Thursday, November 24, 2011
Mech Mice Simulation Room and Team Update
The RocketSnail team continues to work on Mech Mice.
The Miller Brothers just got back from Andorra. During the flight they wrote the final chapter of the Mech Mice story (The book is almost finished). Cale just got back from CTN Expo in Burbank California. Did you stop by and get your free Mech Mice postcards? Screenhog composed more music, and spent some time researching Unity shaders. Andrew continues to model the Mech Mice universe. (See above). I spent the week in New Zealand speaking at AnimFX and touring Oktober Animation.
*Bbswimmer5*
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Comic page 3
The RocketSnail team continues to develop the Mech Mice universe. Check out the third and final page of the Mech Mice comic test. Leave your comments below.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Mech Mice 3D Character
Check out the latest 3D version of the mouse character for the Mech Mice game.
*bbswimmer5
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Mech Mice Comic Page TWO
The RocketSnail team continues to develop the Mech Mice property. The Miller Brothers have almost finished writing the story. (They hope to have the book available on Amazon before Christmas) Cale continues to illustrate more chapter illustrations, characters, and fantastic concepts of the Mech Mice Universe. They hired the talented Dapper Dan to create a short 3 page Mech Mice comic. (see above) Screenhog and Andrew are currently modelling the latest version of the mouse for the game. Rocket Snail continues to work on the Mech Mice game and toys.
*Bbswimmer5*
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Mech Mich Comic Page One
The RocketSnail team continues to develop the Mech Mice universe. Check out page 1 from our 3 page Mech Mice comic test.
*Bbswimmer
Friday, October 14, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Heavy Concept Sketches
Cale has been busy sketching Demo’s Mech Suit. Here is a quick collection of illustrations. Cale will rough each sketch with a red or blue pencil, then a dark pen for details.
-Bbswimmer5
Friday, July 29, 2011
CHAPTER FOUR – RIDING THE W.U.R.M.
Nothing could erase the smile from Ziro’s face, not even the gut-wrenching anticipation of being rocketed two hundred tails per second on one of the most rickety transports ever designed. This was a moment he would cherish forever – the Genesis Squad was being deployed.
For the fiftieth time today, Ziro loaded the Mission Objective screen on his wrist communicator. The screen lit up with the details of the his squad’s first mission. He couldn’t help but let his chest swell a bit as he read it one more time. It read:
MISSION: 1
SQUAD: Genesis
STATUS: TOP-SECRET
OBJECTIVE: RECON OF LIWA REGION
ORDERS: SCOUT AREA, OBSERVE AND REPORT
ACTIVITY DIRECTLY TO COL. BLACK.
TRANSPORT: PLATFORM 99 AT 13:00
ACCESS code: I-IIII-II-I
SQUAD: Genesis
STATUS: TOP-SECRET
OBJECTIVE: RECON OF LIWA REGION
ORDERS: SCOUT AREA, OBSERVE AND REPORT
ACTIVITY DIRECTLY TO COL. BLACK.
TRANSPORT: PLATFORM 99 AT 13:00
ACCESS code: I-IIII-II-I
Ziro lowered his arm and stared at the round door to platform 99 in front of him. The number was stenciled onto the iron in black paint.
“This is it,” he said, slightly winded from the long walk. “Behind these doors…our transport awaits…and our first mission begins.”
The new Elite Commander looked proudly over his squad. Streak, Magenta, and Nightshade were already standing beside him, dressed in full battle gear and ready for action. Demo was the last to arrive; his pilot’s jumpsuit already soaked in his own sweat from the long winding hike through the seemingly endless passageways that had led them here. He gasped as he arrived, clutching his side as he closed the final fifteen tails between him and the rest of the squad.
“I thought…we’d never…make it,” the big mouse panted. He covered his mouth and burped loudly. “Phew! Remind me not…to eat so much…before a mission…next time.”
“How many platforms are there anyway?” Streak wondered aloud.
“This is the end of the line,” Nightshade answered. Pointing to where the tunnel came to an abrupt end only a few dozen tails further ahead.
“Better last than never.” Ziro said as he reached for the door. He flipped open a hidden panel in the door revealing sixteen unmarked switches in four even rows. From bottom to top he toggled the appropriate switches in order.
First row: switch one.
Second row: switch four.
Third row: switch two.
Fourth row: switch one.
Second row: switch four.
Third row: switch two.
Fourth row: switch one.
A moment later, the mechanism that secured the door began to click. The door opened. The team stepped into a large but crowded room. The entire space was a cluttered maze of dusty crates and an odd assortment of supplies. A midst the collection there were coils of ropes, a pile of rusty springs, reams of flypaper, barrels of tree sap, boxes of rivets, a few over sized gears, some metal tubing, several bags of expired food rations and a crate of greasy rags to name just a few items.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Magenta eyed Ziro with more than a hint of suspicion. She didn’t like being teased.
Ziro scratched his head in bewilderment, “No. This is the place, alright, I must have double checked the Colonel’s orders a dozen times.”
Ziro scratched his head in bewilderment, “No. This is the place, alright, I must have double checked the Colonel’s orders a dozen times.”
“What a dump. It doesn’t look like its been used in years,” Demo blurted out.
“More like ever,” Magenta snorted, as she slid her claw through a thick layer of dust which covered a wooden crate beside her. “What a waste of time.” She turned to leave.
“Wait!” Ziro replied fanatically, refusing to let his team give up. He raising his wrist communicator once more. “I’m sure there is an honest explanation. I’ll contact the Colonel and get things straightened out.”
“Commander,” Nightshade said in a hushed tone. “I hear something.”
With ears up everyone listened to the faint sound of an electric sizzle, accompanied by the occasional metal clank of a tool. Somebody was working nearby.
“The source seems to be coming from the other side of these crates,” Nightshade added.
Led by Ziro, the team wound their way through the heaping piles of cluttered junk. It was a much deeper room than it first appeared. Eventually, the mess thinned and gave way to an open platform alongside a massive tunnel which stretched into infinite darkness in either direction. Along the ceiling, a series of tunnel-sized harness rings hung from a singular rail. These were the connectors that allowed the diverse selection of modular transports to be deployed down the tunnel.
It was an ingenious system, really, devised by the Mole Guild as a means of delivering troops and supplies to the far corners of the Migeddo valley. Unfortunately, the container that had been chosen to carry Ziro’s squad was a far cry from the sleek new transports that were available to most.
A pair of iron-ribbed, cylindrical containers had already been connected inside their rings. There was nothing attractive about them. they had all the appeal of a pair of tin cans tipped on their side, punched with a few portholes for good measure. The Mech Mice insignia was flaking off on the side near an open hatch. Clearly, this particular transport was more than a few seasons old. Demo wasn’t impressed.
“Ugh…WURMS,” he muttered, “of all the transports in the world we get stuck with a WURM. They should have scrapped these things seasons ago.”
Streak looked confused, “What’s a worm?”
“Technically they are U.R.M.S,” Nightshade answered pointing to a ID number imprinted on the side of the vehicle. The markings were almost completely faded away with age but Streak could just make them out. It read: URMS-23. “It stands for Underground Rodent Mobilization Sleds. But the entire system is so old they have a reputation of being …shall we say…less than stable.”
“Stable?” Demo snorted, “They’re a bunch of death traps, that’s what they are. Hence the W.”
“What does the W stand for?” Streak asked.
“Wretched, Wacked, Wonky…” Magenta explained, “depends who you ask.”
Demo smiled and gave his opinion, “or there’s my favorite, What-A-Piece-Of-…”
Before he could finish his description, a grimy mole popped up from beneath the transport and hoisted himself onto the loading platform. With a broad, jovial smile, he raised his miner’s helmet and blinked at the new arrivals. He was a star nosed mole with enormous paws and brownish black fur.
“Oh ho, you must be them! The one’s Black sent, right?”
Ziro extended his paw and cleared his throat.
“Name’s Ziro…Commander Ziro…and this is my squad,” he said with as much formality as he could muster. The mole eagerly reached out and shook paws with the mouse, transferring the grime from his own paw to Ziro’s in the process.
“I’m Rudd, maintenance engineer for the northern lines. Sorry bout the mess. I don’t get visitors in this area very often. To be honest, I didn’t think we still sent squads up to Liwa. Mostly this is the place we put all the stuff no one wants anymore.”
“I’m Rudd, maintenance engineer for the northern lines. Sorry bout the mess. I don’t get visitors in this area very often. To be honest, I didn’t think we still sent squads up to Liwa. Mostly this is the place we put all the stuff no one wants anymore.”
Ziro wasn’t so sure he liked the sound of that. After all, they were here now. Were they no longer needed? He pushed the thought from his mind and tried to focus on the mission at hand. He turned his attention to the vehicle.
“I assume this is our transport,” he asked, in a somewhat broken voice.
“I assume this is our transport,” he asked, in a somewhat broken voice.
“That she is, lad. And a finer piece of machinery you won’t find anywhere else in these tunnels.” No sooner had the mole said this than a metal handle fell off the door and clattered noisily on the floor. The mole picked up the handle and without even the slightest pause, added, “I was just finishing a few minor repairs on her when you arrived. I’ll have that back on in a twitch of a whisker.”
