Episode 6

All's Fair…

"In twenty-four hours, I have lost control of my best squad," Limburger twined his fingers together, raising a single brow. "I have the feeling that you know the reason why."

Rimfire drew a slow breath. "I told you what I know. The new guys are moving equipment, out to a location we think the humans have been visiting."

There was silence as Limburger judged the veracity of his statement. "No, my dear boy, you told me only what they wanted you to." The Plutarkian sighed, and leaned forward. "However am I going to ever find Primer if you keep being so insubordinate?"

The Mouse bristled. "Have you even been looking for her?" Rimfire gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that the wood splintered. "Are you looking for her, like you helped Rico?"
"Gentle with the furniture, boy," Limburger's voice dropped an octave. "Ricochet's circumstances were unfortunate. But it is the sniper, Steel, that concerns me now."

"Bull! Forget Steel!" Rimfire forced himself to release the wood. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped he was sounding as careless and angry as he meant to. No script, not today, even if he knew exactly what he wanted to say. "Rico's dead because you didn't listen to me! What were you planning to do? Clone her?"

Limburger's eyes narrowed, and the great Fish leaned forward slightly. "Oh, really now?"

Panic surged through Rimfire; he glanced aside to escape from those beady cold eyes. He slipped; damn it, he slipped! Limburger chuckled softly, and the Mouse knew his fate was sealed. He could bolt, but he'd never have made it from the facility alive. He shivered in the chair, and wondered if anyone inside these walls could be trusted anymore.

"Clone you say, well, that's an interesting idea." Limburger was laying the bait out. "What would you do if I told you I had clones of both, your sister… and your little girlfriend? Hm? What would you do if I told you that you were a clone? Or perhaps its Carbine?" Limburger pinched the area between his eyes, as if he were suffering from a migraine. "But then, you've seen the subbasement, haven't you? So you would call my bluff."

Rimfire began to rise, trying to find the right words to protest. The huge Plutarkian reached to his side, and pressed a button recessed into his desk. The chair Rimfire hovered over sprouted straps that wrapped around Rimfire's waist and extremities, yanking him back down, and holding him tight.

"Oh, no, I insist that you stay awhile," Limburger cooed. Pushing another button, Limburger leaned to the microphone. "Greasepit, be so kind as to send Carbine, and the good doctor in."

" Yessir, youse da boss! " crackled back the answer.

Rimfire couldn't see the entrance of the Mouse and humanoid, but he could hear Carbine's disappointed sigh. Karbunkle set a bag down beside the chair and began to rummage through its contents. Cackling softly, he brought out a large hypodermic syringe.

"Sodium pentothal," Limburger explained. "Since you reneged on your contract, and lied to me, I feel that it is necessary to force you to talk. Carbine, my dear, confusion doesn't become you."

"Then explain," she demanded, putting a hand on Rimfire's shoulder. He was tense, trembling beneath her touch.

"Oh, I think I'll let the boy do that," Limburger smiled as Karbunkled administered the serum. Quietly, they waited while Rimfire struggled. Slowly he began to settle down, his eyes glossing over.

"Rimfire, are you with us?" Carbine asked softly, kneeling by his side.

The youth actually chuckled. "Not with you. But with Steel, and Uncle Modo, and Throttle, and Vinnie, and… and Ricochet. Always with Ricochet."

Carbine opened her mouth, but Limburger put a hand between them, forcing Carbine back a step or two. "Rimfire, how long as you been working for me."

"Three years with the squad," Rimfire slurred. "A year of it… keeping tabs on undocumented activities."

"What?" Carbine blinked.

Rimfire chuckled again, swiveling his head towards his commander. "Wow, this stuff is good. You should try some, Carbine, maybe it'll thaw you out."

Carbine's eyes widened at his audacity, and she attempted to reach around Limburger for the boy's neck. Her hands however, closed around Greasepit's fat, slimy arm. The goon passed her an oozing grin and gave her a push backwards.

