Vinnie awoke to a bright light shining in his face.

Muttering in protest, he tried to turn over to find Carbine. It was then he realised he was strapped down to the surface he was lying on – a cold, metallic surface.

Fully awake, he opened his eyes and checked out the room. Science lab was the first thing that came to mind. There was equipment everywhere, machines that he couldn't begin to understand the need for.

Turning his head to the right, he saw Carbine beside him, as strapped down as he was. And something was wrong with her tail. It seemed – shiny?

Past Carbine, he could see the prone form of Throttle. And someone he'd never seen before, messing around with Throttle's face.

"Hey!" he shouted, not liking where his thoughts were taking him. "Leave him alone!"

"I was merely replacing his eye," said the doctor, advancing on Vinnie. "You're awake! This is marvellous!"

Vinnie scowled. "Why?"

"To become a member of my cyborg army, I need to insert this chip." The doctor showed him a piece of computer hardware, no bigger than a stamp. "And I can't do it while you're unconscious – it needs to know when you're awake. Congratulations, you're the first volunteer."

"Volunteer?" Vinnie sneered. "I'm not volunteering!"

"This is – mandatory." The doctor pulled his stretcher, which seemed to be on wheels, away from the others. "My name is Doctor Karbunkle. And you shall never forget it, since I am to be your new master!"

"I don't call anyone master!" yelled Vinnie, struggling to get out of his bonds. "Well, maybe Carbine and only on her birthday… let me go!"

Karbunkle produced a scalpel and Vinnie grew very still. "Don't worry," said Karbunkle gleefully. "I just want to cut you open and add something to your brain!"

He wouldn't cut my face thought Vinnie desperately as the scalpel hovered near his nose. He can't – he wouldn't…

The scalpel bit in beside his right eyebrow, digging deep, biting through muscles and nerves, releasing blood.

Vinnie screamed.

&&&&&&&&&&

Carbine awoke to the sounds of Vinnie screaming.

She was immediately alert, realising they were prisoners, that something terrible was happening.

"NO!" she shrieked, struggling against her bonds. "VINNIE!"

Her only answer was more screams.

She raised her head and saw Vinnie on a table ahead of her, a doctor slicing into his face. But the doctor was – grinning?

And there was blood. Spattering Vinnie's white fur and the doctors formerly pristine labcoat, there was blood. Vinnie's blood.

"VINNIE!"

"Carbine…" His response was so quiet, she thought she might have imagined it. Then he started to scream again as the doctor pressed the scalpel further into his face, having got to his cheek.

"Shut up! I need to concentrate!" The doctor gave her a malevolent grin. "Unless you want me to put this through his brain…"

Carbine stopped talking, her mouth becoming a thin line. And Vinnie continued to scream.

"Hey!"

She recognised Throttle's voice from beside her and turned her head as far as she could. "Throttle – shush!"

The screaming continued.

"He's hurting Vinnie!" Throttle thrashed against his restraints. "We have to stop him!"

"I know!" Carbine felt the tears escaping her eyes. "I know… but I can't get free, you can't get free and Vinnie is…" She tried to hold back her tears, but Vinnie's screams of agony made it impossible.

"What's he doing to him?" asked Throttle. "I can't see – it's all a blur…"

"As far as I can see, cutting off his face," said Carbine tearfully.

"Hisface?" Throttle strained up as much as he could do. "Hey, doctor! Come over here and leave Vinnie alone!"

Karbunkle smirked. "I'll be seeing to you too – after the lady of course."

"No…." Vinnie managed to choke out. His face was a mess. The right half had been almost totally removed, blood running over the remainder and onto his torso. "You don't touch… her."

Karbunkle smirked. "Are you really in a position to make demands?"

And then he started cutting again.

&&&&&&&&&

Stoker stared at Stilton's castle through his binoculars. "This is gonna be one tough fish to scale."

He was distracted by the sound of falling rocks. "What the hell…?"

