was contoured, all the proportions just right to fit the little Mouse crouched beside it. Rimfire came forward, settling down beside her.

"Hey," he grinned again, trying not to stare into those eyes black as pitch. "I'm Rimfire."

"Rico," she extended her hand, but only after wiping it off on her pants. Rimfire found the action charming, as he deftly took her hand, then twisted it, into a dashing approximation of something his uncle taught him. As he kissed the back of her hand, she giggled.

"A pleasure to meet you, Sir Rimmy!" Her laughter was infectious; and he soon joined her.

Internal System Reboot: Initiated

Auditory…… okay

Olfactory…… okay

Visual …… okay

Tactile …… okay

System Check …… successful. Reboot complete.

Steel woke with a gasp of agony. Every muscle seemed to spasm uncontrollably at once, sending her into a full bodied flinch that strained her against whatever restraints held her. Her wrists were tied down; her ankles, waist and even her tail strapped all tightly. Her vision was blurry, and unfocused as she pried her eyelids open. An odd buzzing permeated the air, causing her head to throb harder.

"I want to know how those three got here, and why you aren't giving me the answers I need!" It was Limburger's voice, somewhere off to the left, a rumble that nearly verged on hysterics. "Gods, I can't stand being cooped up here with your incompetence for another minute!" He hit something, sending the poor object of his frustration slamming against the wall near Steel's predicament.

A hand touched her, and she gnashed her teeth at the blurry figure. But the hand was insistent, examining every crevasse of her body. A moment of silence passed as the hand drew away, attached to some oddly shaped lump of white. Limburger's voice scoffed again.

"I know she isn't injured, you nincompoop. Is she awake yet? Or still just acting on primal instinct?"

"I'm awake," Steel rasped. "What do you want with me Limburger? Alpha Squad will know if you replace me with a clone…. And Ricochet too. Everyone knows she's dead; I made sure of it."

Things slowly began to come into focus as Limburger tsk-ed at her. She was being held vertically, against a wall. Hanging before her was a Plutarkian cutting torch, and an array of robotic arms. Steel held her breath, and fought down the panic. She kept pushing, further out, focusing. It felt like someone was driving an ice pick through her brain. The figure in the white lab coat shuffled by, an awkward gait to fit to the twisted and hunched figure it carried.

"A failed experiment," Limburger's voice chimed at her right hand. Steel looked down. The fish seemed, different. Slightly thinner, perhaps, but the purple suit made it hard to tell. A white gloved hand stroked the human mask, running over the triple chin as he fell into thought. "Brilliant mind, but a twisted body. Unfortunately, as I am stuck in this squalid hellhole, I am forced to deal with second rate scientists."

Steel growled. "You made this place a squalid hellhole!"

"Ah, yes, that. I'm afraid you couldn't comprehend the truth if I were thrown in your face." Limburger sighed, and moved away from her, to a bank of computers. Against one wall, two giant coils of metal stood silent and watchful. "You see, there is so much wrong with the world. And I am imprisoned by myself, to live out my life in horror and fear." He sighed, placing his palms against the console. "But those three!" He pointed suddenly at the wall, and Steel craned to see. Three effigies, crudely drawn pictures of each of the new Mice, crafted into three dartboards.

"You're not very good at darts," Steel forced with a wry chuckle. "Just fuckin' let me down!"

"If they're back, then the world must be trying to set itself right. You say that your sister died. Both of you are supposed to die… dead, gone and buried. I will never understand why Camembert didn't execute you when he had the chance." White gloves fluttered as Limburger moved across the room. "And if I could just get my hands on one, just one, Karbunkle. Then we could set everything right, and I would go back to my petty war with those miserable rodents."

"What are you talking about?" Steel felt a small ball of fear wad up in her stomach. It sat like a rock, threatening to drag her into the current of his mad ramblings.

A video screen squelched. " Have you made any progress cloning her? " Again, it was Limburger's voice, and Limburger's face on the screen.

"What the fuck?" Steel twisted in her restraints. One Limburger was bad enough, but a Limburger and an insane clone!

