The Thin Ice
Mice aren't mine; you guys know that. This is dedicated to Inuficcrzy and Wolfie Steel. Finally, this dedication goes to you; the reader, for being so kind as to view it.
Last thing: Comments/ feedback are extremely desired. It's the only way I shall become a better writer.
The cold bitter night had been something Throttle had gotten used to a long time ago. To say his childhood had been rough was a major understatement. His cheating, heartless, alcoholic father had walked out when he was six; which had resulted in his mother turning into a shadow of her former self. She had been a loving, gentle, by-the-book lady before her husband had turned to the seemingly infinite bottle of Venusian Dragon whiskey he carried around all the time. To compound the issue; he spouted, in one of his rants at her being useless, that he was now sleeping with a barely legal 16 year old. He walked out 10 minutes after that; shouting into the night that his marriage to her was a sham, and that she forced him into it.
After that night, she began to drink heavily; her old friends began to leave her, disgusted by the utter bitch she had turned into. She had never been a violent woman before; but now she was ready to kill anyone on a whim if she wanted to. What made it worse was the fact that if she wasn't drunk she could be found out of her mind; slumped against the wall; due to a cocktail of massively powerful hallucinogens: long lines of Nacerion and small paper squares full of Benzohektamin. Between her hits; lines and swigs at the bottle, she became increasingly paranoid and violent.
The worst of the lot was her addiction to 7, 3-Kenvario(Mica-hexophalate) pentahydrate; a legendarily powerful drug, originally supposed to be a painkiller for extreme vehicle accidents. Repeated users; not that there were many; had told stories of people dying if more then 2 grams was injected into them at any time. It caused her to see her son as a replica of her cheating husband, due to the brain killing substance flowing through her veins.
Every day after school; and every weekend; Throttle would be beaten seven different ways. Everyone knew, but no-one did anything. He'd had punches to his muzzle, stomach, head, thighs; and everywhere else. His mother had also touched him inappropriately; causing the poor kit to whimper and yelp in pain as she groped him. He'd also taken bottles to the face and back; one time, he nearly had his antennae severed by the flying shards. If he hadn't had the luck of living next to the hospital; he'd have died within an hour.
The gaps between his mother's alcoholism and drug induced highs were few and far between. By the time he was 8; Throttle had taken to barricading himself in his room to just stop the constant abuse; but his mother was stubborn and wouldn't go down without a fight. She'd crash her way through Throttle's weak defences like a hot knife through butter; would frequently abuse him, both physically and sexually, before leaving him on the floor in a ragged heap; his fur stained with blood and his mother's juices.
Eventually; when he was ten; his mother walked out in the middle of the night; no note, or anything. His injuries by now had disfigured him so much; hardly anyone knew it was him. Scars criss-crossed his body; huge ones ran down his back like railway lines. One of his eyes was stuck permanently open; blood caking the fur under it. His fur had gone from it's gorgeous tawny to a disturbing shade of maroon. His legs and tail had been spared a little. There weren't as many lines there. All his wounds hurt; but he couldn't keep going to the hospital now because he didn't have a penny to his name.
As the months went by, the house started to become more and more nightmarish. The memories of every beating and raping he'd received from his parents tainting and corrupting every last room of the fucking hellhole. He was sick to his stomach about it. The entire house stank; the walls were full of holes and most of the windows were still broken from where Throttle had gone through them. He couldn't stay another moment. That night, he packed up everything he had; which wasn't much; and set off, his destination unknown.
He walked; day after day, as long as he could. His mind ticking over in turmoil as he went into damage control. He now had no-one. No family or friends to turn to. He was all alone. He didn't have a dollar to his name; or anything truly of worth. He could have vanished off the radar and no-one would have been wiser. He slowly became thinner and thinner; his skin hanging off his frame.
His situation got worse and worse as time went on. He'd moved from one slum to the next. He'd been the target of several attempted rapes due to his slim frame; the victim of multiple fights and had lost several teeth. He was now skin and fur stretched tight over a bony frame. By nearly anyone's standards, he was unhealthy, but he was still surviving. He'd resorted to stealing food from wherever he could; his fur matted and stained.
The upside of his current madness was that he was gaining some muscle... but his body was eating away at it voraciously. It was barely noticeable that he HAD gained it, because his body ate it so fast. He'd leave fights gasping for breath; his lungs not getting anywhere near the amount of air needed to keep him going. His antennae were lying over his bangs; devoid of anything holding them aloft. His tail hardly moved as he walked; it left a thin straight line in the dust behind him. All the while, he tried his hardest to keep his confident exterior up, but it was no use.
Eventually; the poor, 12 year old tan mouse crashed in a back alley; not caring who or what was around him. He was sick of it all; the abusive family he'd had, the life on the streets he now was living, he just wanted it all to end. He slipped into sleep; then into unconsciousness. When he woke next; he felt warm arms surrounding him... and a less then positive voice. "Gods above, he's beautiful... I can't imagine how tight he'd be..." said a rough voice somewhere off to his left. "I know, Crank... he's absolutely stunning..." said a softer voice from his right. Suddenly; rough hands seized his shoulders as his eyes flew open.