Ziro shot an embarrassed glance at his team. Their great mission wasn’t exactly off to a glorious start.
“Are you sure she’s…uh…safe,” Ziro squeaked.
“Are you sure she’s…uh…safe,” Ziro squeaked.
“Safe? Of course she’s safe. She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts,” Rudd said proudly. He tapped the fallen door handle against the side of the sled. It echoed like a giant oil drum. “Even made a few adjustments meself.”
“Easy for him to say,” Demo half-whispered to Streak, “It ain’t his hide on the ride.”
“Easy for him to say,” Demo half-whispered to Streak, “It ain’t his hide on the ride.”
Rudd noticed the concern on their faces but he didn’t seem too worried. It’s hard to rattle a mole.
“Anyways, yer heavy suit and field supplies are being loaded in the cargo container. Why dont’s ya go on in and find yer seats. I’ll finish up the repairs real quick like.”
“Anyways, yer heavy suit and field supplies are being loaded in the cargo container. Why dont’s ya go on in and find yer seats. I’ll finish up the repairs real quick like.”
Ziro and Rudd exchanged nods and the maintenance mole set to work reattaching the handle to the cargo bay door. While the rest of the squad started toward the entrance of the forward transport, Demo turned the other way.
“Oh yeah! Now that’s what I’m talking about…” Demo gawked as a robotic claw arm moved across the platform with a large item in its grasp. Streak joined the big mouse to see what all the commotion was all about. “My first real suit,” Demo sighed, completely oblivious to everything else except the heavy suit being loaded in the transport. “Isn’t she a beauty.”
“Oh yeah! Now that’s what I’m talking about…” Demo gawked as a robotic claw arm moved across the platform with a large item in its grasp. Streak joined the big mouse to see what all the commotion was all about. “My first real suit,” Demo sighed, completely oblivious to everything else except the heavy suit being loaded in the transport. “Isn’t she a beauty.”
“I guess,” Streak replied. He couldn’t help notice a slight tear forming in the corner of Demo’s eye but he wasn’t about to say anything. Demo put his hand on Streak’s head and messed up his hair.
“You know what they say, little buddy. The two biggest days in a Heavy’s life are the day he first gets his suit, and the day he dies in it. Thanks for sharing the moment.”
“Well you can’t die yet,” Streak said, playfully punching Demo on the arm. “We still have a WURM to ride.”
“Oh right,” Demo said, sarcastically. “thanks for reminding me.”
“Oh right,” Demo said, sarcastically. “thanks for reminding me.”
The squad filed into the front most sled. The interior of the transport was a bit less of an eye sore, but not by much. There were two captain’s chairs in the cockpit, and four jump seats immediately behind them. It was tight quarters, to be sure, but the U.R.M.S. weren’t built for comfort – it was a utility vehicle.
Near the front of the vehicle, just under the four circular porthole windows that overlooked the track, lay a large control panel with dozens of flashing lights and a central monitor.
With the most piloting experience, Demo took the controls alongside Magenta and started loading the coordinates for Liwa into the auto-pilot. The others harnessed themselves into the remaining seats in anticipation of Rudd’s return. Ziro tried to relax, but he hated riding in these things. He’d only done it once before and had nearly lost his lunch. He spotted a safety card in a pocket alongside his seat and pulled it out.
“You do know nobody ever reads those things,” Magenta said.
Ziro nodded. He pretended to drop it on his lap, but cast a glance down anyway when Magenta wasn’t looking.
It provided an illustrative detail of a typical WURM ride. The pictures were simply drawn and almost humorous in places if it weren’t about to be happening to you.
It provided an illustrative detail of a typical WURM ride. The pictures were simply drawn and almost humorous in places if it weren’t about to be happening to you.
The first diagram in the sequence portrayed a crew of mice strapped securely into their seats. Ziro put a mental check in the box. The second picture showed the rocket igniting and the vehicle racing down the tunnel tracks at nearly 200 tails per second. At this he cringed. Already he could feel his stomach turning. Below this, an insert illustration showed the passengers all smiling in their seats, except for one who had was holding a paper sack to his mouth. Ziro swallowed and tried not to think about it.
He skimmed over the rest of the pictures without truly paying attention to them. Even though he had only ridden a WURM once before, what followed had left an indelible mark on his life. There would be the sudden ratcheting stop as the transport reached its final destination. The crew would disembark the vessel and make their way to the chutes where they would be sucked up to the surface in a heartbeat. Ziro shuddered at the thought of the moments ahead and tried to remind himself that it was part of being an Elite Guard.
Even though this was only a training mission, he was now one step closer to fulfilling his lifelong dream and making his family proud. My how things had changed since yesterday.
Twenty four hours ago: Ziro had sat in paralyzing silence, nervously rehearsing what he might say to convince the Colonel to give his team another chance.
Ten minutes later: An explosion of paperwork rocked the quiet reception room, sending Ziro diving for cover and the Colonel’s previous appointment fleeing for his life. Colonel Black beckoned Ziro into his paper-strewn den and read the squad’s Training Report aloud. It wasn’t good.
When put down in black and white, the results were clear. Ziro knew if ever there was a time to stick out his whiskers and make a bold defense for his team’s merits it would have to be now. Surprisingly, it was precisely at that same moment, seventy minutes ago that everything changed. Without warning, Colonel Black tore the report into pieces, letting the bits of it flutter down to be counted among the growing number of casualties in his recent war on paperwork.
“Forget the blasted reports…you’ve got instincts, kid. Know what your problem is? You need to stop relying on all this worthless technology and start trusting your guts. The only trouble is…I’m not sure you’re ready for this,” he had said.
“Sir, I was born for this,” Ziro answered confidently.
Colonel Black didn’t smile (he rarely did) but Ziro could tell he was pleased with the answer.
“Good. You have 24 hours until deployment,” Black replied. “Gather your team and complete one trial mission for me and I’ll consider keeping you in the program a little longer. Do we have a deal, Commander? Are you ready to be an Elite?”
Ziro remembered those last words well. It’s what gave him the strength to ride the WURM. He was ready.
“Well, that should do it, yes,” Rudd said, sticking his head through the side door, and startling Ziro from his thoughts. “The repairs are finished and the track is clear, see. Is everybody strapped tight?”
Demo nodded in reply. “Coordinates are set, we’re ready for launch, and it’s a good way to die if this rust bucket doesn’t hold.”
“She’ll hold, right,” Rudd said, giving the thumbs up. “Ears up, mice!”
“Ears up,” the squad shouted in unison.
Rudd smiled and slammed the door shut, latching them in the notorious WURM. There was no backing down now. No escape from the horrors of tube travel.
Demo pressed a red button, and the rocket engine began to ignite. He adjusted a few dials, as the roar from the rocket grew steadily louder. The entire transport started to shake and rattle from the building pressure of the rocket’s power. At times, Ziro wondered if the whole thing would rattle apart before they left the platform. Part of him hoped it might…the other part…
“Hold on to your tails, kids…this is where it gets fun,” Demo shouted. He released a lever and the transport shot forward like a bullet from a gun. Before Ziro could even say a prayer, they were hurling down the black throat of a winding tunnel toward Liwa.
“Yeeeeeehaw!” Streak shouted, clearly enjoying every minute of it.
Ziro felt sick…with each lurch and drop in the track, every turn or jolt, he could feel his stomach sickening. Even so, he couldn’t force the smile off his face. It was the best moment of his life.
Mission One had begun.
~At709~
~At709~
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Chapter 3-Old School
Chapter 3 is finally here!! If you read 1 and two then you will know that ziro got zapped and got sent down with the lab rats. Now he has come to see colonel Black. Here is chapter 3.
CHAPTER THREE – OLD SCHOOL
Colonel Black bit hard on the squirming grub and frowned as he chewed. It was too sweet, he much preferred bitter bugs. He set the remainder of his meal back on his plate and scowled at the blabbering fool who sat across the desk from him.
Nothing about the grey field mouse impressed the Colonel. He was a new face, but still a stooge. One of those overdressed, underprepared, delivery mice sent down from the General’s office. The grub smelled of cheap cologne and was rambling far too long to keep Black’s attention. He had started talking three minutes ago and the Colonel could tell they were no nearer to the real reason this mouse was even here.
“As you will see from my report, Colonel,” the young mouse boasted as he pushed a large pile of paper across the desk, “Increasing our patrols of the southern meadows has been very productive. The tribes there seem very grateful for our presence and we’ve managed to liberate quite a few of them from all kinds of beasts. Alpha is very pleased with the results. His popularity has grown considerably among our great Colony. Despite the dwindling number of recruits it’s our hope that…”
Black was getting impatient. “By my uncle’s whiskers, would you spit it out already? I haven’t got time for this nonsense, and I could care less what is in your report. I’m here to do a job, I suggest you do yours and tell me what you came here to say.”
The mouse trembled a bit and nervously wiped his brow. Black may have been a small shrew, but he never let anyone push him around. He knew this pup was only a glorified messenger, but that didn’t mean he had to make his job any easier.
“Well…Sir, General Hatchet feels that increasing the number of Elite Guards by six squads before the new moon could be just the thing we need,” said the mouse.
“Six squads,” the Colonel bellowed.
