Planet: Mars

Location: Freedom Fighter Alternate Post 14

Time: 10 Hours since the Battle of Tharsis Rise

Throttle sat motionless, trying to wade through the flood of information he had just received. From the looks of things, his bros were in a similar state. Carbine, on the other hand, was not convinced.

"You can't be serious. From the future? The three of you really bought that pile of shit?" she scoffed and crossed her arms.

"Carbine," Stoker sighed, getting tired of her constant suspicion, "Do you really think Charley would have pulled a story like that outta her ass without a way to back it all up if needed?" Stoker groaned and rubbed at his eyes.

"Yeah, for instance, showing both Primer and I her memories. You know as well as anyone you can't fake those. People that attempt thinking up fake memories have no emotion with them. Those 'memories' are also patchy with huge spaces of time missing and not nearly as detailed as a true memory. Charley's memories were perfect! Not to mention we saw things that haven't happened yet, which have now happened." Rimfire gestured to all of the bros' injuries. He added glare to the female soldier for her continued suspicion. But this seemed to shut her up as the realization hit her about as gently as a grenade.

Primer sat close to her uncle. Having grabbed a scrap bit of black material from somewhere, she was currently working on turning it into an eyepatch for him. Harley kneeled in front of a shell-shocked Vinnie, unwinding the bandages around his face and studied his scars for a moment, before moving to collect something from her toolbox.

"So…Charley knew us from the start? All this time…and before?" Modo whispered.

"Yup. Bet that explains how she got along with you so well, huh? Anyone else would need several years of training to know how to manage all three of you at once." Stoker glanced over at the grey-furred mouse with a rueful smile. Throttle shook his head, still too stunned at what he was hearing and trying to figure out how he felt about it all.

"But…why didn't she tell us?" Stoker's gaze dropped and the twins glanced at each other.

"When she told Rimfire and I, she said she wanted to fix somethings, or avoid them completely." Primer explained in a soft tone as Harley returned, silver ball of Flex-Plate Shielding cradled in her hands. "We thought that she was referring to…all of this. But she was also worried about changing things too much… Changing the future and all that, if she wasn't careful, things could turn out a lot worse."

"Or she was worried you wouldn't believe her, or thought she was crazy?" Rimfire added, making sure to look at Carbine as he said this, "What was she supposed to say? Hey guys, I'm an alien from your future but I can't tell you anything that's going to happen just in case I make things worse." He added, revealing just how insane the situation was.

Harley kneeled in front of Vinnie once again and gently held the metal ball against his face. The metal shifted and molded across his scarred skin, forming a perfect half-mask. Primer and Rimfire glanced over, witnessing yet another change that cemented the bros' future with Charley. Primer finished the eyepatch and handed it to her uncle, who took it wordlessly and removed his own bandages before securing the eyepatch in place.

"She felt she owed it to you. After everything you did, or will do, for her in the future. She wanted to make things better." Stoker added. He bowed his head in sorrow. "Which was why Amelia's death nearly destroyed her."

Throttle's head whipped up at that statement. "What?" Stoker lifted his eyes to Throttle.

"When I confronted her about the Trial, and offered to send you both to Earth. She told me that you bros never shared much about your families with her… In fact, I got the impression you didn't really tell her much of anything. But one thing she was sure about, was that you still had your clan status." Throttle's eyes widened as Stoker continued. "She was convinced she had somehow caused your mother's death. It's why she didn't hesitate to agree to the Trial. Especially after Striker added the stipulation that you would keep your clan status regardless of what happened to her."

"If that's the case, why didn't she say anything then? And why can't she just go back to Earth, or to her own time?" Carbine questioned, still not fully convinced but now a lot softer than she was before.

"I suspect Mace had something to do with that. If he was a spy from the beginning, he probably knew Charley's cover story was a hoax, and she knew he was a spy. We never did figure out how Tynan infiltrated the Monastery. Mace was probably the inside man. After she recovered, I caught the two of them talking. He likely threatened her to keep his secret, either with her life or with one of ours." Stoker explained. It all seemed so obvious now, looking back…

"As for why she can't go back, she's technically already on Earth, Carbine. Only, she's currently a teenager. And we don't exactly have the ability to build a time machine for her, can we?" Rimfire added. Vinnie held a hand to his head as he shook it.

Stoker nodded as he turned his gaze to Throttle, who had yet to have a noticeable reaction to all of this. But it was obvious that, at least internally, the young mouse was having a meltdown. "You ok kid?"

