Biker Mice from mars is copyright to New Entertainment and Marvel Industries. Believe me, if I did own the Biker Mice they'd be out on DVD for everyone to buy, and a new reboot would be out for everyone to enjoy.

However, Danielle "Danny" Aguirez, and any other character not recognized from the original series belong to me. No using without my permission.

Praise and criticism I will accept in reviews. However, only constructive criticism will be tolerated. And when I mean constructive criticism, I mean "I like where this is going, but I think you can improve the situation by…." and so on. Not criticism as in "This story sucks $$ and you can't write to save your life".

And another thing: Since there are many references I want to include but they do not coincide with the timeline, this will be a slight AU. Basically I'll be having this story set around the 2000's. That way I can incorporate modern day technology and television a lot of us are familiar with.

Warning: contains foul language and violence. You have been warned.

Darkness blanketed the sky over the streets of Chicago. With an exception to the occasional streetlight that was still in tact and the few stars that twinkled above, the streets were a pitch black color. Only the desperate and foolish would dare to venture out into these streets at night. For night is the time when gangsters emerge and wreak havoc on all that is left of their city.

However to three teenagers, the danger was of no concern to them. In fact, it was as if the dark and pothole laden streets were natural obstacles rather than dangers. A thrill for the most daring of adrenaline addicts. even existing as they rode across town on their skateboards. One jumped and skidded their board across the handrail of an outdoor stair ramp, the last two following suite. Whoops of excitement escaped their mouths as they rode across town, jumping over everything they came across, from trash cans to the potholes. One swerved his board to the right and then leaped into the air, twirling in a circular motion as he jumped over another pothole before finally skidding his skateboard to a halt in front of a closed video arcade store. He pulled off their red and blue helmet, his spiky brown hair stiff from its earlier confines. A slight breeze blew against his black sweatshirt, decorated with a large red skull with crossbones underneath in the center, and faded blue jeans. However, the boy immediately dismissed the wind as if it wasn't there.

"Now that's how it's done, amigos!" He pulled off his dark blue helmet, the lamp above him showing off the bleached spikes of his hair.

"Hey, no fair Chucho! You cheated! We don't got the boards to do stuff like that!"

The teenager who complained pulled off his black helmet. When he did, his thick curly brown hair and black eyes came into better focus, which he used to glare at Chucho. His outfit was similar to his highlighted tip companion, yet had blue horizontal stripes across the sleeves instead of a red center crossbones skull. Chucho just rolled his eyes as his friend complained and made up excuses for his "victory" over his two friends.

"Oh stuff it, Andre. Whine and fuss all you want, but all it does is prove you're a wimp."

"Those're fightin' words, Ese!"

"Bring it, Homey!" Chucho paused. "Yo, Danny? You alive up there?"

The one called Danny paused from looking up at the night sky, and turned to face the other two skateboarding teens. This one blinked a couple times, then reached up and unclipped the strap of a dark red helmet and pulled it off. In doing so, long uneven black hair fell from on top and cascaded down to Danny's waistline, just touching the dark red sweatshirt on the teen's body.

"Damn; my hair band broke," Danny cursed out loud, reaching into one of the pockets of faded blue jeans and pulling out another hair band, then worked to tie the hair back in a long ponytail. "Maybe I should just shave the whole thing off. Save me a lot of hassle."

"No offense Danny, but the hair's the only way to know you're a girl".

"Shut it, Andre!" Danny yelled, hitting Andre in the shoulder as he laughed.

"Yo Danny-why the space out earlier?" Chucho paused. "Don't tell me you were dreamin' about aliens abducting ya to take on adventures across the galaxy again?"

"N-no I wasn't!" Danny shouted defensively.

As much as she tried to deny it, she felt a flush on her face to indicate her embarrassment. Whenever her friends were fighting, or at anytime the moment allowed her, she would look up at the sky and dream about life beyond her backyard, also known as the street behind her apartment. To be able to see the stars and planets, drifting from one place to another without a care in the world. No one to tell you where to go, what to do…no one to say your lack of worth. To spit in your face just for existing-to up and walk away because one day someone decided that what they wanted was more important than what the people who depended on him or her needed. To betray your trust. Or better yet-to be taken in by someone who would see someone worth taking a chance on.

Was it so bad to dream that beyond the stars, there could be someone to love and care about you?

"Danny, you're the worst liar ever." Chucho wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You know it ain't gonna happen, right? Aliens just popping out of nowhere just to take you out of here, cruising the galaxies and shit like that. Even if there were such a thing, you really think aliens would come all the way to Earth and ask ya 'Hey-wanna live with us and be our protégé?' Shit like that don't happen to rejects like us."

"Hate to say it Danny but Choochoo's right," Andre nodded. "Lookin' to aliens for a family ain't in the cards for ya, or any of us. You're no Peter Quill, and there ain't no alien space traders to sub for crappy social workers."

"I know that," Danny gritted through her teeth, gripping her helmet tighter with her hands. Doesn't mean I can't dream, right?

"Alright guys, enough", Chucho said. "How about we put this all behind us and take our minds off it all with some shoot 'em up games, eh? I call dibs on Terminator!"

"Chucho, last time I checked, the arcade closed over an hour ago," Andre argued.

"Since when did that ever stop us?" Chucho asked, smirking while holding up a bobby pin. "I practically have the keys to the city."

"Five bucks says he gets an electric shock," Danny whispered to Andre as Chucho pushed the bobby pin into the key hole. When she did not hear a "yelp", she blinked. "Funny, usually that always happens.

"Maybe I should've bet then," Andre said. "Could've used the extra five bucks."

"Uh, guys? Something told us someone already beat us here."

After Chucho pushed the door open, the three stared in awe over what they saw. Video game machines were smashed apart, sparks were flying out of the consoles, pool and air hockey tables were overturned. Money changing machines were broken into and robbed of all it contained. A few coins remained and were scattered close by the broken machines. As the three teenagers stepped further into the arcade, they heard what sounded like the stuffing of items into a bag. Curious, Danny crept up the open door behind the prize booth, the glass case smashed to pieces with glass bits scattered everywhere and the cash register broken. She silently climbed over the remnants of what was once the glass display case. She stopped suddenly when she heard mumbling noises and what sounded like movement. She peered into the open door to locate the noise source. When she did, she saw five men dressed in black stuffing numerous sacks with surplus toys and money from inside a broken down safe. One had blonde hair with a black bandana around his forehead.

Danny decided that it was time to leave. If she was caught, it could only be assumed what they would to do her and her guy friends. When she made a move to turn and leave, her shoe made a squeaking sound. She stopped suddenly, and winced at the noise and her mistake.

Crap! She mentally cursed.

That noise caused the noise of movement. She slowly turned her head. She knew that she was caught, but that not stop her from doing so. Danny knew in her head that she should be running for her life, but she couldn't bring herself to move her legs or even scream. Perhaps it was part of her curious nature, or her defiant arrogance. Either way, her need for self-preservation did not kick in. When she turned over, she got a better look at the robbers. As she noted earlier, there were five. One of them was a blonde, with a bandana tied around his forehead. He did not look very tall; about five feet and ten inches tall. She could not tell anything else, because the room was not lit up. But from what she could tell, he was wearing a basic leather jacket with black jeans. Another man was black with thick dreadlocks. The third man was an Asian, with spiked hair bleached blonde. The fourth was a Hispanic man with a goatee, while the fifth was another Caucasian: shaved bald with a green Mohawk, and a small rattail on the back of his head. Just as the blonde was, the other four men appeared to have been dressed in leather jackets and black jeans.