“Yes sir, after all, the Elites are our most visible and marketable assets. With more Elites in the field, more mice may be inspired to join. After all, the General wants the largest army ever assembled ready before the first snowfall.”
“The General is a buffoon!”
“I…beg your pardon,” the messenger said, clearly shaken by the boldness of this little Shrew in expressing his opinions.
“You heard me!”
The Colonel lowered his bushy eyebrows, picked up the thick stack of papers and waved it in front of the messenger’s nose, “Tell me, son, where exactly does this magical report suggest I find enough mice capable of bearing the responsibility of six Elite squads?”
The question caught the young officer completely off guard. He hardly knew what to say.
“That’s not really…”
The Colonel interrupted, his voice rising as his agitation with his situation grew.
“Not everything is about numbers. Whatever happened to strategy, to tactics? Do you even know what it means to be an Elite Guard?”
The messenger squirmed in his chair, but said nothing. Like a wind before a hurricane, the Colonel was just getting started.
“Our Elites are highly trained combat units, masters of stealth, fearless fighters, capable of survival in any environment. They are battle hardened, tough tailed, killers who’d rather cut off a paw than lose a mission. That’s the kind of mice I need!” The Colonel’s ears were now burning red. He took a deep breath and continued his tirade, spitting furiously as he shouted. “The mice I have are a bunch of sloppy, spineless, rookies who rely far too much on these fancy new tech-toys the General keeps giving them to figure anything out on their own. They wouldn’t know real battle tactics if it kicked them in the tail. That’s the mice I have.”
There was a long silence as the messenger measured his next words carefully.
“Surely there must be some among the grunts who you could promote.”
Before the Colonel could respond, the communicator on his desk interrupted. A small screen lit up and the face of Mildra appeared.
“Colonel, Commander Ziro is here to see you, sir,” she said in a decidedly drab voice.
“Make him wait,” the Colonel shouted, but Mildra didn’t disappear.
“Uh sir,” the young messenger offered, “you have to press the red…”
“I know what I’m doing, you twit,” the Colonel said. He pressed the red button and all of a sudden a second face lit up on the screen. It was his wife.
“Oh, hello Smoochie,” the shrew on the screen answered. “I wasn’t expecting you to call so…”
“Blast,” the Colonel shouted as he pressed another button. This time it was Mildra again.
“Sir…did you want me to send him in?”
“No! No…for crying out loud…NO!” He slammed his fist against the machine and her face disappeared at last. This was exactly what was wrong with the world today. Too much technology, too many contraptions. The Colonel sighed and looked back at the messenger mouse who was sitting across from him, mouth agape and eyes wide with shock. The mouse quickly regained his composure and extended an olive branch to the befuddled Colonel.
“Listen, Colonel. I’ll do my best to relay your concerns back to the General, but with the Alpha’s approval already granted, I’m not sure there is anything that can be done about it. I suggest you do your best with what you’ve got and we’ll see if we can’t work something out in the meantime. Okay?”
“Get out of my den,” the Colonel growled.
“But sir, I…”
Black picked up the report that had started the whole ordeal and hopped down from his stool. He headed for the corner of the room, rolled it up and shoved it into the barrel of a device that looked vaguely like a bazooka. He cranked back on the spring loaded lever and shouldered the weapon, aiming it’s crosshairs at the now frightened Lieutenant.
“I said, get out of my den, and tell General Hatchet he can put this in his report next time!”
The mouse scrambled frantically to gather his briefcase and scurried for the door. All the while, the Colonel chuckled to himself and kept the cross hairs steady with the well groomed dunce. Just as the messenger threw open the door the Colonel clawed the trigger and sent a massive flurry of paperwork out of the barrel and into the office and the hallway beyond.
The messenger rushed out of the den toward the reception hole where Ziro sat patiently waiting.
“That mouse is insane,” he shouted at Mildra as he stormed out of the den altogether.
Satisfied with himself, the Colonel dropped his weapon, slammed his door and headed back to his desk amidst a snowfall of paper that made his office feel much like a snow globe. He sat there basking in the glory of his battle won. For a moment, it felt like the good old days when he was still in the field…still getting things done. He sighed.
“How did I ever end up here,” he said softly to himself. He let his eyes wander around the walls of his den. Every inch of it was a testament to the early days of war. Photographs of gritty battles and war-time posters hung in perfect order on his walls along with artifacts and weapons from the good old days. In many ways, his den served as a museum of memories from the age of gears and springs.
Yes, he was an Old World kind of shrew, with plenty of field duty and more than a few scars to show for it. The virtues of war were bred into his nature. It was a much a part of him as his tail. Like his great grandfather, Black had been Commander of the most decorated Elite squad in theMech Mice guard history. The Venom squad.
Ah, those were the days, Venom could strike swiftly and silently. No one had seen them the night they infiltrated deep into enemy territory and took down the Dark Union. It was Black’s bite that had sent the dreaded Dr. Verminion, leader of the Dark Union, tumbling to his doom. Black was a war hero – a legend even. But that was long ago. Now, he was little more than a paper-pusher. A relic of war in a museum of his making.
How times had changed. Under the new leadership of General Hatchet it seemed like missions were more about meeting quotas, expanding the Colony borders and gaining popularity than it was about eradicating what remained of Verminion’s army. Many of the battles being fought now were un-necessary distractions. Too quickly fought and too easily won. He had been around long enough to know something was up. Why were they focusing so much energy on the southern meadows and hardly any to the north in Liwa? There hadn’t been a squad sent to Liwa in at least three seasons. And yet, despite the Mech Mice absence things had been quiet in Liwa. Too quiet.
Black had his suspicions. He even had the courage to voice his concerns before the Mech Mice council once before. A lot of good that did. It was what landed him in this lousy job stamping papers. If he had any hope of discovering the truth, he couldn’t do it publicly.
If only there were a way to put things right again. To prove to the council that the Colony was at risk of attack from the north too. Who was he kidding? His tactics weren’t needed anymore. He had quotas to meet – General Hatchet’s orders.
He glanced down at his paper snow covered desk and spotted a single blue paper. It was another one of those digital field reports from the battle simulator. This one was for the Genesis squad. As usual, the report was already graded by a central server. The recommendation was to dismantle the team and send them back to basic training. Normally, he wouldn’t even give the report a second look – he’d call the commanding team leader in and deliver the news – but this time, something made him pause.
He half-heartedly scanned the report a second time. Surprisingly, there were a few bright spots in the report, not Elite status by a long-shot, but not horrible either. They needed a lot of work. Then, a subtle smile crept across the snout of the shrew and he did something he had wanted to do for a long time. He made a decision on his own.
If it was numbers the General wanted, he would give it to him. He’d approve these less than perfect grunts and give them a shot at the big time. But first, he’d give them a special trial mission to test their worthiness. If they failed, he’d just be following orders. But maybe…just maybe…they’d manage to come back with something useful from the field. Liwa would be the perfect place to start. Nobody would be expecting it.
“Oh-ho-ho Augustus, you are a clever little shrew,” he said, chuckling to himself.
He depressed the red button on his desk communicator to call this Commander Ziro in for the news, but it was his wife’s face that appeared instead of Mildras.
“Smoochie? Is that you again,” his wife asked.
“Blast!” he cursed and slammed his fist against the device. The image went black.
He hopped down from his stool and headed for the door. He’d do this the Old School way.
-At709
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Mech Mice Sneak Peek
Here is a video of sneak peek of mech mice.
The video is pretty cool. I like when they show how they build the mice. Tell me what you like in comments.
-At709
The video is pretty cool. I like when they show how they build the mice. Tell me what you like in comments.
-At709
Shop
If you would like to buy stuff from us go to http://mechmicemaniastore.webs.com/apps/cafepress_shop/ . If you go there you will see stuff like this.
This is one of our t-shirts. For more info go to http://mechmicemania-bbswimmer.blogspot.com/p/shop.html .
-At709
This is one of our t-shirts. For more info go to http://mechmicemania-bbswimmer.blogspot.com/p/shop.html .
-At709
Mech Mice Home Page
If you go to the mech mice homepage you will see just a picture. rsnail is working on converting allof the mech mice posts from the rocketsnail website to the mech mice site. Here is what the home page looks like.
I think It looks pretty cool.
-At709
I think It looks pretty cool.
-At709
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Mech Mice Sneak Peek
Here is a sneak peek at the Mech Mice Heavy battle suit. We plan to release more details in the next couple months.
-At709
Mech Mice Chapter Two
Ziro was dead. Again. It was the second time this week and it was only Wednesday. The whole thing was starting to get on his nerves.
The worst part was knowing General Black would be grading their performance today. Black had recently returned to the Academy to oversee the enlistment of the next generation of Elite Guards. If the Genesis squad miraculously managed to impress him this week, they’d be in. Unfortunately, today’s blunders had pretty much killed their chances. Wrapped in the blanket of death’s darkness Ziro replayed his failure over and over until…
Wurp. Wurp. Wuuuurp.
An ear-splitting siren broke through the darkness. It was a horrid, over-amplified sound designed to wake the dead out of digital slumber. Ziro couldn’t ignore it if he wanted to. Startled, he awoke gasping for breath and fumbling with the darkened visor that blocked his sight. It would take a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the familiar but dimly lit space around him. Even before he could see anything, he knew exactly where he was.
