Original SWAT Kats Story

The Wild Side of Feral

By Anubis Soundwave

  • 3 Chapters
  • 6,402 Words

There’s one enforcer willing to try and show up the SWAT Kats, but Feral has other opinions.

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Author's Notes:

WARNING: This is part one. I decided it would be easier for both of us to handle the story in installments, much like a To Be Continued story of Swat Kats(never saw one of those… ? )

This is NOT one of your average Swat Kats in that your central character is the Swat Kats. If you dare to read fanfics in a completely different universe(i.e. Transformers), then you’ll see this isn’t my first time, or my last.

But for now, enjoy the show!

This story is the start of a new season of Swat Kats that introduces you to other cities in the Megakat universe.

It also gives you a new look at Commander Ulysses Feral, and his past.

New villains are a-comin’, so strap on your gear and let’s kick!

Chapter 1

A powerful black jet with red stripes streaks through the sky, past many Enforcer aircraft. The plane pursues an AWOL expiremental jet from Pumadyne.

This jet is called the Turbokat, and the pilots are the two heroes Megakat City had come to know and love, the Swat Kats. And it looks like they’re about to catch the culprit; hell, they’ve even found out it was Hard Drive again, probably working for Turmoil this time.

But, just as Razor is about to launch a missile, something strange happens.

And it starts in an Enforcer jet.

“Trooper! This is Feral! Return to formation–I repeat–return to formation!”

The pilot however, isn’t in a mood to heed orders. “Whuzzat, Commander? There’s LOTS of interference. Maybe Hard Drive’s trying to patch into our communications linkup–better cut him off.” And with that, the pilot cuts Feral off.

“Whoooooo!” And said pilot barrels past the Turbokat, barely missing the black jet.

“Hey!” shouts T – Bone. “Whoever you are, you need to get your wings ripped off!”

“Yeah, buddy; who taught you to fly?” adds Razor.

“I’m just a wild card in the deck, boys.” And the Enforcer jet blasts at the Pumadyne jet, seamlessly knocking out the engines and causing the plane to crash. Thankfully, it was in the middle of a deserted ravine.

The Enforcers capture Hard Drive, “without the help of those useless vigilantes,” adds Feral.

“But this brave individual did,” answers Ann Gora, of Kat’s Eye News. “Who are you?”

“Well, I’m…”

+ + +

“Lieutenant Wylde! What was the meaning of this?” Commander Feral is NOT happy.

“Well, sir, I felt that just this once…” Wylde doesn’t want to say something.

“I’m waiting. And this had better be a good explanation.”

Wylde scowls. “Just this once, I’d like to earn my pay, y’ know? While we’re wasting our time with this bureaucratic crap, the Swat Kats are doin’ the job we’re trained and paid to do–puttin’ their tails on the line–*”

“Save me the rhetoric. I’ve heard the “Swat Kats are heroes” line so many times it sickens me. They’re renegade vigilantes, and they’ll end up running against the wrong end of the law.”

“You know what they say about what you say about a kat: If enough people say that kat’s gonna do somethin’ bad, than that kat’ll believe it, and that kat will–*”

“As much as I frankly ENJOYED watching the Swat Kats get a taste of their own medicine, I didn’t want anyone in my outfit on the serving end. Especially YOU.”

“Well, Commander; I can’t give you everything.”

“One minute, mister. Because your recklessness didn’t cause any permanent damage to the jet, and because we apprehended a dangerous felon, I’m going to pack you off with a reprimand. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again…”

“You’ll toss me out in a salvage yard, like Chance and Jake. Well, if that’s the worst you can do, I’ll be going.”

At that Feral is enraged. The large kat beats Wylde to the door, lifts him up, and…smiles. “You’re right. Furlong and Clawson were lucky. I’ve seen punks like them–and you–who don’t do much at all.” Then he tosses Wylde out the door.

Aside from the need for an asprin, though, Wylde thinks he’s okay. Rubbing his head, he gets up and walks to his quarters.

+ + +

In the newly remodeled barracks of Enforcer Headquarters, each commissioned officer had hiser own room. And Wylde, entering his, waves to Lieutenant Feral.

“Hey, kid. Don’t let the Commander get to you. Really, he’s just a worrywart.”

“Felina, I knew the job was dangerous when I took it. Frankly, worrywarts don’t belong here.”

