Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 21
Date: 6 Nov 1999 11:49:14 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

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FAQ/ Rules:
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
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There are 3 messages in this issue.

Topics in today's digest:

      1. Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
           From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
      2. Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
           From: "Jake Clawson" <razorjake@hotmail.com>
      3. Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
           From: LadySilverMage@aol.com

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Fri, 5 Nov 1999 07:49:58 EST
   From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
Subject: Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

Hello,

    i guess that it is obvious that i am new to this list. just wanted to
say
Hi

                                        Silver

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 2
   Date: Fri, 05 Nov 1999 11:57:36 PST
   From: "Jake Clawson" <razorjake@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

Hi! ::smile:: Don't worry, we don't bite... unless you want us to! ::laugh::
My name ((at least my roleplaying name)) is Persia.

>From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
>Reply-To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>Subject: Re: [SWATKats_FanFic] Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>Date: Fri, 5 Nov 1999 07:49:58 EST
>
>Hello,
>
>     i guess that it is obvious that i am new to this list. just wanted to
>say
>Hi
>
>                                         Silver
>
>------------------------------------------------------------------------
>FAQ/ Rules:
>http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
><< text3.html >>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 3
   Date: Fri, 5 Nov 1999 21:17:27 EST
   From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
Subject: Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

:: smile :: thanks for the welcome

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 22
Date: 7 Nov 1999 11:32:47 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

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------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAQ/ Rules:
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are 5 messages in this issue.

Topics in today's digest:

      1. Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
           From: "Jessie Clawson" <j_claw@hotmail.com>
      2. Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
           From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
      3. Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
           From: "David Noble" <dnoble49@hotmail.com>
      4. Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
           From: "Alex McQuown" <amcquown@hotmail.com>
      5. Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
           From: "Jessie Clawson" <j_claw@hotmail.com>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Sat, 06 Nov 1999 16:33:36 GMT
   From: "Jessie Clawson" <j_claw@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

Hi!!!!
Don't worry no one is going to do anything bad to you here!!!!
I'm Jessie

Lt. Jessie Clawson

>>Hello,
>>
>>     i guess that it is obvious that i am new to this list. just wanted to
>>say
>>Hi
>>
>>                                         Silver
>>
>>------------------------------------------------------------------------
>>FAQ/ Rules:
>>http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
>><< text3.html >>
>
>>FAQ/ Rules:
>http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 2
   Date: Sat, 6 Nov 1999 12:57:53 EST
   From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
Subject: Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

thanks for the welcome Lt. Clawson. im Silver

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 3
   Date: Sat, 06 Nov 1999 09:58:07 PST
   From: "David Noble" <dnoble49@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

>Hello,
>
>     i guess that it is obvious that i am new to this list. just wanted to
>say
>Hi

Welcome! The more, the merrier! This list is great. Hope to see any fanfic
of yours if you choose.

David

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 4
   Date: Sat, 06 Nov 1999 22:20:45 PST
   From: "Alex McQuown" <amcquown@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

Hi! Nah, we don't bite.. I don't bite, even if you want me to. I used to
play Tuco in the RPG, but now I'm working on another character.  Strike may
or may not be surprised.. But welcome to the gang.

>From: "Jake Clawson" <razorjake@hotmail.com>
>Reply-To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>Subject: Re: [SWATKats_FanFic] Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>Date: Fri, 05 Nov 1999 11:57:36 PST
>
>Hi! ::smile:: Don't worry, we don't bite... unless you want us to!
>::laugh::
>My name ((at least my roleplaying name)) is Persia.
>
>
>>From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
>>Reply-To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>>To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>>Subject: Re: [SWATKats_FanFic] Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>>Date: Fri, 5 Nov 1999 07:49:58 EST
>>
>>Hello,
>>
>>     i guess that it is obvious that i am new to this list. just wanted to
>>say
>>Hi
>>
>>                                         Silver
>>
>>------------------------------------------------------------------------
>>FAQ/ Rules:
>>http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
>><< text3.html >>
>
>------------------------------------------------------------------------
>FAQ/ Rules:
>http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
><< text3.html >>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 5
   Date: Sun, 07 Nov 1999 09:44:35 GMT
   From: "Jessie Clawson" <j_claw@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

No problem!!
It's always good to see someone new join the list!!!

Lt. Jessie Clawson

>From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
>Reply-To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>Subject: Re: [SWATKats_FanFic] Welcome to SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>Date: Sat, 6 Nov 1999 12:57:53 EST
>MIME-Version: 1.0
>From sentto-160504-33-j_claw=hotmail.com@onelist.com Sat Nov  6 10:04:09
>1999
>Received: (qmail 8770 invoked by alias); 6 Nov 1999 17:57:42 -0000
>Received: (qmail 8504 invoked from network); 6 Nov 1999 17:57:33 -0000
>Received: from unknown (209.207.164.239) by pop.onelist.com with QMQP; 6
>Nov 1999 17:57:33 -0000
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>mta1.onelist.com with SMTP; 6 Nov 1999 17:57:56 -0000
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>(mail_out_v23.6.) id hPOY.l5ln_ (3924) for <SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com>;
>Sat, 6 Nov 1999 12:57:53 -0500 (EST)
>Message-ID: <0.bc46824a.2555c621@aol.com>
>X-Mailer: Windows AOL sub 41
>Mailing-List: list SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com; contact
>SWATKats_FanFic-owner@onelist.com
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>From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
>
>thanks for the welcome Lt. Clawson. im Silver
>
>>FAQ/ Rules:
>http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 23
Date: 11 Nov 1999 11:37:48 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

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FAQ/ Rules:
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There are 3 messages in this issue.

Topics in today's digest:

      1. New story: Going Home (0/1)
           From: "Mark Johnson" <johnnosk@hotmail.com>
      2. New Story: Going Home (1/1)
           From: "Mark Johnson" <johnnosk@hotmail.com>
      3. Re: New Story: Going Home (1/1)
           From: "Jake Clawson" <razorjake@hotmail.com>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 15:03:35 PST
   From: "Mark Johnson" <johnnosk@hotmail.com>
Subject: New story: Going Home (0/1)

Title:  Going Home
Author: Mark Johnson
E-mail: johnnosk@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Status: Finished
Date:  11/11/99
Archive: none
Categories: none
Archive author: N/A
Archive e-mail: N/A
Series/Sequel: Hunter
Other website: None
Disclaimers:  The SWAT Kats belong to
Hanna-Barbara, no infringement intended and no physical profit gained.
Notes: None
Summary: During a routine SWAT Kat training mission, Hunter get the chance
to return home, but does he want to?
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Number four and looking good!

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 2
   Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 15:06:35 PST
   From: "Mark Johnson" <johnnosk@hotmail.com>
Subject: New Story: Going Home (1/1)

Greetings to all fans of the Swat Kats.  This is my Forth fanfic.  Please
note
this in any flames that you send.  A few points to remember.
1) Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is owned by Hanna Barberra.  Which in
turn
is owned by Ted Turner, the same man who is married to Jane Fonda!
2) I own Tim Hunt and associated characters.  Please inform me if you wish
to use them
3) As Tim hunt is an Australian, he pronounces some words differently.  For
example Lieutenant is pronounced as _LEFT_tenant and his rank would be
Flight
LEFTtenant.
4) All flames and praise can be sent to Mark Johnson at
<johnnosk@hotmail.com>

Going Home
By Mark Johnson

Hunter hated night flying with a vengeance.  Yet he knew that in
order to become a SWAT Kat he needed to fly both the Raptor and the
TurboKat with equal ease, in all weather conditions.

"Razor, would you mind telling me why I'm up here, strapped to three
jet engines with wings instead of being nice and safe and
comfortable in my own aircraft?"
"Because, Hunter," Razor began from his backseat, "You might
actually have to fly these three engines with wings some day."
"Terrific, I'm now expected to fly this heap of krud.  I feel like
I've been downgraded from test pilot to jet jockey."
"You have" T-Bone said over the radio.

"T-Bone, what aircraft are you flying?" Hunter asked, not really
wanting to know the answer,
"Yours," was T-Bones reply

Beneath them an Enforcer jet was also doing a nighttime patrol, its
pilot unaware of what was about to happen.  The pilot was Lieutenant
Felina Feral, and the last thing she expected was a knock on the
canopy of her jet.

"Hey Razor, what is that bogey at two o'Clock?"
"That is an Enforcer jet.  IFF says the pilot is.... Lieutenant
Feral.  She would be on patrol"
"Oh goody!" Hunter said with a wide grin. "Razor, put your mask on
and turn your receiver to intercom".
"Why?"
"I'm going to have some fun with the Lieutenant."

Hunter flew above and matched speeds with Lieutenant Feral's jet.
When he was directly above his target, Hunter rolled 180 degrees so
that both he and Razor could look into the cockpit of the Enforcer
jet without much difficulty.