"Can't be the kids," said Harley. "It'd take them at least a day to get here, no matter how fast they rode!"

As if to call her a liar, a mouse ran into the clearing, barrelling headlong into Stoker. Harley gasped. "Rimfire?"

"I told you to let us handle this!" said Stoker, annoyed.

"You've been sold out, one of your troops is trading info with the Sand Raiders."

"We know." Harley gave him a rueful glance. "How did you get here so fast? Where are Primer and Chopper?"

Rimfire had the grace to look abashed. "Um, we were kinda in the neighbourhood. Choppy and Primer are … around."

"Find them! We're gonna need them." Harley smiled over at Stoker. "We can't do it alone and the kids are here – they're good too."

Stoker threw up his hands in disgust. "Yeah! Little kids to do a military mission! That'll end well!"

"Do we have a choice?"

Stoker glared at Rimfire. "Fine. Find 'em and you do exactly as I say. Understand?"

"Yes sir!" Rimfire ripped off a salute and headed off.

Three minutes later he returned, Chopper and Primer behind him. "What do we do?"

"Guard the perimeter," Stoker told him. "We'll be inside."

As Stoker vanished with Harley, Rimfire tried some ninjitsu kicks while Chopper and Primer sat on a rock. "Man," sighed Primer. "Sixteen and we're still sitting at the kids table!"

Stoker and Harley snuck into the castle, guns at the ready. They went undetected by the Plutarkian guards, but imagined their luck wouldn't hold out for long, not after they tried to break out the Freedom Fighters…

A scream rang out through the corridors.

"That's Vinnie," said Stoker, looking sick and afraid.

"I know." Harley's expression hardened. "We have to get him out. We have to get them all out."

"Let's go."

They followed the corridor in the direction the screaming had come from, eventually coming to two doorways. Cautiously, Stoker opened the first. Within was row after row of steel tables – and upon them, the Freedom Fighters.

"You found them!"

Stoker turned, snarling. Behind him, Rimfire, Primer and Chopper were peeking over his shoulder.

"I told you kids to stay outside!"

"Um… we didn't hear?" Primer did her best to look innocent.

"Whatever." Stoker hadn't been able to get the scream out of his head. "You three get everyone out of here. Harley, come with me. We've got to find the rookies. They're not here."

Rimfire, Primer and Chopper piled into the room, Primer finding the control for the restraints and blasting it with one shot of her gun. The Freedom Fighters were released.

Although not in good shape.

Denel, unable to speak, began shaking the Freedom Fighters that were still lying comatose. Too quickly, she found half of them unconscious. Frustrated with her inability to communicate, she tried to tell Chopper about it through hand gestures.

"We just need to get them out!" Chopper indicated to the way they came in. "Get the mice that can walk and have them carry the others!"

"We're heading to Alternate Post 14," Rimfire told the Fighters who had made it to their feet and were helping the others.

Denel nodded, hooking her arm around Vendel and dragging him to his feet. The other Freedom Fighters got the idea and helped their injured comrades.

"Go!" Primer indicated to the door and the Freedom Fighters left as fast as they could.

"Shouldn't we be following?" asked Rimfire.

"Screw that!" said Chopper forcefully. "I need to know that Throttle is okay. We go after Stoker and Harley."

"I don't think so."

The three mice turned slowly at the sound of the voice, Chopper impatient, Rimfire and Primer filled with dread. There was only one person with that voice…

Rimfire stared at the newcomer, unable to believe his eyes.

"Uncle Modo?"

&&&&&&&&&&

Stoker hit the door hard, rolling into the room and blasting. Harley was right behind him, her own gun raised and shooting.

Karbunkle dropped the scalpel, raising his arms in a gesture of surrender – then running for his life. Gunfire followed him but almost miraculously, he avoided being killed, leaping through a grating in the floor and getting away.

Plutarkians piled through the door. Stoker dispatched them with his gun, sending them fleeing. From the corner of his eye, he could see Harley running for the controls, to release the three trapped mice.

