Disclaimer: I do not own the biker mice from mars nor do I make any money off of this story. It is purely for entertainment only.

"I don't see why we have to stay here on this miserable waste moon to baby-sit these vermin." the Plutarkian soldier snarled to his partner. "If you ask me, they should finish them off like they did the ones on mars."

"I know, but look at the bright side," his partner replied, "at least we get to have a little fun while we're here." He then pointed to a squatter settlement of Martian mice villages. "Let's go scare the wits out of 'em!" The two soldiers then drew their high powered laser weapons and ran toward the settlement.

An elderly Martian male saw the two soldiers racing toward the village. He knew all too well what they wanted. Plutarkian soldiers regularly terrorized Martian villages on this moon, which orbited Plutark. In the past, the moon had been the playground paradise of wealthy Plutarkians, who dubbed it Plutopia. It was once home to lush vegetation and pristine beaches. However, the wasteful Plutarkians had allowed it to become overly polluted. Once it had become a desolate wasteland undesirable for vacations, the Plutarkians abandoned it. They then began to use it as a toxic waste dump and the site of dangerous industrial activities.

When Plutark invaded mars, many Martians were kidnapped from their home planet and sent to Plutopia. Some were captured and sold into slavery by rats and sand raiders. Others were sold by other martians, including family members. This system proved beneficial to the Plutarkians, who needed a labor force to produce their weapons, space ships, digging machines, and steel. Captured Martian mice were forced to work in these factories against their will, producing the very weapons that were destroying their homeland.

The elderly male hurried back into the village. "The Plutarkians are coming!" he shouted.

It was approximately midday, and most Martians were away from the village, working in the industrial factories. Those who couldn't work, mainly the elderly and the sick, were left behind. The conditions in the villages were far from ideal. The Plutarkian government failed to provide the Martians with decent housing, food, or clothing. Many Martians died of starvation, disease, and exhaustion.

"Oh no!" a Martian female named Torque exclaimed upon hearing the elderly mouse's warning. "The one day I stay out of work, the Plutarkians come." "Typical," she said as she slapped her hand against her forehead.

"Torque, where are you?" another Martian female named Harley asked weakly.

Torque rushed toward the back of the small, dimly lit shack that she shared with Harley. Harley was severely ill and was laying on a cot on the floor. She had a fever and was weak. Torque refused to leave her to go to work.

"I'm right here Harley." she answered her friend. "What's wrong, do you need anything?"

Just before Harley could answer her, the Plutarkian soldiers made their way into the room.

"A-ha!" one of the soldiers exclaimed. "See, I told you that we were bound to find some lazy Martians trying to play hooky from work."

"We're not trying to play hooky from anything." Torque replied. "My friend is sick and I couldn't leave her here by herself."

"That's no excuse." the second soldier informed her. "The needs of the Plutarkian empire come first."

"I could care less about the needs of the Plutarkian empire because the Plutarkian empire could care less about the needs of me or the other Martians on this toxic moon."

"It's the Plutarkian empire's fault that most of us Martians are dead."

"Well, I see we've got a wise one." the first soldier quipped. "I guess we'll see how smart your mouth is when we take you and your pal there in custody."

"Yeah, well, I don't think that will happen today." Torque said coolly. "Because," she said just before she punched the first guard in the face, knocking him head-first on the floor, "jail is not a place we want to be right now." The hard concrete floor as well as the force of Torque's blow rendered the soldier unconscious.

"Why you…!" The second guard said as he charged toward Torque but she kicked him in the stomach before he could grab her. She then grabbed his gun out of his hands. "Any objections soldier?" she asked as she pointed the gun in his face.

"Harley, quick, grab the other one's gun before he wakes up!" Torque ordered. Harley, using what little strength she had, rushed over and took the other soldier's gun. "Now give me your keys Plutarkian!" she demanded.

"What do you need with my keys?" he asked.

"It's none of your concern, give them to me!" she yelled. "Tell me or I'll shoot and don't think I won't!"

"Here!" the soldier said as he threw the keys at her. "Thanks." she said. She then walked over and punched him in the face. The soldier fell backward and hit the concrete floor.

"They won't stay out long, we've got to get out of here!" Torque exclaimed.