It was the simulation room – a massive underground cavern used as a digital training facility for MechMice guards. Here they could practice their tactics in the safety of the Academy Burrow without concern for enemy spies.
Each of the mice were reclined and harnessed in egg-shaped pods which circled the perimeter of the room. In all, there were twenty pods connected to the central computer through an intricate network of root-like cables which wound across the floor to the center of the room.
Near the hub a pair of white rats wearing lab coats, thick glasses and black gloves monitored a tower of blinking lights and digital screens. Brothers Enzo and Axel were mirror images of each other, right down to the black spots on opposite ears. They were the creative brains behind the battle simulator and only left their work in the underground cavern when necessary. From the looks of their scraggly fur, it hadn’t been necessary in quite some time.
A flashing red light over Ziro’s pod alerted the two rats to his re-entry. In long, lanky steps, they moved with uncanny synchronized steps toward the awakening Commander.
Enzo was the first to speak in a broken Eastland accent, “Ello, Commandee. Ow was you mar-shon?”
By ‘mar-shon’ the rat meant ‘mission’. Over time, Ziro had grown accustomed to the lab rats’ sloppy butchery of the Colonial language which was spoken by all civilized mice. To be fair, Axel and Enzo had limited communication with the outside world. They were so wrapped up in their work here, their linguistic skills were naturally not as finely tuned as most civilians.
“I died,” Ziro simply stated. What else was there to say? He liked the lab mice, even considered them friends, but today he wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat. He stood to leave as soon as the pod lock was disengaged.
“Remeem-ber, you’ll be a leettle doozy at first,” Axel warned. “Doon’t moof so fast-lee.”
Ziro didn’t listen. He tossed his visor onto the empty seat and stepped out of the pod anyway. With over 200 simulation trainings under his belt, he knew the drill. His body had become accustomed to re-entry. It was like waking up from a dream…in this case, a very bad one.
The lab rats exchanged knowing glances then looked back at Ziro. Both were eagerly twiddling their paws together in front of themselves like giddy schoolboys. It was as if they were expecting Ziro to say something else.
“What?” Ziro asked, feeling awkward.
“Excuses us, but deed you appen to no-teese…” Enzo started to say before his brother excitedly interrupted and finished his sentence for him.
“…the leetle upgrade we’s mades? Mmmm?”
Ziro shook his head without giving much thought to the question. He really didn’t care about any simulation upgrades. He had bigger things on his mind…like trying to figure out how to beat Nitro next time.
“Saps,” Axel finally declared triumphantly, “We made de sap on de treez!”
“Sap? Wow…yeah that’s…uh…that’s great,” Ziro answered nonchalantly. “You guys are really living the dream down here, aren’t ya.”
“Indeeds,” Enzo said with a smile. “But what ‘bouts you, Commandee?”
“What about me?” Ziro wondered aloud. Still lost in his own thoughts.
“Are you…leeving the dreams?”
The question caught him off guard. Ziro thought about the question for a moment. Was he living his dream? As a pup he had always imagined himself being a brave commander and leading his troops into battle against the forces of evil.
“Sure, I guess. I’m just a little behind schedule that’s all. I had planned on making Elite status last season. Being a grunt guard is fine, but it’s the Elites that get to see the real action. It’d be nice to know what I’m doing actually mattered.”
Enzo nodded his head and replied in an even, knowing voice, “You knows how long we’s been trying to put saps in de treez?”
Ziro almost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t the least bit interested in digital sap. “I dunno, a week?”
“Threes seasons,” Axel answered.
“You’ve been working on saps…er…I mean sap for three seasons?”
“Yups,” Enzo replied, “We gets it wrong many times. Fail is part of learning. See? Pay-sheents, Commandee. You squid will be Elite soons.”
“Yes…soons. Am sures of it!” Axel interjected.
“I’m glad somebody believes in us.”
The rats moved back to their consoles and busied themselves with the rest of their work. Ziro took a moment to view the rest of the pods occupied by the remainder of his squad. One was empty. Streak was gone.
“Poor kid,” Ziro thought to himself.
In a few moments the others would start to awake. They were all dressed alike in the same standard issue drab jumpsuits. An embroidered logo on their left chest pocket is what identified them as members of the Genesis squad. Ziro normally took pride in that logo. After all, he had designed it himself. But today he found little pleasure in seeing it…or his team. He needed space. Time to think. He marched toward the exit.
“Tell the others to meet in the mess hole, will ya,” Ziro asked Enzo and Axel as he passed by. They nodded in reply. Already they were firing furiously away at their keyboards, probably coding something really exciting… like fungal spores.
************
The entire Genesis squad sat hunched over a long table; heads hung low, spirits crushed. Demo was the only one actually eating the bowl full of slop the galley staff was pawning as ‘food’ today. He was already on his third bowl, guzzling it down quicker than a rodent twice his size. The others watched in stunned silence.
“You know, I really thought we had that one,” Demo said between sloppy mouthfuls. “I was really feeling it, man. We were this close…inches away from the final artifact and then. WHAMMO!”
The powerful mouse pounded the table loudly with his fist for effect and in the process startled half the room with the sound. An overweight chef behind the counter shot a warning look at the squad then continued serving his slop to a long line of customers. Already there were nearly a hundred mice lining the long tables of the mess hole, hundreds more would be on their way as soon as the next round of challenges ended.
“What happened?” Streak asked, trying to catch up with the others. Having been eliminated first in the mission, he was anxious to hear how things ended up.
“Nitro happened, as usual,” Magenta replied, her voice ripe with hatred for the mouse that had plagued their lives. “That guy doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”
Ziro tried to redirect their frustration.
“It wasn’t Nitro,” Ziro said, “It was us.”
“Oh common,” Magenta groaned, “you aren’t actually going to give this guy a pass are ya?”
“Look, I know we’re all disappointed with the loss, but we need to use this as a chance to improve our focus. I’ve been thinking about it and Nitro was right about one thing, we should have been watching our backs. We were off our game, that’s all.”
Magenta shook her head is disbelief. “Have we ever been ‘on’ our game?”
Ziro tried to form a response, but came up empty. He knew exactly how they felt. A depressed silence passed between the crew.
“This stinks. Name one thing he’s got that we don’t got,” Demo asked.
“The camera loves him,” Streak said, pointing to a poster advertisement for the MechMice Elite Squads on a nearby wall. It was supposed to be an inspiration to younger mice. A bright red slogan that read, ‘BE ELITE…SAVE THE COLONY!’ was etched across the top in bold, letters. Just below it, an animated hologram of Nitro moved in the frame. A well polished smile cut across his face.
“He gives me the creeps. Who does he think he is anyway?” Magenta spat.
“An Elite,” Ziro answered, somewhat to himself.
“Who cares what you call him…he’s still a jerk.”
“You can say that again,” said Demo, clinching his fists together. “we’ve got the guts but he steals the glory. When are we going to catch a break, Chief?”
“I…I dunno,” Ziro shrugged. His team needed inspiration, but he was out of ideas. “Look, at least we have each other. As long as we keep trying, what’s the worst that can happen.”
Nightshade had sat in silence the entire time, listening to the conversation unfold. Now, he cleared his throat and offered his own logical explanation for their failure.
“When a system isn’t working in its current form, it’s often wise to restructure how it is assembled.”
“What does that mean?” Demo asked.
Magenta interpreted for the team, “Are you saying they might break up the team?”
“In my estimation it is a definite probability,” Nightshade clarified.
Before anyone could respond to Nightshade’s new revelation, the stern and rather unpleasant voice of the General’s secretary squawked over the PA system with practiced monotony. Mildra’s words made Ziro’s fur stand on end.
“Commander Ziro please report to General Black’s Den…immediately.”
Suddenly, the entire mess hole went silent…dead silent. Every eye fell on Ziro. Few had ever been invited into the General’s Den and those that had, rarely came back. Ziro rubbed his whiskers and in a rather squeaky voice tried to make light of the situation.
“Ehem. It’s…it’s probably nothing. Perhaps he just wants to offer a few pointers or something, right guys?”
He looked to Magenta to back him up. Instead, she immediately turned away before her eyes betrayed what she really thought. Who was he kidding? There could be only one reason he was being asked to join the General. He was in deep trouble for their performance today.
“Well, we don’t want to keep the General waiting.”
Rising from the table, Ziro mustered his confidence and strode toward the exit. With each step, a crowd of mice parted to clear a path to the double doors for their unfortunate comrade. All eyes followed Ziro’s movement as he passed by. He pushed the door open and took one last glance over his shoulder at his team. He let the door close behind him and faced the long tunnel ahead alone.
As he went, a flood of questions rolled through his mind. What could General Black possibly want with him? As commander of the Genesis squad, he would ultimately take the blame for their failure. But what of his dream of becoming an Elite Guard, was that about to be over too? If Nightshade’s analysis was right, as was often the case, he might never lead his squad again.
With each passing paw step, Ziro’s concern grew and grew until at last he stood before the great circular door which led to the General’s Den. He pressed his paw against a control panel and waited. Shortly after, Mildra’s voice buzzed through a speaker in as drab a tone as ever.
“Yes?”