“Relax; I think the commander knows that. But he still thinks it’s nice when his officers come out in one piece.”

“Hey, you’re lucky. The kat’s your uncle!”

“You call that LUCKY? There I can see your point; he IS too much of a worrywart. But Mason,” she continues, “you’re the closest thing he has to a son. And I don’t think anyone will care that their son died in a blaze of glory. They’ll just care that their son died.”

“I guess Feral and me might actually be alike. I mean, I don’t have a dad; he doesn’t have a son. Scary.

“But even he’s gotta see the Swats for what they are. Heroes, who do our job, take his flack, and don’t ask anything in return. Could I do the same? Not unless I’m at gunpoint.”

“I believe you’re more heroic than you think, Mace.”

“Well, ‘Lina…” Wylde sighs. “Come in here, follow me. I have something to show you.”

The two lieutenants enter Wylde’s room.

“These,” he gestures at the wall to his right, “are my heroes. Guys willing to put their tails on the line. You’ll notice the pilot of the Blue Manx is there. So are the Swats. Higher than them? Pilot Chance Furlong and Weapons Manager Jake Clawson, probably the best we’ve had since…the legends.”

“The who?” Now Felina is dumbfounded.

“Six really good pilots. And let’s just say that you aren’t the first girl Enforcer.” Wylde points to a picture of a redhaired tabby. “And those are other guys in her squadron. Lemme tell you about these guys!”

Mason is thrilled. “Okay, there are six guys on the squadron in the academy. But these guys were the absolute BEST! They could outfly the Swats, Chance and Jake any day.

“They were called the “Upper Deck” by the sub-ensigns who admired them, and reckless jokers by the powers that be, including old Admiral Briggs. Thankfully, the Admiral knew ‘recklessness’ can be a good thing.

“Their squad leader was a dude codenamed ‘King.’ Other codenames, after cards in a deck, were like, High Joker, Low Joker, Ace, Jaxie, or J.C., and…my mom.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah, so you can see why it’s kinda personal with me an’ Feral. My mom was just like the Swat Kats; sometimes she was ruder than T – Bone!”

“What was her name?” Now Felina is hooked.

“Her name was Queen Heart. Real name, Regina Wylde-Hart. She got married, but that guy died about two months later.”

“Wasn’t ‘that guy’ your father?”

“Let’s put it this way: the bun was in the oven when the baker bought the store.” And Wylde smiles.

“Gonna be pretty hard to fly a plane that way,” Felina remarks.

“Don’t worry; Admiral Briggs made sure she didn’t fly the jets, though it wasn’t easy; she’s a spitfire.”

“I’ve been wondering…are the Jokers related to you somehow?”

“Yeah, ‘Lina; they were my uncles. So I’ve got flying in my blood. Just like Chance.”

“I think Furlong’s father was in another squadron, though.”

“Yeah, and his dad was about three years too young for the Alpha Squadron. But heroes like them are gone. My mom, my uncles, the whole squadron’s dead. And with guys like Feral around, you can bet that no one will mourn their loss.”

+ + +

Later that night, on an island named Faroe Lake City, a car pulls into a parking lot–next to a cemetery. A large figure, covered in shadow, steps out.

The figure soon stands before five graves. And five names can be read.

Hiram Wylde, Llewellyn Wylde, Aaron Lynx, Jack Caine Diamond, Regina Wylde-Hart.

The form places a rose atop each grave save one: a bouquet of roses is placed on top of Wylde-Hart’s.

Just as the form begins to leave, another comes in.

“I thought I’d see you here, King.”

“Not that it’s any business of yours.”

“But it’s family business…brother.”

“Don’t expect me to be proud of that.”

“So, this is how a brother is treated. I can only imagine how you treat your son…”

“Don’t bring him into this!”

“I won’t. I have no need of him…for now. But it doesn’t really matter, does it, little brother? Your life ended with them, and your body’s just hanging around until it’s buried.”

The first shadow just ignores the second shadow and leaves him to laugh.

+ + +

Later, the stranger arrives at Enforcer Headquaters. He enters room 823, and takes off his trenchcoat and hat. Then the kat, Commander Ulysses Feral begins to grieve.


Tell me what you think.

You can write to this address:


Either that, or you’d think Gary Owens had Eudora. ?

Crasher(Anubis Crasher Soundwave)

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