"Is this your idea of fun, Hunter" Razor complained as Hunter slid
open the TurboKat's canopy and knocked on the Enforcer Jet's
canopy.  Lieutenant Feral looked around for the source of the
strange knocking before realising exactly where the knocking came
from.

Looking up she saw the familiar silhouette of the TurboKat, and its
pilot waving at her.  "Do I know you?" she asked Hunter over the
radio.  Felina could clearly see Razor in the backseat and, although
the pilot looked like T-Bone he wore a long sleeved flight suit
similar to Razor's.

"I'll be damned.  The put down lines in this universe are the same
as the ones in mine!" replied Hunter, still not identifying himself
and moving from above Felina to her left wing.  Felina however knew
that it wasn't T-Bones voice, and Razor had not yet said a word,
leaving:

"You're that alien, aren't you?"
"You where expecting Tom Kruise?  What gave me away?"
"The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you fly.  Need I go
on?" Felina said, smugness evident in her voice.
"That depends on what you've got on" Hunter shot back, trying to
keep the score even.

In the second that Felina was thinking of a suitable reply a
bulletin came over the radio.  "ATTENTION ALL ENFORCER UNITS.
ATTENTION ALL ENFORCER UNITS.  UFO REPORTED OVER MEGAKAT CBD.  ANY
AVAILABLE AERIAL UNITS IN THE VICINITY ARE REQUESTED TO ATTEND."

"Did you two just hear that?" Felina asked
"I caught it" Razor answered "T-Bone, where are you?"
"Port side, low" T-Bone replied. Hunter nodded at Razor as he made
visual confirmation on the Raptor's position. "What's wrong?"
"T-Bone, this is Hunter.  We're going to change aircraft"
"Why?"
"Because this aircraft is a piece of junk.  It's got speed and
agility, but nothing else.  If I'm going to investigate a UFO, I'll
do it in my own aircraft.  Got it?"
"Not quite.  Could you run that by me again?"
"T-Bone!"
"I'm doing it, I'm doing it" T-Bone mumbled as he deftly landed the
Raptor on the roof of a nearby building.  Hunter then landed the
TurboKat on the same building and jumped out.  As Hunter passed
T-Bone on the way to his own jet he made inquires as to the
readiness of the Raptors systems; the results where pleasing.

Seconds later both aircraft, with their correct pilots, went hunting
for a UFO.

************************************************************************

"How do I get myself into these things?" the human pilot of the UFO
asked himself as he circled around looking for where LAX should have
been.  Only hours before he was being briefed by General Drybeck on
the route that Flight Lieutenant Hunt took on the day that he
disappeared.  In the hour before that he was wandering aimlessly
around the corridors of Dreamland, wanting to help a fellow pilot
yet unsure as to how.

This was the how.  Fly along the same flight path as Flt Lt Hunt did
on the day of his disappearance in an F-15.  The F-15 Eagle, being
the same approximate size and weight as the F-22 and having similar
flight properties, was the perfect candidate for the mission.
Loaded with reconnaissance equipment and fuel on every available
hardpoint, its pilot insisted on having a full 500 rounds in the
20mm Vulcan for 'self defence'.

The pilot, Major Jade 'Jesus Christ' (JC to his friends) Callen, (so
called when he was getting his pilots wing when the instructor
muttered the famous phrase as  he heard that JC was up for
assessment - along with a few other choice words).  JC was selected
for his daring, tenacity and because all the other pilots stayed out
of Drybeck's way.

Instead of avoiding the General, JC walked directly into his office
and demanded to take part in the investigation and possible
retrieval of Flt Lt Hunt.  That was less than four hours ago.  In
those four hours the ground crews at Dreamland had, from scratch,
serviced, fuelled, and pre-flight an obsolete F-15C that had been
new fifteen years ago.

It seemed that the disappearance of Flt Lt Hunt was one of
Dreamland's worst kept secrets, not that anybody cared.  The number
of people who wanted something to do with its investigation never
ceased to amaze the General.  When both pilot and plane where ready
the recording devices where set and locked into the 'ON' position so
that they would continuously record information, no matter what the
circumstances.

The mission started out perfectly.  JC's run over the AAA and SAM
sites went off without a hitch, high-speed entry into the canyon, no
problem.  Exit from the canyon, problem.

When Hunter went through the first time, it was with the help of
Dark Kat's machine.  Then the vortex had become unstable and
collapsed like a rockslide, leaving small holes in the dimensional
fabric.  When a body of similar size and mass approached it was
recognised as being part of the whole and was allowed through.  And,
as being part of the whole, JC didn't undergo the horror of mutation
that Hunter went through.  In that respect, he could be called lucky.

In others he couldn't.  From JC's point of view, the canyon
disappeared and was replaced by a bridge, and he was know circling
around a built up area looking for a major international airport
that should be directly underneath him.  And now his primitive, but
extremely powerful, radar was picking up two inbound bogeys that
where only fifteen miles out and closing fast.

While JC was concentrating on the two bogeys his radio crackled to
life.  JC knew that he had left his radio on GUARD, UHF 243, the
international distress frequency.

"Attention unidentified F-15, you are in violation of MegaKat
airspace.  Slow to 200 Knots and lower your landing gear" an
Australian accented voice ordered JC over the radio.

JC did as he was ordered over the radio and lowered his landing
gear.  When his airspeed reached 200 Knots, he followed protocol and
made his transmission.  "I am Major Jade Callen of the United States
Air Force and I am in United States airspace"

On the other side of the transmission, Hunter could barely contain
his excitement.  He had found what he believed was a pilot from his
own world, but he had to make sure.  "Do not make any transmissions,
Major" Hunter replied "Proceed on a heading of 116 degrees
magnetic.  Any deviation will result in you being forced down.  Do
you copy?"
"I hear you"

On his radar screen, JC couldn't find any aircraft in the area apart
from the two bogeys and they hadn't made any transmissions.  In fact
they had taken up a holding pattern at twelve miles as if waiting
for someone or something.

Looking around JC saw why.  Behind him an F-22 had taken up firing
position.  A Raptor with a pilot that had an Australian accent
intrigued JC; the only Australian that flew the F-22 that JC knew of
was the man he was trying to find.

Acting on a hunch, JC entered a twelve-digit number into his radio
panel.  This was a special prefix number; a code that told the
Raptor's computer that it was being accessed from outside.  After
the prefix came the scramble code so that the transmission couldn't
be understood if it was intercepted, and finally, a radio frequency.

Hunter knew that something was happening when someone entered the
prefix code for his aircraft, and it was accepted on the first
attempt.  The odds of that occurring stood at 1.00e+13 to 1 with
1,000,000,000,000 possible combinations!

When the radio changed its frequency to a military band with a
scramble code, Hunter knew that the pilot of the F-15 was his friend
and wingman JC  "Talk to me!" JC said when the line was open

"Jesus Christ! What are you doing here?" Hunter asked, trying to
sound as casual as possible
"I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I'd give you a call" JC
sarcastically replied "What the hell do you think I'm doing here?"

"I'd tell you but then I would have to kill you"
"Screw you!"
"That, my friend, is the best offer I've had since I've been here"
"I'm glad I'm married"
"Bet your wife isn't"

Hunter's last comment stung and JC let Hunter know in very
diplomatic terms.  "Hunter, when do we land?"
"Three Minutes, present speed"
"Good.  Because when we do, I'll punch your lights out!"
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Watch me"

As the two aircraft passed the outer marker of the MegaKat City
International airport Hunter brought the banter to a halt.  JC
waited as Hunter arranged landing clearance on that world's busiest
airport.  The wait stretched into ten seconds, then thirty seconds,
then after almost a full minute, JC's radio crackled to life.

"JC, we've been cleared to land on runway four.  Call the tower on
channel 22 and they will call you in"
"Roger that.  Then what?"
"Don't know.  I'll think of something"

JC was too busy contacting the tower to make a reply.  When he was
on final approach he re-established contact with Hunter, who was
circling above, and told him of the weather conditions on approach.
In return Hunter told JC to stay in his jet and not to get out until
he told him to.

JC was concerned about Hunter's cryptic message, until he saw the
small convoy of flashing lights moving towards him.  Before he could
take any action the two bogeys that he had forgotten about decided
to land.

The first one was a yellow and grey, opened nosed, single engine,
swept wing design.  It landed and taxied towards the F-15 and
stopped only meters away. Peering through the darkness JC thought
that he could make out two triangle shapes on its pilot's head.
Further investigation was interrupted by the arrival of the second
bogey.

This one had the same basic design as an F-14D Tomcat but was longer
and had a wider fuselage.  This one was painted black with red nose
art, bright yellow on the air intakes but with no other visible
markings.  When it landed it used its intakes as exhaust nozzles for
VOTL landing.