"Do you require redefinition in, persay, military terms, my dear general?" Limburger smiled snidely. "Simply put, the boy corroborates the validity of your reports, supplying any missing information."

"But only because you promised me you'd find Primer!" Rimfire interjected, angrily.

The Plutarkian waved him down, and finally stepped away from Rimfire. Taking Carbine by the bicep, he led her to a seat of her own. "Please, sit, and I'll expound on the present situation. Your new Outriders are spies; they seek only to destroy the remnants of the Mouse population from the inside out. Clones, robots, rats in disguise, I have yet to figure out that particular aspect of this conundrum.

"But it seems that my little scheme has been uncovered. I cannot clone the dear sick Ricochet, because everyone knows that she is now, deceased. That means I have lost a vital part of my effort to control the less… stable members of your squad." Limburger patted Carbine's head gently. "But then, you knew that."

Slowly, Carbine nodded. Rimfire almost choked in surprise. "You knew?" he slurred, shaking his head as if it would help him focus. "You knew they were poisoning Rico? Then, you know about the cloning –!"

Limburger cut him short with a chuckle. "Dear, precious boy, Carbine is a clone!" Both Greasepit and Karbunkle joined in his laughter. Rimfire could only stare as Carbine hung her head. Her shoulders curved, as she hunched over herself, as if she were ashamed of that information. "Now, boy, I don't have a way to properly control you, any more. Your sister is obviously dead, or she would be sitting beside you now… and your girlfriend has sadly suffered the same fate. So what am I to do? Dear me…"

Limburger paced the room one full circuit before he looked to Karbunkle The scientist seemed to be vibrating with joy as he caught the meaning behind the Plutarkian's gaze.

"I have just what we need, your fragrant flatulentness!" The skinny scientist bounced to the hydraulic door, punching the button with a great grin. "I would like everyone to meet… the new… the improved…"

The door slid open, and the drugged Mouse felt a fresh surge of panic churn his stomach. His gorge rose, and the salty, fetid taste of bile filled his throat. The figure in the doorway… Karbunkle reached in, and drew the form from the lift.

"Rimfire!" Karbunkle's voice sent shivers down Carbine's spine.

&

"So, why do you hate us so?" Ricochet's question stopped Brock dead in his tracks. Over his shoulder, his glare lanced through the silence.

"Your kind..." he growled, facing away again. "Your kind took my wife from me. Murdered her in cold blood. Last year, when the Sears Tower finally fell."

He commended her silently; she managed to keep quiet. She had no false apologies; she had no saccharin phrases for his pain. He half-turned again, in order to see her reaction. The Martian face was so hard for him to read. Her eyes were thankfully closed, saving him from the weight of that weird violet gaze.

"How do y'know?" Ricochet whispered. "That it was in cold blood? How do y'know that they didn't regret it? They didn't cry?"

"Cry?" Brock scoffed, snorting in derision. "Your kind doesn't cry!"

The Mouse had the nerve to smile. "Next, ya'll be sayin' we don't bleed either." Brock scowled, his lip curling in a sneer. She pressed on, either ignorant, or stubborn. "We're victims, just as ya'll are. It's the Plutarkian's that y'should hate."

Brock opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself as a small hand curled around his. Zoë smiled up at her father, and she nodded. "Listen to her, Daddy. I told you they weren't all bad."

"How can you be so forgiving?" He twined his fingers through his daughter's hair. "They killed…"

"No, Daddy," she shrugged his hand off, shaking her head and stepping slightly away. "No Mouse killed Mom. The Plutarkian's did. They're the bad guys. They've done everything evil."

Brock growled softly, and turned his dark gaze back to the quiet Mouse in the other room. "What lies have you been feeding my daughter?"

"None," Ricochet answered with a slight shrug.

"Then…" Brock stuttered, stalling as he searched for a conclusion.

"I'm not just a little girl, anymore, Dad." Zoë began gently. "And I'm not dumb."

"But…"

"Dad." She had that tilt to her head, and suddenly, he noticed just how much like her mother she looked.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his bald head sheepishly. "I guess we need to talk, huh?"

