Chapter 2

First Test

Two weeks later

"I'm going to sign up for the Mutant Army Integration Programme, Raph." said Mikey when he saw his brother for the first time in almost a week. Raphael hadn't been spending much time in the Lair, preferring to wander further and further afield in his search for…something.. Raphael looked up and nodded.

"Yeah, I spotted that one too."

"Ya want to join up too?" asked Mikey, interested. For a second he saw something like interest in his brothers eyes before Raph glanced away again.

"Naah, all that authority and crap. Not my scene just yet. I want a bit of freedom."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Mikey.

"Travel." was the succinct answer. "I wanna see a bit of the world. There's more of us, Mikey. We're not as alone as we thought." Mikey nodded. Somehow he'd known that was what Raph's answer would be.

"When…?" he asked quietly.

"I'll stay until ya join up. But I want to leave soon." he replied. Actually he wanted to leave NOW. But he couldn't leave the kid by himself now. He felt angry enough at his other two brothers for deserting the two of them like that. They talked to them often enough- well, Mikey did. Raph was still mad enough that he usually managed to be out when they called.

"Thanks Raph. I'm joining up tomorrow. If I do that, I'll be out of here by Friday." Raph nodded and paused as he tried to get the words to line up properly.

"Do…dya think you can handle this thing?" he asked suddenly. Mikey looked surprised and a bit hurt.

"That's not what I meant- ya oughta be able to handle the physical part, yeah. No, I mean- it's gonna be tough, let me tell ya that. The Army…mindset. They don't even like other humans in there. Only started lettin' black people in, what fifty years ago- properly in, I mean. And women- half their damn race, mind you, what, twenty years? How dya think they're gonna deal with a bunch of freaks?" It was easily the longest thing he'd said- and the least snarky- in almost four months.

Mikey nodded, seriously. "Yeah, I thought of that. And you're right. But this could be one of the most important leaps for mutants livin' with humans, dude. If the Army accepts us…"

"If the Army accepts ya…"

The Army did accept him-on paper at least. He'd completed a couple of pre-basic training days and was at the training camp. He hadn't brought much- his nunchucks and shell-cell of course. His human-clothes and his sketchpad and pencils. That was precious at the moment- when he'd found out that Don was leaving and realised that the break-up of their family was inevitable, he'd spent much of his time drawing anything and everything. Leo practising with Master Splinter in the dojo. Don engrossed in an experiment- that had been tricky! It was hard to concentrate on a sketch when you were worried the subject might blow something up at any second! Raph, uh, threatening him. Raph gave up after Splinter had told him privately just to let his brother draw. He'd drawn the four of them at the table one night- even forsaking his own dinner for that one. He'd kinda lost his appetite anyway for a day or two when he first faced the prospect of being alone. They all would be. Although Leo at least would have Sensei and Don would be so lost in his studies that perhaps homesickness wouldn't affect him as much. It was Raph he was worried about. But his older brother would take care of himself.

He stood in front of the large, flat building, grey and baking in the heat. The road was dusty and he could see a guard perspiring in his booth. The man wandered over and his eyes widened as he took in the fact that a large green turtle was standing there, asking was this the Base. But he'd been warned about this. And this guy seemed friendly enough. Not like he'd really expected a…well, a mutant, to be.

"Yes it is. Got your card?" he asked. Michelangelo handed over his ID, which he had sandwiched into his sketchpad. Private Ron Seville checked it over.

"You're the first. Go on through." He paused. This was history in the making, this was. A real live mutant joining the Army. He felt like he should say something. He cleared his throat slightly and the turtle turned around.

"Um…Good luck. You'll need it." He suddenly felt sorry for this newbie. His card said he was seventeen. He wondered if this guy was going to be able to take it. It would be worse for him and the other mutants. The turtle- Michelangelo, apparently, flashed him a surprising grin.

"Thanks dude." And he was gone. Ron walked slowly back to the booth. He realised he was rooting for the guy.

Michelangelo entered the messhall and the room suddenly fell silent. If he'd had hairs on the back of his neck they would have been raised as the tension filled the air. He controlled his immediate reaction and forced himself to smile cheerfully at the silent crowd.

