Okay, I wrote this because when looking this site over, I noticed there is a SERIOUS lack of Stoker fics out there. Come on, he's so cool! Why isn't he getting more attention? Since there only seem to be a handful of stories out there for him, and most of them look like there never to be finished from the update dates, I decided to write one for him.

Much like Don't Worry, this is intended as a one shot, but if you like there may be more. I'll be playing it all by ear, and it depends entirely on your reviews. (Notice the subtle hint I'm giving here?)

I'm not sure how big of a consideration this is, but I should warn you that while I remember watching the Biker Mice series from when I was a kid, I don't remember everything. I mean, I was seven when they were showing reruns, so my memory isn't entirely clear on everything. This takes a huge majority during the Plutarkian War, which is explained mostly in the end of the third series, which unfortunately I don't own, so if make any blatant errors, please bare with me for the sake of the story. Same things with the Rats. I researched as best I could, so hopefully everything will be fine.

So last order of business. I do not own Stoker. I do not own the Freedom Fighters. I do not own Mars. I don't own a lot of crap, it all belongs to somebody richer and cooler than me. I do however own Nega and all of her spite-filled attitude.

Yay.

Between a Rat and a Hard Place

Pain shot through Nega as she tried to move the boulder lying on her leg. Her arms pushed fruitlessly and she hit the thing in frustration. It was no good, she couldn't make the thing budge and she definitely couldn't move. The large boulder was propped up slightly by a rock next to her knee, and it was the only thing keeping her left leg from being totally crushed. Unfortunately it wasn't big enough to give her the room needed to pull herself from out underneath of it.

This goddamn rock was going to kill her, she just knew it. What a pathetic way to die in a war, being caught in the tunnels of Mars, fighting with her team only to have a blast from a lousy teammate bring down the entire place.

She guessed it just went to show her how poor Mars was getting to be these days when it came to sturdiness. The Plutarkians certainly had drilled enough holes in it, not that she had cared.

She honestly hated Mars, but maybe being driven to the worst parts of the planet by the mouse population could do that to you. Growing up in a place were there was barely enough food to survive in a land that was harsh all because the damn mice had superior numbers hadn't exactly made her form a deep love for the red planet. She'd signed on as a mercenary in this bloody war just so she could earn enough money to get off this miserable place and be on her way.

And she was going to starve to death over the weeks because she couldn't move a stupid rock that had fallen on her in her first gunfight in the war.

How fucking pathetic.

Of course, if any of the others had survived, they hadn't stuck around. She saw what looked to be one of her team underneath a large pile of rubble, only an arm and part of his torso visible.

Poor bastard. But at least it had ended quickly for him.

The electric light above her on the ceiling flickered for a moment before going off. Honestly she was surprised the wiring had survived as long as it had from the cave in. Of course, being a rat she didn't need the light but whether she could see or not didn't matter much right now.

The female rat gave one last push before sighing and resting her head against the dusty wall. It was no good, she was stuck, and she wasn't going anywhere for a while.

She looked down next to her, where her pistol was lying. She didn't have a lot of options, and lying there for god knows how long, waiting to die was not something she wanted to do. The longer she waited, the more pain she would feel, and she knew damn well no one was coming to rescue her. This had been little more than a scouting group, no more than five rats, including herself that had come across some mice. Bad timing and a damn trigger-happy asshole had caused her death.

She picked it up and felt the cool metal in her hand. She didn't want to give up, but was there much other choice? She'd starved long enough in her life to know it wasn't how she wanted to go out. Of course, if she still had her knife maybe she could just hack her leg off and try to keep the stump from bleeding while she crawled away, but the thing was too far away for even that stupid idea to be an option.

A suddenly sound of small rocks moving made her turn her head sharply to the source of the noise and raise her gun to it. Whatever was coming she wasn't about to be it's victim. Knowing her luck it'd probably be some stupid Sand Raider.

The rubble of the wall caving her into this small space was pushed away and she heard some panting before a figure climbed though.

"Darn, this is a dead end too," Stoker muttered and raised his flashlight before he saw there was someone else in the room. A rat, partially crushed by some rock had her weapon pointed right at him, fear and anger flashing in her eyes.

"Stay back!" she snarled, obviously trying to sound threatening. Honestly, the fact that she had a gun helped.