“Uh…Commander Ziro here. I was asked to…”
“Yes,” Mildra interrupted. The circular door spiraled open spilling a harsh amber light into the Burrow tunnel. Ziro took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Will the Genesis squad be torn apart? Will Ziro’s hopes of being an Elite Guard ever come true? Will Enzo and Axel ever be program fungal spores? Tune in next month for another exciting chapter in…MECH MICE!!!
Bbswimmer5
The worst part was knowing General Black would be grading their performance today. Black had recently returned to the Academy to oversee the enlistment of the next generation of Elite Guards. If the Genesis squad miraculously managed to impress him this week, they’d be in. Unfortunately, today’s blunders had pretty much killed their chances. Wrapped in the blanket of death’s darkness Ziro replayed his failure over and over until…
Wurp. Wurp. Wuuuurp.
An ear-splitting siren broke through the darkness. It was a horrid, over-amplified sound designed to wake the dead out of digital slumber. Ziro couldn’t ignore it if he wanted to. Startled, he awoke gasping for breath and fumbling with the darkened visor that blocked his sight. It would take a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the familiar but dimly lit space around him. Even before he could see anything, he knew exactly where he was.
It was the simulation room – a massive underground cavern used as a digital training facility for MechMice guards. Here they could practice their tactics in the safety of the Academy Burrow without concern for enemy spies.
Each of the mice were reclined and harnessed in egg-shaped pods which circled the perimeter of the room. In all, there were twenty pods connected to the central computer through an intricate network of root-like cables which wound across the floor to the center of the room.
Near the hub a pair of white rats wearing lab coats, thick glasses and black gloves monitored a tower of blinking lights and digital screens. Brothers Enzo and Axel were mirror images of each other, right down to the black spots on opposite ears. They were the creative brains behind the battle simulator and only left their work in the underground cavern when necessary. From the looks of their scraggly fur, it hadn’t been necessary in quite some time.
A flashing red light over Ziro’s pod alerted the two rats to his re-entry. In long, lanky steps, they moved with uncanny synchronized steps toward the awakening Commander.
Enzo was the first to speak in a broken Eastland accent, “Ello, Commandee. Ow was you mar-shon?”
By ‘mar-shon’ the rat meant ‘mission’. Over time, Ziro had grown accustomed to the lab rats’ sloppy butchery of the Colonial language which was spoken by all civilized mice. To be fair, Axel and Enzo had limited communication with the outside world. They were so wrapped up in their work here, their linguistic skills were naturally not as finely tuned as most civilians.
“I died,” Ziro simply stated. What else was there to say? He liked the lab mice, even considered them friends, but today he wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat. He stood to leave as soon as the pod lock was disengaged.
“Remeem-ber, you’ll be a leettle doozy at first,” Axel warned. “Doon’t moof so fast-lee.”
Ziro didn’t listen. He tossed his visor onto the empty seat and stepped out of the pod anyway. With over 200 simulation trainings under his belt, he knew the drill. His body had become accustomed to re-entry. It was like waking up from a dream…in this case, a very bad one.
The lab rats exchanged knowing glances then looked back at Ziro. Both were eagerly twiddling their paws together in front of themselves like giddy schoolboys. It was as if they were expecting Ziro to say something else.
“What?” Ziro asked, feeling awkward.
“Excuses us, but deed you appen to no-teese…” Enzo started to say before his brother excitedly interrupted and finished his sentence for him.
“…the leetle upgrade we’s mades? Mmmm?”
Ziro shook his head without giving much thought to the question. He really didn’t care about any simulation upgrades. He had bigger things on his mind…like trying to figure out how to beat Nitro next time.
“Saps,” Axel finally declared triumphantly, “We made de sap on de treez!”
“Sap? Wow…yeah that’s…uh…that’s great,” Ziro answered nonchalantly. “You guys are really living the dream down here, aren’t ya.”
“Indeeds,” Enzo said with a smile. “But what ‘bouts you, Commandee?”
“What about me?” Ziro wondered aloud. Still lost in his own thoughts.
“Are you…leeving the dreams?”
The question caught him off guard. Ziro thought about the question for a moment. Was he living his dream? As a pup he had always imagined himself being a brave commander and leading his troops into battle against the forces of evil.
“Sure, I guess. I’m just a little behind schedule that’s all. I had planned on making Elite status last season. Being a grunt guard is fine, but it’s the Elites that get to see the real action. It’d be nice to know what I’m doing actually mattered.”
Enzo nodded his head and replied in an even, knowing voice, “You knows how long we’s been trying to put saps in de treez?”
Ziro almost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t the least bit interested in digital sap. “I dunno, a week?”
“Threes seasons,” Axel answered.
“You’ve been working on saps…er…I mean sap for three seasons?”
“Yups,” Enzo replied, “We gets it wrong many times. Fail is part of learning. See? Pay-sheents, Commandee. You squid will be Elite soons.”
“Yes…soons. Am sures of it!” Axel interjected.
“I’m glad somebody believes in us.”
The rats moved back to their consoles and busied themselves with the rest of their work. Ziro took a moment to view the rest of the pods occupied by the remainder of his squad. One was empty. Streak was gone.
“Poor kid,” Ziro thought to himself.
In a few moments the others would start to awake. They were all dressed alike in the same standard issue drab jumpsuits. An embroidered logo on their left chest pocket is what identified them as members of the Genesis squad. Ziro normally took pride in that logo. After all, he had designed it himself. But today he found little pleasure in seeing it…or his team. He needed space. Time to think. He marched toward the exit.
“Tell the others to meet in the mess hole, will ya,” Ziro asked Enzo and Axel as he passed by. They nodded in reply. Already they were firing furiously away at their keyboards, probably coding something really exciting… like fungal spores.
************
The entire Genesis squad sat hunched over a long table; heads hung low, spirits crushed. Demo was the only one actually eating the bowl full of slop the galley staff was pawning as ‘food’ today. He was already on his third bowl, guzzling it down quicker than a rodent twice his size. The others watched in stunned silence.
“You know, I really thought we had that one,” Demo said between sloppy mouthfuls. “I was really feeling it, man. We were this close…inches away from the final artifact and then. WHAMMO!”
The powerful mouse pounded the table loudly with his fist for effect and in the process startled half the room with the sound. An overweight chef behind the counter shot a warning look at the squad then continued serving his slop to a long line of customers. Already there were nearly a hundred mice lining the long tables of the mess hole, hundreds more would be on their way as soon as the next round of challenges ended.
“What happened?” Streak asked, trying to catch up with the others. Having been eliminated first in the mission, he was anxious to hear how things ended up.
“Nitro happened, as usual,” Magenta replied, her voice ripe with hatred for the mouse that had plagued their lives. “That guy doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”
Ziro tried to redirect their frustration.
“It wasn’t Nitro,” Ziro said, “It was us.”
“Oh common,” Magenta groaned, “you aren’t actually going to give this guy a pass are ya?”
“Look, I know we’re all disappointed with the loss, but we need to use this as a chance to improve our focus. I’ve been thinking about it and Nitro was right about one thing, we should have been watching our backs. We were off our game, that’s all.”
Magenta shook her head is disbelief. “Have we ever been ‘on’ our game?”
Ziro tried to form a response, but came up empty. He knew exactly how they felt. A depressed silence passed between the crew.
“This stinks. Name one thing he’s got that we don’t got,” Demo asked.
“The camera loves him,” Streak said, pointing to a poster advertisement for the MechMice Elite Squads on a nearby wall. It was supposed to be an inspiration to younger mice. A bright red slogan that read, ‘BE ELITE…SAVE THE COLONY!’ was etched across the top in bold, letters. Just below it, an animated hologram of Nitro moved in the frame. A well polished smile cut across his face.
“He gives me the creeps. Who does he think he is anyway?” Magenta spat.
“An Elite,” Ziro answered, somewhat to himself.
“Who cares what you call him…he’s still a jerk.”
“You can say that again,” said Demo, clinching his fists together. “we’ve got the guts but he steals the glory. When are we going to catch a break, Chief?”
“I…I dunno,” Ziro shrugged. His team needed inspiration, but he was out of ideas. “Look, at least we have each other. As long as we keep trying, what’s the worst that can happen.”
Nightshade had sat in silence the entire time, listening to the conversation unfold. Now, he cleared his throat and offered his own logical explanation for their failure.
“When a system isn’t working in its current form, it’s often wise to restructure how it is assembled.”
“What does that mean?” Demo asked.
Magenta interpreted for the team, “Are you saying they might break up the team?”
“In my estimation it is a definite probability,” Nightshade clarified.
Before anyone could respond to Nightshade’s new revelation, the stern and rather unpleasant voice of the General’s secretary squawked over the PA system with practiced monotony. Mildra’s words made Ziro’s fur stand on end.
“Commander Ziro please report to General Black’s Den…immediately.”
Suddenly, the entire mess hole went silent…dead silent. Every eye fell on Ziro. Few had ever been invited into the General’s Den and those that had, rarely came back. Ziro rubbed his whiskers and in a rather squeaky voice tried to make light of the situation.
“Ehem. It’s…it’s probably nothing. Perhaps he just wants to offer a few pointers or something, right guys?”
He looked to Magenta to back him up. Instead, she immediately turned away before her eyes betrayed what she really thought. Who was he kidding? There could be only one reason he was being asked to join the General. He was in deep trouble for their performance today.