"Hunter, Gruman is going to kill you when they find out what you did
to their design"
"Not my fault, JC.  They did it on their own"
"Whatever.  Where can I park?"
"Hanger 18, it should be on your right wing.  Do you see it"
"Yeah, I see it. Now, what do I do?"
"Just park your bird before I shoot you."

JC taxied into the waiting hangar where the two other aircraft were
already parked, but at the opposite end.  Before JC could say
anything, Hunter flew in through the still open hangar doors,
sideways!, and put down next to JC's F15.

When the doors of the hangar shut, JC got the transmission that he
had been waiting patiently for.  "JC, scramble code 12, please,"
Hunter told his senior officer.  After JC had activated his
scrambler to the correct setting, Hunter continued "Major, you are
on a parallel world.  To avoid meeting yourself, please use our rank
or callsign when you identify yourself.  Any questions?"

"Just a couple, what do I call you?"
"Either Captain or Hunter should do.  Next?"
"Did the apes evolve?"
"No, the big Kats did"
"Cats?" JC asked disbelief in his voice
"Kats" Hunter confirmed "Don't tell me your allergic to felines"
"I'm not, Rachel is"

Rachel was JC's wife; Hunter had met her on several occasions and
knew that she was undergoing allergy treatment.  "You may now depart
your aircraft"
"You're so kind," JC said, his voice dripping with sarcasm

The half egg shaped canopy of the F-15 opened slowly as its pilot
removed his helmet and skullcap and had a quick look around the
large aircraft hanger, which was normally used to house the largest
of passenger aircraft.

JC took a deep breath to steady himself as he cast a glance towards
the canopy of Hunter's F-22 that was now open.  Hunter was leaning
on the edge of the cockpit.  When the Major saw the inhuman creature
that was occupying the cockpit he drew his sidearm and aimed it at
Hunter.

Seeing this, Hunter responded by drawing his own sidearm and aiming
it at his superior officer.  Hunter knew that if he didn't calm his
wingman's nerves soon a shooting match could start and Hunter didn't
want to kill his wingman.

"Who the hell are you?" JC shouted, "Where is my Wingman?"
"Calm down, Major.  I'm your wingman" Hunter replied "I'll explain
everything else later"
"Prove it!"
"Remember that time back in '89 when I dropped through your flight
formation?"
"It was in Nevada"
"Actually it was in South Australia"
"What was I flying?"
"You were with the 'Aggressors' flying an F-5"
"Where from?"
"New Mexico"

JC paused while he assimilated the information that Hunter had given
him.  What he had said was true, but it was also on record.  He had
to think of something that only FLTLT Hunt would know.

"What did you say at the beginning of the exercise during the
briefing in '89?" JC asked
"I said 'Don't shoot me down, I'm with the KGB'"
"And..."
Hunter felt the heat rise into his ears; even after a decade he
could feel the stares of the Aggressor Squadron on the back of his
head and the laughter of his own ARDU squadron. "I said it in
Russian"

JC lowered his pistol slightly and Hunter knew that he had, at least
partially, convinced JC that he, the Hanger and the city were real.
In kind Hunter lowered the sights of his own pistol.

In the dead silence that the situation had created, the sound of
someone moving came from the part of the hanger that was above the
two.  JC and Hunter responded by turning towards the sound and
firing repeatedly until the magazines on their weapons ran dry.

After the echoes had faded and their ears had stopped ringing, the
two calmly reloaded their guns, exchanging comment about each
other's respective marksmanship.  As they did this, Lieutenant Feral
and the SWAT Kats showed up from the other side of the hanger where
they were waiting, guns drawn and Gloveitrixes armed.

"Hunter, what the hell happened?" T-Bone asked, levelling his
Gloveitrix at JC
"We had an intruder" Hunter replied "Lieutenant, you might want to
check on Miss Gora's CamreaKat; the poor guy is probably going into
shock right now"
"I'll get onto it" the lieutenant replied before going to a small
door that was set in the hangers main double doors
"What is he?" T-Bone asked, pointing his Gloveitrix at JC
"T-Bone, Razor, stand down.  The Major's friendly, most of the time"
Hunter added as an afterthought "I'll brief you guy's later"

"You'll keep, Captain" JC said under his breath, Hunter heard the
comment but choose to ignore it

************************************************************************

Outside Hanger 18 a small media circus had gathered upon receiving
word that the UFO landed at the airport and had been moved to the
hanger.  Enforcer units and airport security were controlling the
small but growing crowd intent on seeing both the UFO and its pilot.

When gunfire was heard most of the crowd instinctively crouched down
to avoid any stray shots.  At the Kats Eye News van, Ann Gora saw
her camera Kat, Johnny, stumble up towards her, his paws shaking.

"What happened, Johnny?" Ann asked
"They... They shot at me!" Johnny exclaimed
"They?" Ann said, "Is there more than one?"
"No Ann, there's just one alien.  But they both shot at me!" Johnny
replied, sitting down in the open door of the news van
"WHO?"
"The new SWAT Kat"
Ann decided that she also needed to sit down as well "Are you
telling me that the pilot of that UFO, and Hunter both shot at you?"
"Yes!"

Ann made a mental note to investigate the matter further at a later
date, but first she needed to find out what else Johnny saw.  "What
did the alien look like?" she asked her distraught camera Kat
"It was horrible, Ann.  It had very dark skin, like it had been
burnt, almost no fur and its ears where on the sides of its head"
Ann was stunned for a moment "Was it male or female?"
"I couldn't tell, I was just trying to survive"

Ann was about to continue questioning her camera Kat when Lieutenant
Feral appeared at the news van.  "What happened" she asked Johnny.
Johnny related his story to the Lieutenant.

"And what where you doing up there?" Felina asked
"Just getting some tape for the morning news"
"Not anymore you're not.  I'm taking your tape"
Ann was immediately on the ball "Why Lieutenant?" she asked "What
about freedom of the press? What about the first amendment?"
"What about their privacy? What about your ethics?"
"What about their weapons?" a third voice asked

All eyes looked towards the technician who was reviewing the film
that had sparked the argument.  Pointing to the screen with his pen
"Just what are these things here, here and here?" he asked as the
tape ran

"Well, those three are Reconnaissance pods, those other two are fuel
drop tanks.  Also known as 'Jugs'" Lieutenant Feral, Ann, Johnny and
the technician let out a yelp as they nearly jumped out of their
collective fur.  The Lieutenant was the first to regain her
composure.

"Hunter, what are you doing here?" she scolded
"I needed to get my hands on a phone"
Lieutenant Feral handed Hunter a mobile phone as Ann questioned part
of his last sentence
"Hunter, what are hands?"
"This is a hand" Hunter replied, holding up his right paw and
flexing the four digits for effect
"That's a paw"
"Whatever!"

Hunter hurriedly tapped the numbers on the mobile phone and placed
it to his ear.  After a couple of seconds the connection was made
and the phone at the other end began to ring.  When it was answered,
Hunter simply said "Sir, I require your assistance" He then went on
to describe the situation and listened to the Professor's
instructions

When Hunter had made note of what Professor Hackle had said he
pocketed the mobile and turned to Lieutenant Feral.  "Lieutenant" he
said, "Can I use an Enforcer squad car?"

Lieutenant Feral didn't know exactly what Hunter wanted, but she had
a rough idea.  "You want to borrow a cruiser?"
"Whatever, just so long as it can get the Major and myself to
wherever we're going in safety"
"No dice, SWAT Kat.  If you're going to take a cruiser out for a
joyride I want to know exactly where you and that alien are going"

Hunter looked as if he was going to argue the point but he suddenly
smiled and said "You're quite right Lieutenant, I cannot ask you to
let me use Enforcer equipment for SWAT Kat reasons." With that he
walked back to Hanger 18, still smiling.

Felina wondered what exactly the SWAT Kat was going to do, but
thought better of it when she remembered his smile.  How could such
a warm action make her want to run as far away as she possibly could?

Inside Hanger 18 Hunter motioned for JC and the SWAT Kats to come
closer.  "Razor, is the type II Cyclotron loaded?"
"Affirmative, but you don't know how to drive it"
"I don't have to.  JC here" Hunter said, jerking his thumb at the
Major "Can, that is unless he's lost his knack"
"Your gonna regret saying that, boy!"

Hunter made his way to the Raptor and retrieved his MP-5 and
ammunition, 3 thirty round magazines that attached to his right leg
strap.  He handed the weapon to JC and asked, "You know how to use
this thing?"
"Hunter, contrary to popular belief.."
"And all the evidence I can dig up"
"..I did qualify in the use of automatic weapons," JC said as he
checked the weapon "Where's yours?"
"There is another one attached to the Cyclotron; I'll use that one"

************************************************************************

At Dreamland, Airman Samuel Denley had just finished checking his
equipment for the third time, but the sad truth was that Major
Callen's aircraft had disappeared in the same area that had claimed
Flight lieutenant Hunt.