"Yah, Dad, we do," Zoë turned slightly to smile at the Mouse. But Ricochet had lain down, pulling the single blanket up so far that only the crest of her ears, and her red antennae stuck out. The young girl laughed, and followed her father from the shallow, dirt-walled room.

In the quiet that pervaded as they left, Rico sighed happily. Less than four days had passed since she woke up with the humans, and she almost felt strong enough to venture outside the little room. Maybe tomorrow, she'd ask about her sister, and Rimmy.

&

Carbine watched the new Rimfire size up the team. She knew what it felt like to have a legend to live up to. Yet, she felt a flickering of remorse for the loss of the light from his eyes. No, that candle had to be snuffed quickly. Remorse was not an emotion she could allow herself to experience. So many things were better this way. Rimfire was finally back on the right team, so to speak. After all the Plutarkians were trying to save the Cave Mice from extinction.

"We're going to need more," Rimfire said, finally turning back to Carbine. He ruffled a hand through his orange streak. "Steel can take an entire squad herself, so make sure every team has a EMP charged and ready to go."

"We'll get Beta and Delta teams to back us up on this one. Hub and Axle have grudges with the humes to settle." Carbine suggested, nodding slightly. "Look, Rimfire, for all we know, Steel still thinks you're helping her. Find out where she is, and what she's doing. Halogen and I will worry about the firepower." Again, a flicker of remorse stirred in her heart. She knew he was too different now; Steel would instantly know something wasn't kosher. "We'll have the tracker keyed to your signal." Carbine silently thanked the mad doctor for installing the homing chips in each clone. Subconsciously, she rubbed her arm, as Rimfire touched his.

"Sounds like a plan," Rimfire grunted. "She's got to be on the grounds still. Steel wouldn't cut and run without gloating about it first."

Carbine didn't answer, she didn't like this new attitude. She only wished for the rebellious, awkward kid that had been her second in command. When Carbine opened her eyes, he was still there, brimming with confidence, and anger. She couldn't meet his eyes, as he smiled over at her.

&

Even if he was skinnier than his corpulent counterpart, Lawrence still couldn't squeeze his fat butt through the bulwarks. Ahead of him, Steel checked her watch for the fifth time. She figured they still had quite some time. Two hours before they discovered the body, and perhaps another two before someone figured out that the corpse wasn't who it was supposed to be. And yet his Lordship Lardass was wasting precious time that they could otherwise have used to hide!

"Get your ass in gear, Larry," she hissed as she retreated to help him. "We have a schedule to keep."

Lawrence reached out to her, unquestioning and entirely without complaint. His four-fingered hands curled into desperate hooks, hooks that snared Steel's hands. She set herself and Lawrence inhaled sharply. The Mouse rocked as he did, pulling with all her augmented might. The Plutarkian found himself freed like a cork from a bottle of champagne.

Steel never lost her footing, deftly sidestepping and allowing the Fish to tumble into a sprawling heap. His suit was sweat-stained, and he stank like a sun-ripened wharf. Steel wrinkled her nose; he'd smell better if he took a dip in the sludgy remains of Lake Michigan.

"Move," she ordered, pointing toward the light at the end of the access tunnel. Her face turned to a grimace as Lawrence staggered upright, making enough noise to wake the dead. She glanced down at the transponder on her waist. Happily, a green light blinked back at her. The humans had received the second half of the warp machine. Silently, she thanked Throttle for having the foresight to leave the sled with their new allies.

"Five minutes," she warned the puffing Plutarkian. The three Outriders would be meeting them at the end of the vent shaft. The portly piscine was having trouble making it up the long slope.

"If… I may…" he held one white-gloved hand up. "Have… just… just a moment?"

"No," Steel growled. "Either you move yourself, or I get behind you and push."

"I'm attem…pting… to am… ambu… I'm trying!" Lawrence gave an un-fishlike grunt of exertion. Steel advanced a few yards, and waited while the Plutarkian struggled. Under her arm, her helmet communicator squelched and crackled. With an irritated hiss, she dropped the apparatus over her head.