“Well, we don’t want to keep the General waiting.”
Rising from the table, Ziro mustered his confidence and strode toward the exit. With each step, a crowd of mice parted to clear a path to the double doors for their unfortunate comrade. All eyes followed Ziro’s movement as he passed by. He pushed the door open and took one last glance over his shoulder at his team. He let the door close behind him and faced the long tunnel ahead alone.
As he went, a flood of questions rolled through his mind. What could General Black possibly want with him? As commander of the Genesis squad, he would ultimately take the blame for their failure. But what of his dream of becoming an Elite Guard, was that about to be over too? If Nightshade’s analysis was right, as was often the case, he might never lead his squad again.
With each passing paw step, Ziro’s concern grew and grew until at last he stood before the great circular door which led to the General’s Den. He pressed his paw against a control panel and waited. Shortly after, Mildra’s voice buzzed through a speaker in as drab a tone as ever.
“Yes?”
“Uh…Commander Ziro here. I was asked to…”
“Yes,” Mildra interrupted. The circular door spiraled open spilling a harsh amber light into the Burrow tunnel. Ziro took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Will the Genesis squad be torn apart? Will Ziro’s hopes of being an Elite Guard ever come true? Will Enzo and Axel ever be program fungal spores? Tune in next month for another exciting chapter in…MECH MICE!!!
Bbswimmer5
Mech Mice Chapter One
In seven minutes, the world would end. It was the stuff heroes were made for.
Evening’s last light clung desperately to the horizon, unwilling to surrender day’s final breath into the choking grip of night. It was a colorful death. Red gave way to purple and finally to a deep indigo blue, framing the edges of the rugged terrain like an artist frames a masterpiece. Like clockwork, the ancient war between day and night continued on, but this battle belonged to the night.
Beneath the wounded sky a broad meadow stretched out wrapped in a thick forest of ironbark trees. All was still in the meadow. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath in honor of the sacred event.
Silently, the blackened silhouette of a lone field mouse cut across the blood red skyline with determined speed. Having reached the edge of the forest, the mouse pressed itself against a tree and listened. His ears moved like radars in search of any sound of danger. The coast was clear.
He raised his forearm to his face and a backlit screen appeared on his wrist, casting a blue glow over his features and displaying a countdown in big black digits. Six minutes, forty seconds remained; he was running late.
This was no ordinary field mouse. Dressed from claw to collar in black and red battle armor, he was a highly trained commander for the MechMice Guard. It was his sworn duty to protect the citizens of the Colonies from invasion – no matter what the cost.
Ziro was a rugged, young mouse with broad shoulders, reddish fur and nerves of steel. He carried himself with a confidence that others often admired and followed. As a pup this ability had landed him and his schoolmates in trouble on more than one occasion – all in good fun, of course. Here, on the battlefield, things were different. This was no place for fun and games. War was a serious matter. One wrong move could get a good mouse killed – or worse yet, an entire squadron.
As commander of the Genesis Squad, Ziro carried the weight of his responsibility with seriousness. If everything went as planned, today’s mission would prove once and for all that they were capable of being one of the Elite Guards and not just another average squadron.
Surveying the forest before him with a critical eye, Ziro carefully took in his surroundings. Just ahead spilling through the crooked tree line, an un-naturally bright light seemed to emanate from a clearing not more than a few hundred tails from where he now stood.
“Bingo,” Ziro muttered to himself. He retrieved a pair of sonic vision goggles from his utility belt and scanned the area ahead. Nothing showed up which meant they were alone. Satisfied, Ziro turned toward the meadow and waved his paws over his head. As he did, his palm thrusters flashed on and off in a silent signal to alert the others. Seconds later, several black shapes of various sizes zigzagged their way across the meadow to where Ziro stood.
As always, Streak was the first to arrive.
“What took so long, Chief,” Streak asked, “I was beginning to think you were never going to signal.” Streak was the youngest on the team and by far the quickest mouse Ziro had ever met. The only trouble was, he was also impatient. “Next time, why don’t you let me take Point Guard. I’ll cut our mission time in half.”
Ziro didn’t have time to answer; Magenta was the second to arrive with one of her signature comebacks.
“Ha! That will be the day. You’ll cut our mission in half all right…by getting us killed!”
“You’re just jealous because I can run circles around you,” said Streak.
“Listen, kid. You may be quick but you draw more attention than Demo.”
Just then, a beastly mouse lumbered up to the group with booming footsteps and an even louder voice. His battle gear was entirely different than the other mice. For starters, he was fully enclosed in a heavily armored mechanical suit, which measured twice as tall as an average mouse. This particular model had seen better days, its bolts were a bit rusty and at times seemed like it might fall apart.
There was nothing silent about the mouse.
“Did somebody call for me?” the big mouse boomed with a goofy smile on his oversized head.
“Shhhh,” Magenta scolded, “You want to broadcast our position to everyone in the sector.”
“Sorry,” Demo said, “I thought you signaled the coast was clear, Chief.”
Ziro answered with commanding authority, striving to bring focus back to his team. “Even so, we’re not out of the woods yet. Better safe than dead. Remember, we’re a team, so let’s stop arguing and start acting like one.”
“Yeah, yeah, we know. So, what’s the status report?” asked Streak, anxious to get on with it. Ziro tried to keep cool.
“From what I can tell, the last artifact is just up ahead. We’ve only got six minutes left, so let’s make them count. I don’t think I need to remind you of the importance of our success. If we don’t get there first it’s game over for everyone. Got it?” Everyone nodded. “Good, then let’s move out!”
The three soldiers followed their leader through the underbrush on constant lookout for any sign of trouble. The blue light grew brighter as they reached a small clearing in the woods. As the forest thinned, a single orb-shaped gem could be seen ahead. It hovered just above eye level spilling its curious light across the scene and elongating the shadows of various stones that were strewn about the ground.
“There it is,” Ziro said, “the last artifact.”
“Too easy,” Streak replied confidently, eyeing the floating stone with eager claws.
“Precisely what I was thinking,” a steady but unexpected voice replied from behind Streak’s shoulder. The sudden arrival of this phantom voice made Streak jump with fright. With the reflex of a jackrabbit he spun around and fired a blast before the intruder could be seen. His shot deflected back and sent Streak scurrying up a nearby tree to avoid being hit.
“Ah, there you are, NightShade?” Ziro replied, unshaken by the new arrival. A sleek, dark mouse appeared out of nowhere as his cloaking device deactivated. It was NightShade, the fifth and final member of the squad. He was a master of stealth and a student of war. NightShade bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement of his Chief.
“I hate it when he sneaks up like that,” Streak muttered, climbing awkwardly down from the tree. Magenta chuckled.
NightShade didn’t even crack a smile. He often failed to find the humor in situations like this. It wasn’t that he was unfriendly; it’s just that he preferred logic to laughter. He rarely spoke unless there was something important to say. Already he had analyzed the facts of their circumstance and had come up with more than a few concerns of his own. It was time to speak his mind.
“Pardon the disruption, but I fail to see the logic in the placement of this final artifact. Why would the enemy leave it out in the open like this? Without protection?”
“I agree,” Magenta said. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Ah, you guys worry too much,” Streak said, still trying to regain his confidence after the embarrassing tree incident. “We don’t have time to overthink this. I can be there and back in no time. Watch!”
Without orders, the overzealous Streak zipped out into the open, anxious to redeem himself. Streak was nearly within grasp of the stone before Ziro had time to call out a warning.
“Streak, wait! It could be a…”
All at once, a laser beam shot out from one of the stones on the ground and dissolved Streak right on the spot. There was nothing left of the reckless mouse. He had disappeared completely.
“…a trap,” Magenta said sadly.
“Oh grubs,” Demo griped. “I was having such a good day too.”
Ziro looked to NightShade as he usually did when he wanted advice. NightShade didn’t’ notice, he was too busy analyzing the situation and typing on his wrist computer. A sound wave danced across the backlit screen.
“Interesting. I’m detecting a high level of ultrasonic waves coming from the area. It seems to be centered on those stones,” Nightshade observed aloud.
“Which means what exactly?” Ziro asked.
“It means those are sentry stones, and they are watching our movements.”
“That’s creepy,” Demo said. “Well, unless any of you knows how ta make yourself invisible, I suggest we blow the things up.”
“Why does everything revolve around blowing stuff up, for you?” Magenta asked, shaking her head.
“I dunno, what else am I supposed to do with all these explosives.”
“Nobody is going to blow anything up. The artifact is too close, we might damage it,” Ziro explained.
“Oh, right.” Demo groaned with more than a hint of disappointment in his voice.
“Actually,” NightShade announced, rather unexpectedly, “I think Demo may be onto something!”
“I am?” Demo said, looking as puzzled as the other two.
“Yes, we need to make ourselves invisible.”
“Of course,” said Magenta, “Your cloaking device.”
“I can’t move when I’m cloaked, and even if I could, I’d still be detectable by the ultrasonic waves.”
“So…how are we going to do it, then?” Magenta asked
“Uh…how exactly are we going to do that?” Magenta asked.
“Science,” NightShade stated. He pressed a few buttons on his wrist communicator and explained in more detail. “By loading the ultrasonic waves into our sonic blasters we can reverse the signal which should allow us to walk right up to the artifact unnoticed.”