"Look at what we got here," one of the gangsters smirked. "Can't let anyone tell the cops we've been here, have we?"

"So I guess there's only one thing we can do," another gangster smirked, pulling out a crowbar from behind.

Suddenly gaining movement in her mind and body, Danny grabbed the nearest object she could find: one of the broken emptied cash registers. However, she found that the object was too heavy for her to lift up. Instead she grabbed the handle of the sliding compartment where the money was kept. She pulled out as fast she could and hurled it at the oncoming gangster with all of her strength. He instantly ducked, his face just narrowly missing the flying object's path. The metal apparatus smashed onto the floor with bits of metal scattering everywhere. However, the scattering of metal debris caused the gangsters to scramble, giving Danny the distraction she needed to race out.

"SCRAMBLE!" she shouted to her two guy friends. "GET OUTA HERE NOW!"

Not needing an explanation, Ricky and Zack grabbed their skateboards and raced out of the arcade as fast as they could. Danny dropped her skateboard onto the pavement and jumped onto it once her four-wheeled device started to pick up speed, using her left foot to push the contraption faster as she struggled to set her helmet on her head. She turned her head back, and immediately regretted her decision. Four men, clad in black, jumped onto motorcycles and began to follow her. She looked around frantically as she skated, searching for both her guy friends and a way out of danger.

"Andre! Chucho! Where the hell are you guys?!" Danny desperately screamed.

"Go left!" she heard one of the boys shout. "We'll meet up when we ditch 'em all!"

Quickly going left, Danny became face to face with a large gate. Hearing the motorcycles getting closer, the young girl quickly stuffed her skateboard into her backpack as far as it would go, then started to climb the gate. When her right foot stepped onto the wiring, she lost her footing and her leg slipped. Danny quickly grabbed onto the top of the gate to keep herself from falling, biting down on her lower lip to keep herself from screaming in pain. When she looked downwards, she noticed a thin yet long vertical rip in the front of her jeans. Blood covered the ripped cloth of the denim material and trickled down her leg and onto the concrete pavement. A small pool of blood formed on the pavement below her leg as Danny fought to climb up the rest of the entrance. Just as she was halfway over the gate, she turned her head. She noticed that the gangsters had turned the corner and were on her tail. Her eyes widened when she saw that. She quickly jumped over the fence and pulled her skateboard out of her backpack. As Danny board landed on the pavement, her feet landed on the wooden material as she skated off to where she hoped to find Andre and Chucho. She briefly screamed when she heard the motorcyclists crash through the wire gate, trying to gain speed on her.

"ANDRE! CHUCHO!" Danny frantically called out. When she got no answer, all she could do was skate faster. Dammit, my leg are giving out! And I think I feel blood staining my board! GROSS! Danny struggled to keep her footing on the board. She felt pain shooting through her legs. She was running out of energy, and she knew it. I can't out-skate these guys forever! I need to find some open room, and fast! Just then, she noticed a huge grassy area, with a field and stands in the center. Quiggley Field! Of course! Now I just need to distract these Cabezas de güevos while I head over there¼

Stopping quickly, the teenage girl quickly grabbed her skateboard from the ground and used it to smack a row of trash cans on a nearby street corner. When the oval-shaped wood violently touched the silver cans, the cans fell and rolled onto the street with the contents inside littering the pavement.

Satisfied with her work, the young girl quickly jumped onto her skateboard and used her left leg to cause the wheels underneath to start moving. Once she had enough speed going, she set her left leg back onto the board. She quickly jumped over a pothole on the street and started gliding down the street as a downward hill came where the pothole separated the level street and the hill. She smiled to herself when she heard the crashing of vehicles, followed by complaints of injuries and swearing.

Yes! That should buy me at least ten minutes! Danny thought to herself as she jumped a smaller pothole on the street. She looked up ahead and saw the entrance to the Quiggley Field stadium. Sweet, sweet sanctuary! I'm almost there!

When Danny got to the Quiggley Field entrance, she discovered that the gates were locked. However, that meant nothing to the teenage girl. She grabbed her skateboard and quickly shoved it into her backpack once more. Her hands free, Danny then jumped up and grabbed onto the wiring for support. She quickly scrambled up the wired gate and jumped over to the other side. Once Danny was on the other side of the gate, she quickly ran to her left side to search for protection from her stalkers.

Nearby on Quiggley Field, the field lights were on and centered in the middle of the field. Three figures were enjoying themselves in a game of football in the lighted field. However, unlike with most people, these three were playing their game with motorcycles. A football flew in the air, spiraling as it slowly descended to the ground. One, with a small yet muscular build, revved up a red motorcycle and sped towards the football slowly descending to the ground. Suddenly, the red racing bike jumped up into the air. The light reflected the silver cylinder objects inside the green bandoleers across each side of his chest. Keeping one of his arms on the handlebars, the motorcyclist used his free hand to grab the descending football before making his bike summersault as he descended to the ground.

"WOOHOO!" he shouted, removing his helmet allowing the lights on the playing field to shine on his face, basking in the glory. However, what the lights also made noticeable were his physical features. Instead of a human face, his face was shaped like a mouse, decked in white fur, red eyes, a metal mask covering half of his face and antennas popping out of his head. "Am I the best mammajamma in the universe or what?"

"'Or What' is what we figure," another biker joked, taking off his helmet as well. Like his fellow friend, his face was also shaped like that of a mouse with antennas on top of his head. However, unlike his fellow friend, his fur was a smoky gray color with one eye covered with an eyepatch, complemented by two gold hoop earrings on his left ear.

"You're just jealous that I caught a pass that you couldn't," the white-furred mouse remarked. "Face it, Modo. I'm the best of the best, and you just can't handle it," he concluded, sticking his tongue out at his taller friend.

"Oh really," Modo snorted in amusement. "Care to put your money where your mouth is, Vin?"

"Vinnie, Modo, enough," said another biker, named Throttle. Unlike his other companions, his face and body was decked in brown fur, with his eyes covered by black and green shades. He took off his helmet and let his long hair fall to his shoulders. He did not want a fight to break out again, even if was just a friendly brawl. "The last thing we need is a blood brawl between buds, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so Throttle," Vinnie half-heartily agreed. "But I'm still the best of the best!"

"Right," Throttle agreed, the sarcasm heavy in his voice. "You just keep fooling yourself into thinking that, Vincent."

Before Vinnie could open his mouth to remark, the sounds of breaking glass could be heard from across the field. The three Martian mice looked back to where they believed the sound had come from.

"Break-in?" Modo wondered out loud.

"No Shit, Sherlock," Vinnie grumbled. "What else do ya think it could be?"

"Guys, not now," Throttle pleaded in a gruff demanding voice. "Let's check it out."

Danny picked herself off the cold dusty floor and quickly brushed all the pieces of glass off of her sweatshirt and jeans. Some pieces of glass cut through the exposed skin on the rips of her jeans, but she ignored the pain it caused her. She then crouched down and quickly crawled underneath the announcer's desk, her palms pressing against more broken glass and other particles on the ground.

When she finally got under the desk, she pulled the chair in front of her and placed her backpack between the chair and herself in hopes of being able to cover herself. She hugged her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs, trying her hardest not to breathe loudly. Her mind was spinning and her heart was racing. Sweat was beading down her forehead and she felt liquid running down her legs. When the teenage girl looked down, she saw fluid running down the cuts of her exposed skin. She pulled some of her sweatshirt sleeve down, quickly wiped away the blood, and pressed her left forearm against the cuts to stop the bleeding. She pressed the digits of her right hand to her forehead in hopes of stopping the throbbing pain her head.