A black furred mouse; nearly 7 feet high was on his left, his body was heavily muscled; and his genitals were no exception. His partner was a rat; 5 and a half feet tall and speckled tan and black. The voices matched the bodies as Crank yanked him into a full nelson. "You're gonna give me what I want, little one..." The black mouse growled as he ripped Throttle's rags of his body. The tan mouse tried to fight back; but it was no use. Even though this was happening; Throttle wondered why the rat was here... then he spied it. A black leather collar around his neck. The speckled rat shook his head, then cringed at the scream Throttle gave as Crank entered him violently.
Pain exploded through the tan mouse's body; his rear unconsciously clamping hard on Crank's length as he screamed into the night. The rough, vicious thrusts started as Throttle struggled against his captors arms; but it was useless. He felt his prostate get bashed by the thick length in him; his eyes closed in pain. His tail wound around the low hanging balls and gave them a sharp yank; hoping to stop this nightmare. All it did was earn him a punch in the stomach and rougher treatment. Eventually, Throttle's cries stopped; all he wanted was for this to end and fast.
The rat watched as his master pounded the poor tan mouse harder; unashamed disgust written all over his face. He hated being forced to watch as his master took these poor souls. Finally; he could take it no more. His tail went searching as he watched. The thin limb locked itself around a solid glass bottle. His master was so interested in taking his new conquest he didn't see it coming. The bottle nailed him dead on the head; the glass shattering and slicing his antennae to ribbons. The roar of pain would linger through the city for minutes as he let Throttle drop to the floor and off his cock.
Throttle gasped in surprise when he heard the glass break and the roar of pain. Seizing his chance; he ran; only to be stopped by the rat in front of him. He thrashed against the arms holding him still, only to hear the voice of an angel. "Please... he won't hurt you any more. I've made sure of it. I'm so sorry for what he's done..." The tan mouse whimpered as the arms gently hugged him. "My name's Usaki; he caught me three months ago..." Throttle's eyes went wide as he gazed over the rat in front of him.
Massive scars criss-crossed the patched fur; deep patches of red dotted their way from his neck to his chest. One triangular ear had been half torn off. Two light scars crossed his face; one of his buck teeth was missing as well as three in his mouth. His legs were thin, there were no lines marring them. His tail had been hacked off halfway along; an ugly open wound still on the end; the bone protruding out. Throttle shivered; his mind still trying to deny the fact he had been raped; tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "If its any consolation; again, I'm sorry..." Usaki muttered as he tried to hide himself from the poor tan mouse in front of him.
Throttle clutched at the speckled rat tightly; just wanting a friend and someone to hold close. Usaki didn't turn away, but instead held the poor mouse tight in return. They stayed the rest of the night like that, silent except for Throttle's soft sobs every now and then, Usaki always rubbing him gently until he stopped. After that, they were inseparable, always staying close to each other to try and keep at least something constant between them.
Eventually, they got up to swapping histories. Usaki's was like his own: Thrown out of his house at age 7, escaped multiple rape attempts and had lived on the streets until Crank had found him. The black mouse had crushed him almost immediately; turning the speckled rat into his slave and sex-toy, but it meant he had food and shelter. All the while; Usaki had felt absolutely miserable, and had been planning to leave as soon as he could; the chance hadn't presented itself until Crank found Throttle. Now that Crank was dead; he had no idea what to do. He knew Throttle couldn't be his new master, he was just too nice to be so commanding.
Throttle was in a quandary. Should he take Usaki along when he moved next or not? He seemed like a brilliant friend and, honestly; his mind wasn't exactly rejecting either gender as mate material. A smile crept over the tan muzzle. "Hey, Usaki... how'd you like to stay with me for a while? I mean, I know I don't have anything, but would y-" Throttle was immediately cut off by the speckled rat impacting his chest and hugging him with all his might, the air completely forced out of his lungs. "Oh Throttle, yes! I'd love to stay with you!" Usaki cried as he looked into Throttle's eyes, then gently kissed him.
A soft gentle sound arose from the two; a cross between a moan and a purr; and to the mouse and rat locked together; it sounded like heaven. Both males pressed closer, wanting to share their warmth; however, air was becoming an issue. Throttle broke the kiss; Usaki softly nibbling his jaw. "Hey, hon... we should move. We can go back to my old place. It may be old and broken; but its a roof over our heads." Usaki nodded, then nuzzled his new mate as Throttle scooped him up in his arms; their tails wound around each other as they set off.
20 miles south-east, and no other issues later; the new couple were standing outside Throttle's former home. The place had not weathered well. Half the roof had caved in and one of the walls had fallen down. The section that remained standing creaked horribly, the walls had rotted away; leaving only the metal frame of the house. Throttle looked away in disgust; ashamed that his new partner had to see the wreck he grew up in; only to feel Usaki's hands stroke his fur. "It's ok, hon... we can fix it! It'll be better then ever!" That beautiful, beaming smile was all Throttle needed to want to start renovating.