She was smaller than most rats he'd seen, but the fact that she was female probably explained that. He didn't think he'd seen a female rat before, at least not that he could remember. Dressed in cargo pants, a long sleeved white shirt covered in dirt, boots and a black vest, she was obviously a soldier. Probably one of the ones he'd just come across with some of his friends when an idiot rat had started firing.

He had his own pistol at his hip, but he doubted he could reach it before she pulled the trigger. The chances of him going back without getting shot seemed just as slim. He noticed the small wince of pain as she moved, trying to keep him in her sights and he sighed.

"Look, you shoot me it's as good as suicide," he stated calmly.

"What do you mean?" she snapped.

"You want me to help you or not?" he asked. "I could probably move that boulder for you."

Nega stared at him. He was offering to help? Why?

"You just saying that so I won't shoot?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered honestly. "I happen to like being amongst the living, as I'm sure is the same for you. You don't kill me, I can get you out of there."

"What's to keep me from killing you afterwards?" she snarled.

"Nothing I guess," he sighed. "I guess that would be just like a rat though, to shoot someone who'd just saved their life."

"Shut the hell up," she snapped. "Don't act like you know me. For all I know you just want the pleasure of watching me suffer."

"I have better ways to spend my time than watching someone die," he replied. "Getting out of here, for one."

"You know a way out?" she asked.

"Possibly. I went the other way at first, hoping I'd be able to get back to my base, but it was blocked off, and there's no way I could dig through it all by myself. I came back this way hoping it was a better shot, but this looks even worse than the first one." He looked at her meanfully. "Of course, two people might have a better shot back the way I came than one."

"You want me to help you?" she asked incredulously. "A rat and mouse working together? Are you serious?"

"It's either that or you shoot me and then rot away all by your lonesome self," he said with a shrug. "Thanks to you guys all my men are gone."

"They're dead?" she asked.

"Not from what I saw," he answered. "Where you guys came in, behind us there was a fork in the cave, all of them went one way and I went another. The tunnel was closed off though, and it doesn't look like anything short of a digging machine is getting through that mess."

"Fucking typical," she muttered. She gets stuck here and not one damn mouse has the decency to die.

"So you want to get out of here or not?" he asked.

She weighed her options. She could let this mouse help her, and be free of that stupid boulder, or she could try and shoot at him and be left to die, whether she hit him or not. He might just be lying about the cave up ahead to try and keep her from shooting him afterwards, but she didn't think she'd do it anyway. She knew her race had a pretty bad reputation, but they only did what they needed to survive.

And while stabbing someone in the back is sometimes what it took to stay alive, she didn't see how it would help in this case. At least for now. She didn't think this mouse's intentions were entirely pure either. He smiled way too much for a guy who had a gun pointed at him.

"Fine," she said and lowered her gun, but didn't let go of it. "But this is just until we get the hell out of here. Then we go our separate ways, got it?"

"I'm sure I'll find some way to cope," he replied with a smirk.

'Asshole,' she thought.

He moved over to her and knelt down next to the boulder, inspecting it.

"I hope this doesn't hurt," he muttered, causing her to blink. What? "You're going to have to move pretty quickly. I don't know how long I'll be able to hold it up."

"Right," she said and nodded.

He put his hands underneath and braced himself before lifting with all his might. He grunted lightly as she slid away from underneath it by dragging herself backwards and he let it drop with a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," she said as she moved to stand up only to have him pin her down. Her eyes went wide in surprise and she was about to shove her gun into his stomach before his tail snatched it out of her hands. Struggling, she attempted to kick him with her good leg.

"Will you calm down?" he asked frustrated as he tried to dodge the blow.

"Bite me! You took my gun!" she accused spitefully before snapping at his face with her teeth.

"What, you thought I actually trusted you not to try to blow my brains out?" he asked angrily. "I need to see if you're all right. You're not going to be much help if you can barely move."

She stopped struggling, only to glare at him.

"There are better ways to ask a lady if she's hurt than to do what you did," she snarled at him.

"Guess it's a good thing rats aren't ladies," he joked before she slugged him. "See, a lady would have just slapped me and huffed."

She couldn't believe he was still cracking jokes as he was sitting on his ass and rubbing his jaw. Too bad he hadn't accidentally bit his own tongue off.