"Rimfire, this is an unsecured channel," she snapped, glaring at the kid's picture at the corner of her readouts. "This had better be good!"

" I'm just wondering where the hell you are! You know you're still under house arrest, right? " he looked genuinely perturbed with her. Had he forgotten everything they'd discussed last night?

"Rimfire, look," Steel tried her hardest not to let her eyes wander from the tiny image. "I'm in the middle of something very important right now. You should know that!"

For a moment, blank confusion flickered across Rimfire's young features. " Uh, yeah, sure, " he uttered, without a send off, no luck wished, nothing. The link simply died. Dumbfounded, Steel stared at the empty spot on her visor.

"Change of plans, Larry!" the black Mouse growled, stepping behind the Plutarkian. Bewildered, the Fish yelped as Steel levered her shoulder into his back. "Double time!" she ordered. Lawrence's shoes squealed as she began to push him up the incline.

Just as they had promised, the three Outriders were waiting when Steel popped the hatch. Throttle opened his mouth to ask what had panicked her, but he never got the chance. She shoved Lawrence at Modo, whose mouth curled in disgust. He did allow the Plutarkian to clamber onto the back of his ride.

"We've been compromised," Steel explained once Throttle got his question out. "At least, I think so. Rimfire just contacted me over an unsecure line."

"He knows better!" Modo scowled.

"Exactly." Steel pointed a finger towards him, and nodded. "We have to stick to the plan, though. He's been a space cadet before. So I can only hope…"

Steel revved her bike. The motor purred so quietly, it couldn't be heard over the other three bikes. Vinnie smiled broadly at the sniper, as she looked over to him. She returned the grin, unable to resist his open honesty.

"Let's get a move on," Throttle's voice was tinny through the helmet's speakers. "The sooner Fish-lips gets to work, the sooner we get to go home." Throttle took the lead, walking his bike a few steps forward. "Alright, bros… and lady… Let's Rock, and Ride!"

Jack rummaged through the pile of wires and dials and circuit boards. "So you're supposed to tell me how all of this, fits into that, eh?"

With his eyes, he gestured to the massive construct of steel and titanium. The main bulk of the apparatus was made of two giant Tesla coils, flanking a steel oval frame large enough for three people abreast. The smaller console off to the right was hollow, the top folded back to expose the rear of the panels. A small stand in the center was presumably for a power source, which still didn't appear to be with the rest of the innards.

Crouched across from him, the Plutarkian was untangling a silver filament from the wires. He nodded silently, not breaking the intense concentration he forced himself to keep. Overhead, a soft rumble of thunder caused everyone to glance up.

"Will this roof hold?" Brock asked nervously. The old concrete walls and ceiling had more holes in it than he could count.

Charley shifted her seat on the tank-treads slightly, refusing to answer as she watched Steel approach. In the half-light shed by the headlamps of the gathered motorcycles, the Mouse's eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of her face. Charley released a breath she hadn't been aware of holding, as Steel attempted to smile.

"Larry says they'll have it running by dawn, so long as they can find a suitable generator," Steel explained, ignoring Brock as she leaned against the treads. "He and your boyo there have some serious jargon going on."

"Yeah," Charley found her attempt at small talk, annoying to say the least. "My husband is like a kid when it comes to electronics."

Brock cleared his throat, and shifted slightly. "So what of my sister? Is she fit enough to make the jump with me?" Steel seemed to ignore the big black man more, as he tried to make his presence felt.

Charley shrugged. "I'll have to call Danny. This morning she was more talkative than I've ever heard a Mouse. In any case, someone will have to go get her, because I'm not broadcasting these coordinates over any radio frequency, secure or otherwise."

"Understandable, I'll go get ready to ride," Steel nodded and pivoted on her heel. Three steps and she paused, glancing back. "Thank you."

Charley glanced at Brock, and gave a small surprised laugh. When she looked back up to welcome the stoic Mouse, Steel had already disappeared.