Four months and Throttle's 13th birthday later; their job was complete. The house had been restored and strengthened from where it had been originally; the walls had been freshly painted; both of then had snagged jobs that paid well; and everything was going brilliant. Usaki and Throttle were only apart for work; the rest of the time they were at home, lazing around or furiously fucking each other. The pleasure they got from just being together was all they needed; the pleasure from everything else was a bonus in their eyes.
Two years passed; and it seemed to Throttle that Usaki and he would be together forever. He showered his mate with gifts, affection and everything he thought his mate would love. Usaki though; despite loving the showering of gifts and his mate's affection was thinking otherwise. Throttle seemed just too good to be true. He loved being the apple of his lover's eye, but he just felt he couldn't give it back. The tan mouse seemed so alive and joyful around him. He couldn't bear to break his heart; but he knew he couldn't live a lie; so, on the eve of his mate's 15th birthday; Usaki slipped out of bed, without waking his mate; packed his bags; left a note on the table; and vanished into the night.
When Throttle woke the next morning; he noticed the bed was cold. This usually wasn't a problem. Usaki was up earlier then him most mornings; and tended to make him breakfast. However, when he entered the kitchen; he saw the note. He thought his mate had gone for an early walk. The note was far from what he had in mind. The envelope and letter were stained with large tear drops.
"My dearest lover" the note read. "I want to thank you for the two years of love and devotion you have given me. I want you to know that you have made these last 2 years the best of my whole life. That being said, I'm sorry. I can't keep our relationship going. I'm not worthy of such a pure soul, like you. My love; I know you are worthy of a far better mate then I. Throttle; please, do not despair at my leaving you. I can feel that you are destined for something millions of times greater then being with me. My heart will remain with you. Love, Usaki"
Throttle was stunned; his mind screaming that this couldn't be real. He read through the note ten times; determined to see whether it was a forgery; but from what he could tell; it wasn't. He tried to head off the flood of emotion; tried to build a dam to stop it; but nothing worked. He fell to his knees and screamed his mate's name; the echo shattering the silence in the city. Tears began to flow thick and fast from his eyes; as every memory of his beloved Usaki flashed before his eyes; the tan mouse's body curling into a ball as he wept on the floor.
For 6 months after that; Throttle had gone from a blazing sun of optimism to being the black, depressive cloud that killed everyone's mood; no matter what. He felt no worry that a race of murderous stink-fishes intended to go to war with them; instead; he joined them so he could die, and stop all his suffering. He felt like he had no reason for being alive; no reason to continue his miserable existence. For hours at night; he'd lie awake; wondering whether his former mate was alive or not. Every battle he went to; he fought; but not with the heart of a patriot. He fought with the heart of a manic depressive; following orders but always wishing for his time to come. It never did.
A few months later; Throttle began to slowly open up to a few mice around the base. He was polite; but he was still the cloud that brought everyone down. After that; his friends tried every method they knew to make him happy; all their effort was in vain though, because as Throttle's 16th birthday approached; his memories flitted back to Usaki again; the nights they spent pleasuring each other; the quiet dinners in comfortable silence and the times they just spent lying on the couch in each others arms. His friends could tell he had lost someone truly special to him; and it hurt them to see their friend go through this.
Then; on the night of his 16 __th_ ; his friend's bought him a surprise present; a personal radio transmitter/receiver. The smile on his face was small, but noticeable when he opened the box. After everyone left; he gave it a try; scanning the frequencies for anything familiar. As he approached the lower limits of the frequencies; he could have sworn he heard his voice. Frantically dialling back; he was shocked to learn that his former mate's voice was coming out. The signal was scratchy and broken; despite the fact that every other transmission that night had been crystal clear. Throttle deduced that it either had to have been home recorded on a bad medium; like worn out tape or an acetate disc; or transmitted poorly._
"Thr-tle" the message started "I'm so sorr- -ver wanted to hurt you." The recording had jumped; which meant Usaki had recorded this on an acetate disc with very bad adhesive. These discs had been used in the earliest days of Martian radio. They provided very high fidelity; at the cost of being playable only a few times; before the recording wore out. "I- -ted you t- -now that I ha- -prise for you. 3 weeks ago I fo- cave full of diamonds. If my estimate is r-, they're val- -d at fifty million."
Throttle's eyes went wide. There was no way Usaki could have found anything like this. He'd never even contemplated having enough money to set his debts to his friends straight. The message continued. "Th- -le; you must hurry. I d- -ow how long it will remain undi- -ered. You have t- -ese co-ordinates." The recording seemed to improve; as though the glue had managed to remain stuck to the aluminium disc. "17 degrees, 10 minutes north and 133 degrees, 35 minutes west. Good luck, my star, a-" The sound of a loud yelp rang out before the recording was cut off by a scratchy cacophony at of the end of the disc before silence descended. The needle had run into a patch of pure aluminium, then it had kicked the needle away from the recording.