NightShade held up his weapon and took aim at the stones. He glanced down at the screen on his wrist and monitored the pattern of the wavelengths. His timing would have to be perfect in order to cancel the signal. When he sensed the time was right, he pressed his trigger. Nothing happened.
“That’s it?” Demo asked, clearly disappointed there hadn’t been a big blast.
NightShade kept his focus and checked the readout on his wrist communicator. The waves had flat-lined.
“All clear,” NightShade stated.
“Well then, I suppose all that’s left to do is for one of us to walk out there and get the stone,” Ziro noted.
They all glanced to the place where their comrade, Streak, had been incinerated only moments earlier. If NightShade’s theory was wrong, stepping out into the open meant the same fate awaited them as well.
“I’ll go,” Ziro decided, removing his backpack and retrieving a metal cylinder marked with their squad logo they had brought to contain the artifact. He checked his wrist communicator once more; three minutes remained. If they wanted to survive this, they’d have to be quick.
“Be careful out there, Chief,” Magenta said.
Ziro nodded and stepped out into the open.
“Here goes nothing.” He murmured to himself.
Step by nervous step, Ziro inched his way across the dangerous clearing toward the hovering gem. Everything was working perfectly. Then, with only a few paw steps to go, their brilliant plan ended with a blast.
Zrak!
A fiery shot singed the ground between Ziro and his prize. His heart raced wildly at the near miss. Stange, Ziro thought to himself, the shot hadn’t come from the stones, it had come from behind.
“Step away from the artifact, or this time I promise I won’t miss,” said a cocky voice from the edge of the clearing. Ziro didn’t have to look, he knew exactly who it belonged to.
“Nitro,” Ziro scowled. There was a short commotion behind him as a squadron of four mice surrounded the three remaining members of the Genesis Squad at gunpoint.
“That’s right,” said a speckled mouse as he stepped out from the safety of the perimeter. His pinkish eyes glistened with childish delight at the situation. “You didn’t think you’d actually beat me to the artifact, did you? Now drop your weapon and back away from the artifact.”
Ziro did as he was told and tried to calm himself. Nitro loved to bristle Ziro’s fur every chance he got. Since the very first day of Academy, the two had gotten off on the wrong paw. Nitro was the captain of the Alpha Squad, the poster child for the MechMice Elite Guard. It seemed, no matter how hard Ziro and his team tried, the Alphas were always one step ahead.
“The gem is ours, Nitro. We beat you fair and square.”
“On the contrary, you led us right to it. The way I figure, why do all the hard work when you can get grunts to do it for you.”
Nitro’s squad laughed at the derogatory joke. He waltzed across the clearing, closing the gap between himself and Ziro until his nose was right in Ziro’s ear.
“A little advice, Grub,” Nitro muttered, “always watch your back.”
Ziro was unshaken. Inside, he knew Nitro was right but he didn’t want to admit it. He had been so focused on the target he had failed to even consider that they were being followed. It was a mistake he was already regretting.
Nitro stepped casually over to where the artifact hovered always keeping his blaster aimed steadily at Ziro’s chest. With his free paw, he took hold of the artifact. Ziro looked away, he couldn’t stand the sight of Nitro winning again.
“Face it Ziro, you’ll never be one of the Elites. You just don’t have what it takes,” Nitro said smugly. With his left paw now occupied with the artifact, Nitro was forced to lower his weapon for a moment as he fumbled for his own container. Ziro spotted his chance.
“Want to bet,” Ziro muttered through gritted teeth.
In a rush, Ziro lunged forward and pressed his paws square into Nitro’s chest. Before Nitro could react, Ziro’s palm thrusters ignited hurling his stunned rival through the air a dozen tails or more. Nitro released his grip on the artifact before he hit the floor letting it sail freely through the air to the far edge of the clearing.
“Nightshade…now!” Ziro shouted as Nitro reached for his weapon and scrambled to his feet. Nightshade dropped his blaster and disappeared behind his cloaking device once more. Immediately, the stone sentries re-activated and honed in on the two intruders. Shots fired wildly in every direction as Nitro and Ziro dodged the attacks in their retreat.
In the midst of the chaos, Demo dropped a detonator, sending both squads scattering for cover. Within seconds, a massive blast lit up the night sky and shook the forest, sending bits of rubble every which direction. Black smoke enveloped the clearing this time silencing the stone sentries for good.
Ziro activated his blaster and stepped into the heart of the smoke curtain in a frantic search for the artifact. It couldn’t have gone far, he thought to himself. The lure of a blue glow captured his eye and he scurried through the hazy clearing to where the artifact lay waiting. This time there would be no stopping him.
Ziro took hold of the prize and celebrated inwardly. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Nitro’s face when he returned to headquarters with the win. At last, their squad would get the recognition they deserved. He smiled to himself and retrieved his squad’s container once more, but as he raised the artifact he realized he’d been horribly mistaken. He wasn’t holding the artifact at all – it was an emergency beacon. He’d been duped again.
The sound of Nitro’s laughter caused Ziro to turn just in time to see the real artifact drop into his opponent’s container. Nitro targeted his blaster at Ziro’s chest and without a word took the shot.
Zrak!
A painful blast of electricity surged through Ziro’s limbs. The last thing he heard before everything went black was Nitro’s voice mocking him.
“Better luck next life, loser.”
Evening’s last light clung desperately to the horizon, unwilling to surrender day’s final breath into the choking grip of night. It was a colorful death. Red gave way to purple and finally to a deep indigo blue, framing the edges of the rugged terrain like an artist frames a masterpiece. Like clockwork, the ancient war between day and night continued on, but this battle belonged to the night.
Beneath the wounded sky a broad meadow stretched out wrapped in a thick forest of ironbark trees. All was still in the meadow. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath in honor of the sacred event.
Silently, the blackened silhouette of a lone field mouse cut across the blood red skyline with determined speed. Having reached the edge of the forest, the mouse pressed itself against a tree and listened. His ears moved like radars in search of any sound of danger. The coast was clear.
He raised his forearm to his face and a backlit screen appeared on his wrist, casting a blue glow over his features and displaying a countdown in big black digits. Six minutes, forty seconds remained; he was running late.
This was no ordinary field mouse. Dressed from claw to collar in black and red battle armor, he was a highly trained commander for the MechMice Guard. It was his sworn duty to protect the citizens of the Colonies from invasion – no matter what the cost.
Ziro was a rugged, young mouse with broad shoulders, reddish fur and nerves of steel. He carried himself with a confidence that others often admired and followed. As a pup this ability had landed him and his schoolmates in trouble on more than one occasion – all in good fun, of course. Here, on the battlefield, things were different. This was no place for fun and games. War was a serious matter. One wrong move could get a good mouse killed – or worse yet, an entire squadron.
As commander of the Genesis Squad, Ziro carried the weight of his responsibility with seriousness. If everything went as planned, today’s mission would prove once and for all that they were capable of being one of the Elite Guards and not just another average squadron.
Surveying the forest before him with a critical eye, Ziro carefully took in his surroundings. Just ahead spilling through the crooked tree line, an un-naturally bright light seemed to emanate from a clearing not more than a few hundred tails from where he now stood.
“Bingo,” Ziro muttered to himself. He retrieved a pair of sonic vision goggles from his utility belt and scanned the area ahead. Nothing showed up which meant they were alone. Satisfied, Ziro turned toward the meadow and waved his paws over his head. As he did, his palm thrusters flashed on and off in a silent signal to alert the others. Seconds later, several black shapes of various sizes zigzagged their way across the meadow to where Ziro stood.
As always, Streak was the first to arrive.
“What took so long, Chief,” Streak asked, “I was beginning to think you were never going to signal.” Streak was the youngest on the team and by far the quickest mouse Ziro had ever met. The only trouble was, he was also impatient. “Next time, why don’t you let me take Point Guard. I’ll cut our mission time in half.”
Ziro didn’t have time to answer; Magenta was the second to arrive with one of her signature comebacks.
“Ha! That will be the day. You’ll cut our mission in half all right…by getting us killed!”
“You’re just jealous because I can run circles around you,” said Streak.
“Listen, kid. You may be quick but you draw more attention than Demo.”
Just then, a beastly mouse lumbered up to the group with booming footsteps and an even louder voice. His battle gear was entirely different than the other mice. For starters, he was fully enclosed in a heavily armored mechanical suit, which measured twice as tall as an average mouse. This particular model had seen better days, its bolts were a bit rusty and at times seemed like it might fall apart.
There was nothing silent about the mouse.
“Did somebody call for me?” the big mouse boomed with a goofy smile on his oversized head.
“Shhhh,” Magenta scolded, “You want to broadcast our position to everyone in the sector.”
“Sorry,” Demo said, “I thought you signaled the coast was clear, Chief.”
Ziro answered with commanding authority, striving to bring focus back to his team. “Even so, we’re not out of the woods yet. Better safe than dead. Remember, we’re a team, so let’s stop arguing and start acting like one.”
“Yeah, yeah, we know. So, what’s the status report?” asked Streak, anxious to get on with it. Ziro tried to keep cool.