As Steel approached the bikes, Throttle intercepted her. "I don't think you should go." He began, wrapping his hand around her bicep. She flexed, expanding the muscle until it was a chore to hold onto her.

"And why not?" she demanded.

"Because you're supposed to be on house arrest," Modo chimed in. "And everyone knows it. If any other patrol sees you out here, you're gonna get nabbed."

She growled. "I can't be caught." Those blue eyes were like icicles as she glared around at the three Mice.

"Maybe you can't," Throttle conceded. "But you can compromise the rest of us. And we just can't let that happen."

"So you'd better let a professional escort take care of her!" Vinnie butted in, all smiles and glamour. "Like… moi."

Steel was obviously not impressed. But Throttle nodded. "That's a good idea. Keep you occupied; and it's a good cover."

"Joyride king," Modo chuckled, clamping a hand down on Vinnie's shoulder. "Just let him go, Steel. It was his idea to get Rico out of the complex."

Vinnie beamed again. Steel's shoulders slumped, and Vinnie took that as a sign of defeat. He leapt upon his racing bike, and kicked the engine over in one motion. The guttural roar of the bike drown out his whoop of joy as he sped off into the deepening night.

The buildings crawled around the mall. Rimfire slowly swiveled his position, watching the red bike speed away down the road. He grinned and peered back at the infrared scans. He knew where every one of those measly turncoats was sitting, chatting like nothing was going on around them. The speaker by his ear whispered updates on positioning. Soon enough, they would have the entire mall surrounded, and they'd be able to strike. What a blow this would be. They'd have to see they were on the wrong side. They would have to know.

They really let him go! Vinnie couldn't believe his luck. Charley trusted him enough to go alone to her home, and Steel trusted him enough to let him pick up her sister! Well, not that Steel really had any ability to argue about it. The Last Chance came up fast; he was a red blur through the streets, jumping the holes, instead of cruising around them. His tires squealed as he jammed on the breaks, skidding the last few feet to a stop just in front of the giant bay doors.

The guns all swiveled to meet him, as he jumped off the bike. Holding up both hands, he waited until the weapons powered down, and then he sprinted for the side door. Two of the humans were there to meet him. Brock's daughter, and the surgeon. The girl was bold, and grabbed Vinnie's arm, to drag him inside.

"Rico! Rico! Your escort's here!" she called into the garage.

"Already?"

Vinnie could only grin as she rose slowly from beside her bike. Silvery, slender and smiling, she seemed like such a different Mouse now. That smile was to die for, Vinnie decided as she approached him. The overalls she wore were slightly too large for her, and the tee-shirt beneath them fit her like a sack as well. She wiped her hand off on her pants before she offered it to him.

"You're Vincent?" She shook his hand lightly. "I guess I get t'thank you for savin' my life. Y'were the only one to listen."

Vinnie blushed, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Aww, it wasn't like …" He trailed off as Danny tapped his arm for attention. The human handed him a small canteen.

"It's water," the surgeon explained. "Above all things, she needs to stay hydrated, and keep flushing her system of the poisons. If she gets tired, let her rest. And make sure her sister knows this."

Vinnie nodded, and slung the canteen over his shoulder. Ricochet was kneeling down with the girl, hugging the child tightly.

"Now, Zoë, make sure y'pa remembers how t'smile," Rico reminded her. "I'll be sure t'find y'when I figger out that last cradle."

"You'd better!" Zoë responded, beeping Rico's nose lightly. "It's hard!"

"I know, I know, that's why I need t'practice." Rico left the girl then, walking over to her idling chopper. Vinnie whistled softly, as Rico swung astride it easily. She turned her violet eyes on Vinnie as she settled into her helmet. "Let's go. I wanna see m'sissy."

The garage bay doors swung ponderously open. And Vinnie sprinted to his bike. He waved at the two humans behind them, while Rico rolled up beside him. The iridescent shine of her gas tank glittered even in the murky twilight. Vinnie pulled out first, and glanced back. The bike wobbled slightly, before it seemed to correct itself. Atop it, Rico shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. Vinnie slowed down, figuring it best if he stayed close.