Blood spurted from Usaki's throat as he lay spread eagled on the floor; the needle ricochetting around on the spinning turntable. His new mate/master; Darius, had a reputation for being the cruellest bastard ever born. Darius' 7 foot 4 inch frame towered over Usaki's; the speckled rat caving instantly to the dominant black rat. "You traitorous bitch... you went against my orders... and you just reached strike three..." The black rat let his sentence die as he stared at the corpse on the floor. With no hesitation; Darius plunged the knife back in and open a huge gash from Usaki's collarbone to his waist. The black rat began absent-mindedly pulling Usaki's organs out, arranging them randomly on the floor.
Darius was also known as "The Butcher of Kymera Pass". The Police files were legendary. Over the course of a month; the carcasses of thirty rats were found; 1 on each night. Each one had been stripped of every last organ; the bones gnawed on, or snapped in half; they had no marrow in them. All anyone knew is that after a month; whoever was behind it had stopped. The thirty that died were memorialised and; despite a years worth of searching; the killer was never found. Darius smirked as he began ripping the remainders of Usaki's body apart. He found a bright orange pill in his slave's mouth.
Thinking it was a lolly; he crushed it between his jaws. His breathing began to speed up; short gasps instead of the long pulls he usually took. He unconsciously swallowed; the remains of the pill going down his throat. His eyes went wide as he clutched his neck; his throat and lungs burning like fire. Darius made one last; pathetic choking noise; before he fell forward; his heart stopping in his chest as his face entered Usaki's empty cavity. What he thought had been a lolly, was really a cyanide capsule.
Throttle's mind was in shock. If he got there fast enough; he could be a multimillionaire... but what was at the co-ordinates? Pulling out a map of the Martian surface; he was surprised to find that the co-ordinates were part of the crater of Olympus Mons; the largest volcano on the planet. It extended 15 miles into the Martian sky; yet despite this, the summit was invisible from the edge of the volcano. The tan mouse started to rub his temples vigorously; his mind threatening to spin out of control if he didn't come up with a solution and fast.
A loud tap on his door snapped him out of his chaos induced trance. With a soft growl; he stood and opened the door. Before him stood Stoker; the legendary founder of the Freedom Fighters. Standing about as tall as Throttle, and with a similar build; the two had struck up a solid friendship; despite there being minimal communication between the two. Stoke knew when to give the kid privacy, but he also knew that no-one can hide their wounds for too long. "Hey kid... how's things?" Stoke asked as he sat next to the tan mouse. The room seemed to have dropped ten degrees since he walked in. "Could be better I guess; Stoke... what are you doing here?" Throttle replied; his voice cold and forced as he tried not to explode.
"Honestly; I have two reasons. One; I came to wish you happy birthday... and two; I heard the transmission." Stoke sighed as he saw Throttle's eyes go wide. "I know its not my place to ask; but who was on the other end?" Throttle was silent for a few minutes; his brain working fast to try and straighten out the mess of emotions whirling around inside him. "He... He was... He was my ex mate... he walked out... he said I was too perfect... you know? He was the guy who felt he was never good enough... I just wish he'd stayed" The reply from the tan mouse was tinged with remorse and self loathing.
"Throttle, you know that none of this was your fault. It was his own choice..." Stoke's words died off as he saw Throttle's eyes begin to water. The ageing general mentally told protocol to go fuck itself, and swept the tan mouse into a deep hug; Throttle's arms tightening around the warmth the general offered. Stoke just stayed there; gently rocking the tan mouse back and forth as he cried his eyes out. When he had no more tears; his shaky voice sounded. "Th- thanks, Stoke... I d-" "Don't give me the 'dunno what came over me' crap; that excuse doesn't fly" Stoke scolded gently. "Now; I wanna ask you something; those diamonds... where are we gonna hide them?"
Throttle sniffled softly as he wiped the remaining tears away. "I dunno, Stoke... I can't think of anywhere that'll house fifty million dollars worth... but if I leave it where it is, someone might get it first; and I don't want that to happen..." Throttle's voice died as his mind went to work again. Both mice were silent; their brains trying to figure a way to hide this massive cache of diamonds from everyone's eyes. Brown ears perked up, but then sank just as fast. Throttle caught it.
"Had an idea, Stoke?" Piercing eyes swept over the older mouse as he battled with himself. Yeah, bro...but, its gonna be painful... and we need to know how big those stones are before anything else if this is to work." Throttle nodded, then turned away; his mind in overload. "Tell me... what is it?" Stoke sighed heavily, still wondering if he should tell Throttle or not. "You really wanna know, kid? It's gonna take a lot of time and effort... and I don't know if we have the resources spare..." The steely determination in the tan mouse's eyes spoke volumes. "Just tell me...please Stoke; I gotta know, what is your idea?"
Stoke looked away and grit his teeth, before snorting loudly and turning back to the cold stare of the mouse before him. "The idea I had... was to implant the diamonds. Scan every stone we can; countersink them in your bones, then hope to the gods that nothing bad happens." Throttle looked at Stoker with a mix of shock and revulsion. "Seriously? Implant them into my bones? I mean, yeah; it sounds feasible, but..." Throttle's voice tailed off as he tried to find a suitable counter-argument. "Throttle; I'm not gonna lie to you; there's a very real risk of your bones pushing them out; even if we countersink them." Stoke said softly; gently stroking the tan mouse's back. "I'll admit right now that risk is there; but the reward of keeping them safe far outweighs the risk; don't you think?" There was a very painful silence following that question; both mice thinking hard.