"You going to let me look you over or not?" he asked.

"Not," she answered as she looked down at her leg. Shit, her pants were torn and tinted red from blood, especially at the knee.

"I've got bandages," he taunted in a sing-song voice and she groaned. It was either that or start tearing her shirt up.

"Fine," she muttered and he came closer to her. Her fists clenched as he pulled her pants from out of her boot to inspect her leg closer. She didn't watch as he touched her light gray fur, pressing softly against her to see if anything was broken. She gave a small hiss of pain, but aside from that, it didn't hurt too bad.

"I don't think the damage is too bad," he said as he pulled a few rolls of cloth from out of his side-pouch along with a bottle of clear liquid that she knew wasn't water.

She actually found herself wishing it would hurt more as he dabbed the antiseptic on her scrapped up skin. He was being far too gentle for her to be comfortable with. He was a mouse. He couldn't honestly care if she was hurt, could he?

Getting her to walk was one thing, but he was being careful with her. She hated to admit it, but she didn't think any of her own kind had ever been this nice to her, not even her own family. She'd been the runt of the litter, and they had no problem taking advantage of it.

When the bandages were applied to her knee and he pulled her pants back down she held her hand out expectantly.

"Give me my pistol," she demanded.

"You going to try and kill me?" he asked.

"Trust me, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't bother with a gun," she answered hotly, glad to be away from that stupid tender moment. This guy was the enemy. Nothing more, and she could handle that.

"All right," he said as he gave it back to her. "But put it away or I'm going to have to pull mine out and we both know digging one handed is going to be hard on both of us."

She did as he asked and stooped up her knife before sliding it in the sheath on her ankle. Attempting to stand wasn't fun, but she could keep her weight on her good leg, and aside from a limp, she could walk.

"Lead the way," she said.

"I don't know. That'd give you a pretty good opportunity to get me in the back," he joked.

"I am not going to shoot you," she snorted.

"And here I thought you rats were creatures of opportunity."

"Just get moving," she said. "There's nothing in it for me to kill you. Besides, what makes you think I want you behind me?"

He smiled in a way that was a little too wicked for her liking and crawled though the hole he'd made. She refused his help when she went through, and was glad she was able to get through it without loosing face by falling on her ass or something.

"No light left over here," he said as he waved around his flashlight. "I think the thing got smashed. Can you see?"

"You're kidding, right?" she asked.

"Ah, of course," he noted as he began walking, the small beam of light moving over the rocky walls and floor. "So, what's your name?"

"What?" she asked.

"Your name," he repeated. "Or would you prefer I call you rat the whole time?"

"Nega," she responded. "What about you?"

"Call me Stoker."

She stopped short and he turned around in curiosity to see why she wasn't following.

"Stoker?" she asked. "As in General Stoker?"

"Yeah," he answered. "You've heard of me?"

"Of course I have," she snapped. "You're that freedom fighter leader that's been giving the Plutarkians so much trouble. No wonder they want you dead so much. They say you're a down right arrogant bastard. Heh, guess the rumors are true."

"So, you do work for the Plutarkians," he muttered. "Don't you care about Mars? It's your home they're strip-mining too."

"This planet is not a home," she responded. "Maybe to you, but not to me. Just because rats make good scavengers doesn't mean every one of us enjoys it. The second I make my money, I'm getting the hell off this rock, and if you were smart you'd do the same thing."

"So you're just going to abandon it?" he asked.

"What's there to abandon?" she asked. "Mice kept all the good land for themselves. That may be fine for the Sand Raiders, they don't like civilization that much anyway, but we have every right to this planet as you. If the Plutarkians want to pay to get the resources, more power to the slime balls, as long as I get paid."

"How can you say that?" he asked her. "Look at what they're doing. Look at all the people they've hurt."

"Hey," she snapped. "Don't go sobbing to me about people being hurt. I was abandoned when I was a kid 'cause I was too small to be worth any effort and my brothers and sisters eventually got tired of using me as a punching back. I learned to fight when I was barely old enough to walk in order to stay alive, and all because you're kind thought they had more right to the good land."

"Your kind weren't saints either," he argued. "You think mice are some kind of tyrants? You were all so good at stealing and murdering we didn't want you anywhere near us."