"Hi guys!" No one answered. Someone sniggered and suddenly everyone was talking loudly again. Too loudly really. He walked over to the counter.

"We don't serve animals," said the man behind the counter folding his arms. The room fell silent again.

First test was it?

"Don't see any.," he said unconcernedly. "But if you're on strike, I'll serve myself." He used the tongs that the man had put down beside him with a clatter and put food on his plate. He wondered briefly what Raph would have done and pictured the carnage that might easily have occurred had someone been that rude to his older brother. He couldn't help but smile a bit as he turned to find a table. Most people were looking at him in interest. That was a novel way to handle the surly counter-man. Two men stood up and blocked the path to the table that Mikey had been aiming for. The leader, a big man with a crewcut, spoke first, with sarcastic politeness.

"If you don't mind, there are people here, try'n to eat. Why don't you and the other freaks find somewhere else. Like outside where ya belong." Mikey frowned inwardly. Damn. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to get involved in a messy confrontation just yet. Then the frown reached his face as he realised something.

"West Brooklyn, is it?" he tried to place the exact accent with that funny little burr that spoke of somewhere else. Then it clicked into place. He matched the other man's sarcastic politeness.

"Remember about a year ago. An alleyway near one of the old complexes." he said conversationally. The man had frozen in place and paled slightly. There wasn't a noise in the room.

"You and another guy had grabbed someone off the street. Teenager. And it wasn't only a mugging, was it? Two of you against one of her." He let scorn and disgust enter his voice. "Remember me and my brother?" He leaned forward so he was looking the man right in the face. "How's the arm by the way?"

Mikey pushed past the confused man who was absolutely positive that that wasn't how that should have gone. The man looked to his table for support, but they looked back with a mixture of scorn and distaste. He'd given himself away and even any potential cronies had lost interest in him after seeing him beaten like that in front of everyone.

Mikey sat by himself at a table. He'd won some neutrals from the hostiles and mild interest from those who hadn't been against him from the start. The mood had lightened, or if, rather then lightening, the new recruits had found someone else to vent distaste at. Oh, there were still plenty that wouldn't hesitate to take him out but at least not everyone would actively go after him now.

He realised his insides were churning and his appetite was almost non-existent again. Damn, that wasn't good. How could some of them hate him so much just 'cos what? He was green. Big freakin' deal. Okay, the shell and the whole…turtle aspect wasn't helping much but….Age of tolerance, my green ass, he thought to himself. He missed his brothers and his Sensei, to whom he looked as a father. Missed them and home so much that it hurt. Hell, at this point he'd be happy to see Shredder or Bebop. Something to remind him that there was another world out there. That he hadn't just dreamed his whole life until now…

"Hey, this seat taken?" asked someone. It was a man, two men actually. One was a small red-haired wiry chap who introduced himself as Paddy Malone. The other was a largish black man, who walked confidently. Not arrogant exactly, but confident. Mikey looked at the latter with slight unease. If he were to get challenged again, this man would be way harder to take down. But his fears were dispelled when the big man held out a hand.

"George Henry." he introduced himself.

"Michelangelo- Mikey." he replied, shaking hands with both men. He didn't feel threatened by either. These two were okay, his gut instinct told him.

"So how many green jokes have you gotten so far?" asked the smaller man, tucking into his plate hungrily.

"How many Paddy jokes have you had to put up with?" he replied wryly. The larger man laughed and nudged Paddy, who nearly fell into his food.

"He's got ya there, Malone." Malone grinned ruefully.

"Guess I asked for that one." he said. "Course, with the Irish jokes, well it would help if I wasn't …you know" he waved at himself. "Red hair, Cork accent, you know, the works. Had one guy ask me if we had electric lighting at home yet. I'm almost sure he was joking though." Mikey grinned, his own good nature reasserting itself.

Paddy leaned forward. "Look mate, Wanna help ya. Cos believe me- ye'er gonna need it." George joined in.