"Alright..." Throttle's voice was tired; scared, but also hopeful. "Let's roll the dice..." A gentle smile etched itself onto Throttle's face as he gently hugged Stoker. "Hey, bro; you know I wanna help you any way I can... let's get to work, kid..." With that; Stoke left. Throttle's mind was now ticking over at the knowledge that his fortune would soon be part of him.
Three days later; Throttle had pulled off the inconceivable: He'd managed to find the entrance to the cave and observe its depths. Sure, he'd nearly gone into shock when he saw how beautiful they were; but then his mind wrenched him out of it when he noticed how FEW there were. Yes, it was a cave; yes, it was full of diamonds... they were as big as his head! After relaying the info to Stoker; he set out with two mice Stoke said he'd like. Their names were Vinnie and Modo.
Vinnie was short for being 15; at only 5 feet tall. He was a powerhouse; a flirter and had a very healthy ego; but past all that, Throttle could tell he had an intelligent head on his shoulders; despite the fact he could act as clueless as a 6 year old at times. Modo, though, was huge. Topping out at over 6 and a half feet at 17. The grey mouse was also exceptionally muscled; but the mouse seemed exceedingly gentle and polite. There was just something about the two that rubbed Throttle's fur the right way, and the feeling felt good.
After introductions had been made; the trio had set out for the cave. It took them three days of hard riding, and very rough conditions, but he was slowly learning more about his new friends; or 'bros' as he had started calling them. They'd accepted it with no hesitation, and were eager to help the tan mouse in any way possible. By the time they reached the summit; anyone who saw them would have sworn they had been best friends for years instead of days. Admittedly the dynamics between Vinnie and Modo were a little skewed; but Throttle refused to let them fight; forcing them both to get along and accept the other's differences.
The search for the cave was frustratingly long; despite the fact that Throttle had explored it only three days before. By the end of the day, all three mice were sore, tired and covered in scrapes. The night was cold and unforgiving. All three mice were shivering around the small fire; Throttle's eyes sweeping all around for anything. Then he found it; a tiny glint very close to them. When his bike's laser's fired; the wall of the crater came crashing down; revealing a hole 3 feet high. Crawling through it was difficult. The tunnel was natural; no supports holding up the roof; but eventually they all ended up in the cave. Throttle grabbed the flashlight they'd bought, turned it on; then shone it at the nearest wall.
The effect was instantaneous. The diamonds acted like giant mirrors; the light bouncing deep into the recesses of the cave. The final jaw dropping sight was when the beam passed through a diamond spire that was jutting out of the cave floor. A colossal rainbow exploded from it; filling the cave to the brim with brilliance. All three mice stood there in shock and awe at the breath-taking sight in front of it. "Oh gods and heavens above..." Throttle breathed in shock. "Bros... I can't do it... I..." Words failed the tan mouse as he crashed to his knees and wept; his mind in awe of how beautiful the sight was. Modo and Vinnie were nearly in tears as well; so they scooped the tan mouse up and proceeded to hug the daylights out of him as they cried.
The only sound that echoed around the cave were the soft sobs of the three mice. They knew this was something they would never see again in all their days. This was a natural masterpiece, that no-one in their wildest dreams could possibly reconstruct. Every stone was where it needed to be to create the lightshow that had bought the three mice to their knees in awe. The trio stayed there for a very long time; just holding each other close and weeping. They had thought that it was just a pile of rocks, ready to be taken away. They were so wrong.
A few hours later; once Modo had accidentally knocked the light away; the group had slowly started to get their act back together. They'd also crawled out of the cave, as air had began to run out due to their breakdown. "Usaki must have really loved you, Throttle..." Modo said quietly. The tan mouse had come clean with his past life; not leaving out one detail. His bros were shocked, angry at Crank; but very sympathetic towards Throttle's situation, as well as Usaki's position of not being worthy of such a devoted lover. After Throttle had radioed in with Stoke, then had gone to sleep; Vinnie and Modo had stayed up long into the night. Eventually, they came to an agreement; then bid each other good night.
The next morning; the three mice began to slowly enlarge the entrance to the cave. All three of their bikes had been equipped with multiple lasers; to scan every last micrometre of the cave; and where the formations were located. Once outside; the info was relayed to Stoker, who radioed back within minutes. "Guys, we need to bring it back. From what I'm seeing, you guys might have discovered the legendary Realm of the Gods." Stoke said; eagerness ringing in his voice. "They say whoever found that is to be recorded in Martian history for finding it. The evidence is certainly pointing to that, and those laser scans are telling me we could move them fairly easily. We might need some help; but its certainly doable."
All three mice were confused; they'd never heard of this "Realm of the Gods" before. "Uhh, Stoke; care to explain? What's the Realm of the Gods?" Throttle said, ignoring the gasp of surprise that came from the other end. "Throttle, I'll explain when you get back; ok? Forget about implanting them. What we need you to do now is to start carefully getting those diamonds out as fast as possible. Our intel says that the enemy is on the move; so we have to get this done. Post 14; out." With that, Stoke was gone.
