Hello all of you lovely beings.

Welcome to 2021 and also welcome to a new story.

If you haven't read the first instalment of this series, it's called 'Family Matters'.

Now, you don't have to read that one if you don't want to (but it is advised of course).

Thank you for being here and enjoy!


Chapter 1 - Thanks for all the fish


The first thing she felt was a slight throbbing on the left side of her head. She raised her hand and rubbed her temple with her fingers. A headache. That was never a good sign. It meant she'd been spending too much time worrying about things she shouldn't be concerned about. Groaning a little, Charley propped herself up on her elbows.

The second thing she felt was something heavy resting on top of her right leg, making it almost impossible for her to get out of bed in order to find something to get rid of that nagging pain in her skull. Carefully she tried to shimmy her way from underneath the weighty arm pinning her partially down. The owner of said limb let out a loud snore as she managed to pull herself free.

Slipping out of the bed, Charley turned her head and looked at the man still sound asleep behind her. He was a man alright, just not what you would expect. For one thing, he was not a 'hu'man. He wasn't even from this Earth. His name was Modo, a Martian anthropomorphic mouse from the planet Mars. Tall, broad and muscular build. Grey fur, one eye, the other hidden behind an eye patch. He lost that one during the Plutarkian war back home.

The other thing he'd lost was one of his arms. In its place Modo had a robotic arm, but it happened so long ago now that he was more than used to it. As was Charley. She didn't care about any of that. The fact he was missing certain parts or the fact that he wasn't even her species didn't matter. She loved him with all her heart. She left quietly and headed down the steps towards the living room.

Over a week ago this place had been full of life. Martians and Earthlings. Although it was more mice than men. Charley enjoyed the silence at times, especially because her three friends were incredibly present wherever they were. But she didn't feel that way as of late. Things were almost too quiet. Having Vinnie and Throttle over every day and eating all of her food didn't count as bringing life into the house.

Though she was happy that things had gone back to normal. Because Vinnie struggled in the beginning with Modo and her becoming a couple. There was a time she thought that Vinnie could be more to her than just a friend. Vinnie was always in the spotlight, flirting with her, riding with her. But then something changed and it wasn't because of anything he did. It was Modo who had caused that shift.

The tallest of the three Martians. The kindest, the strongest and the quietest. Charley was sure there had been multiple hints thrown her way before she'd ever noticed his interest in her being anything other than friendship. But somehow she'd been too pig headed to pick up on them. Until that day came when he described something about her in explicit detail. A matter she never gave much thought, because it was something humans didn't experience.

The power of scent. More specifically the effect such a thing could have on a Martian mouse. Modo had described her fragrance as that of sandalwood and jasmine. An early morning ride through a forest after it has rained. Honestly, she had no idea what that meant, let alone what it smelled like. All Charley remembered was how she felt after hearing him talk to her like that.

After that day, that feeling never left and only got stronger as time went by. Finally she began to register the small hints Modo was throwing her way. Staring at her. Standing close to her. Touching her arm in a subtle manner. The little growl coming from the back of his throat every now and then.

Charley's stomach tingled and the urge to head back upstairs to crawl up against her now lover was beginning to take the upper hand. But she wanted to get rid of this headache first before getting back to him.

As she grabbed an aspirin from the kitchen and a glass of water, Charley went back into the living room and turned on the television. It was still early in the morning, but today's news was already in motion. Leaving the sound off, she leaned back in the couch and quietly finished her water.

It wouldn't be too long before Throttle and Vinnie would wake up and make their way over to the Last Chance Garage. Now that Modo spent every night in her bed, the others automatically came this way instead of waiting for him to show up at the scoreboard. Because that grey mouse was very reluctant to leave her side and she didn't mind that one bit.

But as Charley stared at the television screen, suddenly something caught her eye. A photograph of a guy popped up. A man with almond shaped eyes, a broad smile, flashing extremely white teeth, and dark hair slicked back. Charley did not know this man personally, but she recognized the name underneath the picture. Charles Morden.