"They're not all against you. Some of them have already fallen foul of that fool, Jackby- you gained a couple of potential friends with that particular display."

"Including us." managed Malone around a mouthful of potato.

"Yeah- this guy was getting a bit fed up with that asshole. Anyway. You gained as many enemies I'd say too. People who don't like that piece of work but don't think a…a, something they see as lower then themselves, should be able to push one of their own around." Mikey tried to digest this bit of information.

"They'd take the side of that…that…"

"Piece of undigested horseshit" put in Malone again.

"…despite what he did, over a stranger because…."

"It's not the stranger bit, it's…well you're stranger then anything they'd normally see, mate." Michelangelo nodded. "Yeah, got that right."

He paused.

"Are you…um… mutants as well?" he asked, wondering why these guys were putting themselves out for an unpopular mutant.

"Naah, plain common- or- garden human," replied George, not in the least offended. He paused too and glanced at the ginger-headed young man hoovering up his lunch. "At least, I am. Not sure about this guy." Malone paused long enough to flip a birdie at the larger man before continuing. Mikey snorted quietly with laughter. He still didn't want to attract too much attention.

"So, well, the groups and alliances haven't really formed yet. There's that lot." He flicked his hand so the thumb pointed unobtrusively at one of the rowdier bunches. "Watch out for them. They're the ones that'll go for you. Bullies, a lot of them. Don't let 'em get ya. Then there's the idealists. Split bunch. Kids mainly. Some of them are okay. Some again, you'll have to watch out for. The Techs are floating around here and there. Fair bunch of women in there. More then in most other groups. Not been that long since they went through the same shit, so you might have some allies in the tech groups. Women've proved their worth, many in tech. so they're all a bit more open minded. Um…"

"The further education's." Malone swallowed the last of his food and spoke. "Quieter ones, often. They're probably reasonably safe. But you'll have enemies in every group. And the brass. Most of 'em don't like the idea of taking 'freaks'- quote there by the way." he added, hands up, as George glared at him and Mikey's eyes narrowed. "Stick with the other…eh…"

"Mutents. You can say the word. That's not the offensive one." Mikey helped the garrulous man out. Malone waved his fork in an attempt to get the indescribable across but nodded at the help.

"..other mutants. Don't be too standoffish with the rest. Or too...ah, I dunno. They'll probably forget that you're different eventually."

Mikey didn't need to look around to feel the unfriendly eyes still on him.

"Yeah, hope so." he muttered.

It was the first night in the barracks. His bunk was a bit separate from the rest- in the corner. Most people, seeing where he'd gone had congregated at the other side of the room. He didn't let it show that it bothered him in the slightest but he couldn't help wishing his only allies in this place, Malone and Henry, were in this barracks. But no such luck there. It was later when the new arrival came into the recruits bunkhouse. A man of indefinable age- blond and tall. The sort that probably wouldn't have any trouble finding girls, but reserved with it. He recognised the stance and the way of walking- someone who wasn't sure of his reception but trying to cover it. He recognised it from himself earlier. The snores echoed off the roof, but after fifteen years sharing a room with Raph and then two more years in which everyone's snores had echoed around equally, it didn't bother Mikey. A few patches of silence, showed up the younger ones who were having trouble adjusting and lay awake. The blond man glanced- at his hands, it looked like- hard to tell in the blackness, and seemed to regain some self-confidence. He walked to the end of the room where there were still beds. Mikey watched him, wondering if this was a mutant or 'normal' His question was answered when the man brushed off something and his skin seemed to glow and crackle. The man swore in a low voice and the light went out.

"What are you?" came out of the darkness, not entirely unfriendly, but curious.

"Mutant." someone else answered. This voice was unfriendly. Mikey wondered how this man would take the 'first test'. He didn't reply but just shrugged and addressed his first words to Mikey.

"This bunk taken?"

Mikey grinned.

"Welcome to the freak corner." he replied as the man swung his bag onto the top bunk before pulling himself up.