A week of back breaking labour later; the deed was done. The massive diamond formations were safe under the base. Stoker had met them at the door; and had nearly gone into shock. The surprised shout was enough to bring half the base running; but the victory dance the general was doing blew the notion that he was being attacked out of the water. The brown mouse was nearly in tears. "Guys... you did it... you found the Realm of the Gods! Your names are going down in Martian history for this!" Abandoning all pretence of reserve and command; the brown mouse crash-tackled the trio and hugged them as hard as he could; muttering thank-yous over and over again.
To say that the trio were surprised was a bit of an understatement. No-one had ever seen Stoker so overjoyed before. Stoke nearly had tears in his eyes as he got off his three favourite students. "Sorry guys; but this really means a lot to me. When we get them settled, I'll explain it all, I promise." The brown mouse had said that three hours ago. The stones were now in place; and the light test had proven it. The dark, empty room had lit up just like the cave had when they were in it on the summit of the mountain. The onlookers were shocked silent; and Stoke was crying in joy and disbelief.
The three mice, meanwhile, were lazing around the canteen; unaware of the legendary treasure they'd found. It had been a long week, and all they wanted to do was rest. "I really just wanna go to my room and sleep..." Throttle sighed as he down the last of his current rootbeer. "No battles, no-one disturbing me, then crying when I kick their balls in; just me sleeping for a week." His bros nodded eagerly at the idea. "Sounds pretty good to me, bro." Modo muttered as his eyes began to shut. Vinnie, surprisingly, had remained silent; his head on the table, in his arms.
Throttle gently nudged Modo, then pointed at the white furred hurricane. The grey mouse chuckled softy. "Oh momma, he's so cute when he's asleep." Modo almost immediately blushed when he realized what he'd said, but the same smile that was on his face was on Throttle's; both mice sharing the same idea. "Let's get him to my room. I've got the bigger bed. We can sleep for a week. I doubt that anyone would bother us." The grey mouse just nodded, then wordlessly swept Vinnie into his arms. The white mouse curled into the warmth, a gentle groan of bliss coming from him as Modo carried him into Throttle's room.
The two mice chuckled softly at hearing that soft moan. "Ok, I'll admit right now, that was hot." Throttle muttered as he opened the door, then let Modo go first. After setting Vinnie down on the large queen sized bed; Throttle hopped in next, groaning softly at the soft warmth the bed was offering. Vinnie slowly turned over in his sleep, and buried his nose and muzzle into Throttle's shoulder; smiling gently as he breathed in the tan mouse's scent. Modo hopped in last, spooning close to Throttle as they both drifted into the warm embrace of sleep.
Four days later; all three mice slowly stirred. They all had itchy eyes, roaring stomachs and a couple other complaints. After 'taking care' of their collective issues, the trio blearily wandered into the mess hall; shrugging off the praise that was being heaped upon them by most of the other mice on the base. Yawning and stretching; all three mice subtly eyed each other off; observing each other's bodies, and all three hearts were beating triple time as they grabbed breakfast. The soft chit-chat between the three of them was to disguise the fact that were still staring each other over; each mouse loving the bodies before them... then word came down from Stoker's office; all three mice confirming they'd be there soon.
The walk up to the brown mouse's office was uneventful; but painful. Throttle had, unknowingly, flagged his tail just enough to give the two behind him very teasing glances. By the time they reached Stoker's door; Vinnie and Modo were as hard as rock, and failing miserably to hide the obvious. "Are those blasters in your pockets? Or are you just happy to see me?" Throttle smirked at his two bros, his voice light and playful as he stared at their predicament. "Let's put it this way..." Modo muttered, a slight blush on his grey cheeks. "If we weren't going to Stoke's, we'd make our moves."
The tan mouse chuckled deep in his throat, the sound being pure seduction in audio. He knew his mind had made itself up about what and who he liked; and when he saw his bros, it just confirmed it. They all loved each other; beyond the bonds of friendship, camaraderie and everything else. A deep beaming smile etched itself on the tan muzzle as he raised a fist, mere millimetres away from the door. "Get ready to lose your desire in three...two... one." With that, the tan mouse knocked on the metal that was separating Stoker from his bros. He glanced back at the duo; both their faces twisted as they fought to will their erections away.
The door slid open; and the brown general appeared, looking aged well beyond his years."Thanks for coming, Throttle. I figured I owe you and your bros a bloody long explanation." The tan mouse was surprised as he sat in one of the three chairs in front of Stoker's desk. Even his voice sounded tired. Stoke wandered over to a cabinet, hidden away in a little used corner of his office. "I know you guys are a little young, but honestly, I don't care.." The brown mouse let the sentence die as he pulled out a bottle of rare Mariana Olympus whiskey.