Gotta think, gotta think, Danny thought in her head. First, I have no idea where Chucho and Andre are. Second, I got gangsters on my tail because of what I saw. Finally, I can't stay here for very long. Quiggley field ain't exactly the best place to lay low. Those guys will find me here soon. What will I do when they do? They have clubs, crowbars and brass knuckles! All I got is my old switchblade and skateboard. Well…comic heroes faced scarier than this all the time. If they can then I-

All that Danny was thinking was suddenly lost in the flurry of footsteps, followed by the kicking of the announcer's chair. Before Danny could catch herself, she let out a scream. One with dirty blonde hair instantly crouched down and saw her. His mouth gradually formed a snicker. He grabbed the back of her sweatshirt and dragged Danny out of her hiding spot and held her squirming figure still. She vainly struggled to free herself from her captor's grasp, but it was of no use. The blonde grabbed the security strap around her chin and knocked it aside. Somehow, the action caused her other hair band to come undone, resulting in her long black hair cascading down from her head and down to her waist.

"Gotcha!" One with a goatee gloated at Danny, but then blinked. "What the-"

"Holy crap!" cried out one with bleached spiked hair. "He's a tranny! Why is this country filled with freaks?!"

"Dumbass! It's not a tranny, just some runt girl wearing guy clothes."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"NO THEY AIN'T MORON!"

"Doesn't make a difference," a taller one with a ripped jacket, presumably the leader, said as his captive tried to release herself from his grasp. He just watched her struggle futilely in his grip, laughing. "Did you honestly think you would've been able to avoid us, hoe?"

"Who wants to have the honor of being the first to pummel her?" another asked, pulling out his crowbar. "No volunteers? Okay then, how about I start?"

"Wait!" the blonde demanded as he grabbed the crowbar from his partner's hands. "I have a better idea."

"Better? What can be better than beating up someone?"

As the group began to argue over the best method to take care of their witness, Danny used the opportunity to strike. Stomping on her captor's foot, she used the spare moment she had to grab her switchblade from the kanga pocket of her sweatshirt and flipped open the blade. She then went into a fighting stance, blade pointed out.

The gang laughed at her battle antics. They pulled out their crowbars and applied their brass knuckles. Some pounded their fists into open palms, others doing the same with their knuckles.

Refusing to be intimidated, the young girl charged at them, pointing her knife at them. However, a thug with blonde hair grabbed her wrist before she could do any slashing. Danny quickly kicked the man in the lower regions, then proceeded to attack her other attackers. Unfortunately, Danny soon realized she was outnumbered and two other gangsters grabbed her by her arms, holding her in place and pressing their feet onto each of hers to keep her from escaping again.

The blonde took a blade out of his left boot and pointed it directly at Danny's chin, then quickly brought it down, making a large slit in the center of her sweatshirt. Her facial expression soon turned to that of frantic and scared animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car once she realized what was about to happen.

Ohmygodohmygod! I'm gonna be raped! Danny thought frantically. No! This can't be happening!

"THIS is what's better than pummeling little chicks, boys," the blonde smirked. "Screwing them."

Before Danny could think of anything else, she felt the cold steel of the blade of the blonde's dagger against her neck. She felt her heart racing as the blade was pressed closer to her skin. It was not pressed hard or deep enough to make a cut, but it was enough to make the thug's point clear to her and his colleagues.

"Now if you don't want a deep smiley going across that pretty little neck of yours, I suggest you keep that trap of yours shut," the blonde smugly said. "Where to start? Shall I sample the goods, or just skip down to the main course?"

"What about us?" said a man with slick black hair with bleach streaks. "When do we get to have a go with the midget?"

"Easy boys," the blonde leader assured. "We have all night, and I would never consider not sharing with you guys."

"Pity. We're not in a sharing mood."

The blonde thug stood up suddenly, surprised by that voice. He did not recognize who that deep baritone voice belonged to, and his fellow thugs did not know who spoke up either. Before the blonde could say anything, do anything, or even wonder who had just spoken, a hand grabbed him by his neck and lift him up high into the air. He emitted choking sounds as he struggled to breathe. His fellow companions stared up for a moment, and in a flurry of screaming and fear, they released Danny and quickly scrambled to get out as fast as they could. At least, that is what they attempted to do. Once they reached the window, the attackers stopped dead cold at two men dressed in leather, their faces covered in the most unusual bike helmets. Before they could utter a scream or any sort of sound, the two helmeted strangers brought their fists back and swung them forward, hitting two square in the center of their faces. One fell backwards to the ground while the other literally flew through the air, knocking down three others. The members that were still standing looked on at their three attackers in a mix of awe and fear. The tallest of the three, the one dressed in what looked to be a skin-tight gray shirt underneath a chest protector briefly spun him in the air as though her were a rag doll and forced the blonde to look him straight into the eye. Even though the man's face was covered by his helmet and the purple visor over his face he was still a terrifying sight for the blonde.

"Care to tell us what exactly you and your friends were doing?" the blonde's captor asked, his right eye glowing underneath the purple visor.

"We were, uhh¼that is, we-"

"I think I can fill that in for ya, little man," said the helmeted biker donned in a leather vest said as he walked over and stood by his friend. "You were just about to leave, weren't you?"

"Uhh...y-y-y-yeah! That's it! We were just about to leave; that's exactly what I was trying to s-OOMPH!"

After he fell onto the ground, he looked up at the snarling face of the taller helmeted stranger. He quickly scrambled onto his feet and ran out the window, screaming slightly in fear. His friends quickly followed suit, pushing and shoving each other to get out of what they believed to be harm's way as fast as they could.

As the roaring of motorcycles sounded off from far away along with footsteps of others trying to catch up to their comrades were sounded, the three helmeted bikers couldn't help but laugh heartily.

"Don't be a stranger now!" shouted the stranger donned in green bandoleers and a maroon bandana, then laughed. "That was fun, huh Bros?"

"'Don't be a stranger'? No offense, Vinnie, but that wasn't one of your better lines yet."

"Yeah, well-aw hell, forget it," Vinnie grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

"Did you get stumped?" the stranger blinked behind his helmet, then laughed. "The world really is coming to an end."

"You know, Throttle, you can be a really big pain in the tail sometimes."

"Trust me, Bro," Throttle scoffed. "There is a big pain in the tail here, but it sure as hell isn't me."

"Bros, I think we have other things to worry about right now," Modo said. He went down on one knee and looked at the teenage girl before him. "You alright, Little Lady?"

Modo looked down upon the young teenage girl before him, sitting on the cold concrete floor with her legs sticking out and her arms behind her pressed to the dirt-covered floorboards. Her body structure is thin and lean, much like the build of an average girl. He guessed by the size of her body, she was between the ages of twelve and sixteen. Her hair was long, black in color, the tips reaching down to her waistline. However, her hair was also choppy and uneven, looking like it had not been washed and trimmed in weeks. Along the hairline were small little bumps which the tall biker guessed was acne. Her face had two slightly narrow eyes in the color of a dark brown, which almost looked black. The teenager's nose curved downwards until the tip made a slight inward arch downwards towards her thin, slightly pinkish lips. Her red sweatshirt was cut in the middle, revealing a black top underneath. Her dirty blue jeans were covered with holes, barely leaving any material on her legs, minus the black kneepads covering her knees. Her left hand was covered with a black fingerless glove, while her right hand was bare.

