Warnings: Profanity and violence.
Disclaimer: “SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron,” its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.
A/N: Just a weird plot bunny I thought of this morning. I’m sure as you read it, it will sound like many of the invasion stories out there like War of the Worlds and Avatar. That’s because they influenced it and made it possible. I readily admit, I don’t like killing people off or unhappy endings, though quite a few did die in this. Hope you enjoy it… it’s very short!
“Get your sorry butt up here!” a gruff voice commanded without heat to the male climbing up to him.
“Shut up, I’m getting there as fast as I can!” an even gruffer voice snarked back.
Reaching the large male, a broad bodied male in ripped clothing came close then stared over the destroyed wall tensely. Nothing moved… at least not at the moment.
“Where are they?” he grumbled more to himself than his companion.
“Waiting for us to make a mistake,” the other male grunted, fingering his antique machine gun.
None of them were armed with modern weapons any longer. They scavenged what they could, kept moving, and hoped they’d live to see another morning.
A slim built male with clothing in just as bad a shape climbed up beside them but didn’t try to look over the wall.
“Her bleeding is picking up, and nothing I’ve done has managed to slow it down. We need to find a safe haven soon,” he whispered tensely to the pair.
The leader grimaced, a glint of grief and worry flashing in his eyes for a moment before the hard look he’d worn for too long returned.
“Do what you can. They’re not showing themselves, but we know they are out there… waiting.”
“Damn them to hell!” the slim male hissed, releasing some of his helpless frustration in cursing.
The broad bodied male just grunted in agreement. Their world had been turned into an apocalyptic nightmare over the last six months. Nothing they had done had been able to keep the creatures from taking over. What the aliens wanted no one knew for certain, but what they did know was the hostile visitors didn’t care about the inhabitants and had systematically begun slaughtering them.
The only thing of their world left were the small pockets of resistance that wouldn’t roll over and die. They were but a tiny handful of a population that used to total eight million but now were no more than a few hundred thousand, and those survivors of the first attack continued to cling to living by hiding deep underground or like this group, fight, run, hide and fight some more.
Of their original number of twenty, only ten remained, and four of those were seriously injured. They were exhausted, starved, and disheartened but just couldn’t give up no matter how bad it got. Each harbored the thought that they would never give up until they were killed… anything else meant simply giving up, and that was something they would never do.
Suddenly, an eerie howl filled the night air. The group tensed and held up their weapons.
“Prepare to move!” the leader shouted to the lean male but that one had already melted away, scurrying to get the others on their feet.
Nightmarish things came screaming toward the waiting pair as they opened fire. The leader methodically swept his machine gun at mid level, effectively cutting the things in half… the only sure way to kill them. Next to him the broad male swept deadly fire above them to take out the flyers. The sound of other guns added to theirs from other warriors positioned around them guarding the wounded and non-coms.
A dead enemy flyer landed in their midst, but no more charged them. The broad male gave the dead thing a brief, furious kick then headed down after the leader, who was already making for their makeshift hideaway in a blown out basement.
The ragtag group of non-coms were already moving toward the warriors, the injured being carried by the strongest members they had. Faces stared grimly at their defenders, waiting for instructions.
Without a word, the leader turned about and headed out for a new location, everyone close on his heels.
By the time they found a new hiding place, they’d lost four more of their number, two of which had been the wounded.
Hunkered down in what had once been a restaurant, they did what they could for the injured… a lucky find turned up a first aid kit and a thorough search located canned food, which was wolfed down quickly by the starving survivors.
The warriors of the group had taken up watch some distance from each other but were still within hearing distance.
“From what little intel I’ve been able to acquire, we’re still on target for the mother ship. If we’re lucky, we should reach it by day after tomorrow,” the thinker of the group spoke, just loud enough for the others to hear but not be overheard by the invaders.
“Good!” the leader grunted, his fingers busy cleaning his weapon and reloading. Grenades hung from a bandoleer he found on a dead soldier… sadly, there were only six of them left and his ammunition was seriously low.
“Do you still think you can take them out, buddy,” the broad male asked his friend, staring out the broken window he hid near, watching for any stray movement.
His friend grimaced. “I only hope it will. I won’t know until I get inside and see what I’m up against.”
“Yeah, that should be easy with the ship crawling with our enemies all around… sure, piece a’ cake,” a female voice drifted to them from a far corner and the window she guarded.
“That’s where this gas bomb will help us by eliminating a huge chunk of them.”