Unlike Venusian Dragon; this stuff had been brewed on Mars, then left to age in the few remaining Unka wood barrels that had been left on the planet. Unka trees had been exceedingly rare, even when Mars was green. Therefore; it had been used sparingly; costing a lot of money. The whiskey itself was a deep, rich brown; much like Stoker's fur. It was also very potent; only ever meant to be drunk in small amounts on the rocks, or with soft-drinks; a drink for connoisseurs and elderly.
The brown mouse pulled out three glasses; filled them completely with ice, then poured in one shot for each glass. After handing the trio their glasses, Stoke filled a fourth for himself; his containing two shots. After sitting behind his desk; all four chinked glasses, then gulped. The three mice burst out coughing and spluttering as the alcohol burned their throats, despite the near glassful of ice. Stoke winced sympathetically as he watched; then coughed a bit at his own double strength drink.
"Ohhh, as much as I love this stuff, the kick it gives isn't fun..." the brown mouse muttered softly as he watched the trio look at him, two pairs of eyes watering. "Alright, Stoke... start explaining. You brought us here for an explanation, now we'd like it." Throttle said; a hard, biting edge to his voice and a sleep deprived, but determined fire in his eyes. Stoke sighed wearily, his brain trying to piece together the legendary tales that had been passed down through his clan for nearly 1,000 years.
"Ok, Throttle..." The brown mouse began. "Millennia ago, when the mice were first made of the sands of the plains..." "The rats of the volcanoes, and the raiders of the Dynamo Sea, we get it!" All three mice chorused; the introduction heard all too often when it came to matters of historical importance. "Get to the meat of the story, Stoke, or we're leaving." Throttle snapped. He hadn't had enough sleep, and it was really beginning to take its toll. "Fine, for gods' sakes..." Stoke muttered as he pushed himself out of his chair and began to pace around his messy office.
"As you know, the Gods of Mars were once mere mortals, who resided at the peak of the four great volcanoes. They were Kenzo, his wife Be'al; their son Wu' Nai and a fourth god; Laika." Stoke said as he strode around his office. "For a long period of time, there was harmony between the Mortal plane, and the godly one. Then, one day, a terrible disaster occurred." Stoker paused to let the message sink in. "For a great while; Wu' Nai had been jealous of his father's power as the King of the Gods. He lead a raid on his parent's dominion; the summit of Olympus Mons."
The trio swivelled around in their chairs; their collective gaze never leaving Stoker's moving form. "Wu' Nai had his reasons to be royally pissed off. He was the god of the dead, and that wasn't the role he had in mind. While the fight was raging high atop the summit of the volcano; colossal thunderstorms, tornadoes, earthquakes and a vicious dust storm covered all of Mars. The fight only ended when Wu' Nai had his head severed; but it came at a terrible price. During his decapitation, Wu' Nai's knife had plunged deep into Kenzo's chest; slicing his heart in half. By the time the dust settled; both gods were dead; the pools of their blood filling the caldera of the mountain; the stain leaving a deep red line on the crater rim." Stoker sighed, the bros trying not to interrupt the long and complicated story.
"After Be'al saw what had become of the two males, she fell into deep depression; then committed suicide by impaling herself; her grief overtaking everything else in her head. Laika, despite grieving heavily for the three other gods, who were now passed on; left a coded message for us mortals to figure out." Stoke took a sip of the water in his glass, his throat was beginning to itch at the vast amount of talking he was doing. "Now, before the shit hit the fan, Mortals and Gods used to interact with each other. They'd meet in a cave, buried in the hillside of Olympus Mons, to offer sacrifices in return for the gods looking upon them favourably. This was known to all races as The Realm of The Gods. No-one survived after they met with the Gods; as Saber Squids ate all those who attempted to return to their clans. To be called to the Gods was a blessing and also your death warrant." Stoker coughed, then sat behind his desk; his three pupils looking mutinous.
"So, what does this have to do with us, or you for that matter?" Throttle asked, the hard edge in his voice back again. "It's a good fairytale, Stoke, but I don't buy it." Two pairs of ruby eyes glared at each other over the void of the desk; a soft sigh coming from the older mouse. "After the fight; Mars fell into turmoil; the three races couldn't get along any-more, due to the fact the gods no longer could keep them in check. Centuries passed; languages changed; and then, one year; a legendary pact was signed. The Pact of Hellas Basin. By this time; three separate writing systems had sprang up. High Common Martian, which is what we use; Elenza Martian; used by the rats, and Gelario Martian, also known as Ancient Martian; used by the Sand Raiders." Stoker let out a cough, then ploughed on; determined to make these kids understand the monumental true story.
"The document is legendary as it is the only record in Martian history that has all three writing systems in it. As time has marched from the days of Ancient Martian; we have lost most of our ability to read it. Hence, today, that we only really understand High Common, and not Elenza or Gelario. Dig far enough into a clan's memories, and you will begin to understand the Gelario script." Stoke said, pulling out a huge ream of paper, then rolling it out on his desk.
Upon said ream of paper; where three alphabets, all printed in long lines, and in large characters. High Common Martian was up the top; then Elenza and Gelario; all following the same pattern. "You can see how our language has evolved..." Stoke muttered as he pointed at the columns; the letters of High Common roughly matching Elenza, and vaguely matching Gelario; the designs becoming simpler as they got closer to the current date. "So; care to finish the story, Stoke?" Throttle asked as he poured over the documents, his mind quickly analysing the other two different, but not entirely foreign writing systems.