The next morning was Orientation and introductions to the officers and others. Mikey and the man, who introduced himself as just 'Electrode', were standing more or less together. He noticed Henry standing two men down but didn't see the hungry Irishman around. As for Electrode, if he had a different name, he wasn't telling. Mikey didn't push him. He could se why you might want to keep your own council if everyone was like this. Three more mutants had appeared- Mikey was getting quite good at recognising them. Something about the way they stood, defiant but still expecting trouble. One was easily as big as Electrode and Henry, brown haired and taciturn. He wondered what made this guy different. Another was a quiet woman with white-blonde hair, who'd already received wolf-whistles and smart comments. She didn't seem to notice them and they'd become a bit discouraged. The original Ice-Queen someone had muttered spitefully at the Mess earlier. Actually, he wasn't altogether sure about this one. She was so calm and self- contained that it was hard to tell. The last one was definitely a mutant, and had ended up directly in front of him. Her uniform seemed to be giving her trouble. This might have had something to do with the large wings that were folded tightly against her back. Her hair was black and French-plaited tightly. She seemed to be the subject of as much morbid fascination as Mikey only with less of the fear that some people were having trouble masking.

The officer in charge was identified as Master-Sergeant Fields and looked exactly like the archetypal trainer of new recruits as seen in the movies. All that was missing was the cigar. He completely ignored the mutants, but shouted at everyone equally. By the end of the session Mikey was sure that everyone would be treating this guy with respect. They were ordered to run laps of the huge Quad until they were told to stop. So that was the first bit of training. Mikey didn't have much trouble here, easily keeping up with those in front, including Henry and the obnoxious Jackby, who scowled at him with an interesting mix of hate, disgust and fear. Mikey ignored him and worked on controlling his breathing. Henry was running on the other side of Jackby and gave him a grin and rolled his eyes at the fuming runner in the middle which made Mikey feel better about it. At least some people saw the arrogant little prat for what he was.

"What the hell they're doin' letting freaks and animals in here with real people I don't bleedin' know." Jackby hissed at the Turtle, who could feel so many smartass replies to this coming that he didn't know where to start.

"Add it to that long list of things you don't know" was the first one to come to mind. Jackby turned even redder.

"You really want to challenge me? Fine- lets see how fast you can run." Jackby speeded up. Mikey knew that he shouldn't let himself be goaded like this but…oh, the temptation to take down this git was overwhelming. Henry had a grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Wanna show him what you're made of?" he asked him. Mikey nodded his head once and sped up. At least he'd have one guy on his side.

A few more people sped up- Electrode was fast and several 'normal' humans were racing as well, The leading group was made up of five men- Jackby, Mikey, Henry, Roberts and Electrode and three women that Mikey wouldn't have recognised even if he'd noticed them, concentrating on catching up on Jackby. Man, that dude was fast. But he'd been training as a ninja under Master Splinter for eleven of his seventeen years as well as being naturally athletic. The two of them stretched their lead, sometimes Jackby in front but more often Mikey. They were out of sight of the trainer and had a good lead on the rest of the runners when Jackby struck, slamming into Mikey's side and trying to trip him before recovering and continuing. Mikey hadn't been expecting this cheap shot and took longer to recover then he should have. At least he hadn't fallen over, which was what the slime had been aiming for but he staggered a couple of steps, and Jackby was pulling away. Mikey recovered and started grimly to catch up- seeing what they were using as a finishing line coming closer. Jackby wasted a confident second, glancing over his shoulder, obviously sure he could win now. Mikey gathered himself as he ran and just as Jackby turned back again, he leaped, catching Jackby by surprise as he landed almost beside him.

"What the hell!" demanded the other man. That was his fatal error. Talking while running slows you down and now Mikey started pulling away again in the front. They raced toward the line, Mikey maybe a head in front as they approached. He became distantly aware of cheering from up ahead and from behind where the other runners had pretty much given up on any hope of winning.

"Move it, Jackby- Ya gonna let a freak beat you?" was the gist of several peoples shouting. But others were saying things like

"Go on, the Turtle!" "Go green!" and "Beat him!" (which could be for either side).

He crossed the line maybe two paces ahead of the furious human and they both slowed and stopped, breathing heavily. Master Sergeant Fields marched up with a stopwatch.