He called over the duty Sergeant, Sergeant William Carter, for the
second time in the past half-hour.  The first time was when Callen
went missing and Denley was ordered to check his equipment to make
sure that it was working properly.  This time he knew that the
equipment was in perfect working order.  Major Callen had vanished

Carter had orders to follow; they stated that when Major Callen
reported back or if anything happened to him, (such as
disappearing), to call the General's adjutant, who would decide if
it were important enough to wake the General at three am.

It was and she did.  The phone in the General's quarters buzzed
softly at first but steadily turned into a harsh ringing, rousing
the General from his slumber.

"It's..." Drybeck began trying to find his watch.  After a few
seconds he gave up, "...Very early.  This had better be good!"
"Sorry to wake you General" the adjutant said "But we have a situation"
"What type of situation?"
"The boys down in the Command Centre have lost Major Callen"
"What do you mean by 'lost' exactly?"
"One moment he was on radar, on the next sweep he was missing"
"Understood.  I want a full report by 0730 hours.  I'll have
flapjacks with maple syrup, hashbrowns and orange juice" before the
adjutant could reply, he had hung up the phone and was desperately
trying to catch a few more hours of sleep.

The adjutant sighed.  How on earth would she convince the cook, at
three in the morning, to make flapjacks to be ready at seven thirty!

************************************************************************

The Cyclotron stopped at one of the quiet suburban streets that were
far away from MegaKat international airport. Had anybody tried to
track the Cyclotron and its strange passengers as they left the
Airport they would have found out what a strange sense of humour the
passenger had.

"Did you enjoy that, Tim?" Callen asked as Tim made the final mark on his
map
"Oh, yeah!" Tim said, flashing Callen a toothy grin "Now, North!
We're eight minutes out from our destination"
"That's about nine miles," Callen said, doing the rough calculations
in his head
"Closer to 14 Kilometres, Major.  I bet you thought that we where at
least 50 miles away, right?"
"You think I'm going to admit that?" Callen said starting the
Cyclotron "But with your navigation skills, I wouldn't be surprised
if we ended up right where we started"

As the Cyclotron sped from its stop, Tim tossed the map over his
shoulder.  When it came to rest beneath a nearby street light, the
evasion route that Tim had ordered Callen to take had been marked in
red pen on the map itself.  And under the street light it stood out
alone.


|        |       ______           /\
|        |      /      \         /  \
|        |     /                /    \
|        |     \               /      \
|        |      \______       /________\
|        |             \      |        |
|        |              \     |        |
|        |              /     |        |
\________/      \______/      |        |  .

************************************************************************

Inside Hanger 18, Razor and Lieutenant Feral where crawling all over
JC's F-15.  T-Bone was trying to work out why the two aircraft had
different controls.  While the newer Aircraft was obviously the
Raptor, if you used a Kat way of assessing age, with digital gauges,
warning lights, several computer screens.  It had both the look, and
feel of a more modern aircraft.

The F-15 had dials, few warning lights with only a single radar
screen and a single VDU.  From what he had seen of Hunter, T-Bone
assumed that humans would assess the age of equipment in a similar
manner. So why send an old plane to look for a new one?  Why not
just send another F-22?

Mentally T-Bone slapped himself, Hunter was a test pilot and the
Raptor was a test aircraft.  It would stand to reason that his
commanders wouldn't send another F-22 in case the same thing
happened, so they sent a lesser plane instead.

If an F-15 was their idea of a lesser plane, and the Raptor was a
state-of-the art test aircraft, T-Bone wondered what was currently
in service.

"Bingo!" Razor said, breaking T-Bones train of thought "Apart from
the cannon this aircraft is completely unarmed"
"They put a cannon on that thing?" Lieutenant Feral asked, poking
her head out from under the wing
"A 20mm six barrel rotating Gatling gun, an M161-A Vulcan or, as
Hunter would call it, a decent sized gun" T-Bone said "Razor, how
much ammunition is it carrying?"
"500 Rounds"

T-Bone let out a low whistle; 500 rounds could do a lot of damage.
Just ask the pilots of the Enforcer choppers that Hunter shot down
when he first arrived, but he had used over 700 rounds in that
little encounter.

"What's so great about this Vulcan?" Lieutenant Feral asked
Both T-Bone and Razor looked thoughtfully at the Lieutenant.
Finally Razor spoke "Think of it as a version of our cement machine
gun, that has a much faster rate of fire, that fires at much faster
velocities over a greater range and will penetrate MegaAlloy armour
with relative ease"
"It's not something that you want to talk about" T-Bone finished

************************************************************************

Callen stopped the Cyclotron outside the iron gates that marked the
boundary of Professor Hackle's home.  When they didn't open, Hunter
fired one shot into the gates setting off a number of alarms inside
the Professor's residence.  Seconds later the gates opened.

"Let me guess.  You fractured the occasional law?" Callen asked,
restarting the Cyclotron
 "You could say that" Hunter replied, as the Cyclotron moved through
the gates and onto Professor Hackle's estate.

The garage door opened.  As Callen drove through, Professor Hackle
was waiting for them.  "My apologies for keeping you and your friend
waiting SWAT Kat" Hackle said "I have the devices that you require,
but first I must determine if your friend is from the same dimension
as you are from"

"Understood, Professor" Hunter said as he motioned for JC to pass
him his dogtags "Would these be sufficient?" he asked
"Oh yes, these will do nicely" Hackle replied, running a hand-held
scanner over the metal disks "The computer will take several hours
to analyse and compare the quantum frequencies from your identity
disks.  I suggest that we all get some rest until then"

"Yes professor!" JC and Hunter said in unison, Without breaking into
a smile, Hackle went upstairs to catch a few more hours of sleep,
while in the workshop JC and Hunter slept back-to-back on an old
couch that was next to the computer.

The next thing either of the two pilots knew was that it was light
out and Professor Hackle was gently prodding them with his cane.
"What time is it?" Hunter asked

"It has just turned Six o'Clock" Hackle answered.  After checking
his watch and finding the Professor's time to be accurate, Hunter
stood up.  And with no support for his back, JC promptly collapsed
onto the couch, still half asleep.

No one present noticed his antics.  After all, he was a test pilot
and thus was allowed to be a little on the wild and crazy side.

"SWAT Kat" Hackle began "The computer has completed its analysis and
I am pleased to say that the two of you are from the same dimension"
Hackle waited for some sort of reaction from Hunter or JC; the only
response he got was the sound of JC snoring.

"I have made a small dimensional porthole generator that will have
to be installed on board your aircraft.  It has been pre-set to send
you back to your home dimension" Hackle smiled "Fortunately I made
several, you SWAT Kats are so hard on my inventions"

Professor Hackle then proceeded to give Hunter a rundown on the
dimensional porthole generator and how to install it on board their
aircraft.

"Ready to go, Captain?" JC asked
"Ready when you are, sir" Hunter replied
Both officers then saluted the Professor before doing a crisp about
face and returning to the Cyclotron, carrying their precious cargo
like it was the most valuable jewel in MegaKat City.

************************************************************************

The small crowd of curious onlookers outside of hanger 18 was
growing into a large crowd, several extra Enforcer units had been
called in during the past three hours, and to make things worse
Lieutenant Commander Steele had arrived to take command.

It was a splendid example of the incompetent leading the unable.

"Okay everybody, stand back.  This area is under Enforcer control,"
Steele said through his loud hailer.  He then made the hanger and
its contents a restricted area and anybody who tried to breech it
would be shot.

As this was happening the Cyclotron carrying JC and Hunter had
re-entered MegaKat International and were speeding towards Hanger
18.  Without warning they skidded to a halt.

"You see that?" JC asked
"Yeah, I see it" Hunter replied.  Scanning the crowd, he found the
who and the what that he was looking for "Stay with me, Major.  I
have an idea"
"It's official, we're doomed"

In the Kats Eye news van, Johnny's mobile phone rang.  It rang a
second time before he noticed, by the third ring he had answered
it.  He had no idea who was calling, but he was going to give them
an earful for ringing him at a time like this.

It was Johnny who got his second shock in three hours when he heard
the voice on the other end of the line.  After a couple of seconds
he silently passed the mobile to Ann, who gingerly put it to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked, "Who is this?"
"Miss Gora, I'm hurt!" Hunter replied
Ann nearly dropped the mobile.  Grasping it in both paws she asked,
"Where are you?" while scanning the area
"Check your six" Hunter replied
"My what?" she asked
"Look behind you"
Ann casually glanced over her shoulder, out of the corner of her
eye.  For a brief second, she saw the single headlight of the
Cyclotron light up.