The moment she was free from her restraints, Carbine leapt from the metal table and raced over to Vinnie, who still hadn't moved. She stared down at his gore-coated face, willing him to be alive.

"Vinnie…"

She leaned down and kissed his mouth, unaware of the tears that she shed. "Please be okay Vinnie… I'm so sorry, please… be okay."

Vinnie's eyes remained determinedly closed, but his muscles were tensed, his teeth gritted, his fists gripped tightly. He was alive – but she could tell he was in severe agony.

And his face…

Harley approached her. "I have an anaesthetic here. Let me give it to him. It'll put him out of his pain."

"Please…" Carbine looked at her would-be rival, wide eyed. "You can help him?"

"I hope so." Harley's face was grim as she pulled out the needle and injected it into Vinnie's neck.

For a few moments, there was no response. Then, almost imperceptibly, his muscles relaxed, his fists unclenching.

Carbine leant over him. "Vinnie?"

Vinnie's eyes blinked open. "Sweetheart! Looking good!"

"He might be doped for a few minutes," explained Harley.

Carbine helped Vinnie to his feet. "We gotta get out of here."

Harley spent a moment or so tying a bandage around his face, giving Carbine a curious look. "Um… have you noticed any pain yourself?"

"Not really." Carbine had noticed a dull ache in her tail but had been too worried about Vinnie to give it any thought.

"Right. Because – I hate to tell you this, but um... your tail is…"

Carbine turned to look at her tail and went cold. Her normal tail was gone. Instead, she had a length of metal in the shape of her tail, somehow attached to her. She gave an experimental twitch. The metallic tail twitched too.

For a moment, she was about to lose it, run screaming about her loss. Then she felt Vinnie's comforting weight leaning on her. He neededher to stay strong. She could have her freakout later.

"Hey babe," said Vinnie, a wide grin on his face. "You look ready to –whip tail!" He broke into hysterical laughter.

"He can't help it," said Harley quickly. "It should wear off soon."

"It never wears off with Vinnie," said Carbine, still trying to get used to having a metal tail. She pulled him toward the door when she realised a metal bunker in the corner was bulging.

"Our bikes!"

Stoker blasted the lock off the door and the three bikes emerged, rolling up to their riders. Taking a glance at Throttle, Stoker suddenly realised that he didn't look too good.

"Can you see?"

"I – yeah, kind of." Throttle blinked slightly. "It's all – like looking through a heat seeker. All greens and reds."

"Shit." Stoker looked closer at Throttle. "I think your eye – your right eye – um, I think it's artificial."

"Artificial?"Throttle put his hands over his eyes. "Man, if I could see normally…"

There was a whine from Throttle's head and he groaned aloud, then blinked, taking his hands from his face. "I can – almost see?"

"Almost?"

"Everything's so pale…"

"Try these." Stoker took off his field specs and handed them to Throttle. "The polar whiteout should help."

Throttle put on the shades and checked it out. "Yeah, that's better. I can see where I'm going now."

"Stoker!" Vinnie looked in his direction and saluted, Carbine rolling her eyes. "My hero!"

"Vinnie," said Carbine quietly. "Shut up!"

"Carbie?"

"Please don't call me that."

"You've got a great butt," said Vinnie, smirking wider.

"You too Vinnie," she said with a sigh. "How long is this gonna last? The last thing I need is a sedated smart mouth."

At that moment, the door opened and Rimfire, Primer and Chopper walked through, their hands in the air.

"Sorry Stoker," said Rimfire apologetically.

Towering over them was the gigantic form of Modo, both arms aimed at the teens, ready to shoot if they didn't comply. It was the first time they had got a good look at him, save for in the heat of the battlefield. As they had already realised, both of his arms had been replaced by metal ones, both equip with guns which were currently trained on the three teenagers. Both eyes glowed red, suggesting that they were not the ones he had been born with. Around the right side of his face was a vaguely circular scar that cut from ear to eyebrow and around his cheek, mostly healed over although no fur grew there. The only way they could identify easily that it was Modo was his grey fur and the sheer size and muscular build he retained.