"Two minutes fifty and two minutes fifty-one. Fastest mile we've ever had here." He snapped the stopwatch closed.

"Why have you stopped! You've got another nine laps to go! And an extra one for pausing." Mikey and Jackby glanced at each other with something almost like solidarity in the face of the shit they were both in before both faces turned away and they started running again.

By the fifth mile, Mikey wasn't doing too well. The first race hadn't done him any favours at all and he was now somewhere around the middle-front of the pack. Jackby was jogging on grimly in the rear. Mikey was having trouble controlling his breathing. The heat and the dust made his mouth feel like sandpaper and- dammit- turtles just weren't built for this. If anything, he was a speed runner, not a distance runner!

"Well run." said someone behind him, distracting him momentarily from his unhappy lungs and legs. Pulling up beside him was the woman with the wings. Only she'd seemed to have winched them in somehow and there was only a lump visible through a cut in the back of the jacket- there for that purpose. He spared her a nod of gratitude for the support but was having trouble speaking. He slowed a bit so he could speak- the whole group were now running at a moderate jog rather then a fast one.

"Probab..ly wasn't the cleverest thing to do- didn't know there would be anoth…er ten laps on top of it." he managed. She laughed- a sort of chuckling release of breath and he smiled as well.

"Well, you beat whathisface anyway- gotta be worth something." she answered. He glanced back to where Jackby was struggling along gamely in the rear. Mikey couldn't feel too sorry for him.

Suddenly the Master Sergeant was beside him, leaving Mikey wondering just how the hell he'd done that.

"Angelo! Rhodes! Ten, now! Then finish the laps!" Mikey looked confused but the woman dropped to the ground and started doing push-ups. Mikey followed suit. These, at least, he could do. Jackby passed him, looking smug.

"Go!" They ran again and this time concentrated on running rather then communicating. He felt his second- possibly third wind coming on and he found his pace picking up. Due to the stop they were now lagging behind everybody, even Jackby and they pushed their bodies grimly to catch up. By lap seven they'd all slowed down and Mikey and the woman- Siren Rhodes, were well up the pack again and Mikey found he was almost enjoying the challenge. Not everyone felt like this obviously. One or two had trailed to a walk and if they straggled were caught for push-ups and made to continue. One thing that at least they had was water, which they were making use of. Mikey wished it was cold but knew that cold water would make you sick, no matter how good it would taste.

Finally, thank-God, they trailed to a stop after ten mile-long laps

"Angelo, Jackby. What have you stopped for!" Fields shouted. "You have another lap yet- move! Move! Move!" They moved wearily, going for the eleventh lap. Fields roared through a loudspeaker affair as they put distance between themselves and him.

"My granny could do better then that! And she's been dead twenty years!"

"Where the hell do they find these guys?" gasped Mikey, forgetting for a second who he was speaking to. "He's right out of a movie." He stopped as he realised who it was beside him. Jackby spared him a glance but to Mikey's great surprise there seemed to be a twitch at one corner of his mouth. Neither one said anything and they ran on.

As they neared the last quarter, where Jackby had tripped him last time, they put some distance between themselves and Jackby concentrated on the ground ahead. He seemed embarrassed. Mikey didn't make any comment and as they neared the finishing line, a certain grudging respect had laid its foundations between the two.

"Well run. Cool down slowly with the rest." was all the Sergeant said when they got in on wobbly legs, Mikey swearing to himself that he would never again be goaded into a three-minute mile race followed by a ten-mile marathon, again. Give him a battle followed by a run or vice versa, grand, but that had been horrific. They cooled down, shaking out and massaging limbs for a few minutes so they would neither cramp up nor freeze as the muscles contracted again.

"Good race." muttered Jackby to Mikey out of the blue. Mikey looked up in surprise but the other man was gone. Mikey shrugged and followed him out to the others.

Next chapter on its way soon. And yes, I do have a friend who got the comment about do we have electric lighting. Mind you I think she said no so that may not have helped matters:)

Cya soon with chapter three...