"I need Karbunkle," whined the Limburger in the room. "She's too complex for me to just clone. There's cybernetics to exchange, and… and her eyes…"

" You will not get Karbunkle, " the vidscreen snarled. " I know you, as well as I know myself. Do not forget that. I will not have you going back to fix your mistakes. Clone her. You have 24 hours. "

With a snap, and a little white dot, the vidscreen popped out. Taking his red handkerchief from his pocket, Limburger wiped his sweaty face. He came back over to Steel, grabbed her muzzle in his hand, and turning her face from side to side. "Too complex. Far too complex." He sighed softly. "But I must attempt. I am sorry, Steel. I have doomed us all."

He turned away from her, presenting a broad, purple canvassed back to her. She strained again, to break free from the restraints. And she swore softly. "Let me loose," she beseeched. "Tell me what he meant; let me help you fix your mistakes."

Once more, Limburger sadly shook his head. "It is beyond both of us now. But, all I need is Karbunkle. If I release you, can you bring me Karbunkle?" He sighed as she nodded. "I will regret this choice for the rest of my life. But if it will return things to the way they were, if it will free me from this self-induced prison, and make this twisted reality vanish into thin air. If you can promise me all of this…"

"I can," Steel interjected. "I don't understand what's happening, and I won't pretend to understand. But Limburger-" she pointed at the black video screen, with her muzzle, "-that Limburger, has to be stopped."

She fixed her gaze upon his, locking his dark eyes into a stare-down while he warred internally. "Very well." He conceded with a nod, and reached for the switch to release the captive Mouse. "You, my dear, are quite possibly a Mouse after my own heart."

Limburger stepped around to a control screen. Steel's breath caught with a primal fear as the robotic limb before her began to emit a high pitched whine. It rotated once, sight-finders dancing across her dark fur like a playground. It whistled, and beeped, and finally, slowly, bent at the highest joint, and maneuvered out of the way. Steel panted softly, as the muscle just under her right eye twitched. With a dry chuckle, Limburger jabbed a finger at the button that released the magnetic holds on her bonds.

Steel dropped to the floor with a metallic clang, and the tinkling of a myriad of bells. She rose with a graceful stretch, arching and relieving the air pockets trapped in her joints. The sounds she created were absolute magic, each one bursting like a miniature bubble. Her ear twitched this time, as she turned to face Limburger.

"I need to see a map of the doctor's private rooms," she mentioned, rolling her neck. During a pause in the motion she pointed at the vidscreen. Like a sheep, the giant alien turned his wide back, and left the Mouse staring at an expanse of purple, topped with a bobbing black toupee. For a split second, she was sorry, but it passed.

Her fist was a small ball peen hammer crunching into the back of Limburger's skull. With a sick thud, he slumped forward, breaking his nose on the screen. Steel didn't try to catch him, as he slid from the counter, to the floor, and lay in a lifeless purple lump on the floor. Kneeling by his head, she felt the wound, grimacing as her fingers met cold, clammy fish-flesh. He was bleeding, but he would survive.

A slow smirk began to creep its way into Steel's mouth. She swung her head towards the upright slab, and grinned at the fish beneath her. It took her a few minutes, but she hoisted him up into the cuffs. And leaning over the console, she spun the vast array of arms back into position. With the roles reversed, she felt confident enough to try the vidscreen.

"Rimfire?" She asked softly. "Come on, Rimfire, be there." The screen pixilated, and focused, showing her the interior of Alpha Squad's common room. She sighed with relief as she caught a glimpse of the new guys playing pool. "Rimfire!"

" Steel! Where the hell are you? The guys are back, " Rimfire ran to the screen, before jumping over the back of the chair, and sitting down hard. After a few moments, the three others crowded around him. " Everything went well, but… "

Rimfire trailed off, as Steel moved off to one side slightly. "We have a problem. Can you trace my signal and meet me down here? Bring explosives."

Behind her, Limburger groaned and rolled his eyes around. "Paradox, a paradox, a lovely little paradox," he mumbled to himself. "My fault, all of this… I couldn't get back in time."

Rimfire swore softly. Vinnie echoed him, then sunk his teeth hard into the bottom of his mouth to remind himself that he wasn't dreaming.

" Oh, mama, " Modo whispered.

" We'll be there, Steel, give us ten minutes. " Rimfire tried to smile as he began to punch buttons on the vid's console. On screen, Steel nodded, and moved out of view. Limburger's quiet rambling was the only sound the speakers emitted.

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