Biker Mice From Mars - Breaking The Habit

Names We Still Whisper

It was a cold and rainy day.
Since the mice hated being outside in the rain, they were in the garage, tuning their bikes.

Kiwi sat at the desk, reading a book, a soft smile playing on her lips.
It was one of those rare peaceful days—quiet, warm, and calm.
She sighed contentedly and turned a page.

Suddenly...

"OUCH!"

Kiwi almost threw her book in the air at the sudden cry.
She turned toward the source of the noise, which could only be Vinnie, of course.
He was glaring at his hand, and judging by the look of it, he had just cut himself while fixing something on his bike.
She was about to get up and help, but before she could, he let out a string of sharp, unfamiliar words that definitely didn't sound like English.

Whatever he said, it made Modo's ears perk up immediately.
"VINCENT! Like I said before, that is not how you talk in front of a lady!"

Vinnie looked at him, deeply insulted.
"Really? I cut myself, blood everywhere, and instead of I dunno, asking if I'm okay, you scold me because I said a few words she still doesn't understand?"

Throttle sighed and stepped in before it could escalate.
"Vinnie, go clean that wound. Modo, give him a hand. You know you're the only one who can."

Vinnie opened his mouth to argue, but Modo had already grabbed him by the arm and dragged him along.
Kiwi couldn't stop the amused look from spreading across her face as she turned to Throttle.

"What language was that anyway?" she asked, sitting back down.

"Martian," Throttle replied, taking a seat beside her.

Her blue eyes widened
"You guys actually have your own language?"

Then again, it was actually more surprising that they spoke English as well as they did.

"Yeah, well, it's a very old language. Complicated, too. Me and my bros are probably the last generation who learned it at school. You know, before the war started and we still had schools..."

The tan-furred leader went quiet for a moment, staring at his hands, clearly sucked back into the past.

"Then how come you all speak English so well?" Kiwi asked, hesitating a little, unsure whether she should leave him to his thoughts.
But of course, her curiosity got the best of her.
Like it always did.

Throttle turned his head toward her, one corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile.
"Well, the answer to that one..." he said, leaning back against the workbench.
"...comes with a bit of a history lesson."

Kiwi closed her book, giving him her full attention.
As always, she was dying to hear more about Mars and its culture.
They didn't talk much about their home, so she indulged every moment that they did.

Throttle stretched his long and muscular legs, making himself comfortable in the chair.
"A long, long time ago, there was this professor on Mars, Milestone was his name. Brilliant old mouse. Bit eccentric too. He was the first one to discover Earth. Back then, Mars was miles ahead of you humans in terms of technology, still is, actually, but Milestone wasn't interested in gadgets or engines. He was fascinated by you."

Kiwi raised a brow.
"By humans?"

Throttle nodded.
"Yeah. He wanted to understand everything: your history, your culture, your way of life. Some said he was obsessed, and who knows, maybe he was. Either way, he built himself a small shuttle and came to Earth to study you. He found out that Earth had dozens of different languages, but English was the most common. So he learned it from a friend he made down here. Someone who wanted to learn about Martian Cave Mice as much as Milestone wanted to learn about humans. They trusted each other. Shared knowledge."