"Bah, go ahead blame us. You-"

"Oh enough," he exclaimed. "We aren't going to accomplish anything by arguing over fights that happened hundreds of years ago. Mice are the bad guys to you, rats are the bad guys to me. We hate each other and if there were a single being more of either species around, one of us would be dead while the other was safely making it out of here with their own kind. As it is, we're both kind of stuck. So why don't we stop arguing morals and get the hell out of here?"

She chewed on her bottom lips and shrugged.

"Sure, what the hell do I care?" she said as she began following him. "Hey, did you know there was a price on your head?"

"Suddenly I feel so much more comfortable around you," he muttered.

"I'm just saying, the Plutarkians hate you a lot. It must mean that you're doing a good job in being a pain in their asses. They try to solve a lot of problems with money, but their greed usually keeps them from offering too much. Hell, no one in the regular army has a price on their heads."

"Really?" he asked. "How much they offering?"

"Let's put it this way, you could personally pay for any city on this planet."

"You planning on trying to collect?"

"If I was going to, I wouldn't have said anything to put you on your guard. I don't know if all of my teammates were killed, so if I come across one and they recognize you, you may want to run."

"I see," he replied. "The second I'm not useful anymore you'll help your friend and cash in on my head."

"None of those rats were my friends," she corrected. "I didn't even know any of their names. I'm just warning you in case we come across someone whose greed is playing up. But don't worry, I won't be the one to do it. I owe you my life, so if it does happen I won't shoot you down if you try to get away. Of course if you do get killed, don't think too badly if I stab the other one in the back at the first chance I get and turn in your carcass myself."

"Your morals are confusing at best," he said. "I can't tell if you're decent or not."

"I never claimed I was decent," she answered. "You saved my life, so I won't try to kill you. On the other hand, if someone else does the job right in front of me, I'm not going to turn down an opportunity presented to me on a silver platter. I'm not looking to be a good person, just one that's still alive. So if a stranger that I don't even know kills you, I certainly don't owe him anything, and you'll already be dead. Why not make the best out of the situation?"

"What if you're still stuck?"

"I'd wait 'till I was out before grabbing your head. I wouldn't owe him anything. He'd need me to get out too. Cancels any karma right out."
"So why bring all this up?"

"You were the one who brought up if someone else was around first," she answered. "After all, you implied that if there was another mouse, I'd already be dead."

"I did say that, didn't I?" he asked as he stopped and ran his hand over a wall. "Sorry."

"Why?" she asked as she wondered what he was doing.

"For making you think I'd let you die out of cold blood for no reason."

"You would have if you had been with someone else, wouldn't you?" she asked. "That's okay, I never would have thought of helping you in the first place, even if I had been alone. We're in a war. What are you doing anyway?"

"Trying to think," he replied. "The mice population left marks on the walls years ago, sort of like mile markers, to let us know how far we were from anything. I can't find anything in the dark though."

"Just how far away is this part of the cave?" she asked.

"Not too far," he responded. "I was gone for I think maybe less than an hour before I came back."

"Really?" she asked. "Seemed like longer."

"To you, I imagine it must have," he answered then straightened up. "Tell me, why'd you get involved in this anyway?"

"I already told you," she said. "The money."

"Oh I know that, but I meant the fighting part. I don't imagine a Plutarkian would hire a civilian to fight if they didn't already know how to handle themselves. Even if they were rats."

"Like I said before, I learned how to take care of myself early on. After all, your Mars and mine are very different. I was selling my skills before Plutark became involved, but they just give higher paychecks."

"So what happens when you get off Mars?"

"Is there some reason why you're asking me all this crap?" she snapped at him. "Seriously, what the hell do you care?"

He shrugged.

"It's a long walk."

"Too bad," she said. "I'm not interested in entertaining you. Let's just walk."

"Okie-dokie."

She sighed, pretending she had not just heard the leader of a resistance movement say okie-dokie.

They walked in silence for a while, her limping behind him. The damage done by the cave-in seemed to vary as they walked. Most places looked only slightly worse for wear, but others she was surprised the walls were still intact. Every once in a while he'd stop to check how far they'd come until at last they came across a three-way passage.

"Which way now?" she asked, not knowing these tunnels well. The scouting mission had been deep in mouse territory, and she didn't like the fact that she was effectively lost.