She stared at him for a brief moment, looking dazed and confused. She brushed a few strands of her long black hair out of her face to get a better look at the strangers who saved her life. Quickly, she reached behind her and grabbed her fallen pocket knife. She pointed it at the taller stranger kneeling before her. Her wrist shook as she pointed it at the stranger, so she found herself having to hold the handle with both hands.

"Don't come any closer!" she shouted.

Modo quickly stood up and backed away slightly, holding his hands out in self-defense. The one dubbed Throttle put his hand on the big man's shoulder, patted it slightly, then knelt down in front of the raven haired girl.

"Kid, we're not gonna hurt you," he assured her. Must still be fired up by what happened earlier. Can't really blame her.

"Yeah sure, and I'm Peter Quill!" she scoffed. "You think I'm stupid or something?"

Not to mention mouthy, he thought to himself.

"More like 'ungrateful'," Vinnie grunted. "Seriously-is this how you thank everyone who does something nice for ya?"

"Bro, let me try again." Modo went down on his knee again. "Kid, I promise you. We're not here to hurt you. We just want to help you. Can you tell us your name and why you came here?"

The young girl just sat there silent with her pocket knife still pointed at the stranger before her. Her mouth was sealed shut and her eyes glared at him. He gave an exasperated sigh.

"This is gonna be one long and painful night."

"I guess I'll get the ball rolling," Throttle sighed. "I'm Throttle, the guy kneeling in front of you is my bro Modo, and the one behind me is my other bro-"

"Vinnie Van Wham, the Velocity Atrocity and the best mammajammer this side of the asteroid belt!" the one dubbed Vinnie declared, hands on his hips with his chest puffed out proudly. "And the damn best good-looking one out there; can't forget that."

"And has biggest mouth to go along with it," Modo teased, standing up.

"I'd have to agree with him on that," Throttle smirked.

"You're just jealous that I'm the better looker and the better rider," Vinnie argued.

"Really? Who fell from his bike last week while popping a wheelie?" Throttle asked.

"Who tripped yesterday?"

"And wh-"

"Aw shaddup!" Vinnie said, mock-glaring at his bros.

Before more words could be spoken, the three turned and looked at the young girl. Instead of glaring at them and having her knife pointed at them like she was earlier, she was smiling. More than smiling; she was laughing at them. Knife dropped once again, she wrapped her arms around her waist and leaned over while laughing. One hand smacked the floor while she laughed.

"You three are funny," she managed to say between laughs. "S-Seriously, take your act on the road."

The three guys looked at each other for a moment, shrugged their shoulders, then smiled.

"I'll take that over the glare, right Bros?" Vinnie smiled.

"Definitely," Modo agreed, turning his attention back to the teenager before him. "So, do you have a name, Little Lady?"

Danny bit her lip for a moment before she decided to say her name. Modo could tell that she was hesistant, and couldn't blame her. On one hand, she hardly knew anything about him and his bros except their names. However he could tell she was also considering what had just happened. If they had not arrived, she would have been raped, beaten up, and possibly killed. If they had wanted to have their way with her, they would have done so already. Finally, they seemed genuinely concerned for her welfare. That should be a welcoming consideration for her. She took in a heavy breath, then looked at his face with her dark brown eyes.

"D-Danielle. Danielle Aguirrez. Everyone calls me Danny."

"Danny," Throttle repeated. "Cute name, for a cute girl," he smiled, ruffling the hair on the top of her head.

"Though I'm definitely the good looking one here," Vinnie said smugly, leaning against the wall of the announcer's box and admiring his fingernails.

"Vincent, for once in your life get over yourself," Throttle chided. He turned his attention back to Danielle and ignored another one of Vinnie's glares. "Okay, Danny, what brings you to Quiggley Field?"

"My friends and I saw those guys robbing an arcade, and they chased us around to make sure we wouldn't rat them out to the cops. We split up to make it harder for them to catch us…guess they decided to go after me only 'cause they thought I'd be easier to take down. I ran here thinkin' I'd be safer." She paused for a moment. "Definitely didn't go the way I thought it would."

"The usual "Wrong Place and Wrong Time" shtick, eh? This happen to you a lot, Kiddo?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Danny snorted. "Since we're doing the whole '20 Questions' game here, I get to ask the next one." She pointed at the three. "How do you hide those tails you got from everyone?"

"WHAT?" the three asked in unison, obviously shocked.

"Wh-what makes you think we have tails, Little Lady?" Modo asked, slightly nervous.

"Because I saw something moving behind you, swishing back and forth like a cat's tail, and-Dude, I just saw it again!" Danielle pointed at Vinnie.

"Girl, you are so on dope!"

"Am not!" Danny stood up and pushed the sleeves of her red sweatshirt. "See? No veins from pushin' that stuff up! I'm clean! And I'm know I ain't insane. You got a tail. All three of you. So know you ain't from this world."

Modo looked at his bros. Throttle gave a weary sigh. He knew their secret had been discovered by the teenager before him. He was sure Vinnie knew too. He looked outside for a moment to see if anyone was outside, then proceeded to remove the strange helmet covering his face. Vinnie and Modo followed suite, the sound of what was apparently a pressurized hiss filling the announcer box. When their helmets were removed, Danielle blinked at what was before her. Her mouth hung open, her voice struggling to regain itself.

"No…way. Giant humanoid mice. With red antennae, biker clothes, and bodies that would give a Kryptonian an inferiority complex," she breathed softly, the only words her voice could force out. "Alien Mice…this. Is. So. AWESOME!"

"…wait, what?" Throttle blinked behind his glasses.

"Wait…you're not terrified at seeing three alien mice-over six feet and pure muscle-right in front of you?" Modo blinked.

"Are you KIDDING me? This is the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!" Danny's grin got wider and she jumped up and down with joy. "This is a dream come true! I knew we couldn't be alone in this universe! I mean, we got nine planets in our solar system, and I know there's a bunch more out there. Of COURSE we'd have aliens nearby! This…this is so awesome! Way, WAY more awesome than awesome! This is…oh wow! I can't put it in words."

"Is it normal if I'd rather have her screaming like a horror movie victim?" Vinnie whispered to Throttle through his teeth.

"Oh wow…all of my sci-fi fantasies are finally coming true! So, when do we leave?"

"…leave? Leave to where? Your place to bring you home?" Modo scratched the top of his head.

"No, to your spaceship! To cruise the galaxy in search of adventures and fighting intergalactic crime lords and stopping alien overlords hell bent on ruling whatever galaxy they want! Duh!" She paused for a moment. "Oh wait…we'd have to get my friends Chucho and Andre first. Then we can start our intergalactic adventures!"

"Uhhh…." Throttle looked back at Modo and Vinnie, both of whom looked as confused as the tanned mouse. He adjusted his glasses then looked back at Danny. "Can you give us a few minutes, Kiddo?"

"Okay sure. Take all the time you need. Not going anywhere." Danny sat down on the announcer seat.