"Well, there's not that much more to tell..." The elder mouse said. " After the charts of the languages were put together; we went searching through the records, as far back as we could. One text we found, dating at least 3,000 years ago, had one peculiar phrase show up nearly every third sentence: "The Realm of The Gods". The legends stated, as I said; that this was the meeting place between the mortal and immortal realms. I've been looking for it nearly my whole life; and you three have made a very old dream come true. I will forever be in debt to you, Throttle." The brown mouse swept the tan into a deep hug, tears pouring down Stoker's face.
All three mice were silent as Throttle hugged the ageing general back. "Hey... Stoke? I had an idea..." The tan mouse muttered softly, a gentle smile forming. "Oh? What would that be?" Stoke asked as he let go of Throttle, then sat behind his desk. "Well, we all get pissed, right? So mad, you just need a place to calm down... and your room isn't doing the trick. Use the room we turned into the cave as a personal reflection, and/or chill-out room. I'm sure it'll be used a lot... we just need to find a way of preventing anyone from stealing them..." All three lapsed into silence as they tried to think the new problem through.
"I'll admit right now it seems like an excellent idea; kiddo, but the security issue you just raised is a very valid point. How about you kids head back to bed, or whatever you wanna do, and I'll put this brain of mine to work?" Stoke asked with a grin. He knew the trio wanted out of the room, as fast as possible. The trio stood, then ran like their tails were on fire. As much as they loved Stoker like a father, they couldn't stand to be in his office for any amount of time more then five minutes. The trio headed back to the cafeteria, all three joking and horsing around. Throttle's face had the biggest grin anyone had seen on it in all the time he'd been on base. He seemed to glow with optimism as Vinnie and Modo got into a playfight; the pair rolling around on the floor.
Not wanting to be left out; Throttle dove into the scuffle; eyes aflame with glee as the three mice wrestled; a sizeable crowd forming around them. By the time it was over, all three were sporting bruises and panting hard; but at least they'd burnt off the extra energy. A soft chuckle escaped all three mice when they looked at each other. "So, what are we gonna do now, bros?" Throttle asked as he helped Vinnie up from the dusty floor. "I dunno, bro... hanging out in your room sounds pretty good right now..." The white mouse replied as Throttle began to heave Modo to his feet. Vinnie, of course, didn't bother helping out; so once the grey tank had been stood up, the white hurricane got a solid cuff around the ear that made him yelp and wince. The other two mice chuckled as they traipsed down the hall to Throttle's room.
"Now, if only we could make him make those sounds more often..." The tan mouse's eyes were sparkling mischievously as he eyed Vinnie's firm rump through the jeans he was wearing. Modo grinned at the mental image that was forming; before they tackled the white mouse through the open door to Throttle's room. Three muzzles collided and a furious kissing war began; soft moans and growls of delight echoing from the three as they began to strip each other's clothes off. Fortunately; Throttle had the sense to lock the door before Modo tried ripping his jeans off. With the issue of privacy taken care of for now; the three mice went back to exploring each other; determined to know what they loved most when it came to pleasure. All three mice were now nude, except for their fur; ruby eyes raking each other's bodies; hands rubbing over muscles, nipples; muzzles and genitals; the moans of one of the trio sparking the two others' arousal.
"Bros, bros, bros..." Throttle gasped as a skilled, white right hand rolled his heavy orbs; both muscular, grey hands massaging his rear. "I- I need to ask you guys s- something serious..." The soft moans died off for a minute as all three mice tried clearing their heads. "Y- yeah?" Modo asked as his ruby eyes gazed over the rock hard bodies of tan and white fur. "W- would you guys... wanna be my mates? I- I had an idea... a little after I first met you two... all of his, mated to each other..." Throttle's eyes were half lidded; but the spark underneath them wasn't lust; it was pure, untainted love. His heart was pounding against his chest; and from what he could hear of his bros heartbeats; they sounded very similar...
Throttle stirred out of his daze; his mind slowly processing the information his senses were giving him. The board was quiet; his bros sound asleep. The only light on was a small nightlight Modo knew Throttle wanted left on in case this kind of thing happened again. His eyes swept the board again; before noticing the calendar, which was hanging next to the fridge and the hotplate. The tan mouse shook his head sadly; opened a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured himself 3 shots. Muttering the Prayers of Lovers; he proceeded to down all three of them; then poured one more, and left it on the bar; a tribute to the rat that had made him join the freedom fighters.
Stripping off down to his fur; the tan mouse's mind replayed snippets of his memories, before his conscious mind took over. With a shake of his head, he stumbled towards the bedroom; his heart leaping at the sight of his bros tightly embraced together; Vinnie's head on Modo's chest. The tan mouse snuggled into the king sized bed his two mates were sound asleep in; tightly spooning against Modo as he whispered in the grey ear. "Goodnight, my lovers..."