“From what I can tell, the last artifact is just up ahead. We’ve only got six minutes left, so let’s make them count. I don’t think I need to remind you of the importance of our success. If we don’t get there first it’s game over for everyone. Got it?” Everyone nodded. “Good, then let’s move out!”
The three soldiers followed their leader through the underbrush on constant lookout for any sign of trouble. The blue light grew brighter as they reached a small clearing in the woods. As the forest thinned, a single orb-shaped gem could be seen ahead. It hovered just above eye level spilling its curious light across the scene and elongating the shadows of various stones that were strewn about the ground.
“There it is,” Ziro said, “the last artifact.”
“Too easy,” Streak replied confidently, eyeing the floating stone with eager claws.
“Precisely what I was thinking,” a steady but unexpected voice replied from behind Streak’s shoulder. The sudden arrival of this phantom voice made Streak jump with fright. With the reflex of a jackrabbit he spun around and fired a blast before the intruder could be seen. His shot deflected back and sent Streak scurrying up a nearby tree to avoid being hit.
“Ah, there you are, NightShade?” Ziro replied, unshaken by the new arrival. A sleek, dark mouse appeared out of nowhere as his cloaking device deactivated. It was NightShade, the fifth and final member of the squad. He was a master of stealth and a student of war. NightShade bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement of his Chief.
“I hate it when he sneaks up like that,” Streak muttered, climbing awkwardly down from the tree. Magenta chuckled.
NightShade didn’t even crack a smile. He often failed to find the humor in situations like this. It wasn’t that he was unfriendly; it’s just that he preferred logic to laughter. He rarely spoke unless there was something important to say. Already he had analyzed the facts of their circumstance and had come up with more than a few concerns of his own. It was time to speak his mind.
“Pardon the disruption, but I fail to see the logic in the placement of this final artifact. Why would the enemy leave it out in the open like this? Without protection?”
“I agree,” Magenta said. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Ah, you guys worry too much,” Streak said, still trying to regain his confidence after the embarrassing tree incident. “We don’t have time to overthink this. I can be there and back in no time. Watch!”
Without orders, the overzealous Streak zipped out into the open, anxious to redeem himself. Streak was nearly within grasp of the stone before Ziro had time to call out a warning.
“Streak, wait! It could be a…”
All at once, a laser beam shot out from one of the stones on the ground and dissolved Streak right on the spot. There was nothing left of the reckless mouse. He had disappeared completely.
“…a trap,” Magenta said sadly.
“Oh grubs,” Demo griped. “I was having such a good day too.”
Ziro looked to NightShade as he usually did when he wanted advice. NightShade didn’t’ notice, he was too busy analyzing the situation and typing on his wrist computer. A sound wave danced across the backlit screen.
“Interesting. I’m detecting a high level of ultrasonic waves coming from the area. It seems to be centered on those stones,” Nightshade observed aloud.
“Which means what exactly?” Ziro asked.
“It means those are sentry stones, and they are watching our movements.”
“That’s creepy,” Demo said. “Well, unless any of you knows how ta make yourself invisible, I suggest we blow the things up.”
“Why does everything revolve around blowing stuff up, for you?” Magenta asked, shaking her head.
“I dunno, what else am I supposed to do with all these explosives.”
“Nobody is going to blow anything up. The artifact is too close, we might damage it,” Ziro explained.
“Oh, right.” Demo groaned with more than a hint of disappointment in his voice.
“Actually,” NightShade announced, rather unexpectedly, “I think Demo may be onto something!”
“I am?” Demo said, looking as puzzled as the other two.
“Yes, we need to make ourselves invisible.”
“Of course,” said Magenta, “Your cloaking device.”
“I can’t move when I’m cloaked, and even if I could, I’d still be detectable by the ultrasonic waves.”
“So…how are we going to do it, then?” Magenta asked
“Uh…how exactly are we going to do that?” Magenta asked.
“Science,” NightShade stated. He pressed a few buttons on his wrist communicator and explained in more detail. “By loading the ultrasonic waves into our sonic blasters we can reverse the signal which should allow us to walk right up to the artifact unnoticed.”
NightShade held up his weapon and took aim at the stones. He glanced down at the screen on his wrist and monitored the pattern of the wavelengths. His timing would have to be perfect in order to cancel the signal. When he sensed the time was right, he pressed his trigger. Nothing happened.
“That’s it?” Demo asked, clearly disappointed there hadn’t been a big blast.
NightShade kept his focus and checked the readout on his wrist communicator. The waves had flat-lined.
“All clear,” NightShade stated.
“Well then, I suppose all that’s left to do is for one of us to walk out there and get the stone,” Ziro noted.
They all glanced to the place where their comrade, Streak, had been incinerated only moments earlier. If NightShade’s theory was wrong, stepping out into the open meant the same fate awaited them as well.
“I’ll go,” Ziro decided, removing his backpack and retrieving a metal cylinder marked with their squad logo they had brought to contain the artifact. He checked his wrist communicator once more; three minutes remained. If they wanted to survive this, they’d have to be quick.
“Be careful out there, Chief,” Magenta said.
Ziro nodded and stepped out into the open.
“Here goes nothing.” He murmured to himself.
Step by nervous step, Ziro inched his way across the dangerous clearing toward the hovering gem. Everything was working perfectly. Then, with only a few paw steps to go, their brilliant plan ended with a blast.
Zrak!
A fiery shot singed the ground between Ziro and his prize. His heart raced wildly at the near miss. Stange, Ziro thought to himself, the shot hadn’t come from the stones, it had come from behind.
“Step away from the artifact, or this time I promise I won’t miss,” said a cocky voice from the edge of the clearing. Ziro didn’t have to look, he knew exactly who it belonged to.
“Nitro,” Ziro scowled. There was a short commotion behind him as a squadron of four mice surrounded the three remaining members of the Genesis Squad at gunpoint.
“That’s right,” said a speckled mouse as he stepped out from the safety of the perimeter. His pinkish eyes glistened with childish delight at the situation. “You didn’t think you’d actually beat me to the artifact, did you? Now drop your weapon and back away from the artifact.”
Ziro did as he was told and tried to calm himself. Nitro loved to bristle Ziro’s fur every chance he got. Since the very first day of Academy, the two had gotten off on the wrong paw. Nitro was the captain of the Alpha Squad, the poster child for the MechMice Elite Guard. It seemed, no matter how hard Ziro and his team tried, the Alphas were always one step ahead.
“The gem is ours, Nitro. We beat you fair and square.”
“On the contrary, you led us right to it. The way I figure, why do all the hard work when you can get grunts to do it for you.”
Nitro’s squad laughed at the derogatory joke. He waltzed across the clearing, closing the gap between himself and Ziro until his nose was right in Ziro’s ear.
“A little advice, Grub,” Nitro muttered, “always watch your back.”
Ziro was unshaken. Inside, he knew Nitro was right but he didn’t want to admit it. He had been so focused on the target he had failed to even consider that they were being followed. It was a mistake he was already regretting.
Nitro stepped casually over to where the artifact hovered always keeping his blaster aimed steadily at Ziro’s chest. With his free paw, he took hold of the artifact. Ziro looked away, he couldn’t stand the sight of Nitro winning again.
“Face it Ziro, you’ll never be one of the Elites. You just don’t have what it takes,” Nitro said smugly. With his left paw now occupied with the artifact, Nitro was forced to lower his weapon for a moment as he fumbled for his own container. Ziro spotted his chance.
“Want to bet,” Ziro muttered through gritted teeth.
In a rush, Ziro lunged forward and pressed his paws square into Nitro’s chest. Before Nitro could react, Ziro’s palm thrusters ignited hurling his stunned rival through the air a dozen tails or more. Nitro released his grip on the artifact before he hit the floor letting it sail freely through the air to the far edge of the clearing.
“Nightshade…now!” Ziro shouted as Nitro reached for his weapon and scrambled to his feet. Nightshade dropped his blaster and disappeared behind his cloaking device once more. Immediately, the stone sentries re-activated and honed in on the two intruders. Shots fired wildly in every direction as Nitro and Ziro dodged the attacks in their retreat.
In the midst of the chaos, Demo dropped a detonator, sending both squads scattering for cover. Within seconds, a massive blast lit up the night sky and shook the forest, sending bits of rubble every which direction. Black smoke enveloped the clearing this time silencing the stone sentries for good.
Ziro activated his blaster and stepped into the heart of the smoke curtain in a frantic search for the artifact. It couldn’t have gone far, he thought to himself. The lure of a blue glow captured his eye and he scurried through the hazy clearing to where the artifact lay waiting. This time there would be no stopping him.
Ziro took hold of the prize and celebrated inwardly. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Nitro’s face when he returned to headquarters with the win. At last, their squad would get the recognition they deserved. He smiled to himself and retrieved his squad’s container once more, but as he raised the artifact he realized he’d been horribly mistaken. He wasn’t holding the artifact at all – it was an emergency beacon. He’d been duped again.
The sound of Nitro’s laughter caused Ziro to turn just in time to see the real artifact drop into his opponent’s container. Nitro targeted his blaster at Ziro’s chest and without a word took the shot.
Zrak!
A painful blast of electricity surged through Ziro’s limbs. The last thing he heard before everything went black was Nitro’s voice mocking him.
“Better luck next life, loser.”
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