Modo felt Throttle grab his and Vinnie's wrists and pulled them outside of the announcer box. When he closed the door, he turned back to his two friends. Since the room was dark, he was able to take the glasses perched on his face off and slipped them into his pocket. This was a difficult situation, and Modo could sense that. After all, this particular circumstance was not something any of them had experience in dealing with. This wasn't something they could blow up, shoot at, or punch to solve. No, this was a very delicate situation they were in. First they had a teenage girl who instead of being scared at seeing alien mice, got excited. While that was peculiar, in a way it was refreshing that she wasn't scared. But then came her expecting that she was going to be recruited by them to help fight in an intergalactic war, or join them in random adventures. It was clear she was by no means a normal human teenager. Throttle cleared his throat, making Modo snap out of his thoughts and pay attention to the present once more.

"Okay, before I say anything else, anyone have any idea what the hell she is talking about?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Bro," Vinnie answered, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm gonna say too much pot. I mean, you can't make this stuff up! I mean, what alien would drop by just to grab some random human to help them fight evil in whatever galaxy they're on their way to? Seriously-where'd she get these crazy ideas from?"

"Comic books," Modo answered. He noticed Throttle and Vinnie looking at him. "Think about it Bros. A human being picked up by aliens, traveling from one galaxy to another, and fighting crime and evil through there? This sounds a lot like the plotline of a lot of Earther picture books we see kids and teens buy and read. She thinks this is her comic fantasy come to life."

"Or one of those campy earth cartoons where the heroes include humans in stuff they really shouldn't be. Especially if they're under eighteen and don't know how to use a firearm."

"Well doesn't this just suck," Vinnie grumbled. "We meet another human female, and not only is she underage, but she's a comic book geek. You know much this would drag down our macho rating if we let her stick around?"

"And there's the bigger issue Vincent," Throttle frowned at his younger bro. "Being involved with us would put her life in danger."
"Well…I figured that part was obvious," Vinnie smiled sheepishly.

Throttle sighed irritably, and ran a hand through his hair. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. As much as it hurt to do, there was no other option. They would have to tell this girl that their saving her was not to recruit her for their team, and not indulge in her fantasy of intergalactic travel and heroics. Question was, who would be given the difficult task of crushing her dreams? It was obvious Vinnie should not be responsible for it with his notorious "foot-in-mouth" syndrome, and Modo knew he would give in because he couldn't bring himself to hurt children, either physically or emotionally. That left the difficult task for Throttle to do, as usual for the leader. He slumped his shoulders, as if knowing it was expected of him.

He turned around, grabbed the doorknob, and opened the door back into the announcer box. Danny was still sitting on the announcer's seat, looking at all of the buttons on the box. She pressed one randomly, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. The power to the room was cut after the stadium closed. It seemed she knew that, but just wanted to press them to fight off boredom. Throttle cleared his throat to get her attention, but it seemed to have no effect. She continued pressing the buttons on the announcer box. Throttle walked up, grabbed the back of the seat, and turned her to their direction. She blinked, and looked up at him.

"Oh, you're back," she said nonchalantly. "Yeah…it was too dark to read, so I decided to keep myself busy with the radio."

"Yeah, we noticed," Throttle answered. "Listen…about you wanting to come with us…"

"Yeah?" Danny stood up, her eyes lighting up and a large hopeful smile plastered on her face.

"Well…" Throttle rubbed the back of his neck when she looked up at him. This was going to be harder than he thought. "The thing is-"

"We're stranded here!" Modo suddenly interjected.

Everyone looked at Modo suddenly. He paused for a moment, then continued.

"We crashed here a few years ago, and our spaceship is beyond repair. Engine is busted, life support is gone, pretty much everything is destroyed and Earth's technology isn't compatible with our own. So we have no way of getting back in space for the time being. So…I'm afraid space travel is not in the cards for anyone right now."

Throttle and Vinnie shot Modo a look. It wasn't a complete lie; since their crash landing on Earth, their space ship has been ripped apart and used for different purposes-shields for their bikes, protective armor for the Last Chance Garage, and other intentions. It was obvious Modo also wanted to spare the young girl her feelings, and they couldn't fault him for wanting to do that. So he was sure he'd be spared a lecture from them. He just hoped their look wouldn't give away to Danny that he was making up excuses to spare her feelings from the truth. He looked back at her, and she had a pondering look on her face, as if to process all she was told. The big smile that was plastered on her face shrank, turning to a pout as her brown eyes dulled in disappointment. She sank back down onto the announcer seat.

"Oh…" Danny said simply. "Yeah…can't travel in a busted space ship. Makes sense I guess."

All of them breathed silent sighs of relief. So far it seemed that Danny believed Modo's story about their irreparable space ship. Not that it wasn't true, but it seemed she didn't suspect there was more to it than that reason. That was all that mattered. Perhaps it would be easier to get back to where she lived after all.

"Besides, if we took you with us on these space adventures, your folks would get really worried about you," Throttle said, a hand on her shoulder.

"Speaking of which Bros, we better bring this kid back home to her momma," Modo added. "I'm sure she's worried sick about her daughter."

"Seriously?" Danielle asked. "After what just happened earlier, you're seriously gonna take me to a graveyard?"

The Martian Mice blinked at each other, then stared down at Danielle with blank looks across and eyes wide. Several questions about the teenage girl before them went through their minds, but two in particular caught their attention: why would Danielle only assume that her mother was worried about her? And why would she comment about visiting her mother in a graveyard? Either she had the most unusual sense of humor known to anyone, or she did not have a mother. They hoped it was the former.

"Why would say something like that, Danny-girl?" Throttle asked, incredulous. "That's very disturbing."

"Maybe so, but it's the truth," Danielle said plainly. "It's was either that, or just come out and say she's dead. At least my way sounded funny."

The poor child, Modo thought sadly. No mother in her life. Must be hard for her, especially at her age.

"No, that was just disturbing," Vinnie argued. "Not to mention wrong."

"Whatever."

"Well, what about your father?" Throttle asked, wanting to get back on to the main topic at hand.

"Dunno where he is, and I don't give a damn."

"It's not ladylike to swear, Little Lady," Modo said.

"Yeah, well, welcome the twenty first century Modo. Being a lady is overrated."

Bad manners, and a bad mouth. Modo looked down and clenched his left hand into a tight fist. Whoever's raising her ain't doing a good job at all!

"I see whoever has custody of you has their hands full. With that mouth and morbid sense of humor of yours." Throttle saw Danny stick her tongue out at him, but he ignored it. "What about an Uncle? Aunt? Grandfolks?"

Danielle merely shook her head casually in a negative response. They looked back at each other, Modo obviously worried. Modo couldn't stand the idea of a child going through his or her life without parents and or relatives of sorts. But what could they do if they found out that she had no living relatives at all, or even any sort of family she lived with? She could not stay with them; not only would her staying with them cramp their style, but it could endanger her life.

"Well, what about siblings?" Vinnie asked her. "Do you live with a brother or sister?"

"Yeah," Danny answered, much to the relief of the Martian Mice. "I live with my older sister Raquelle and her boyfriend Keith."

"Perfect," Throttle said, worry removed from his face. "We can give ya a ride back to your place."

"Nah. No need." Danny picked up her skateboard. "I boarded here. I can b-"

"You're not going back by yourself at this time at night, Little Lady," Modo interrupted gently yet firmly. "These streets are not safe, especially after dark. If we leave you to get home by yourself, you might run into that gang that tried to you-know-what to you¼and this time they may do what they wanted to before we got here. Probably do even worse."

"Besides, we got nothin' better to do," Vinnie shrugged.

Danielle sighed and looked up at the three. They each had firm looks on their faces, and refused to be swayed. How could she convince them that she would be fine? She couldn't. She also considered everything else. She knew they were right, and she was tired and weary.

"You win," Danny surrendered.

