Alright, before we get on to the story, I've got some shameless plugging to do. You guys have got to go check out Sewer Slider's series, Vagabonds. Its a BMFM AU, but its so well written that you can't help but fall into it. Seriously, it rocks.

And, much love must go to KLCtheBookworm. Undeniably, the single best BMFM author on the site. She absolutely slams with her series, Wars Are Won by Those Who Dare. Long name, incredible story. Go check it out, you'll thank me for it.

Okay, on with the show.

This story is part of my Shattered, Repaired, Renewed story, a conitnuation of it. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own BMFM, or any characters from the show. Everyone else in this fic are of my own imagination. You can use them if you ask politely.

Chapter 1

Limburger glowered from his chair, only sitting up to throw another dart at his picture of the Biker Mice across the room. The shot landed clean between Vinnie's shoulders, making the Plutarkian grin at the mental image it invoked. But it was just that, mental. And not a single bit closer to his goal of eradicating those annoying rodents.

"There has to be a way," he muttered to himself. "That time I had the grey one under my control seemed to work best, but just his arm wasn't enough to keep him tame. I need more on him. Something he'd never be able to resist. " The fish nearly boiled his own brains thinking. "What does that pathetic mouse treasure? His bike? Uhg, no. No more Martian bikes in the building, we get too many of those as it is without inviting one in. His comrades? Again, no more Martians in the building than absolutely necessary. So then, what?! What could he possibly hold so dear that he would turn against his felonious friends?!"

A thought struck him. "Wait. Oh wait one moment here." A memory came of one of Karbunkle's ridiculously long reports on Martian species and their psychological biology. Something about the family bonds being particularly powerful in mice, to the point that they would be willing to die to protect each other. He shook his head in amazement, how stupid could those Martian mice be? But it would serve to his advantage in this case. All he needed was one of the wretched rodent's family, and the miserable mouse would be licking his boots.

Now who was available? There was that young punk that had broken into the prison camps to rescue that other Martian, Stoker. What had his name been? Ratchet? Ringworm? Rimfire, that was it. No, wait. He was stationed in the Martian resistance's base, too well guarded to be done within budget. And the brat caused almost as much collateral damage as a full grown Biker Mouse. Surely there was some other Martian they could use.

"Karbunkle!" The Plutarkian called.

"Yes, your over-ripe cheesiness?" the scientist replied from the vid-com.

"I have a new plan, dear doctor. A new and devastatingly effective way to get those pesky pests under our control indefinitely. Start looking through your old records," the fish ordered. "From your interesting little experiments in the labs on Mars. That grey mouse had some family go through your lab, did he not?"

"An excellent idea, you creaminess! Hmm, let's see." Karbunkle frowned as he typed into his computer. Thousands of references came up, far more than the demented doctor had thought. And none of them looked like a close genetic match. He scowled, Limburger wouldn't like this. "The Martians keep no last names," Karbunkle said to his listening superior. "If he had any biological relations, it will take me some time to track them down, your cheesiness."

"I don't care if it takes you a small eternity!" The alien shouted. "Any family of his you find are to be shipped here directly, by over-night mail. This plan will be simply marvelous. That wretched rodent will become my willing slave..."


A deserted ally bordering the city park.....

The dizzy mouse stumbled against the wall, shivering in the cold wind. She had no idea where she was. Metal and stone buildings of unfamiliar make surrounded her, with blue, actually blue, sky above. Trees like she had never seen lined part of the road. They reminded her of old movies she's seen, all from Earth. She shook her head to try and clear the blurry thoughts away. Could this be Earth? How had she gotten here? All she could remember were the mines of Sturgeon, Plutark's largest moon, being grabbed by the guards and taken to the ship yards. Everything after that was a hazy mess of images.

The harsh wind blew again, the tattered remains of her clothing not enough to keep her warm. Her fur was patchy in places, worn away by chains and scars, far too thin to give her any protection in the bitter cold. And her chest: gods, her chest felt like it had been split open. The female felt the world swirl beneath her feet, falling to the ground in unconscious sleep. A few minutes later, a ball rolled down the alleyway, a little girl chasing after it. It finally came to a stop, bouncing slightly off this side of the female mouse. The girl slowed as she saw the alien lying on the ground, slowly walking over to her. She saw the antennae, the ears, the fur, and she gasped in wonder. Ball forgotten, she ran back to the playground, calling for her friends to come see.

Two older boys and another girl came running to the alley, disbelief widening their eyes as they saw the alien. One of the boys whistled low. "Wow. And here I thought Megan was telling another big story."

"Kevin!" The other girl protested. "Megan's only four!"

"So?" Kevin muttered. "What now? We can't just leave her here."

"We can't take her back to the orphanage," the girl said. "The adults would freak out."

"Easy peasy, Jen," the other boy said with a cocky smile. "We get her to the back shed and call Miss Charley. She rolls with those other alien guys, she'll know what to do."

Jen stared incredulously. "And just how are we gonna get her there? Carry her?"

Kevin brushed back the alien's dirty white hair. "She's really thin, probably sick. Jen, I don't care how we do it, we can't leave her here. We can't let one of the Bikers' friends be hurt and not help!"

Jen nodded in agreement, thinking hard before looking at the other boy. "Billy, you still got that old go-kart?"

"It doesn't run anymore," Billy said in confusion.

"But it still rolls, right? We can load her up in there and push her to the orphanage," Jen said.