Rimfire scanned the mall again. Just what the hell were the humans doing? Crawling under the huge tank, and tinkering with it; perhaps the giant metal monstrosity was broken. Delta squad still wasn't in position, considering their posts were closest to the tank and its deadly turrets. Rimfire scowled, as the sound of motorcycles began to get louder. He ducked beneath his cover again, swiveling to peer around the shattered concrete. Switching his binoculars from infrared to night-vision, he peered at the oncoming vehicles.

In the lead was Vinnie on his red racing bike, weaving slowly through the pot- and sink-holes in the road. A few feet behind him, rolled a chopper. Rimfire blinked, removed the binoculars, and rubbed his eyes. No. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. He lifted the magnifiers again, adjusting them one last time for normal vision. The choppers chrome gleamed in the twilight, the gas tank glittered. Rimfire's heart expanded until it felt like it was going to break.

"Ricochet…" he whispered softly. With his heart thundering in his ears, he watched as Rico pulled into the mall, moments behind Vinnie. He shook his head, trying to clear the muddy waters of confusion. "Rico, you're… alive?"

" Rimfire? " The voice that crackled softly over the speaker was Axle, Delta squad's commander. " We're nearly in position. "

Rimfire sighed, and dropped the binoculars to his lap. From his seat, he could see Carbine watching him, but she looked away whenever he glanced in her direction. "Good. Can you see what the humans are doing from your angle?"

" Right now? " Axle fell silent, his deep, rough voice creating a void of sound in its absence. " Yah. They've got the engine block out of the tank, and they're hooking into some wacky, phallic thingy. "

" Wacky, phallic thingy. How… scientific. " the second voice belonged to Axle's lieutenant, Cam. She snorted softly. " What matters, chief, is that there's some serious sparks going on. Whatever that thing is, I think it's working. "

"Damn." Rimfire almost raised his voice, but caught himself just in time. Biting his tongue, he scanned the area again with his infrared binoculars. Down below, everyone was hugging. Or at least, surrounding those who were hugging. Iron bands tightened around Rimfire's heart as he watched. Why could they get to hug Ricochet? Why wasn't he included in this? Why had he been told that she was dead?

Steel was smiling, a broad fearless expression that loosened her up. Ricochet had broken down into sobs when her big sister greeted her. And even Modo had to wipe a tear from his eye as their reunion lingered on. When the sisters finally parted, Vinnie handed Ricochet her canteen, which the young Mouse instantly drank from. As introductions, and other pleasantries passed around, Rico seemed to be looking for someone in particular.

"Sissy?" she finally asked, as everyone dispersed. "Where's Rimfire?"

Apologetically, Steel shrugged. "We're not… totally positive, but I think Limburger got to him." The black Mouse concentrated on affixing her rifle to the side of her bike, only so she wouldn't have to exchange glances with Ricochet. She knew the younger's face would be tense, as she was trying to make sense of it all. Finally, Rico knelt down beside Sparkle, and began to recheck her ammo levels.

"So… I won't get to see Rimfire, before we go through?" The question was so innocent, Steel felt as though her heart would break. For a moment, Rico's face was illuminated by a bright spark from the Tesla coils. Larry gave a soft whoop of triumph, as a second writhing spark traveled up the length.

"We're getting there!" Jack grinned, wiping his hands off on his vest. "Just a few more minutes to build up some power." He reached over to the unhoused tank-engine, and slipped it up another gear. The thick, grinding rumble drowned out all other sounds, making conversation impossible.

Steel motioned to her sister, and together they wheeled their bikes into position before the empty ring. Rico glanced back, as she patted Sparkle's tank. The motorcycle purred, and rolled back and forth a few times. Steel's bike, picking up on the anxiety in the air, mimicked the action.

Suddenly, Rico was turned around by a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she caught her reflection in the gleaming plate mask, and couldn't help but giggle. Her antennae tingled as Vinnie leaned down close to her ear. With both hands on her shoulders, he pulled her closer.