"Squirt, we always do," Vinnie said, a smirk on his face.

"…what did you just call me?" One of Danny's eyes twitched when Vinnie said "Squirt".

"Squirt."

"I'm NOT a squirt!" Danielle shouted, marching over to them. Even though they towered over her, she pushed aside that fact and stared up at them, glaring. "Five foot two ain't short! I'm one of the tallest people in my school!"

"Not by Martian standards, Squirt," Vinnie laughed, resulting in the others laughing along with him.

"STOP CALLING ME SQUIRT, HUELE TOTO!" Danielle shouted at Vinnie.

"That's it!" Vinnie was pissed. "I dunno what the hell you just said, but I know that was an insult!"

Instead of cowering in fear like Vinnie had hoped she would, Danielle stuck out her pink-colored tongue at the white furred Martian mouse. Vinnie curled his hands into balls, squeezing them while his muscles flinched. His teeth grinded against each other as his red eyes narrowed at the young teenage girl before him. Vinnie then lunged at Danielle, diving at her. The young girl jumped just as his arms were about to grab her, causing Vinnie fall hard onto the ground. His body and face slid slightly on the ground below him, causing dirt to stick to his white furry chest and face. Danielle laughed at Vinnie, her index finger on her right arm pointed at him as her left arm curled around her waist as she doubled over. Vinnie slowly pushed himself off the ground, brushing the dirt off of his body an face. He then turned and started running after her. Danielle quickly ran between Throttle and Modo, Vinnie quickly behind her.
"YOU GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

"YA GOTTA CATCH ME FIRST, HUELE TOTO!"

Throttle and Modo watched Vinnie chase Danielle all around the announcer's box, wincing at the sounds of tables being turned over, laughter from Danielle, and the shouting matches between Vinnie and the young girl. Throttle sighed irritably, pressing his un-gloved left hand to his face.

"This is going to be a long night," Throttle said.

"I'll go separate them," Modo offered, slowly making his way towards Danny and Vinnie.

Three motorcycles came to a halt in front of a building. The riders looked around, taking in the sight of everything around them. The area which Danielle lived was seedy, to say the least. The streets of the neighborhood before them were covered with potholes, and graffiti decorated the walls and trash cans. The sounds of police sirens filled the night sky, along with the sounds of stray cats and dogs barking and hissing randomly. Random people sat on the curb of the streets, either smoking, drinking, vandalizing the ruined buildings, or other random stuff. One man stood in front of a dark green dumpster with bottles of empty beer next to him, the sounds of pouring liquid close by him.

The three Martian Mice looked up at the apartment building Danielle told them she lived in. It was large and brick-colored, even though the night air hid the color considerably. However, graffiti covered the walls, the color on the bricks were dying out, and were becoming chipped. The front stairs of the apartment building were made of a cheap form of concrete, crumbled and cracked all over. In fact, it looked as if they would fall apart any second if even the slightest pressure was applied to it. The door in front was made of wood, slowly chipping apart with the front window on the door having a huge hole in the center. The window frames were black, the windows broken with the in tact pieces dirty and covered with a black substance.

The three Martian Mice just stood where they were, their jaws dropped. Their shock was not of wonder, but of disgust and fear. They had suspected that Danielle lived in a run down neighborhood, but they never imagined how bad it was until they saw it with their own eyes. It made the area of Chicago they normally visited seem like it was the Gold Coast itself. The neighborhood which Danielle was living in seemed as though it was little better than a waste dump.

"Ahhh, home sweet home," Danny said wryly, climbing off Modo's motorcycle and taking off the spare helmet that was loaned to her. "Thanks for the lift."

"Uhh….yeah; not a problem, Little Lady," Modo smiled, even though his voice had an uneasy edge in it.

"It's what we heroes do, Squirt," Vinnie smirked.

"QUIT CALLING ME THAT!" she shouted irritably, glaring at Vinnie.

The three Martian Mice only laughed at Danielle's annoyance. Her fists continued to shake as they laughed at her. Throttle patted the top of the teenager's head, and she stopped.

"Okay Vincent I think Danny-girl went through enough tonight. Ease off."

Vinnie grumbled and crossed his well-sculpted arms across his equally sculpted chest.

"You want us to bring you inside, Little Lady?" Modo asked.

"I can manage, Modo." Danny lightly hit the shoulder pad on Modo's chest guard. "And don't worry-I won't tell Chucho, Andre, or anyone else about you three being aliens. Doubt anyone would believe me anyway-it would just be an excuse to be dragged off to the loony bin."

"You're alrea-" Vinnie began, but Modo instantly reached over and covered Vinnie's mouth with his flesh hand, his eye glowing red.

"Bro, if you wanna keep your cojones where they are you'd better not finish that sentence."

Vinnie just sat where he was, daring not to make a move. Throttle looked back at Danny and chuckled sheepishly.

"Just ignore Vincent, Danny-girl. His mouth makes noise and his brain just goes along for the ride." The tan mouse ruffled her black hair. "Stay safe, kiddo. And remember one other important thing."

"What's that?"

"RIDE FREE!" the three said in unison, popping wheelies as they drove down the broken, crater-filled street in the night.

Danielle watched the three Martian Mice drive off, coughing slightly from the clouds of smoke emitted from the exhaust pipes of their bikes. As she watched them leave, she couldn't help but feel a smile form on her face.

Those three are the weirdest men…mice…mice-men, I have ever met in my life, she thought as she walked towards the back alley of the apartment complex. But they seemed pretty cool, especially those wicked bikes! Damn I want one! Danny's smile turned into a frown as she jumped up to grab the bottom railing of the fire escape. She slipped one foot onto the bottom and swung her leg around, then started climbing up the railing. Why show me something awesome if I'm not meant to have it? A cool bike right out of Terminator movie, adventures in space…being with people that will protect ya, and maybe care for ya. Seriously-why have me meet three alien dudes and have them save me if I wasn't meant for greener pastures? Or in this case, starry skies?

With that, she climbed into the window of where her room was. She looked down on the ground when she heard the crunching of glass and saw a scattered beer bottle that had rolled by underneath the window. Ignoring it, Danielle swung her other leg over and sat on the window sill.

Everything's the same as when I left it.

The apartment room was a pigsty, to say the least. The wallpaper was slowly peeling off, revealing wooden walls that were slowly decaying. The wallpaper that was still in tact was fading in color, covered with slight traces of a clear liquid that was clearly not water. The carpet was ripped in several places, covered with red and other colored stains. Beer bottles, soda cans, paper, and other items littered the dirty and broken carpet. The back of the couch was torn apart to shreds and was barely standing, with pieces of foam and springs sticking out in the back. The coffee table was covered with wrappers, and more bottles and cans. What was more, it was also covered with empty cigarette boxes and small wrappers to who-knows-what. The chairs around the coffee table were old and looked rotten as well.

Casually walking around as if nothing was wrong, Danielle grabbed a nearby sturdy chair. She set it next to the refrigerator.

Damn I'm hungry. Danny climbed up onto an old chair and grabbed two containers of instant noodles from the cupboard next to the fridge. Good thing for ramen noodles. The one thing here that doesn't have an expiration date, and where you don't need to be a chef or have more than five minutes to make a meal.

Danielle let the sink run for two minutes before clean water shot out from the faucets then filled the noodle cups with them. After setting them inside the microwave, she noticed a yellow note taped to the fridge. She pulled it off and looked it over as she opened the refrigerator to look for a drink.