Kevin smiled in approval, making the young girl blush. "I'll help distract the adults so we can get her in. And somebody find Megan before she blabs everything!"


An hour later, at the Last Chance Garage

Charley groaned softly as she heard the phone ring in the other room. Why is it so hard to get stuff done around here? She rolled out from under the truck she was working on and stretched a bit as she walked towards the office. "Hello, Last Chance Garage."

"Is this Miss Charley?" Came a child's voice.

"Yes, speaking," she said in some confusion. Why would a kid be calling?

"We need your help. One of your friends is here at the orphanage, real sick. You gotta come quick."

"Who is this?" She asked sternly. If this was some prank call-

"Kevin DiMacchio," the boy answered. "I'm here at the orphanage, please, you gotta come."

Charley's thoughts whirled. The mice were out confronting the latest villain; they couldn't be at the orphanage. This could be a trap. But what if it was Manuelo? Or Chef Andy? What if some other villain had taken over the orphanage and was forcing the kid to make the call? She came to a decision, grabbing her truck keys, Throttle's spare laser, and the first aid kit from under the table. "I'm on my way, where do I meet you?"

"Circle around back, behind the fence to the shed," he said. "We'll be ready to go."

Thirty minutes later, Charley pulled up to the alley behind the orphanage. She tucked the laser into the side band of her jeans as she came out of the cab, glancing around the area. Everything seemed alright so far.

A young boy with brown hair and wearing a Captain America t-shirt and jeans squeezed out from between two fence boards, hurrying over to her. "Miss Charley?"

"Kevin?" She asked, recognizing the voice from the phone. He nodded, taking her hand. "You gotta hurry"-

"Alright, what is going on"-

--"she's really sick."

"Why did you call me all the way out here--did you say 'she'?"

"Yeah. There's this lady with big ears and fur and a tail, its so cool, we found her in the alley all dirty and messed up. She's in a real bad way, you gotta help."

Charley was flabbergasted. "How--how did you know to call me?"

He shot her a look as he pulled his parka tighter around him. "I'm an orphan, not stupid. We know you and those bikers ain't just playing hero. Something's rotten in this city, and you guys are the only ones that seem to be doing anything about it. And there's a good chance that this lady is one of their friends, so me and my friends brought her in here." He motioned to the shed.

"What's wrong with her?" Charley asked, pulling out the first aid kit.

"She's really skinny, and she's got---I think they're burns on her skin. Er, fur. Whatever. She's calling for people that aren't there too," he said, holding open the boards so she could squeeze through.

"Sounds like she's got a fever if she hallucinating," Charley said. She scanned the yard and main building. "I know you didn't tell the staff about this so," she raised an eyebrow at him, "what exactly did you tell them?"

He smirked. "Hey, what they don't know won't hurt them."

"Good man," she said in approval. They made their way to the back shed, quickly shutting the door to keep the cold out. She gasped at what she saw. It was indeed a Martian mouse, an older lady with what looked to be white hair under all the dirt. Dozens of breaks in her fur showed white scar tissue. She was almost emaciated and shivering under several blankets. The kids had tried their best to keep her warm. A small teddy bear was tucked under the mouse's arm.

"Oh good lord," the mechanic breathed. She hurried over to the female's side, brushing aside the mane from her face to check her temperature. "She does have a fever. I need to get her back to my place." She looked back to Kevin and the girl beside him. "Can you guys run interference for me while I help her into the truck?"

"You bet. Don't worry, I'll keep that bunch of biddies so busy, they wouldn't notice Armageddon!" Kevin said, heading for the house. The girl stayed back and tentatively tugged at Charley's sleeve. "You're gonna take care of her, right?"

"I will," Charley said. "It's a promise." She gently reached around the mouse to help lift her, coaxing her to sit up. The Martian was very disoriented, smiling at the human with glassy eyes. Her voice was raspy when she spoke. "Nitra? Oh sweetheart, you look so lovely in blue."

Charley gave her a friendly smile. "Thank you. Here, do you think you can stand up? We're gonna take you to my home, okay? You'll be safe there." Charley slipped off her coat, sliding it on the thin female's frame. She helped the sick mouse to her feet, gently coaxing her to walk as the mechanic supported most of her weight. The mouse smiled dreamily, "Oh, Nitra, you're so kind. Have you seen your brother? He should be around here somewhere."

Jen came over and took her hand, "We haven't seen him yet, ma'am. Don't worry, we'll take care of you."

The mouse smiled down at the child. "Little Primer! You're getting so big."

The name Primer nearly made Charley stop in pure shock. She knew that name. "You know Primer and Rimfire?" She asked.

"My grand babies," the mouse said with obvious pride. She suddenly frowned in confusion. "Nitra, you don't know who your own babies are?"

Charley thought fast. "I'm sorry, its just been a busy day. Modo's supposed to have them today."

"Oh wonderful," the lady said, her voice starting to slur in fever. "He just loves...the kids...doesn't he..." She slumped against the human's side, unconscious. The little girl tried her best to help, holding open the fence boards as the duo made their way across the yard.

"Hurry," the girl whispered urgently, fidgeting in place as a huge crash came from inside the main building. Charley got through the crawlspace, whispering her thanks to the child for all her help. She glanced over her shoulder as the ruckus inside got louder. "Good lord, what did he do?"

"Knowing Kevin, it involves firecrackers," the girl said, a smile fighting to spread across her face.

Charley shook her head. "He sounds just like the bikers."

The girl's serious face split into a grin as she laughed out loud. "They're his heroes!"