"You see that?" Hunter asked
"Yes, I did.  Why are you calling me?"
"I need some information and some help"
"Okay" said Ann, her reporter instincts kicking in "What's in it for me?"
On the other end of the phone Hunter smiled "Try the news story of the
week!"
"Oh, sounds nice" Ann purred "What's the story?"
"The departure of the Major and myself from this universe for our
own." There was a pause at Ann's end.  Then "What information do you
need?"

************************************************************************

Two Enforcers where patrolling each side of Hanger 18; JC and Hunter
planned to neutralise those at the hanger's side entrance.  The
guards met in the middle of the their patrol area, turned and walked
back.  When they had their backs to each other, JC and Hunter would
take advantage of the situation and attack.

Getting Ann Gora to move the news van close to the Enforcer
barricade, JC and Hunter hid on top, waiting for the right moment to
pounce on their respective targets. When the time was right, the two
air force officers leaped from the news van and onto the patrolling
Enforcers.

JC landed on his target's shoulders, knocking him to the ground.
When the Enforcer got to his feet, JC rewarded his efforts with a
roundhouse kick to the head, taking him out of commission.

Hunter was having some trouble.  He had missed his opponent on the
first attempt and received a rifle butt in the face for his effort.
Dazed, Hunter punched his opponent several times in the chest and
abdomen.  While the Enforcer recovered from Hunter's vicious attack,
Hunter looped his right arm around the Enforcers neck and was about
to snap it when JC called out.

"Captain!" he hissed, "Zero body count" Hunter looked at his wingman
"Understood, sir!" Hunter hissed back as he let the stunned Enforcer
drop to the ground.  Silently running to the personnel door of
Hanger 18, they readied their MP-5's to single shot semi-automatic.
JC held up three fingers, then two, then one.  When he made a fist
Hunter burst through the door.

"SWAT Kats!  Don't move!" he yelled when he was clear of the door,
closely followed by JC who yelled his own warning.  The Enforcers
where so stunned by what was happening that they offered no
resistance when T-Bone and Razor relieved them of their rifles.
Steele, on the other hand, was another matter.

The Lieutenant Commander tried to make a break for the side exit
that JC and Hunter had came through.  Seeing this, Hunter turned,
dropped to one knee and fired off two rounds at the fleeing Kat.
Both bullets hit their mark in his left thigh, effectively stopping
him in his tracks.  Clutching his leg and screaming in exaggerated
pain, the Enforcer second-in-command made a single stride before
falling to the hanger floor where Hunter rushed over to him.

Rolling Steele over with his foot, Hunter made sure that the
Enforcer was alive and unarmed before effortlessly lifting him and
carrying him to where the others were waiting.

Outside things where just getting interesting.  Commander Feral had
been woken up less that half an hour before by a phone call from Ann
Gora.  She had told him that Hunter had asked for the Enforcers
mobile command centre to be brought to MegaKat International airport.

Feral had heard what had happened through the Enforcer grapevine
while he was in transit to MegaKat International.  Frankly, he was
surprised that it had lasted this long without anyone getting
themselves killed.  He was confident that Hunter had the situation
under control.

That was until the call came over the radio that there was an
Enforcer down.  Silently he urged the driver to go faster, hoping
that it was either a false alarm or that the incident wasn't
serious.  Either way, he needed to get to MegaKat International as
fast as he could.

The mobile command centre was housed inside a grey semi-trailer with
'MegaKat Enforcers' painted in its side above the Enforcer logo.
When towed by a Mac truck with similar colouring, it was a sight to
be seen.

Yet not such a sight as to divert the crowd's attention from what
was happening inside Hanger 18.  As the MCC pulled up as close as it
could to Hanger 18, both the main doors opened up and two Enforcers
carried the injured Lt. Com Steele between them.

Feral, wearing Enforcer body armour instead of his trench coat,
rushed towards the Enforcers.  He asked, "What happened?"
"We where attacked, sir" Steele replied "That SWAT Kat and his alien
friend attacked us without any warning and.."
"Button it, Steele.  I didn't ask you!" Feral snapped, turning his
attention to the next highest-ranking Enforcer and repeated his
question.

"The new SWAT Kat and the alien came through the side door" the
Enforcer began, pointing in the general direction of the door that
Hunter and JC had made their entrance through "and challenged us.
Commander Steele tried to make a break for help and was wounded in
the process"

Feral mentally translated what he had been told into plain English
'Steele panicked, ran and got shot'.  "Then what?"

"The alien patched up Commander Steele and made us carry him out here, sir"
"Where's my niece?" the Commander asked, the worry in his voice
plain for all to hear
"She is unharmed and was still with the SWAT Kats when we left" the
Enforcer replied as his commander rushed pass him

When Feral heard the last piece of information he rushed through the
hangers' huge double doors.

********************************************************************************

Hunter had his head in the F-15's radar array when he heard the
sound of the hangers' main doors being opened and the sound of
weapons being drawn.  Stealing a peek from where he was working, he
saw that both JC and the remaining SWAT Kats had drawn their weapons
at somebody.  The fact that a shot hadn't been fired was promising.

"What the hell is going on here?" a thunderous voice boomed.  Hunter
gave a small sigh "Not now, Commander.  I'm kinda busy"
"Doing what?"
"Preparing to leave" Hunter said, looking up from the F-15's radar
array, and seeing that his support crew had gathered around the
irate Enforcer Commander.

Walking up to Commander Feral he jibbed "So, Commander.  What can I
do you for?"
Very funny, SWAT Kat" was the Commanders reply.   "I would like to
know just what you reckless hot-shots are doing here at this hour
and what is that?" he said pointing to JC

"Commander, 'that', as you so rudely put it, is my commanding
officer.  When he says 'jump' I jump, when he says 'shoot' I shoot.
Any questions?"
"You still haven't answered my question.  What are you hot-shots
doing here?"
"We are preparing to travel from the here to the there" Hunter said
cryptically, reaching into his breast pocket and handing Feral a
piece of paper "Speaking of which, can you acquire these items?"

Feral looked at the piece of paper.  On it was a list of items used
for displays- projector, whiteboards, maps etc.  Most, if not all,
of these items were available inside the airport.  It was not his
job to reason why Hunter wanted those items.  If it would get rid of
the crowd outside of Hanger 18 Feral would try just about anything.

"Do you need anything else?" Feral sarcastically asked "Coffee,
doughnuts, suicide pills?"
"Just fill the bloody list!"

Feral sensed that the conversation had ended when Hunter turned his
attention to his commanding officer and started spouting
techno-babble.  He left the hanger and began his search for the
items that Hunter had requested.

JC was pleased that the installation of the first of the dimensional
porthole generators in the F-15 was successful.  The second one was
the cause of some trouble.

"What do you mean it won't work?"
"Well Major, I can install it.  But I can't turn it on"
"You can't turn it on?"
"I can have either the Anti-Gravs or the generator.  But not both at
the same time"
"Not enough power?"
"Not enough power"

Something didn't quite add up.  An F-22 had two of the most powerful
engines that had ever been used in a NATO aircraft.  Someone had
tampered with the Raptor's engines, Callen knew that Hunt didn't
tamper with the engines and he wouldn't let the SWAT Kats do any
modifications either.  The only logical solution was that the
engines weren't operating at full capacity when Hunt took off at
Dreamland.

"Install it.  You'll have to take the Anti-Gravs off line after we
reach altitude"
"Roger that"

Hunter finished the installation in time for Commander Feral to walk
in the door dragging a luggage cart with the items that Hunter
requested, including a box of 9mm bullets.

"Commander, how thoughtful" said Hunter as he picked up the box of
cartridges "Did you get the rest?"
"Maps, whiteboard, markers, projector.  I even found a table to put
everything on"

Hunter glanced at the SWAT Kats, as if to say 'And you thought that
he couldn't find his butt with both hands'.  Turning his attention
back to Commander Feral he told him to set up the equipment.

A tap on his shoulder broke Hunter's stride as he turned to face his
wingman "What's up, Boss?" Hunter asked
"Are you going to nurse those all night" JC asked, pointing to the
box of cartridges that Hunter was still carrying "Or are you going
to do something useful with them?"

JC was surprised when Hunter handed him the empty magazine that was
full only hours before and the box.  As an afterthought Hunter
retrieved three rounds and inserted them into the magazine of his
MP-5 as he moved off.  JC took the not-so-subtle hint and began to
refill both the magazines that Hunter and himself had used.

T-Bone looked at the photograph that Commander Feral had projected
on one of the hanger walls.  It was an overhead shot of MegaKat
central bridge; the same bridge that Hunter had appeared over.