Out clubbing. Will be back late. Dinner's in the cupboards, Raquelle and Keith. Danny rolled her eyes and crumbled the note in her hand. Wow…what great parenting skills, she thought sarcastically.

She pushed aside the dressing jars, a milk jug, and bottles of tequila and whiskey before grabbing a plastic bottle filled with red hot sauce. She pulled out a can of beer, and looked at it for a moment. She considered having it to complement her instant ramen dinner. With everything that happened only a few hours ago, alcohol would seem like just the thing to help distress and go to sleep. Running for one's life, almost getting raped, and then meeting aliens: who could blame one for turning to booze for comfort? But she decided against it, and put it back in the fridge. It was the only one left, and she did not know when Raquelle and Keith would return from clubbing, or wherever they really were. And she did not want to risk Keith's wrath if there was no beer left upon return.

Not worth risking another cigarette burn…or five. With that, Danny settled on a half opened liter bottle of soda, then shut the fridge door. Probably flat, but a drink's a drink.

The microwave beeped, and Danny opened the door. She grabbed her noodle cups and soda bottle, then took a seat on the sofa and kicked off her shoes. She rested her feet on the messy coffee table before her, squirting the hot sauce into her noodle cups. After turning the TV on, she dug her fork into one of the noodle cups, then brought the noodles up to her mouth and slurped them up. She grabbed the remote and flipped channels, but found none of them were playing anything interesting. Danny turned off the television, then pulled out one of her discarded comics and started flipping the pages.

It almost came true, Danny thought wistfully. My dream of being "The Chosen One" almost came true…just like Peter "Star Lord" Quill. I wonder if those mice men would've taken me in if they knew I lived here, and how messed up my home life is? Maybe then I'd be out of this hell hole and get started on taking down alien sociopaths bent on adding Earth to their intergalactic empire or draining energy from a planet to feed oneself. She took a swig of her soda, then flipped a comic page. Maybe not like Quill, but more like Sam Witwicky. A way more useful Sam Witwicky. I wouldn't need to be rescued every five minutes because I'd know what not to do when the bad guys are around. Who knows? Maybe I could join in the fight too…if they had the sense to train me with a gun. Or better yet: karate lessons. I could be like a mix between Mockingbird and Black Canary!

After she finished a noodle cup, the sudden opening of the apartment door caused Danny to jump up from her sudden comfortable position. She looked back and saw two people stumble into where the kitchen area connected to the door. One was a female with curly blonde hair that touched her shoulders and had her face plastered with make-up. The other a male with dark brown hair complete with gold-colored streaks going through it. Both ignored Danielle as the blonde kicked the door closed with her heel booted feet. The brunette pinned the blonde against the wall with his body and claimed her mouth with his own. His hands quickly peeled off her leather jacket and flung it across the room as his jean-covered knee rubbed against her short skirt and fishnet stockings.

"Ah-hem," Danielle cleared her throat.

The two older adults stopped making out when Danny cleared her throat and turned their attention to her. She waved at them nonchalantly as they looked at her, and stood up from her place on the sofa. The blonde tugged down her short leather skirt as much as she could and smiled sheepishly at Danny.

"Oh, sorry Hermana. Thought you'd be in bed by now. What about school?"

"It's Friday. There's no school on the weekends, remember?" Not like it ever mattered to ya anyway if I did go, or if I passed. Not with all the days your boyfriend would make me skip to be his Coke mule. Danny tossed one of her empty noodle cups into the trash can by the kitchen counter. "How were the clubs?"

"Loud. Smelly. Packed. Could barely breathe in there." Pause. "Paradise." Raquelle plopped herself onto the sofa and grabbed the second ramen noodle cup Danny cooked for herself. "How about you, Hermana? How was your day?"

"It was…eventful." That was all Danny could say. I was chased by thugs who were robbing an arcade, cornered at Quiggley Field, almost gang raped, met alien mice and almost got to leave you and your punk ass boyfriend and live out my comic book fantasies. Like you'd believe me…or even care.

"Eventful? Eventful's good." Raquelle slurped up some of the noodles. "And things will be eventful this weekend too. Wanna tell her, Baby?"

"Was just about to, Babe." Keith plopped down on the other side next to Danny. "We just got a big business offer from a powerful Chi-town business tycoon. Wants a big shipment of goods delivered this and next week. And he's gonna pay quadruple what my boys usually get from the everyday crackheads."

"You know what that means, Hermana? Our ship has finally come in!" Raquelle hugged Danny. "We'll finally be able to leave this place behind and live the life we've dreamed of for so long! Imagine-no more living in this dump of a neighborhood. No more splitting a one room to keep the cops off our trail. We'll finally have it big. That big dream house we've been wishing for all those years. Our own rooms, big soft lush beds, designer clothes, lavish cuisine every night. Be the highlight of every party for all the bigwigs of Chicago. We're almost there, Hermana."

You've been saying that for years, Estupida. What makes you think it's gonna happen now? "So I guess this means I'll be working double this weekend huh? Tell each dealer where to go?"

"Which means you should get ready for bed now, Punk." Keith lightly pushed Danny off the sofa. "And this isn't your usual crack run, Puta. This dealer…he wants something bigger delivered."

"Bigger?" Danny looked back. "Bigger how? Like AK-47s? Rocket launchers? Nuclear missiles?"

"You know my boss's motto: 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'. Just do what you always do: go where the directions say to go, avoid the cops, and make nice with the dealers."

"Si, Jefe." Danny made her way to the back room, then paused to look back at Keith. "Hey Keith?"

"What is it, Puta?"

"Well…I was thinking. It's looking like you're finally raking in a lot of money from all this drug pushing, and this new deal you struck sounds like it's gonna bring in millions. So, since money is coming in, and you're not short of customers, maybe I can finally sign up for karate classes?"

No sooner had Danielle asked Keith that question that he swung his right arm back and then forward, smacking her hard across the face. She shrieked in pain and wobbled to her right, grabbing the wall for support while her hand instinctively covered her face. When she removed her hand, she saw blood, and realized she was hit so hard her nose was bleeding. She slowly regained her balance and looked back at Keith. A frown was plastered on his face as he lowered the hand he used to slap her and he stormed up to her.

"What have I told you about asking me for shit like that!?"

"I…I just thought that-"

"Well you thought wrong Puta!" Keith grabbed Danny hard by her ponytail and pulled her closer to him. "It's bad enough you read those stupid picture books. Getting all these ideas about being a hero and traveling space and shit like that. And you've been asking for years to take these stupid 'karate' classes. You know what will happen if you do!? I'll tell ya-cops will track you down, then find me! My ass will be thrown in jail and where will you and your sister be? Back on the streets, or back to those psychos you two called family! You want that, Puta!? You wanna go back to being your abuelos's whipping girl and punching bag!?"

"N-no…" Danny's voice quivered as she spoke.

"Piss me off again and it'll happen!" Keith let go of Danny and pushed her back towards the back room. "Now get your ass in bed. And if you ever ask me for karate classes, or any shit like that again, I'll knock your head in so hard you'll be wearing a helmet for life and eating your meals through a straw!"

Danielle stumbled as she was pushed, but eventually regained her balance as she made her way to the joint bedroom. She paused for a moment, then looked back. Keith had gone back to the sofa and sat next to Raquelle. Danny stood there, ignoring the blood dripping down her nose and chin. She looked at Raquelle blankly. She wanted her to do something. Say something. Anything. Give any sign that she recognized what that monster did to her. Rush to her, clean her face, hug her, ANYTHING to show her any sort of affection. Instead, Raquelle merely looked back at Danny with a sad, apologetic look on her face. Keith wrapped an arm around her, and pulled Raquelle into his arms. She looked back at Keith, then kissed the hand he used to slap Danny with.

