Hi everyone...!

Man, I'm soooo sorry again for being this slow updating! I just wish that I'd have more time to write... But just so you know, I feel so bad for letting you guys wait always this long... And to you all who are (still, eternally) waiting for the new chapters to my other story... I will continue that story, just not sure when I'll get to it or again have the time. I just have all the ideas just piling up in my brain for this story as well as the other one... But I'll try to be quick with the next chapter.

This chapter is a bit different and first I was going to add more scenes to it but in the end decided to keep this chapter short. So, this doesn't really have any dialogue in it.. But in the next chapter, there'll be plenty as we'll hear more from the Earthlings as well as from our two Martians who we left in a bit of a tricky situation... But as for this chapter, it's more of an inner dialogue thingy I guess...But as I've said before I try not to rush with this storyline... Well, I hope you guys like it, please leave a comment and I think, I THINK, that I'll be able to upload the next chapter within a week... So... Let's keep our fingers and legs and toes crossed!

Finally, a BIG salute to you all out there who have been reading my stories and reviewing them and having... Really, I cannot thank you enough! You give me so much energy and joy which is great during this pandemic... Thanks especially for the comments to bmfm fangirl, Styx83, Vlaatjee, Flowangelic, MargariteRey, Wolftattoo, Youkai, Yankee71 and the "guest". I appreciate your comments and your support!

Stay safe out there,

-SpaceFlora

The Story of Rebellion and Hope

7.

Modo's garnet-red eyes were lazily scanning the scenery that stretched out in front of him. Thanks to the dust storm still raging on and swiping the desert before his eyes, covering the land and the sky, there really wasn't that much to see. And if it weren't for his helmet and the purple visor that covered his eyes from the small dust particles, he wouldn't be able to see anything at all.

Even if it probably was just a little past noon Martian time, it was dark as the thick dust clouds were blocking the Sun. But it never was that bright here on Mars anyway and rarely they got to enjoy the warmer weather. It was the perihelion this time of the year, which meant that Mars was at its' closest to the Sun, and that way the folks living close and around the Equator (which was nearly everybody) were experiencing what would be a Martian Summer. But instead of the sunny beaches, the sunburns, and the waterparks that maybe highlighted the Summers on Earth, here on Mars the Summer meant big-ass dust storms that could plague the entire planet for weeks straight, blocking the Sun and that way making the otherwise warmer Summer temperatures dropping. The nature during the perihelion was very hostile and angry, not that it was that much friendlier during the other seasons either...

Modo had been appointed to be the guard for the next few hours, to spot any suspicious activity around the Fighters' current post but being on guard on Mars was a very boring job as the sceneries rarely changed and seldom there was anything out there in the first place...He did like nature, nothing wrong with being outdoors, and he rarely complained but even he had to admit that this job was a little bit too uneventful and he caught himself nodding off from time to time. But to be fair, he hadn't had a good night's sleep who knows for how long now. He didn't even count at this point anymore. He wasn't even sure what day it was. The perception of time was just one of the many things the war had changed.

The big male shook his head while trying to keep himself awake. He closed his eyes and yawned loudly but the raging storm drowned even his own voice under it as his helmet couldn't block the nature sounds. Modo winced at these high-pitched wailings as the wind increased its' volume, screaming around him, like an animal in agonizing pain, like a deathly howl that would give anyone the chills and the loud wailing made Modo's sensitive Cave Mouse ears ring and ache. And as the strengthening wind had already sent out the loud warning sirens, it now suddenly and violently entered this hollow guard spot dug directly into the rock that Modo occupied currently and that barely could fit the grey male's massive figure even while seated. Modo quickly shielded himself with his arms, trying to protect his upper body from the flying pebbles the strong wind had carried a long way and that now attacked him from every direction, like a hard-pressure shower of small stones. Needless to say, being the target for the flying debris was rather a painful experience and luckily he wore a helmet since a flying rock could easily knock out a mouse. Yeah, this planet could kill you in so many creative ways. But just as quickly as the wind had intruded the guard post, it disappeared to menace the outside world again, leaving Modo alone.

The big male let out a sigh while leaning back again, his broad shoulders touching the cold rock with a bored thump as his eyes darted on the stormy view again, his tail moving in a slight agitation while feeling the fresh bruises that the flying debris had left on his body. He silently shook his head, sensing his irritation to grow inside him as his exhausted body and mind just ached for sleep, and catching some Z's felt much more inviting than being out here guarding the rocks and pebbles...But even a Fighter needed to obey orders from time to time and Stoker had ordered him here, so here he was, whether he liked it or not.