"Modo!" Charley shouted over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the television and quickly turned up the volume.

It didn't take too long for Modo to appear downstairs. He looked incredibly confused as well as concerned, frantically looking around the room to make sure nothing was there that was a threat to his girl.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Ssh!" Charley pointed at the television.

'Two weeks have passed since Casino and Dreamland club owner Charles Morden was found dead in his office by his employees. To this day, the police still have zero leads as to who is behind this unexpected murder, but they are not willing to give up the search.

Today Lawrence L. Limburger, owner of Limburger Industries, as declared a twenty thousand dollar reward for any golden tip in order to find out who murdered this once well-known and highly respected business tycoon.

Call this number if you have,-'

Charley turned off the television and looked up at her boyfriend, who seemed just as taken back by the announcement as she was. Modo blinked and lowered his eye towards her.

"I'd better contact Throttle and Vinnie."

But the auburn haired woman shook her head. "Let's wait until they're awake. It's still pretty early, they're probably still asleep."

"Mmm." Modo replied, frowning a little. "You're right." He sat down next to her on the couch and placed his arm behind her.

"Speaking of early,-" The mouse continued. "Any reason why you're already up?"

Leaning into his chest, Charley closed her eyes before answering him. "Headache."

"You're starting to make me worry with those. I don't remember you having them that often."

"Maybe I'm experiencing some sort of withdrawal because it's been so quiet lately that my mind is actually losing it." She replied with a sigh.

Modo's nose twitched. "That's not funny." and Charley let out a chuckle.

He was right and she knew it. The headaches weren't frequent but they always occurred at the exact same time of day. Early in the morning. She had no idea why they happened. Perhaps it was stress, she'd experienced a lot of that the last month. Now with things having gone quiet again, this could very well be the result of having bottled up anxiety for so long.

Though hearing the news just now wasn't doing her any good. She knew something like this was going to happen. She had predicted that it would. Sure, trouble had been on the low side as of late, as far as that was possible with those three Martian mice she cared so much for.

But Charley had had an inkling that what happened over a week ago was going to get back to them and she was pretty sure that this thing on the news was going to be the start of it.

Charles Morden.

The man who was in some way responsible for one of the most horrific accidents ever to have happened to Charley's family. Namely the death of her brother, Sam Davidson. Unbeknownst to Charley, Sam had struggled with a gambling addiction, creating a huge debt with the guy whose photograph she'd just seen on the news.

Sam, her brother, had been in a motorcycle accident over a year ago along with his wife, Isabel Davidson. Izzy had survived the crash, but Sam hadn't. Or so they had all thought at first.

Morden had contacted Izzy only a couple of days after the funeral, revealing to her everything on Sam's gambling habit as well as the debt he'd created over the years. Izzy hadn't been aware of either of those things and without telling anybody else, the woman began to work for Charles Morden to take care of her dead husband's debt. After that, she left for England and stayed there for a few months.

But then, a month ago, she returned to Chicago. Meeting up with Charley and thus, rather inevitably, met the Biker mice from Mars along with Stoker. The Former Freedom Fighter leader, who had crash landed on Earth once again, fell for the British blond fast and hard. He couldn't have hidden it, even if he'd wanted to.

As time went by, Charles Morden learned of Izzy's return and tried to get in contact with her. She declined and ultimately the guy went as far as having Charley kidnapped just so Izzy would meet up with him, which she did.

It was then they learned of another dark secret Sam Davidson had had. It turned out Sam had never died in that crash. He'd faked his death and had gone into hiding in another state to avoid having to deal with Charles Morden and all the trouble he'd caused. In the end Morden found him and hired him to do his dirty work. For whatever unknown reason Sam agreed and did the guy's bidding. Until a few weeks ago.

He'd stolen something from Morden, a microfilm containing schematics for a Long Range Orbital scanner amongst other things. An object where multiple alien parties had an interest in. Sam managed to hide the object, but paid for it with his life as he was murdered by Morden not too long after that.