He shone his flashlight down the middle hall.

"The other two are just dead ends," he explained. "One goes on for about a mile then just stops, and the other has a drop off after a few feet. This is the one we want."

"Is it much further?" Honestly she didn't want to admit it, but her leg was beginning to hurt more. The dull throb was starting to get stronger, sharp stabs of pain occasionally shooting through her knee.

"No, we'll be there soon."

"Good."

"What's the matter, don't like my company?" he asked as he turned around and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Are you capable of being serious for even a moment?" she asked as she roughly shoved past him.

She barely stifled her gasp of anguish as she stumbled over a pothole in the floor. Arms grabbed her shoulders to steady her and held her up. Pain flared through her leg and she clenched her eyes shut, trying to will herself past it.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I tripped," she answered tersely. "Just give me a second."

"Would you like to sit down?"

"No!" she growled at him. "I want to get out of here and away from you. Now will you just shut up and let me go?"

"You know," he said as he shook his head. "You have some serious gratitude problems."

She frowned and shoved him away from her. With a small shrug he started walking.

After a few minutes the trail curved slightly and she saw what he was taking about. A large pile of rubble covered most of the exit. She saw tiny flickers of light seeping through the very top, but only slim rays of it. It could be dug through, but even with the two of them it was going to take time.

"Well," he said as he set the light down, "shall we get started?"

"Where does this lead to anyway?" she asked.

"It's about five miles south of Brimstone," he answered.

"Brimstone?" she asked, shocked. "Are you crazy? I can't be anywhere around there! Do you know what they'll do to me if I get caught?"

"I have a fair idea," he answered. "But don't worry, no one will be looking for you, so you have the advantage. I'm sure you'll get home safe and sound."

"You really do want me to live through this, don't you?" she asked slowly.

"Well yeah, I guess," he said. "You seem like an okay kid."

"I'm not a kid," she argued.

"Nega," he said. "I'm well into my late thirties. How old are you?"

"Twenty," she answered. "Sure you're not just getting old?"

"Brat."

"Can we just get started?"

He chuckled.

"Sure. I'm afraid I don't have any tools, so we're going to have to use our hands. I don't suppose you have anything?"

"My knife," she said. "But the things only five inches. "That won't do us much good besides for loosening up some dirt."

"Well, best get started with what we can do then," he said as he started towards the pile. "You just let me know if you get tired okay?"

"I'm sure I'll be able to keep up," she snorted.

Despite both of their talk, the work was hard, long, and exhausting. There were some boulders and rubble that they could barely get moved even when they both tried together. Dirt and sweat caked her fur, and she was glad she was already used to life as a foot troop or it might have really bothered her.

Stoker was resting on the floor after both had agreed it was time for a break. He looked a little out of breath.

"Here," she said as she pulled out a water skin from one of the pockets in her pants. "You look like you could use something to drink."

"Thanks," he said, sounding genuinely surprised.

She handed it to him and shrugged.

"I don't need you dying before we're done here. Just save some for me."

"No problem," he said after a sip. "How's you leg?"

"It's been better," she answered. True to her word, the limb felt like it was on fire. She was putting too much strain on it, but she knew she couldn't stop. There was still a lot of work to do, and if she didn't deal with it, then neither of them was going to escape.

"You should probably sit down." He patted the ground next to him and she arched an eyebrow.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Why not?" he asked. "I won't bite. You'd probably taste horrible anyway."

"Look, I'm putting up with you in order to get out of here," she explained. "Now will you knock it off with the cutesy act and be serious for a moment?"

"You really need to lighten up," he told her. "You'd probably be a lot less tense if you just learned to chill. Now just sit down. Give your leg a chance to rest. Come on, don't you wanna be friends?"

"I'm not the type that has friends," she said as she sat down, across from him though. She was not going to encourage this behavior. "And even if I was, are you forgetting the fact that I'm a rat? I hate mice, and I hate you."

"And how many mice have you known besides for me?"

She didn't answer.

"I'll tell you if you tell me," he goaded.

"Shut up," she said softly.

"Oh come on, what's the big deal?"