"Modo!" Vinnie grinned at his old friend. "Looks like you're well-armed – well armed! Get it? I'm killing myself here!"

"Vinnie?" Carbine spoke through gritted teeth. " Please don't talk anymore."

Modo looked at them, his eyes shining red. "Get into the locker."

"You didn't sell out to the fish Modo," said Throttle quietly. "What happened?"

"Get in the locker."

"They brainwashed him – well, I always knew he had a dirty mind," said Vinnie, going into more gales of laughter. "That's what they were doing to me! See the cuts? Brain bugs! He's gone buggy!"

Carbine was close to cracking when she took a second look at Modo and realised that Vinnie was right. Modo had a scar, barely noticeable but still there, over his nose and around his eye. Someone had reattached the skin and fur after he had the part removed – and it seemed likely that person was Karbunkle.

"Get in the locker."

Letting Vinnie stand on his own feet, Carbine stepped forward, taking the biggest chance of her life. "You can't do it."

Modo swung his head to look at her.

"You can't shoot your own family in cold blood. You can't hurt Rimfire or Primer." She only hoped he felt the same about Chopper. "Let us go Modo."

"For Plutark…" He swung his arm cannons in her direction.

Not thinking, she whipped her tail around and wrapped it around his feet, expecting to knock him off balance. But she had forgotten the metal tail, which was far more powerful than the one she was born with. It pulled Modo off his feet, dropping him to the floor.

Immediately, Stoker and Harley retrieved their dropped weapons, Rimfire, Primer and Chopper pulling spares to replace the ones they had dropped in the next room. All five were trained on Modo.

Modo glared up at them, obviously judging his chances of taking them down before they could get him and not liking them. The cannons in his arms retracted and he sat, raising hands in the universal gesture of surrender.

"Get in the locker," said Stoker grimly.

"Wait." Throttle stepped forward slightly, concentrating – and with a whine that made his head hurt, his new left eye altered to the spectrums of heat. Taking off the shades, he glanced over Modo. The mouse had been mechanically engineered in his arms, no doubt about that – but there was something else, not giving off the same heat signature as the rest of his brain.

"Vinnie's right, there's something in his mind making him follow Plutarkian orders."

"We're not in a position to take him with us and find him a good surgeon Throttle," said Stoker sharply. "Even if taking it out is possible." He gestured for Modo to get into the locker and slowly, Modo pulled himself to his feet and headed toward where the bikes had been imprisoned.

"Hey Modo," said Vinnie conversationally, grinning widely. "If you got the inside word on the Plutarkians, you can tell us if they really do got a Tug Transformer, right?"

Modo paused and glared, but didn't respond.

"I gotta warn you," continued Vinnie, from the corner of his mouth as if sharing a secret, almost laughing. "My lady here, she's got a really short temper – and she's having a really bad day."

Narrowing his eyes at Vinnie, Modo nodded.

"In Tharsis Rise Volcano?" asked Stoker.

Again, Modo nodded.

"In the locker." Stoker frowned as Modo walked into the locker and Rimfire dashed forward to bolt him in. Briefly, the young mouse leaned his forehead against the cold metal and closed his eyes. He had hoped for so long that his Uncle Modo was alive and now they were leaving him here, under brainwashing by the Plutarkians…

"We'll get him back Rimfire," said Primer, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"That's a promise," added Chopper grimly.

"Come on," said Carbine. "We've got to get out of here and regroup, before any more Plutarkians land on us."

"Agreed," said Stoker, whistling for his bike. "We've got to get the Freedom Fighters patched up. Then we can figure out what to do about the Tug Transformer."

"And what to do about Modo," added Throttle, staring at the steel door which he suspected wouldn't hold the big grey mouse for long.

Sorry big guy, he thought as the group raced out of the room on their bikes. It's only temporary – we'll get you away from here. I promise.