Throttle looked up at him, honestly not sure how to answer the question. So he settled on going with his gut. "Yeah…yeah I think so…" He shook his head again, "It's just… In the back of my mind, I knew she was hiding something. But this was never even a consideration." He mumbled, more to himself than to the room. Both Modo and Vinnie nodded in agreement. Throttle smiled ruefully as he glanced as Carbine, who raised a brow at him. "I guess I should be happy she is loyal to us, more than I ever imagined." Carbine rolled her eyes but smiled apologetically.

"Oh man. I think I'm ready to wake up from this dream now." Harley smiled empathetically and rubbed the back of his head. They all jumped when Rimfire suddenly yelped and fell of his seat as it suddenly sparked.

"Oh Momma!" He groaned as he rubbed at his tail.

"Don't you mean 'Oh Grandmomma'?" A voice called out through the static screen of the communicator that Rimfire had unknowingly sat on, and Modo couldn't help it as a beam spread across his face.

"Hey, is that…?" Everyone gathered closer to the screen as the faint image of Nora Maverick appeared on the screen. Harley moved behind the screen and tinkered with it for a moment before the static settled and Nora was fully visible. her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. Modo grew self-conscious and quickly shoved his right arm behind him. Nora's expression softened at the sight.

"I see that my call couldn't have come sooner. What happened, Modo?" She asked softly. Modo winced and sighed.

"Well…we've had better days, momma. We had to evacuate Headquarters and… And Charley got left behind with the Plutarkians."

"My poor boys… But don't worry, that Charley-girl is far stronger and smarter than she looks. After all, she bested the Council and an Arch Povar, remember? I am sure she is running circles around those stink-faces." Throttle couldn't help but share a small smile with his bros at that. Regardless of who she truly was, there was no denying that Charley was one of a kind.

"You're right. Thanks Momma. Oh, tell sis not to worry, the twins are safe with us." He added quickly, gesturing to the twins with his left arm, awkward as it was with both of them on his right. The twins smiled and waved to their grandmother, who waved back.

"Of course they are, dear. I'll leave it to you. Vinnie dear, would you like me to contact Cynthia?"

"If it's not too much trouble, Aunt Nora." Vinnie said with a smile.

"Not a problem at all dear. Stay strong, bros! Show those Plutarkians what you are made of!" And with that, the call was ended. The bros all glanced at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

"We will, Momma. We will."

Planet: Mars

Location: Stilton's Castle

Time: 11 Hours since the Battle of Tharsis Rise

Stilton snarled at the miserable Sand Raiders before him, along with Limburger's useless lackey 'Mace'. They had just returned from a raid on the Freedom Fighter Headquarters, and had returned empty-handed.

"Get out of my sight, you miserable low-lives. I have no time for your excuses." He dismissed them with a snarl. He had already dealt with Limburger's pathetic attempt at gaining a promotion with the introduction of the mutant 'Fred'. Somehow, the creature was even more useless than Limburger himself. He dusted off the table before leaning against it, trying to stave off the headache.

"Makes you wonder how Plutark even managed to gain a foothold here, with people like that for allies." Stilton turned to see Cyclone leaning against the doorway, helmet still on her head. She insisted in keeping it on, and for now, he was willing to indulge her.

"Don't remind me." He mourned as he straightened. "I don't suppose you know where we can find the Freedom Fighters." The mouse sashayed into the room as she pressed a button on her helmet, a cord extending from it as she plugged it into the monitor in the room.

"See, this is why Rats are second class vermin. They think with their tails." She drawled as she typed a few things into the computer. "Our poor little runaway rodents forgot one key detail. Freedom Fighter bikes are equipped with tracking transceivers. And thanks to yours truly…" she gestured to the screen, which now displayed several blinking lights in a location previously unknown to the Plutarkians as a Freedom Fighter base. "We have our new target. Alternate Post 14." Stilton winced and dusted off the keyboard.

"I assume you know the way in?" he queried. Cyclone shrugged in response.

"Unfortunately, I wasn't given a briefing on any of the Alternate Posts. You would think 'darling' Stoker would do everything to ensure his lady love was prepared for anything. It shouldn't be too hard for me though. A few I was so worried about you's and some crocodile tears and Stoker will follow me around like a lost puppy." Stilton couldn't help but share a chuckle with her at that. For a mouse, she was positively Plutarkian.

"Well then, my warm-blooded Minx… Go forth and finish business."

Short chapter today, but it's a good segway into the next part.

Please Review!