She wrenched her shirt off one of her shoulders and he stopped immediately. She figured he would have. The scar was long, starting from her neck to past her elbow, and he didn't even see all of it. Her fur didn't even cover it and she imagine the puffy pink skin must look as bad to him as it did to her every time she looked in a mirror.

"The very first fight I ever got in on the streets was when I was seven years old," she snarled at him. "Three mice saw me wandering around, and without any warning, just started to beat the crap out of me. They were all adults too. I was no threat to them; they just thought it was funny. And when I grabbed a piece of glass to try and defend myself, I nearly took one of the bastard's tails off, so they sliced me open for it. I was lucky I didn't die. I know mice, and I know rats, and I know those bloody Plutarkians. None of them care about me. I'm a big colossal joke to the whole planet, which is why I'm getting the hell off of it."

She expected him to apologize, at least a small sorry muttered out of embarrassment, but instead he sighed and handed her the water. She took it curiously before he was shrugging his vest and shirt off. She blushed for a second until she saw his chest. There were three small scars close to his heart, star shaped, and she recognized them as laser burns.

"I was fifteen," he said. "My home was attacked by Sand Raiders for supplies from the village. I tried to save my girlfriend at the time from being taken as well. Lucky for me those idiots never have been very good shots."

"Did you save her?" she asked.

"From being taken, yes. But she was still pretty hurt. Her windpipe was crushed when she tried to fight back. She couldn't speak, and breathing was real hard for her. She only lasted for about a year."

"Any scars that don't come from being a victim?" she inquired.

"Oh lots," he said and turned slightly and pointed to the small of his back. She almost winced when she saw several cuts overlaying each other. "Happened maybe a few years ago. There was a blast from a building, took a lot of the brunt of the damage. There were some wires, and I pushed a young punk out of the way to keep him from getting hurt."

Deciding this must have become about showmanship, she took a hold of her pants on one side and pulled it low enough to show him her hip, several drill marks in her skin.

"Six years ago," she told him. "It was the first time I sold myself off as a mercenary. Of course, we weren't in any kind of war back then, so the rich rat paying for us only wanted entertainment. We were more gladiators than anything else. I won the fight, but only barely. There was all sorts of tools around the room we'd been fighting in, and I let my guard down for a moment."

He removed the pants leg from one of his boots and showed her the ankle, a ring of charred flesh there. It looked like it had healed long ago, but the skin was still a sickening dark color.

"I was capture by rats once," he answered her unspoken question. "I'm sure you know about their little toys they use to keep prisoners and slaves from escaping."

She did. Seemingly simple looking steel circlets that were attached to someone's leg, it sent powerful shocks through anyone if they got to far from the remote, or if the holder of the remote was bored. She'd had one used on her in a practical demonstration in her 'training' and one shock had almost crippled her.

"How'd you get it off you so you could get away?" she asked.

"I didn't," he replied.

"You didn't do anything about the shocks?"

"Yeah, I just dealt with it."

She looked down at the ground, sighing softly before tugging back her hair a little to show her right ear, mostly missing.

"I was with someone once," she said. "I wouldn't call it romantic, but it had its moments. He was a hell of a fighter, but kind of stupid. When the Plutarkians came, he didn't want to work for them. Didn't trust them at all, certainly not to pay us, so he left. None of us tried to stop him, figuring hey, if he doesn't want the money, more for us, right? Three days later on patrol I found him getting attacked by Sand Raiders, so I tried to save his ass, taking a lot of them out. Suddenly I got a shot to the head and was knocked unconscious. The next thing I knew I was waking back up in the base, splitting headache and wondering how I'd got there. All I learned was that they found me at the gate, and I know those blasted hyenas wouldn't have let me go, much less bring me back."

"Sounds like maybe it was more romantic to him," Stoker said.

"Probably," she answered. "Hell, I never did see him again, so I'll never know for sure. But he was nice to have around."

"No thought of trying to find him again?"

"Hell, he left," she said. "I've been in the same place for a while now. If he wanted to find me, he would have already. No I'm just looking forward to getting away from here."

"What do you plan to do when you're gone?" he asked as he slipped his clothes back on.

"Not sure," she said. "Probably do what I do now. Be a mercenary. Heck, I hear the have boarding at Black Rock Asteroid right now. I may just head there."

"Seems a shame," he muttered. "Cute girl like you doing the soldier bit to survive. You should get yourself a nice mate and settle down."

