Title: My Friend, My Enemy
Disclaimer: “SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron,” its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.
Author’s Note: This was an under a 1000 word entry I wrote up in just an hour for a contest on SWAT Kat.us. I had been wracking my brain for a short piece to write when I remembered the new author here that had been doing some neat pieces that were based on ‘what if’ scenarios from the show. This was one I came up with about the Dark SWAT Kats from the episode “The Dark Side of the SWAT Kats”. Hope you like it.
The Turbokat fairly rocketed down its hidden runway, scrapping the sides of the tunnel, setting off sparks and scratching the paint.
As soon as it reached its landing pad, the engines were shutdown and the canopy shot back despite the fact they were still moving up to the main floor of their hangar.
The moment the platform halted, a small form hurled itself from the cockpit to the floor. Throwing his helmet violently against a nearby wall, Razor spit at his partner.
“What the hell did you think you were doing? We could have been killed instead of just being sent into another dimension and back again,” he yelled.
“Shut up! We’re alive, aren’t we?” snarled his partner.
“If you hadn’t tried to get revenge on those damn doubles of ours, Enforcer Headquarters would be history now. But no! You just had to be a hot shot like always. Well, I hope you’re satisfied because we need to lay low now that Callie has been arrested,” Razor shouted. “Crap knows where Dark Kat has gotten off to, but I don’t intend to be here if and when he returns. There’s no telling what he’ll do to us for ruining his plans.” He stormed off.
He went upstairs to collect his clothes and things and packed them into a bag. Grabbing a box, he began to throw foodstuffs into it. T-Bone glared at him but went to his room and packed up his stuff as well.
Then, without a word to each other, they hauled their things back down to the hangar and loaded them on the jet. Razor went about the hangar picking up weapons while T-Bone loaded their missiles. The last thing loaded was their rather beat up cyclotrons. Soon, they were airborne again and heading for their back up hideout.
Flying into the desert, T-Bone took the jet to a honeycomb area of limestone caves in the more mountainous area of the desert. A large, but hidden cave served as their new hangar. Taking more care than he had when he was in their usual hangar, T-Bone slipped the jet in and parked.
They jumped out and made for the quarters they had built some time ago. It was very rough comfort. A fridge and microwave that ran off a gas generator, a couple of beds, and a lumpy couch. A small TV with VCR was all the entertainment they had.
Dumping his stuff on his bunk in the small cave he used for a bedroom, T-Bone’s anger at his partner burned hotly. He went back out to the open area where the jet was parked and found Razor unloading his stuff onto his temporary work bench.
Growling, he stalked up to his partner and jerked him around.
“I’m tired of you always blaming me for everything!” he snarled, holding Razor by his collar.
Razor kicked him in the stomach, sending his partner against a sandstone wall. “Keep your mitts to yourself. Why shouldn’t I blame you! We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you!” he snarled.
“Why you…” T-Bone hissed then launched himself at Razor.
In seconds, they were pounding each other into toothpaste. The battle didn’t end until both were exhausted and bleeding. They parted without words to lick their wounds and clean up. A small cistern caught rainwater and provided water to each room by pipes they had pounded into the rock providing each a private sink.
Razor stripped his clothes off and tossed them into a corner. He went to the sink and began to wash up. His tired mind drifted back to a moment where their lives had changed irrevocably.
It was hard to believe they had once been good friends fighting against criminals then it all went to hell because of a mistake that Feral took out on them. The rest of the enforcers had made it plain what they thought of the ex-enforcers as they heaped abuse on them.
It wasn’t bad enough they had been relegated to that stinking salvage yard… nooo… they had to suffer the indignity of constant harassment by their former colleagues by way of parking tickets, arrest for trumped up charges that put them in jail for a night, and nasty treatment by the pair that ran the yard before them.
It was no wonder they had turned to crime and aiding Dark Kat and Calico Briggs to escape their miserable lives. But, at night, when he slept he thought of what might have been. It didn’t help seeing their doubles. It was obvious the pair had succeeded in keeping their morals and being the good guys. Their good fortune just made his seem even more bleak.
All Chance and he had were bitter memories and the constant bickering and fighting that made up their lives. They barely tolerated each other anymore, but any time he thought about trying to escape this life, he was forced to realize he had no one. He’d burned all his bridges as did Chance. Now they had only each other and their hatred.
One day they would not survive and on that day, Jake knew, he would smile because it meant the end to a miserable life. He went to his bed and laid down.
Chance finished cleaning up. His anger was gone, replaced with the pain he tried to escape every night. He missed his friend. Seeing those other SWAT Kats and how they behaved with each other sent pangs of regret through him. Their pain and fury at their lives prevented any kind of reconciliation between them. Laying down on his bed, he stared at the ceiling and once more tried to bury his pain in hatred.
Tomorrow would be another reminder of how miserable their lives had become.
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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.