"I don't know what's gonna happen, sweetheart," rang his voice, quick and shaking. "But never lose that beautiful smile." Quickly, he kissed her cheek, and backed off. As the white Mouse turned away, Rico swore she caught him blushing. Her own ears flushed warmly, and she glanced around to see who had watched their exchange.

Steel was only shaking her head.

"GO! GO!" Rimfire shouted the command as the thunder of the tanks engine would drown out the sounds of their approach. "Stop them!"

The teams hit their lights, flooding the mall with a brilliant fluorescent haze. And with a rousing cry, thirty Mice swarmed over the small camp.

"Shit!" Steel swore soundly, spinning and reaching for her gun.

"NO!" Larry jumped before them. "Just give it a little more time… PLEASE?" His eyes were wild, white-rimmed with fear. "Let the humans fight! Let them buy you some time?"

Steel growled, but ducked behind her motorcycle. Both bikes swiveled around, to train their guns on the attackers. The humans were already engaging, the steady whine of the rail gun Brock wielded cutting through the deeper rumble. The three Outriders too, had leapt into action. Too far from their bikes to make it in time, they pulled pistols and rushed into the fray. Modo remained near the females, towering over everything, his eye blazing an angry red.

Larry dove for the controls, seeking to protect his precious investment with his body. The Plutarkian jerked as bullets began to riddle his body, but with one last burst of strength, he punched a final button. Steel sunk to her hands and knees as a wave of nausea swept through her. The electricity behind them had reached a fever pitch, screaming and crackling as it whirled around the metal framework. She struggled back to a crouch, sliding backward as her bike slowly rolled in retreat.

"RIMFIRE!" Ricochet's voice broke out in a tremendous cry. She stretched her hand beyond the safety of her bike, and withdrew it in a jerk when a bullet bounced too near. "Rimfire, don't! Stop!" She was focused on the male in the back, gesturing to everyone, directing the flow of battle. Ice gripped her stomach as she saw a familiar shape brought up next to him.

"Oh, shit," Steel saw it too. "The portal's almost open, Rico. We've got to go."

"That… that's…" the silvery Mouse was shaking, pointing. Sparkle rolled back a few more inches, forcing Rico closer to the portal.

"An EMP…" Steel glanced around. Charley and Jack had taken refuge behind the tank, and were now peppering the advancing line of Mice with small arms fire. Brock lay in a heap by the tank tread, his hands still wrapped around the smoking rail gun, his face contorted in rage. The Outriders were forced into retreating, drawing closer to the portal.

Suddenly, both Steel's motorcycle, and Sparkle turned and fled, revving engines and speeding through the portal. It was like they had slipped into a pool of water, with no splash, and no sound. Rico's eyes were huge, as she glanced at her sister. Steel grabbed her arm, and gave her a tug. "We go, now!" was the sharp order. Rico half-rose from her crouch, while Steel dove through the ring.

The younger Mouse turned and glanced back, one last time. The EMP generator was nearing critical mass, glowing vibrant blue. Rimfire had focused his eyes on her; even through the carbide smoke, and haze, she was burned by the hatred in his gaze. Suddenly, the EMP began to grow, the blue amorphous blob sliding over everything. White fur blocked her view after that.

Vinnie scooped Ricochet up into the crook of his arm. "You've got to go!" he shouted at her over the sounds of battle. "Fix this! Please?"

He pushed her toward the portal, just as the EMP was reaching the edge of the battleground. As it passed over cyberbikes, the motorcycles underwent a total shutdown sequence, flood lights blinked off as the blue glow touched them. Vinnie raised his pistol as he held Rico back with one arm. Following his line of sight, Rico screamed. She lunged for his firearm, but he was faster with the trigger.

"RIMFIRE!"

Vinnie shoved, literally throwing Ricochet through the portal.

Her last sight, before the waters of Time closed over her head, was the sight of Rimfire's figure collapsing slowly to the ground, like a broken puppet.