"I'm not what I would call cute," she retorted. "And I'm not what you would call the settling down sort either. The last thing I need is a few brats and lousy husband to take care of."

"Don't see yourself in the mother role?" he asked teasingly.

"I have enough on my plate without having anyone else along for the ride. My mother was a horrible example, and I doubt I could do much better."

"Ah, I'm sure it'll hit you eventually," he said as he stood up and held out his hand to her. "Come on, let's get back to work."

She ignored him and stood on her own, but didn't snarl at him for it.

It took several more hours before either of them could crawl though, and both were exhausted by that point, but Stoker seemed in good spirits.

"It's not much farther to the surface," he told her. "Lets get going."

She nodded and began to follow, one arm braced on the wall to keep from falling, and he walked slowly to make sure he could catch her again if she did. He had offered to carry him, but her gun in his face warning him not to touch her had been enough to persuade him he probably was too tired to be able to do it anyway.

She squinted as daylight started to shine on the ground and she looked up to see the entrance to the cave. Her enthusiasm was short lived however when she heard a yell.

"Get away from him you, stinking rat!" was all the warning she had before she was tackled by a flying white blur. A fist slammed into her face and the mouse's weight landed on her bad leg making her howl in anger and pain. One hand slammed into his chin while she grabbed his throat and rolled them both over. She had her pistol pulled out and shoved into his temple before she heard the sound of two guns phasing up, ready to fire right on top of her head.

"Throttle, Modo, Vincent!" Stoker yelled and she looked up to see the general forcing a tan and rather large gray mouse to lower their arms. "Geez you punks can't even get one woman without loosing one of your men! I thought I trained you better than that."

"I was just taking it easy on her," the white mouse beneath her argued. She shoved her gun harder into his skull.

"Nega, get off of him," Stoker said tiredly.

"He attacked me," she said calmly. "Hey, you think anyone would believe me if I told the Plutarkians he was you?"

"Nega," he said warningly.

"Bah. Don't act as if I work for you," she said as she stood, 'accidentally' stepping on the young mouse's left knee as she did. "Little warning, don't ever take it easy on a rat."

Stoker sighed at her hissed warning to Vinnie, but that was it.

"Uh," the tan mouse said. "Are we missing something here?"

"We were stuck down here together when there was a cave in," Stoker said. "I wouldn't have gotten out of there if not for her. We saved each other's lives."

"Oh," the large mouse said. "Well thank you ma'am. I'm-"

"Save the introductions," she said sharply. "I'm not interested in whatever the hell your names are." She turned to Stoker, and frowned at him. "Look, now that we're out of here, I have to return to my own base. Its seems like we'll both be fine now, so we just forget we ever saw each other. We meet on the battle field, the fact that you saved my life doesn't matter, got it?"

He nodded and held out his hand.

"Oh fine," she said and shook it.

"Ride free citizen," he said with a smile.

"Whatever," she said then without any warning pointed her pistol still in her hand at the ceiling and fired before yanking out of his grip as the cave came down, blocking them in.

"Hey!" she heard someone yell. "What's the big idea?"

"Sorry old man," she said loudly and with a laugh. "But none of those boys saved my life, so I don't own them anything. I'm sure you'll get out soon, but not before I'm long gone. I just can't have you following me, you know."

She looked behind her and smiled. Four motorcycles sat there, three of them looked custom, but one she could tell was just the standard issue she'd seen most freedom fighters use. No doubt those three had brought one for their leader.

"Hmm," she muttered, as she looked it over. "That brown color actually looks kind of good. I guess I'll take it in payment for not telling the Plutarkians about the cave entrance leading so close to their next target. Give the mice in Brimstone a sporting chance I guess."

She slung her bandaged leg over and chuckled.

"Ride free General," she called before revving up and bike and riding off.

--

Kay, that was it. Anyone like it?

It was pretty fun to write Nega actually, she was nasty but not really what I'd call evil. If nothing else, she's interesting. I've always seen the rats in Biker Mice from Mars as more opportunists then really bad, its just bad acts usually bring them more profit, so they go with it.

I'm thinking of making more chapters, maybe when they run into each other after the war, but I'd like your guy's reviews first. Let me know if you want to see more of her and General Stoker goodness.