Modo and Vinnie rescued Charley from her kidnapper, one of Morden's lackeys. The story ended with Stoker killing Charles Morden for all the things he'd done to Isabel Davidson, the woman who'd captured his heart.

The microfilm ended up being found by Charley and was now currently on its way to Mars along with Izzy who had decided, against everybody's wishes, to go along with the hazel furred mouse back to his planet.

Charley had honestly thought that that would be the end of things. But, as she had foreseen, it would seem there was indeed an aftermath to deal with. An aftermath that also appeared to be linked to a certain Plutarkian named Lawrence Limburger.


The Scoreboard

"Go long, go long!"

"There is a wall here, Vincent!" Throttle yelled back as he was only a couple of feet away from the metal structure which was the scoreboard.

"Fine, in that case,- go through!"

"Excuse me?"

But it was too late. The white mouse known as Vinnie, turned on his heel and with a massive force hurled a leathery looking object into the direction of his older bro, Throttle. At the same time the familiar sound of an incoming radio transmission echoed through the scoreboard.

The tanned mouse stepped aside as the dark brown football crashed into a pillar where he'd only been standing a second ago. He cringed a little as a familiar sound of bending steel sounded behind him. Throttle threw a quick glance over his shoulder, the ball was stuck inside the support beam.

It would seem Vinnie was beginning to be just as dangerous with throwing things as Modo was. Of course, Vinnie had a true gift of being able to destroy things with incredible and surprising ease. Modo was more careful, mainly in order to avoid having to deal with an angry Charley. But no matter what happened or who had done what, Charley's wrath would always befall on the youngest mouse.

"Throttle here." The Biker mice leader said into the microphone. "Everything alright at the garage, big guy?"

"Throttle." Modo acknowledged his bro. "Any chance you two seeing the news this morning?"

The tanned mouse moved his eyes towards the television, the screen was black. "That's a no on the morning programme. Something wrong?"

"It involves old lard butt." Modo mentioning Limburger was enough for Throttle to realize trouble was probably ahead.

He turned his head, ready to call Vinnie over when he spotted him at the other side of the room. The mouse had both of his hands clasped firmly around the part of the football which was still visible from within the wall. With one of his feet planted against the beam, Vinnie tried with all his might to pull the object out of the frame.

"Aaarrgh!" He emitted through gritted teeth. The ball gave way with such power that Vinnie landed on his back, but nonetheless he held his arm aloft with pride.

"Got it!"

Throttle shook his head and returned his attention back to Modo on the other side of the transmission. "Do we need to pay a visit to fish-face's tower?" He asked.

"I don't know. He hasn't done anything. Well,- technically."

That sounded rather strange and Throttle furrowed his brow. "Alright, I'm listening."

Modo quickly explained what he and Charley had seen on the news this morning. Lawrence Limburger offering a twenty thousand dollar reward to whoever had information regarding the death of Charles Morden. Just like Charley, Throttle couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He was there when Morden tried to kill Izzy and he was the one who had stopped Morden from doing any further damage. But it was his former coach, Stoker, who had finished the greedy loanshark after Throttle and Izzy had left the club. There was no way anybody could trace back it had been Stoker. Tracing a Martian fingerprint was impossible for Earthlings. Their patterns were unreadable and did not resemble that of a human in any way.

Aside from that, Stoker had also made sure all of the camera footage got destroyed. He even went as far as taking everything that ever showed Izzy used to work at that club. Recordings of her exotic dancing as well as anything else he could find.

"Do you think we should do something about this?" Modo asked.

Throttle wasn't sure. There was no doubt in his mind that the reason behind Limburger offering a reward, was because he was hoping to get his hands on that microfilm containing several blueprints. After all, the big cheese's name was on the list of Alien parties trying to buy the highly sought after item.

"We'll keep an eye out, obviously. After all, there is no way the police will ever figure out who did it. We just have to make sure Limburger doesn't realize the schematics are in Martian hands." He said to Modo.

"Yeah, I agree. I'll get back to Charley now, we'll drop by in a moment."

"Roger. Throttle, out."