The female voice snorted, “Yeah, that’s if it penetrates far enough into that damn ship to do enough harm.”
“Enough! I know we’re all feeling depressed right now but try and keep a more positive attitude!” the leader grunted tiredly.
He well understood her negative feelings. He felt the same way, but they couldn’t allow them to cause tempers to flare. Exhaustion made him lower his head a moment and close his eyes. He’d not had more than brief naps when his body cried for sleep. None of them were in any better shape. He didn’t want to think how many more he would lose over the next forty-eight hours before they reached their goal.
Only getting to that goal would be the main thing on his mind next to taking out the enemy to save his world. Living beyond that… he didn’t really care about anymore.
Just two days later, only four defenders were left when they reached their target. The ship was really no larger than one of their jumbo jets, only more octagon in shape. Their plan was to find a way to slip aboard, inject the gas in the ventilation system, then send a virus through their computer system to take out the rest of the fleet.
Yeah, the plan was based on their own world’s tech, but they had nothing more to go on. This was their only opportunity to save any that were left on their world from extinction…if they weren’t too late already… none cared to think about that.
“There’s our ticket in,” the broad male said suddenly, pointing to a skimmer just leaving the ship only ten feet from them.
Without thinking twice, the group leaped from their tenuous hiding place, the landing gear of the ship, and dropped down onto the skimmer. A quick, bloody fight ensued with them as the winner.
“Can you fly this thing?” the leader demanded, keeping low inside the skimmer, a small flying platform the aliens used to get around and could hold over twenty people and equipment aboard it.
“Yeah… piece of cake!” the broad male grunted distractedly as he figured out how to send the skimmer back into the ship.
“Prepare to jump as soon as it clears the doors,” the leader warned, readying his legs to do just that.
The skimmer cleared the immense entryway and four shadows leaped off and scurried for a hiding place nearby. The now unmanned skimmer collided with more parked skimmers and enemy waiting to load and leave, causing instant chaos.
The infiltrators hurried after the genius in their midst as they searched for the ‘brains’ of the ship.
“Look out!” the female hissed, yanking the lean male back and into a tiny alcove as some soldiers raced by.
The female just nodded as they moved out again. Dozens of near misses, short bloody fights, and new injuries later, they reached what they hoped was heart of the ship. Killing all within the room with gas then waiting a nerve-wracking ten minutes, they finally entered the room.
The lean male sighed with relief. Though these creatures looked nothing like them, they did have enough similar characteristics to make them vulnerable to their world’s weapons and, thankfully, similar tech, just a little more advanced than their own.
The genius hurried to the control panels and studied them quickly while his companions guarded him and also searched for a way to send more gas through the ship. The female gave a small cry of triumph and began pulling on a panel. The broad male joined her in removing it then dropping their gas grenades into the vents.
Meanwhile, the lean tom had discovered which computer handled the ship’s comm and most of its main controls. He typed in his virus and prayed. Nothing seemed to happen for over five minutes, and he was beginning to get very nervous when suddenly everything around him began to act crazy.
With a manic grin, he whooped in triumph. “Let’s get out of here!” he shouted.
The leader couldn’t agree more as he donned his gas mask then slipped out the now malfunctioning door. The way back to the hangar was easier than the way in since nearly all the invaders were dead.
Soon, they were racing madly away from the aliens ship. Seeking shelter more than a mile away, they finally stopped and watched the ship from a distance. Smoke rose from it in many places, distant booms of things exploding could be heard. This went on for some minutes before a very large flash filled the sky, causing the four to duck and cover their eyes.
When they could see again, the ship was dark and silent, only the light of fires could be seen. But, fortunately, the thing hadn’t exploded as that might have succeeded in destroyed the whole area.
Sighing in relief, everyone finally relaxed.
“We did it!” the broad male said, panting.
“Don’t know that for sure yet, buddy. Have to wait and see if they are truly defeated,” his friend cautioned, but felt happy at what they’d accomplished despite his words.
The leader said nothing as he stared at the dead ship. He wondered how long it would take to find out if their world was safe once more.
“How the fuck did this happen!” the Project Leader screamed to his subordinates cringing near him.
“We don’t know, sir. The survey didn’t say this race was even capable of much more than crude fighting methods, and we’d already decimated more than three quarters of the population. They shouldn’t have been a threat…”
“Our ships are being affected by some kind of virus. We’re lucky not to be falling toward the planet, you moron! Those cats obviously aren’t as stupid as you thought, and now the mission is completely ruined!” the Project Leader, a swarthy, nasty man with black hair and goatee, yelled.