Modo tried to push the growing annoyance off his mind while focusing his attention on brushing the fine dust off his coarse grey fur and dirty clothes, just to feel a little less buried alive here, forcing positive thoughts to crawl into his brain. His dear old grey-furred Mommah had always taught him to stay positive and he tried his best to turn his moody thoughts around. The war just really tested one's sense of humor from time to time.

As he was somewhat more dust-free he turned his attention back on the desert again, well the whirling sand walls that covered the view. He had put on the target finder on the helmet's visor since otherwise, he couldn't really see anything in the storm. There could be a saber squid attacking him right now but he wouldn't be able to spot the creature before it would be too late if it weren't for the advantaged Martian technology. Luckily the Martians had their ways to cope with their hostile and unpredictable environment, but it still didn't feel like they were the winners here, far from it. They were more like the resourceful hostages the planet held, hostages that still loved their home planet and would defend it until the end. Well, at least the Cave Mice and the Rats would fight for their home planet since the Sand Raiders had joined the enemy a long time ago, those money-greedy bastards that would even sell their own grandmother if they would get a high-enough prize at the market...

But, back to the target finder. That application was perfect in the dust storm as it would detect any abnormal movement behind the walls of thick clouds of dust and flying debris. The downside was that since it couldn't really find anything out there yet it moved around the visor like an 80's console game, beeping annoyingly high bleeps while at it... And as pointed out earlier, Modo's humor had started to run a little short and it was safe to say that the constant beeping wasn't exactly helping his mood to turn better and Modo made a mental note to himself to pitch the idea to Harley to have the voices unmuted somehow.

Modo blinked his eyes a few times, trying to keep the heavy eyelids open while shifting his position slightly, to try and sit more comfortably but his back ached, his muscles were tense and he had started to experience a little light-headedness. All due to the sleep deprivation and the strenuous and stressful lifestyle the Fighters were all enjoying on a daily basis. The grey-furred Fighter let out another loud yawn and shook his head, forcing himself to stay awake. If he wouldn't be wearing a helmet, he would've slapped his own cheek to stay focused as they did in the movies and Modo couldn't help but wonder if that actually helped or was that just another lie the movie industries made...

His mind shifted back to the ginger-colored mechanic and a worried frown appeared on his face. Stoker had told the Fighters that he hadn't managed to contact Harley...or Vinnie for that matter. Modo hadn't said anything when Stoker had sent Vinnie to go with Harley on their mission to check the coordinates to the humans' basecamp, but he had thought of it as a bad idea. Vinnie was still technically a rookie. A rookie who was now responsible to keep their only female member of their otherwise very heavily testosterone-infused family of Fighters safe and the thought alone of Vinnie being responsible for anything didn't really ease Modo's worries, quite the contrary...

Even though Modo trusted their Commander, he still thought that Stoker made a wrong call and he should've sent a more experienced Fighter to go with Harley... But Modo didn't think it was his place to question their Commander's decisions, well not if he didn't give him enough reason to do so. He just wasn't a mouse who confronted others just for the heck of it. Only this time the question had been about a female's well-being, and Harley's in particular whom Modo had started to think as this sister-figure, so he happened to take her wellbeing rather seriously, but so did Stoker as he clearly had deeper feelings for the mechanic even if the older male had tried to hide those said feelings from the others. But, Modo still had the gnawing feeling inside him that something had happened to the two currently MIA, he just hoped that his gut feeling was wrong. It had been a few hours since they've lastly heard from this duo and Modo knew that the reception was always poor on this planet, hours worth of radio silence was not that uncommon here, unfortunately. It didn't mean that one shouldn't be alarmed though...

Modo tried to turn this train of thought that only started to give him slight anxiety, but that was nothing new, he was a sensitive mouse and he felt things deeply, good or bad. He only hoped that they were doing okay and that they had not run into these Earthlings and that these said Earthlings hadn't done anything to them... Modo was forgiving by nature but if anyone ever even thought about hurting the ones he cared for the most... It was another matter. Then, all bets were off.

Modo sighed, trying to calm down his nerves while stretching his neck from side to side. He almost heard his Mommah's voice inside his head which was actually not that uncommon... "Remember, son, negative thoughts only attract bad things!" Right. Well, Modo didn't know if that was true or not but he wouldn't bet against his Mommah's pearls of wisdom...Not anymore that is, he had learned the hard way in his rebellious teenage moments that his Mommah was usually right. About everything.

The grey-furred Fighter let out another big yawn. Maybe he should call the others to bring him a mugful of the strong tea up here... Even if it made his stomach a bit playful...And drinking gallons of liquid made the Fighters go and relieve themselves every five minutes and let's face it there weren't any graceful ways to empty one's bladder in the hard whirling wind...But that earthy-flavored brown muddy stuff that was rich with stimulatives was practically the only reason why the Fighters could keep up and stay awake for days straight...