"What are you going to do, Commander?" T-Bone asked
"I'm going to use twelve Enforcer 'choppers to create a permitter at
1 mile from the bridge.  North being twelve o'Clock"
"Make it eleven 'choppers, Commander" Hunter said, appearing from
the shadows, "I promised Ann Gora an exclusive"
"I'll try to fit her in, but no promises"
"Understood" Hunter continued "T-Bone, can you and Razor coordinate
the 'choppers from above and make sure that nothing breeches the
perimeter?"
"We'll do our best"

Hunter then beckoned the Major over to where Commander Feral, T-Bone
and himself were standing.  JC, sensing as to why he was needed,
took out his map of the canyon and spread it out on the table.

"Our point of entry into this world was along this canyon, here" JC
explained "If we reverse course 180 degrees we have just over a
second to pull up"
"Or what" T-Bone asked
"Or the boys at the ranch will be picking Hunter and myself off of
the canyon walls with tweezers and blotting paper!"

*************************************************************************

JC grabbed Hunters arm as they walked back to their aircraft.  "You
don't have to do this, Captain," said JC "You don't have to put your
life on the line like this"
"Cut the crap, Major" Hunter replied "You still owe me Five Bucks!"
"I had to try" JC said as he gave Hunter a gentle shove towards his
aircraft.

Felina was stroking the nose of the Raptor, an action that mimicked
what Hunters own actions of a week ago when he did his pre-flight
inspection at Dreamland.  'How long has she been standing there?'
Hunter thought 'Probably since I burst through the door'

"Something on your mind, Lieutenant?" Hunter asked Felina
"Just wondering if I'll ever get a chance to fly this thing"
The beginnings of a smile formed in the corner of Hunters mouth.
"Don't Worry, Lieutenant.  You'll get your chance, you have my word
on it"

Hunter climbed the ladder in front of his F-22.  Just before
entering his cockpit he glanced over his shoulder towards T-Bone and
Razor, who were already in the cockpit of the TurboKat, and to JC
who was in a similar position to himself.

"Hey, Major!" Hunter called "Want to earn your money back?"
"Sounds like a bet, Captain!"

*************************************************************************

T-Bone hadn't heard the conversation that had occurred between JC
and Hunter, but the look in the Major's eyes said that something big
was going to happen.

"Tower from SWAT Kat oh-one" T-Bone said "Request permission to taxi"
"SWAT Kat oh-one" The controller replied "Permission granted to taxi
to runway oh-three west"
"Roger that tower"

Hunter watched rays of morning sunlight streak across the TurboKat
fuselage and canopy as it left to cover of Hanger 18 and taxi
towards the third East/West Runway.

Hunter considered pushing the Raptor's 'start-up' button, but he
dismissed the thought almost as soon as it had arisen.  This time he
HAD to show off for the crowd, there was a good chance that he might
not be able to make a return appearance.

"Tower from Black Stallion oh-one" JC said over the radio "Request
permission to taxi"
"Black Stallion oh-one.  Permission granted to taxi to runway
oh-three west"
"Roger that, tower"

With practiced ease, Hunter began to perform a manual start-up of
the Raptor.  First he closed the connections to the batteries,
giving power to the electrical systems.  Next he used the power from
the batteries to start the left engine, when that engine had enough
power he used its turbine speed to start the right engine.

With both engines running at idle power, Hunter was able to start
the internal power and boot up the Raptors flight computer.  Hunter
wanted to reach altitude fast so he activated his Anti-Gravs, even
though it meant that later he would have to turn them off before he
could go home.

Targeting and navigational systems booted up by themselves, the data
that they would provide will be invaluable when it came time for
Hunters debriefing.  Hunter also decided to keep the undercarriage
lowered, manually taking off will be more fun than just floating out
of the hanger.

Hunter nosed the Raptor out of the relative safety of Hanger 18 and
into the morning sunlight.  He saw the TurboKat take off and JC's
F-15 had just finished taxiing and was awaiting permission to take
off.

"Tower from Duck-hole two-nine" Hunter said, using his Australian
radio call number "Request permission to taxi and tandem take off
with Black Stallion oh-one"
"Hold on, Duck-hole" the controller said.

Hunter knew that the controller was talking to JC about his
request.  Apparently such a manoeuvre was unknown at this airport.
"Tower to Duck-hole two-nine, permission granted to taxi and tandem
take off with Black Stallion oh-one on runway oh-three west"

Hunter smiled beneath his mask; JC had convinced the flight
controller that a tandem take off was possible.  "Roger that,
tower.  Proceeding"

Hunter manoeuvred his Raptor into position behind and to one side if
JC's F-15.  "Power to idle" Hunter said.  JC was in command of the
next manoeuvre, if Hunter accelerated to fast or pulled up to late
the effect could be a disaster.

"Set power for 10 knots" JC ordered as the F-15 slowly moved forward
"Power set!" Hunter replied as his own aircraft kept pace
"Keep up, Captain!  Accelerating to 20 knots"
"Accelerating!"
"Stay with me, Hunter.  I'm opening the throttle"

Under normal conditions Hunter would be fighting the jet wash from
the F-15's twin engines and the turbulence created by the wings as
the air moved over them, but the computer systems in the Raptor made
constant adjustments to the aerodynamics of its wings keeping them
stable.

JC increased power to his own engines as he rolled down the runway,
pleased that Hunter was keeping up with him, when his airspeed
reached 130 mph JC gently pulled back on the stick and his Eagle
took flight.

Behind his mask, Hunter permitted himself a smile, instead of doing
a straight take off, why not add a twist? 'Better not' he thought 'I
can show off some more later, besides this is something new for the
crowd'

Quickly the pair of aircraft climbed towards 1000 feet, where they
would break formation and circle, slowly gaining altitude until they
reached 15,000 feet.

"Captain, these jugs are killing my manoeuvrability.  I'm going to
lose them over the river" said JC "Make sure that they don't hit the
ground"
"Roger that" Hunter replied, "Going in hot"

Over MegaKat River, JC released both of his 150-Gallon 'Jugs' and
three flares for Hunter to target before jinking hard to the right.
The heat-seeker in Hunters remaining AIM-9L locked onto the flares
before it had left the weapons bay.

"Fox Two!" Hunter said as he fired the missile towards the three
flares burning between the two falling drop tanks.  Within seconds
the 'sidewinder' missile had reached its target and detonated in a
spectacular ball of fire that completely obliterated both jugs and
their remaining fuel.

>From the cockpit of the TurboKat, Razor saw JC's F-15 release it's
drop tanks and the resulting fireball caused by Hunters' missile.
"When you two are finished playing" Began Razor "the formation is
almost complete.  Get ready"

Setting up the helicopter permitter was easer than it had originally
seemed. After Hunter's display of force against Lieutenant Commander
Steele the rest of the Enforcers were quite willing to lend what
assistance their Commander deemed necessary.

Ann Gora and Johnny were in Katseye 2, the backup Katseye news
'chopper (in use while Katseye 1 was under repairs), getting several
good shots of Hunter's F-22C and JC's F-15C practise their re-entry
manoeuvres.

Seeing two aircraft of radical design fly at just under the speed of
sound so close to his camera terrified and, at the same time,
thrilled Johnny.  He watched the new SWAT Kat's plane position
itself behind and to the left of, what appeared to be, his
commanding officers plane and fly straight towards MegaKat central
bridge, then suddenly break formation after passing above the
bridges central structure, only to circle around, re-form and repeat
the process another time.

After the forth practise run JC transmitted the 'go' signal to the
Enforcer 'chopper formation and to T-Bone and Razor in the TurboKat.

Forming up on his wingman, Hunter went through the final rundown
before both he and JC took the final step towards their goal.

"A.G's off, porthole generator is on-line"
"Roger that, Hunter.  Put your visor down, it could get bright real soon"
"Roger.  T-Bone, Razor; thanks for the memories!"

Hunter complied, putting his visor down made good sense, not only
was the morning sun growing in intensity, but Professor Hackle had
said that there would be a high number of free energy photons given
off; to Hunter and JC that meant a lot of light.

The two aircraft banked towards MegaKat Central Bridge and quickly
gained speed as they had done several times before during their
practice runs.  Closer and closer they flew to their target; the
anticipation of the two pilots reached fever pitch.  They were now
only seconds away from their goal.

"Go!  Go!  Go!,"  JC shouted over the radio.  When he heard this,
Hunter activated the generator.  In a brilliant flash of pure white
light, the familiar backdrop of MegaKat City had disappeared and was
replaced by the rusty red walls of the testing canyon at Dreamland.