“I did warn you, Mason. All my research into this species spoke of resourcefulness and an innate intelligence, but you ignored that for the sake of profit,” a lean, blond haired man snorted derisively at the idiot. “Actually, they are a lot like us… never give in… never say die.”
Mason raised a fist as if to lash out at the blond, but the other man took a defensive stance and growled, “Go ahead and try it… You couldn’t fight your way out of a paper bag, you tub of lard,” the blond sneered.
The Project Leader reddened but turned away. “Call in everyone and evacuate before we’re completely helpless,” he ordered. He didn’t know how he was going to explain this fiasco to his backers that he’d been defeated by a bunch of cats. He’d be lucky if they didn’t kill him much less laugh at him. He’d never live this down.
It took more than a month to determine the enemy had truly left their world and they were safe. It took years to recover and breed a new population, but, by the end of the decade, there were over a hundred thousand, living and building their world anew.
For now, only one city existed, built on the ruins of the largest city their world boasted. Megakat City was no more, but, in its place, a city of peace and prosperity grew. Mindful of how big a target their city had been, the creators of this new city had built it hidden within a forest they grew to hide them.
That didn’t mean they had gone backward in their way of life, oh no. Using the technology of their defeated enemies, they created a world that bristled with modern conveniences and comfort. It was just not as obvious as before. Robots were more in use, taking care of the ecology was the watch word of the day, and living more simply and less stressfully was their new existence. There was no longer a need for a military army, but they did keep a watch command. Their job was to watch the heavens, aid in natural disasters, and keep them all safe. A small police force was all they needed to keep the minor criminal element under control. This meant many of the jobs that the city originally boasted no longer existed.
For the heroes that had finally freed their world from the invaders, they found new ways to contribute to their newly altered world despite some serious war injuries. Commander Ulysses Feral had managed to keep fit despite the loss of his left paw and tail. Felina had only an ear tip and two fingers of her left paw blown off. Chance had lost the ability to pilot a jet when his left leg had been amputated and Jake was the luckiest, having only lost hearing in one ear and the end of his tail.
Feral and Felina were pushed into becoming part of the new system of government. Felina was made chief of the new Space Watch Command, and, with no government left because all of them had been killed, Feral was urged to take the role of leader during the reconstruction of their world. Eventually, a small congress with fewer members… a sort of mini democracy… was set up in place of the old Mayor and council. Feral was called a President with a female vice beneath him.
The SWAT Kats had found a niche as well. During the war, their secret identities fell by the wayside so everyone knew who they were. Chance was urged to join Felina as trainer command for the fledgling Space Command Troops. He was considered a harsh task master but fair. He laughed when his friend told him he was more like Feral than when the Commander was in charge of the old enforcers.
Jake found an outlet for his creative mind. He was made Director in charge of research and development, was responsible for inventing ways to keep their world safe from other space invaders, and created new forms of energy, weapons, aircraft, and vehicles that would make them feel like they could defend themselves better. Using the technology left behind by the now deceased Professor Hackle and various Pumadyne projects, he was able to make their world nearly invincible. No one was going to take them again, he swore it.
It was he that had invented the protection bubble that shielded their world using the technology left behind by the invaders. He also collaborated with other scientists to build a weapon capable of reaching out into space and destroying enemies before they could get close enough to harm them. But, just in case some visitors were friendly, he developed a new communications system using satellites they’d sent to circle their world and even one installed on their moon, to try and speak with the visitors before blasting them to pieces.
The four would get together to relax and try to ease the nightmares caused from their months of fighting that still haunted them even years later. They were good friends only because no one else could understand what they’d been through.
“Here’s to the new world we’ve created!” Chance said, raising a glass of wine to salute another year of peace on the anniversary of their freedom.
“Aw, come on, Chance. We didn’t create it, we just saved it so the survivors could create it,” Jake chided him.
“We created the peace that allowed them to do,” Chance insisted, grinning cheekily at his partner, his mate giving him a light punch to the shoulder for being ornery.
“If you insist,” Jake sighed, smiling and shaking his head. His wife merely smiled gently and held his paw.
“I’m just glad to be alive to see it,” Feral grunted, shifting his weight as his damaged tail ached from sitting.
“I second that… Peace!” Felina declared firmly, raising her own glass and downing it.
The others repeated that mantra and downed their own drinks at the same time.
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Disclaimer: SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron is copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons Inc. All Rights Reserved. © 1995. All other characters and material within this page are the property of their respective creators.