Modo's wandering mind did a full circle and his thoughts were back on the duo currently missing, or unreachable, and more precisely on the white-furred rookie while still letting his eyes stay on the raging storm. If there was something good with this cacophony of angry nature sounds threatening to deaf him was that at least it was a welcomed change compared to his life's most latest soundtrack that recently had started to be full of annoyingly high-pitched cries and uncontrollable and pointless babble. Yup, Vinnie was something else alright...The Fighters were all raucous and loud but that young Fighter needed to calm the heck down or maybe even be sedated, Modo mused as his mood had started to turn a little lighter. It wasn't that Modo didn't have the patience for all the stupid stunts the kid pulled for he had, but as he had come to realize his patience wasn't as great as Throttle's as that mouse hadn't as much as raised his voice on the newest addition to their little team. Throttle had been almost zen when it came to Vinnie. Which was an accomplishment on its' own since Vinnie didn't really listen to the voice of reason or anyone behind that said voice, or even any other voice except his own, not that it would be too easy to hear anyone else talk when Vinnie was at his most hyper... He was never quiet or still and he was cheeky and disrespectful and lacked all the manners. But he was still a kid and Modo knew that he should've been taking the high road more often than he had been when it came to the young Fighter. Gods knew he had had years of practice with kids as his little niece and nephew had been living under the same roof as he had for as long as he could remember. But to be fair, the twins to Modo's experience had shown more sense than the white-furred male...

Modo's thoughts were been interrupted by the cold wind picking up again and he cleared his throat, as he was momentarily dragged back to the reality from his thoughts, briefly remembering his duties as a guard...But the target finder was still dancing around, beeping happily while at it, telling Modo that there wasn't anything or anyone out there, so Modo didn't feel too guilty for letting his mind wander...

If he was completely honest with himself, it really wasn't Vinnie's fault that his fuse was nowadays a little shorter and more flammable... There were so many things weighing on his mind and Modo was so homesick it hurt to his core. There had been increasingly more enemy activity in the frontiers, so it had been already months since his last visit to the Camp, and it really started to take a toll on his already exhausted mind since usually the visits to the Camp had given him more energy, and hope. And it didn't exactly help that they rarely had the time to even try to make a call to the Camp, let alone to have the good reception to do so...

He had never been away from his family this long, never had he been this long without talking to his Mommah and big sister, or playing with his niece and nephew. This was also the longest time that he could remember that he and his mate Sienna had spent apart since they had practically grown up together as she had been his "girl-next-cave". But he couldn't really do anything about it, he couldn't just leave and go home. But he felt that they all should get a break from all this, from the war... After everything that has been happening, after everything they've seen and witnessed...and done. But the war didn't work like that. It didn't care. It dragged you deeper and deeper into its' dark center...and swallowed you up. The war changed everything, and it had changed them all, maybe even more than they've realized...

The big grey male shifted a little in his place, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all these dark thoughts entering his foggy mind. He cleared his throat and concentrated on the boring scenery again. But just as he had let out another bored sigh, the target finder suddenly stopped blinking and focused on something and that made Modo sit upright immediately as he zoomed into the place or into "something" the program had spotted. A vehicle. Two. Three. And before he had time to even fully comprehend the situation there were dozens of vehicles and Modo quickly got up on his feet and pressed the radio button on his helmet.

"Plutarkians and Sand Raiders! Ah repeat: Plutarkians and Sand Raiders!"

"Copy that, Big Fella'! Rebels, let's start the show!" Stoker's voice echoed inside Modo's helmet who was already rushing down the hillside, sliding down, parts of the hill crumbling underneath his big biker boots, dropping sand and stones to the ground as he tried not to fall from up here to his early grave as there was a long way down... His tired mind and body already forgotten and scattered thoughts pushed aside, and when he got to the entrance of the cave the Fighters rushed past him with their roaring bikes, cheering, and loud metal music blasting through their radios, the powerful machines, these weapons on wheels along with their riders disappearing into the clouds of dust and sand. The party was definitely on. Modo hopped on Lil'Hoss as the AI-equipped bike rode by itself past him and while adjusting himself more comfortably on his ride that already speeded up on the bumpy surface, his fingers brushed the surface of his handguns, checking he had them all with him, securely in their holsters. He turned to give Throttle a grin, who was riding there beside him.

"Let's hit the dancefloor, bro!"

They bumped their fists together.

"Yeah, got my dancing partner right here...!" Throttle smiled and rolled his handgun around his index finger with a wide smile on.

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