"Pull up! Pull up! Pull up!"
"KRUD!" swore Hunter as he pulled the stick back hard and kicked in
the F-22's afterburners "I've come too far to become a red splat" he
grunted as he felt the G forces push against his body.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hunter cleared the Canyon and
reformed on his wingman.
"That was a rush!" said JC
"You're right!  Let's not do it again.  Pull up??"
"Yeah, alright.  A heading of 138 degrees will take us directly back
to Dreamland"
"Roger that, Major.  You take the lead"

*************************************************************************

Alarms sounded all over Dreamland seconds after JC and Hunter
re-appeared.  To the personal at Area 51 they weren't the two
missing aircraft that had disappeared, they were unidentified, and
possible hostile, aircraft.

"What the hell is going on here?" General Drybeck asked as he
stormed into the Operations room at Area 51.  Not only was he
bothered by the alarm and the organized chaos that it caused, but he
was more than likely going to have to skip breakfast.

"Two contacts just appeared in canyon Echo five, sir" Airman James
Carey said from his radar station
"Are there any birds up?"
"Two F-16's are on the tarmac now, sir" the airman replied "The only
other aircraft unaccounted for are Black Stallion oh-one and Whisper
oh-one"
"Scramble the F-16's!"
"Roger that, sir"

Another airman handed a computer printout to the General.  On it was
an analysis of the two contact's EM signature; the first one was
identical to Callen's Eagle.  The second was similar to Hunt's
Raptor, but had subtle differences, yet it was somehow familiar.

"Sir, they're transmitting IFF recognition codes and transponder
signals"
"Verification?"
Airman Carey opened and closed his mouth like a stunned fish, "Sir"
he squeaked "IFF codes are valid and confirmed as those belonging to
Black Stallion oh-one and Whisper oh-one"
"Good grief"

*************************************************************************

With a small 'Click' Hunter shut off his transponder, there seemed
no point in keeping it active.  "Signal sent" he called to his
wingman "Now what?"

"We continue," was JC's reply. "According to regulations and
procedures, they should be launching interceptors about now"
"And what should we do in the mean time?"
"We keep flying"

Waiting was the hardest thing that Hunter had done since his initial
disappearance.  At the back of his head he could almost feel the
sensors of the awaiting interceptors bearing down on him.

Less than a mile away the second of the two F-16's activated his
targeting radar.  Both JC and Hunter's own warning systems flashed,
alerting them to the obvious threat.  After manually shutting off
the alarms, JC opened his mike.

"Black Stallion oh-one to unidentified aircraft, squawk and IDENT on
GUARD"
"Black Stallion oh-one, this is Rapier oh-seven.  Come right to 152
degrees and hold"
"Roger that"

Hunter heard the conversation between JC and Rapier oh-seven, and,
although he couldn't place a name to the voice, he had heard the
voice around the base before.

Running silent, Hunter casually slipped in behind Rapier oh-seven
and activated his targeting radar.  Only to have a SECOND radar
target HIM.

"Stand down your weapons, Whisper"
"Who the HELL?" Hunter swore, looking over his shoulder at the
second F-16 that was mirroring his actions.
"Whisper oh-one, meet Rapier oh-six," said JC. "His friend behind me
is Rapier oh-seven, or as you know them, Black and Decker"
"Oh great, we've been bounced by the Drill Team!"

"Timmy!" Black said over the radio, Hunter could hear the
cheerfulness in his voice
"Timothy!" Decker said with equal glee "You're late!"
Hunter ignored the verbal barb; "My name is Tim.  Timmy is a kid
with an all day sucker, and Timothy is some English aristocrat"

"Whatever, our orders were to identify just what you guys were and
to report back" said Black "So just sit tight for a while"
"And if you move, we'll blow you out of the sky!" Decker said with a
bad Spanish accent
"DECKER!!!" screamed JC, Hunter and Black

*************************************************************************

"Incoming transmission from Rapier oh-six" said the airman that was
manning communications "The unknown contacts have been visually
identified as Whisper oh-one and Black Stallion oh-one"
"Have Rapier oh-six and oh-seven escort both aircraft in and have
emergency vehicles standing by along with three security teams"
"Roger that"

Throughout the base, crews scrambled to their posts, sirens wailed
as emergency vehicles headed towards Dreamland's auxiliary runway.

"Sir!  I'm getting a second transmission" the airman reported "It's
from Whisper oh-one"
"Put it on speakers"

"Ghostrider from Voodoo one" Came Hunter's voice "Requesting flyby"
The airman looked at Drybeck, who shook his head.  "Uh.. Negative
Ghostrider, the flight pattern is full"

Drybeck's brow furrowed as he poured himself a cup of coffee.  Why
on earth would an experienced pilot use such a wrong callsign?  It
sounded like something from a B-Grade movie.

His eyes widened in surprise - it was a line from a B-Grade movie,
and after that line was delivered... Drybeck hurriedly drank his
lukewarm coffee.

*************************************************************************

"Well, it's done"
"Hunter, please tell me that you're not serious"
"JC, I'm serious"

Hunter broke formation and headed directly for Dreamland's control
tower leaving JC, Black and Decker loitering behind.

Hunter levelled his speed at 450 mph, he only wanted to rattle a few
windows, not shatter them.  At this speed he would be in visual
range of the control tower in three seconds and past it in four.

"Hunter, you are not cleared for this manoeuvre" said JC
"So?"
"You can't just..."

JC's argument came just a few seconds too late as Hunter passed the
tower.  He imagined that there would be at least one person who
wouldn't have caught his movie reference and would now have to
change uniform.

Turning after his flyby, Hunter saw JC being 'escorted' by Black and
Decker.  Shutting down his porthole generator and activating his
Anti-Gravity drive, Hunter moved into formation with his wingman and
continued to be 'escorted' by the two F-16's.

"Major, you and the Flight Lieutenant are directed to land on runway
two alpha"
"Hey, Decker" asked Hunt "where's two alpha?"
"It's the one with all the emergency service vehicles on it!"
"Oh.. I knew that!"

Hunter proceeded to hover as JC touched down in front of the many
Fire engines, paramedical units and about twenty air police.  "I
told you that you weren't cleared for that manoeuvre!" said JC as he
saw the size of the reception committee that was armed.

"No shit, boss" replied Hunter.  Behind him Black and Decker landed
distracting some of the air police.
"You'd better apologise!" said Black
"Or we blow you into the sky!" said Decker in his bad Spanish accent

Hunter opened the canopy of his Raptor; he knew that he had to face
the music about his transformation sooner or later.

Releasing the canopy's internal latches, Hunter let the Raptor's
hydraulic system open the canopy for him.  Reaching with both paws,
he removed his flight mask and raised his visor.

The Air police cocked their M-16's at the sight of the creature.
Nervously Hunter swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

"Uh... I come in peace?"

*************************************************************************
To be continued....

"Remember T-Bone, when the pin is pulled, Mr Grenade is not our friend"
"Gotcha!"

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 3
   Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 16:04:42 PST
   From: "Jake Clawson" <razorjake@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: New Story: Going Home (1/1)

Could we try to be considerate and NOT use attachmnets? :) It's just that I
can't download stuff. And I wouod really like to see the stuff ppl send as
attachments...

Persia

>From: "Mark Johnson" <johnnosk@hotmail.com>
>Reply-To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>To: SWATKATS_FanFic@onelist.com
>Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] New Story: Going Home (1/1)
>Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 15:06:35 PST
>
><< Home.txt >>
><< text4.html >>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 24
Date: 12 Nov 1999 11:40:51 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

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------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAQ/ Rules:
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are 3 messages in this issue.

Topics in today's digest:

      1. War Letters #01
           From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>
      2. Re: New Story: Going Home (1/1)
           From: "Mark Johnson" <johnnosk@hotmail.com>
      3. War Letters #02
           From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Thu, 11 Nov 1999 06:45:03 -0800
   From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>
Subject: War Letters #01

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
                      Father Sun, Mother Night,
                     Sister Moon, Brother Beast,
                    Give strength to my sword-arm,
                      And courage to my soul.
                    Defend me in this coming war.

Dear Johnny,

Lifemate, love, how are things going at the office?  Chasing Ann
around still fun?  Has Sandra recovered from the flu?  Did Brandon
pass math?  Gods, I never thought I'd miss those stupid details I
always used to brush off.  Now it's all I think about, except staying
alive.  Don't worry.  I'll come back.  Even if I have to fight Anubus
and Hel themselves to do it.  I can see your expression now, you
know.  That mixture of amusement that I'd even think of that and
belief that I'd do it.  You know I would, I hope the kits do.  And
please stop comparing me to those two flyboys you chase around.  It's
completely different.

I know I shouldn't be complaining like this, but I know you
understand.

It's fuckin cold here.  Desert heat my tail, it hasn't gotten above 60
in two weeks.  And guess what?  No winter gear, no extra blankets or
sealed tents.  Not even hot food.  I dare you to be surprised, not
after 4 years.  No matter how much you want to forget it.  I'm glad in
a way you're not here.  At least our kittens will have one parent stay
with them.

