Vulcans have nothing on Martian Mind Melds...

Credit for this chapter's rewrite goes to Cutegenius for her helpful review that helped to redo this chapter and actually inspired the entire story's overhaul. Who says leaving reviews doesn't make an author pay attention?

Chapter 5

Throttle was amazed to find that Charlene was capable to telepathy without touching. Granted, this wasn't without precedent. This was a quirk of Martian antennae that usually only showed in very young children. It was considered an evolutionary trait that allowed children to tell if they were in danger, or to alert the parents to their needs. Normally, one of the parents of a Mouse would use their own antennae to teach a child how to turn the ability off by sheilding their thoughts. The parents would use their own mind abilities to make mental sheilds for the child to practice building until they could to it on their own.

To Throttle's knowledge, it had never happened in someone as old as Charlene. But in a way, it made sense; after all, as a Mouse, she was less than three days old.

That Charley was so telepathically sensitive as to pick up his thoughts without touching him or using her antennae could turn out to be a mixed blessing. Good in that it could allow her a huge boost in intuitive thinking, as she could almost predict what her possible opponents would do before they did it. And very very bad in that she couldn't pick and choose what to hear because she couldn't turn it off. She could go insane from the constant barrage of thoughts and images she'd be able to hear on Mars if she didn't get some form of shielding.

Throttle had been shocked at her development and was deeply worried for her. Modo couldn't help without more of his clan present, as he wasn't very gifted in touch-telepathy, and Vincent was the same way. Throttle had almost the opposite problem. His touch-telepathy was so acute that if he tried to mind-walk with her as she was now, tried to share some of his psychic shielding, it could result in a melding of minds. And not in the good way. They wouldn't be able to get their thoughts, memories, or personalities apart, and it would result in the ultimate split personality.

The three mice had tried to be extra careful with how they acted around her until the ship came. And that had been the reason for the rift between Charley and Vinnie. Vincent, being his typical 'not listening to rules' self, had let slip a thought that had apparently hurt the girl beyond reason. She wouldn't tell the others what it was, and Vinnie wasn't talking either. Neither had spoken to each other since. Modo was still willing to stomp the white mouse into the ground for making Charley cry again.

Throttle had thanked the gods profusely when their ride had finally showed up. Rimfire and Stoker had landed in the Quigly feild this time, with a nearly perfect landing that had Rimfire doing a victory dance that had lasted a good six minutes. The bikers and Charley had laughed long and loud over that little display, and Stoker finally had to smack the kid upside his head to make it stop.

On the first sight of the new Charley, Rimfire immediately froze in place and blushed bright red. His reaction was easy to understand. Rimfire, Stoker, and the Bros had always noticed how attractive she was as a human. Human or Mouse, their bodies were essentially the same, and with Martians exploring space, they had grown an appreciation for many differant races' standards of beauty. Charley had curves in all the right places and her green eyes were rather exotic to them since it wasn't a color found in Mice, Rats, or Sand Raiders. But now that their human friend had features closer to home...

Charlene was gorgeous as a mouse- her fur being freshly grown was silky-soft, her hair was thick and shone with health. Not having seen years of sweat, strife, and war, her body was not only scar-free but also nearly perfect in form. Unlike the rest of the female Martian population (of any species), her body hadn't been hardened or over-muscled from intense fighting to stay alive, nor was it overly scrawny due to malnutrition from lack of resources. Charley as a human had a well-toned but not muscle-builder type body, with the right amount of noticiable feminine curves. She actually fit the ideal body image of female Martian Mice before the years of war, something no male had seen in many years; a healthy, un-tarnished and well-nurtured female. Throw in that pair of hootchi jeans that was making poor Modo blush, and a classicaly beautiful face, and the young lady was the Martian equivalent of a Victoria's Secret super-model.

Poor Rimfire never stood a chance. He stammered, "W-w-whoa. Miss Ch-Charley? Is that r-really you?"

"Sure is," she said teasingly at his blush, absently rubbing the back of her head to ease the headache that was steadily growing at the efforts to block out the two other mice's thoughts as well as her bros'. "You like the new look?"

"Oh yes, ma'am," he said appreciatively, a very goofy-looking grin on his face.

A long, low wolf-whistle sounded out as Stoker came over to greet her. And she deserved the whistle. That girl was going to turn heads everywhere on Mars, be they Mouse, Raider, or Rat. The dark-furred Mouse grinned as he lifted up her hand in a traditional bow and lightly kissed her knuckles. "Amen gods, for letting me see this vision of beauty. Charley-darlin', you wear Martian very well."

She blushed to the tips of her ears at the older mouse's heated look, his potent charm still highly effective even at his age. "Stoker, you dirty old Mouse," she murmured softly, smiling.

"Wha-I said the same thing and she threw a clock at me, he says it and gets a blush! So not fair," Vinnie grumbled. At Charley's acidic look, he subsided. Stoker exchanged questioning looks with his younger bros at the surprising hostility between the two, but got no answer. The older Mouse shrugged, then used his metal tail to take her bag as he offered her his arm. The mechanic found a smile for him as he escorted her into the ship. The bros loaded the bikes into the ship along with some supplies for Mars and their few personal things and were headed for the Red Planet in minutes.

Charley had almost immediately locked herself in one of the bunk rooms and tried to block out the thoughts she could feel pounding against her mind, worrying all five Mice. Throttle had explained Charley's unique problem to Stoker, asking if he knew anyone that could help her back on Mars. Stoker replied that he could try to help her with that. He had enough skill, but not too much sensitivity, to successfully imprint on her the mental help she needed. The older mouse then offered to make her a part of his clan; to use the psychic shields his clan's members had collectively created over thousands of years and imprint it on her own psyche to protect her.

The poor girl had nearly dove on Stoker, she was so eager to get started. All three bikers had then cautioned her that clan imprinting was the same as adoption, and was permanent. Once she was under Stoker's protection, she would always be so (even if she was returned to being human that very day), and her actions would reflect on him the same as if they were his own. They would be family, forever. Charlene had been shocked and extremely honored at the offer, and had accepted with gratitude and joy. After all, its not everyday you get adopted.

Stoker had taken her aside and in less than thirty minutes, it was done. He was later heard to quietly say that he had never had so quick a learner in his clan; she had learned how to form sheilds and barriers better and stronger than his own in less time than it had ever taken anyone before.

One major problem was solved, but several more were left.

Throttle and Modo sat back in the ship's rest quarters as they headed to Mars, talking with Stoker about what had been going on. Charley was up front with Rimfire, going over the controls of the ship with delight as he taught her the basics of spaceship steering. The young mouse figured she'd be flying on her own in less than twenty minutes. Vincent claimed he was going to go over his beloved bike, maybe check out the engine, but his bros knew the truth. He was avoiding, or more accurately, hiding from Charley in the storage bay. He hadn't been able to even so much as look at her since they'd boarded the ship.

Modo was all for whipping the white mouse's tail black and blue, and Throttle wasn't far from agreeing with him. Stoker told both mice to hold off on it for now, as he wanted to talk to the lady later on and see what she thought about all this. Honestly, it was a giant can of worms all around.

Thankfully, Mars was only a few hours away, and the answers could be found there. They hoped.