He pushed the microphone back in it's place. In the meantime, Vinnie had walked over with the football still clutched underneath his arm. "Great. This is exactly what we needed. Some action!"

"I wish. If we go after Limburger, he'll think we've got something to do with it. Let's wait until he makes a move in our court first and then we'll take care of it." Throttle exclaimed and Vinnie's face fell a little.

"Fine. As long as I can take the first shot." He retorted grumpily tossing the ball up into the air and kicking it with his leg. It flew through the air and ultimately landed on the concrete floor with a thud.

Throttle leaned against the wall and rubbed his chin. It wasn't the police ever finding out who had killed Morden that had Throttle worried. No, there was something else troubling him, only he wasn't sure what. The image of Izzy appeared in his mind and an eerie sensation filled his stomach. He shook his head and stared out of the window.

It had been a week since she left the Last Chance Garage in the middle of the night to go to Mars with Stoker. Throttle had been sad to see her go. A part of him had really wanted her to stay behind. But he couldn't sway her mind, so instead he helped her take the microfilm with her, without the others finding out. Even to this day the others did not know that he'd done that.

But at least Mars now had a chance to be prepared for its enemies as well as unknown incoming spacecrafts. Speaking of space,- He placed his hands on the window sill and looked up at the sky. Today was probably the day of Stoker and Izzy arriving on the red planet. Their leaving had been so sudden, but now that a week had gone by, everyone had sort of made their peace with it.

However, Throttle hoped that once they would arrive, they will make contact with Earth. At least to let them all know they were there safe and sound.

"Hey, Throttle!" Vinnie suddenly shouted behind him. "Catch this!"


Space

Many stories are told about the endless universe surrounding our little blue planet. For as long as storytelling has existed, there have been tales about the moon, stars and planets up in the sky.

No matter our age, where or who we are. Stories are always told. We read about it, see or hear about them. But as we all know, one can never really be to sure if that which is told is the truth. Because over the years the narrative changes. They become stories filled with a wild imagination.

Little green men kidnapping you in your sleep and experimenting on you. Cattle getting beamed up into spaceships and taken to other planets. Or how about the classic tales of how one day monkeys will rule Earth or that dolphins are aliens and are only here for the fish.

There comes a point that you don't know what to believe anymore and you'll either choose one story or deny them all together. And then it turns out that none of it was true in the first place.

There are no little green men, the Moon isn't grey and white at all and Mars,- Well, let's just say that reality was rather different.

The journey took a week instead of seven months. But then again, Martian ships might be faster than what NASA has to offer. Mars wasn't icy cold, the air wasn't toxic and the atmosphere was exactly like the one back on Earth. Still, there was no place on that blue planet you could compare with the red one. Perhaps the only place which got closest were the areas near the equator. Such as the Sahara desert of Africa.

And now here she was.

Standing with her own two feet upon the surface of an alien planet. She crouched down and pressed the palm of her hand on top of the sand, made a fist and retracted it towards her face. It felt exactly like the sand back home in England. The only thing that didn't match was the colour. Spreading her fingers, the sand flew away on the back of a soft breeze.

She took in a deep breath. The air was pleasant. Not too warm and not too cold. Like the weather in late April, but without the rain. It was then she wondered what rain on Mars would look like. Would it be like back home? Was the water on this planet, of which there was so little, the same colour as it was on Earth?

Her heart pounded with excitement as her eyes roamed the horizon. Hills of red sand and behind them there were tips of, what she assumed, rocks. She had also spotted small structures which looked like houses build within those walls.

"We're here." A deep voice said from behind her, followed by two hazel coloured hands settling down upon her shoulders.

Isabel Dashwood, formerly known as Davidson leaned back into the tall Martian's touch. A new place, a new beginning and thus Sam's name no longer felt like a part of her. Her maiden name would do just fine. She closed her eyes as the person behind her gently rubbed her collarbone.

"Welcome to Mars, beautiful." Stoker said with a broad smile.


Welcome to Mars.

And welcome back to those of you who read "Family Matters"!

Would love to hear your thoughts, as always. Have a great day and until next time!