"When is that little Puta of yours gonna give up these karate and comic book obsessions? I mean seriously-the brat's almost fifteen! Girls aren't supposed to like this stuff-they're supposed to like make up, cooking, cleaning and taking care of their man. Like you-you know how to please your man. You don't talk back when I make you do something, or do this non-girly crap."

"I'm sure it's just a phase. She'll get over it soon, Baby. I promise."

Danny walked back to the room, wiping her bloody nose with her shirt sleeve. Sadly, this was routine for her. Whenever she would ask for anything, even for the smallest of favors, Keith would acknowledge her request with a threat, a hit, or in some cases both. Sometimes, if he was very angry and had it available, he would burn her with a cigarette. Even if she was just there and did not say or do anything, he would look for any reason to hurt her. His way of warning her and others what would happen if they were to cross him. As he was high up on the command chain of the underground drug smuggling ring, no one dared to challenge or question Keith in any decision he made. Unfortunately, Danielle would sometimes forget that-even if what she asked wasn't a question in leadership, but for anything from food to karate lessons. And he was more than willing to remind her, no matter how often he had to reinforce those reminders on her flesh. She lost count of how many times he would beat her, slap her, deny her food, or any other form of torture to demonstrate his power. He also threatened her with rape from him or fellow colleagues, but never went through with it. Keith was too smart to do that: knew that cops would be all over him if they find out he had forced a minor into sexual favors for him and others.

Ironically, Raquelle's relationship with him was supposed to help them escape that life. Having lost both parents and no other relatives, Danielle and Raquelle were raised by their grandparents…both of whom regularly abused both girls until Raquelle took Danielle with her and ran away. After living on the streets for several months, Raquelle met Keith, and he offered to take them both in. She thought he would be their ticket to their own fairy tale ending: a Prince Charming for Raquelle, and a family for Danielle. Sadly, that did not end up being the case for either sister.

She basically traded living with one demon for another.

Danielle finished washing the blood off her face, then exited the bathroom dressed in a black shirt and red plaid bottoms. Opening the door that lead to a small closet, she laid down on a thin sheet and pulled a thin blanket over her legs. She huddled her legs to her waist in order to be able fit in the closet and laid her head on the sheet below her since pillows weren't available.

I should have fought back, Danielle thought bitterly. I should have hurt him the way he hurt me…the way he hurt me and Raquelle for years. I should have fought harder to make those mice men take me in and make me part of the group. Should have left when I had the chance. But where do I go? Can I go back to find them? I don't even know them. What planet they're from, why they came to Earth…or where they're located? Maybe they live at Quiggley Field…oh hell with it. I'm tired, sore, and I hurt too much to think.

With that last thought, Danielle closed her eyes and slowly let sleep consume her.

Further downtown in the heart of Chicago, a sign stood out in the middle of the city. The sign began with a large, uppercase letter 'L', the horizontal line underneath shaped like a fish. Next to the L was a smaller, upper case 'P'. Underneath the fish was the name "Limburger" in a horizontal line, with the name "Plaza" following it underneath in a vertical line. The sign was held together with thick concrete supporters between the words "plaza" and the first three letters of "Limburger" in a triangular shape.

Behind the Limburger Plaza sign, a particular skyscraper stood out in the middle of downtown. Unlike the other skyscrapers, this particular building had no cracks in it whatsoever. In fact, it appeared to have been in perfect solid condition, unlike the other buildings around it. The color was of a pale peach, now a much darker shade due to the night sky casting over the with blue colored glass windows held up with white window frames. On one side of the tower was a large letter 'L', with a fish completing the horizontal line making up the letter 'L'. Next to the letter was a letter 'P'.

Inside the top floor of Limburger Plaza, a cylinder shaped glass tube stretched from one end of a large office cubicle to another, filled with water and various exotic fish swimming back and forth through their cylinder tank. On top of an aquamarine rug was a brown wooden desk, with an obese man with high black hair in a purple business suit sitting on his desk. On his desk was an electric fan, and a bowl of squirming brown worms. While the obese man was sitting on his desk chair, he looked onto his TV monitor with a calm expression on his thick lips, slightly darker than his own skin.

"Yes, Lord Camembert. Nothing has gone wrong with Operation: Repentance. In fact, everything is preceding right on schedule," he said in a thick British accent. "I will be able to guarantee you what you need by the end of this month."

"You had better, Limburger," Camembert, a green-scaled, red-eyed, humanoid fish clad in a gold robe with purple sleeves, ordered. His eyes narrowed at Limburger. "My patience with you is beyond thin. This time…I expect results!"

With that, the vid-com on Limburger's desk shut off. Limburger breathed a heavy sigh of relief and plucked a few slimy brown worms from the bowl on his desk. He brought the tips of the worms to his large lips and sucked them into his mouth, one at a time. Afterwards, one of his white gloved hands opened a drawer and pulled out a small rectangular box covered with a gold-colored lid. His index finger flipped the button lock in the center to open the lid. When he did, he pulled out a long, fat cigar from the container and popped the tip into his mouth. He then pulled out a small silver box and flipped open the lid. When he did, he pressed the index finger of his other hand on the switch to release a small orange flame. He brought the flame up to the exposed end of his cigar, his other hand blocking air and other element as he lit up his cigar. After he closed his silver lighter, Limburger leaned back into his chair and deeply inhaled the rich taste of nicotine, tar, and other contents of his cigar into his system. He then wrapped his right hand around the cigar and removed it from his mouth. Almost instantly, a cloud of smoke escaped from his mouth.

"Ahh, much better," Limburger cooed to himself, sitting up. He then stared at his lit up cigar. Smoking was not a habit he had never considered taking up on. However, with the stress of trying to ship needed resources to Plutark, threatening demands from his superiors, and attacks from the Biker Mice constantly preventing from completing his assignments, his stress level had risen considerably. The rich taste of nicotine from cigars was all that could control the frequent bouts of stress that plagued his presence. "How I have lived without these miracle workers is a mystery in itself."

Limburger pushed himself up from his chair and looked out the window behind his desk, admiring the buildings that made up the city of Chicago. He tapped on the cigar lightly, letting the ashes fall to the carpet. He smiled to himself as he gazed over the city.

"My fair Chicago," he crooned to himself, bringing the cigar back to his lips. "For years I have tried to plunder all which you hold dear. Your soil, your water, your land…EVERYTHING you possess. However, because of your secret saviors, the Biker Mice, I have been less than successful. And have paid the price many a time with the destruction of my tower on a weekly basis," Limburger grimaced. His lips then formed another smile. "However, that will all soon change. You will soon loose what you value more than your city. More than your own lives in fact. However…the precious loss will be so small you will not realize you have lost it until it is too late. And while you look for what you loose…the police will become too distracted to realize that little by little, their fair city will be gone."

With that, Limburger released another puff of nicotine-filled smoke in his office. With the smoke escaped a small chuckle. That chuckle soon turned into a deep, diabolical laugh. His laughter echoed throughout the walls of his office, deepening the bone-chilling effect it had. Once his laughter stopped, he smiled cruelly at the view of Chicago.

"Soon, Chicago," he crooned, bringing the cigar back to his lips. "Very, very soon."