I'm with the forward Cobra detachment now, and nobody has a clue what
to do with me.  What the hell is an Embarker doing with a field
chopper detachment?  I don't know, they don't know, the lugheads at HQ
don't know but aren't changing my orders.  I give up.  Play good
soldier and get the fuck out of here ASAP.  Hopefully not by getting
shot, though it's been close twice.

I'm almost a competent backseater in the Cobra now too.  What pilots
do to spare personnel when there's board.  Totally illegal, but no one
here fucken cares, and it'll probably save my hide eventually knowing
how to fly one of these demons, even minimally.

Don't worry too much, though.  Only been shot at a couple times in
four months, though I think that's about to change.

Bets you know the war's on before I do?

I love you, you know.  I'll see you when this is over.

And Beloved, try to find a way for me not to reenlist.  I can't do
this again.

Always in my heart,
    Rath

---------------------------------------------------------------
pg 2

Lightning flashes,
   Venting Gods' rage.
Devils' due,
   Get in the cage.
You're a mortal,
   Do as you're told.
You're a human,
   Puppet to be sold.

Lightning flashes,
   Venting Gods' rage.
Devils' due?
   Never the cage!
I'm a mortal,
   That's what you say.
I'm a human.
   Puppet's lord today!

Why can't I be this poetic at home?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

credits, notes and stuff.

Series:  War Letters
Title:   Letter Home 1
Author:  Jerok Furlson
Email:   Razor@peak.org
Parings: Johnny/ Rath (M/M)
Rating:  PG
Archive: Yes

Feedback: Much requested; from, 'loved it' to in depth crits are all
appreciated.  I'm new at this, though I read a lot.

Other websites: http://www.gatekat.net/Jerok_Furlson/index.html

Summary: A letter home from the warzone.

Notes: My first finished try at writing on my own, though I've helped
Rauhnee out here and there.  The two poems are by Rauhnee
GateKat@SWATKats.Net and have been used with permission.  After reading the
military holiday poem forwarded to slashing@onelist.com, I was sort of
compelled to write.

--
Jerok Furlson;
http://www.gatekat.net/Jerok_Furlson/index.html
I was your knight in shining armor
I was honor, I was rage
But I was nothing, 'til you showed me
My armor was a cage.
*****************************************************************

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 2
   Date: Thu, 11 Nov 1999 15:10:13 PST
   From: "Mark Johnson" <johnnosk@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: New Story: Going Home (1/1)

>From: "Jake Clawson" <razorjake@hotmail.com>
>Reply-To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
>Subject: Re: [SWATKats_FanFic] New Story: Going Home (1/1)
>Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 16:04:42 PST
>
>Could we try to be considerate and NOT use attachmnets? :) It's just that I
>can't download stuff. And I wouod really like to see the stuff ppl send as
>attachments...
>
>Persia

Sorry about that it's the only way I know how to send files through E-Mail.

Can anybody help me out?

************************************************************
There are two people that you don't annoy, God and me.  God will forgive
you, I won't

For information about Tim Hunt and the SWAT Kats:
Visit the International Bureau of Assassination
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Bistro/9742
************************************************************

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 3
   Date: Fri, 12 Nov 1999 01:41:47 -0800
   From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>
Subject: War Letters #02

Dear Rath,

Glad to hear from you, so are the kits.

Office, love?  Since when did I get to stay in the office?  Unless you
mean that van.  And you have no idea how accurate Chasing Ann is, that
shekat's nose for news gets more accurate for the dangerous kind every
month.  Fortunately our favorite flyboys - now you've got me calling
them that! - seem to have as much a crush on her as on the Deputy
Mayor.  Keeps me safe in the process, but I worry for her almost as
much as you -- you've got more common sense as strange as that sounds.

Sandra's healthy and running circles around all of us again.  She's
taken quite an interest in mechanics these days, or should I say A
Mechanic.  Nice guy, gayer than paris in spring though, not to mention
30 something.  I think he's bonded too, but I'm not that nosy yet.  He
hasn't been encuraging her and that's good enough for me so far.  She
is learning some useful skills too, saved us almost 300 on car repairs
so far.  It helps.

Yes, Brandon passed math, got a B and an A in poetry.  He asked me how
to get a girl to notice him yesterday.  I'm not sure I kept the shock
off my face.  Were you dating at 10?  Can you believe we raised two
het kittens?  So much for genetically inherited or environmental.

I need you home.  Having our daughter dating was bad enough, I don't
think I can keep up with two of them, especially as they show every
sigh of being as adventurous as we are.

And I wasn't comparing you to the flyboys.  Really.  Though who else
would fight gods ... just kidding.

I don't know about finding out before you, but by the time you get
this, the action has likely started.  Ann's keeping a special eye on
this one.  A lot of her friends are covering it.  Apparently you've
got one attached to your unit somehow, silver tabby tom, William
Sureclaw.  She says trust him.

As for not renlisting.  You Know my feelings on this.  We WILL do fine
without the second paycheck for a while.  Even the Enforcers are
better, at least you get to stay home most nights.

I've enclosed a packet Sandra says will keep you warm.  Just kneed it
and lay on your chest at night.  She says it'll be good for two months
of daily use.  I remembered not to ask how she did it this time.  She
is far too much like you sometimes, far too smart for anyone's good.

Love you and waiting impatiently,
Johnny

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

credits, notes and stuff.

Series:  War Letters (#2)
Title:   Letter Away 1
Author:  Jerok Furlson
Email:   Razor@peak.org
Parings: Johnny/ Rath (M/M)
Rating:  PG
Archive: Yes

Feedback: Much requested; from, 'loved it' to in depth crits are all
appreciated.  I'm new at this, though I read a lot.

Other websites: http://www.gatekat.net/Jerok_Furlson/index.html

Summary: The reply to a letter home.

--
Jerok Furlson;
http://www.gatekat.net/Jerok_Furlson/index.html
I was your knight in shining armor
I was honor, I was rage
But I was nothing, 'til you showed me
My armor was a cage.
*****************************************************************

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 25
Date: 13 Nov 1999 11:35:12 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

--------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ----------------------------

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Get an APR as low as 2.9 Intro & NO annual fee! Apply online today!
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAQ/ Rules:
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are 2 messages in this issue.

Topics in today's digest:

      1. War Letters #03
           From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>
      2. War Letters #04
           From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Fri, 12 Nov 1999 03:11:55 -0800
   From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>
Subject: War Letters #03

Dear Johnny,

This has to be quick, we're moving again to someother godforsaken
sandpit to the north.

I'm glad to hear everyone's doing better, and tell Sandra that her
heatpad works wonderfully.  If she can make up a few more they'd be a
real moral booster, knowing Somebody cares enough to send us useful
things.  God knows the government isn't.

I don't know what part of the war started, but it's not here.  It's
deader than an iceberg in the tropics.  and I second Ann's motion
to trust Sureclaw, he's a good kat.  Known him since I got here.  He's
seen more wars than I have, or want to.

Yes I was trying to date at 10, though it wasn't girls.  But you made
me promise not to go into all that.  Do I want to know how she met a
30 something mechanic well enough to want to date him?  As for girls,
it's not like you dated boys early on.  As long as they're happy,
though gay would be nice.

Could you do some job hunting for me?  Something with enough
adrenaline involved to keep me from going stircrazy.  And I'd rather
avoid the Enforces if possible, Feral gives me the creeps.

Give my love to the kits and always in my heart,
    Rath

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

credits, notes and stuff.

Series:  War Letters (#3)
Title:   Letter Home 2
Author:  Jerok Furlson
Email:   Razor@peak.org
Parings: Johnny/ Rath (M/M)
Rating:  PG
Archive: Yes

Feedback: Much requested; from, 'loved it' to in depth crits are all
appreciated.  I'm new at this, though I read a lot.

Summary: Letter from the warzone home #2.

--
Jerok Furlson;
http://www.gatekat.net/Jerok_Furlson/index.html
I was your knight in shining armor
I was honor, I was rage
But I was nothing, 'til you showed me
My armor was a cage.
*****************************************************************

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 2
   Date: Fri, 12 Nov 1999 18:53:13 -0800
   From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>
Subject: War Letters #04

Hi Daddy,

I've included as many of the heating pads as I could make.  Jake even
helped improved the formula a little.  He's teaching me how machines
work and stuff, and even gave me a part time job at his shop.  I love
you a lot.  Hurry home safe.

Love and hugs,
  Sandra

--------------------------------------------------------------
pg 2

Dear Rath,

If you couldn't guess love, Jake is her desired boyfriend.  I had a
not so little chat with him when he offered her a part time job at the
autoshop he runs with Chance, who I have yet to meet.  He really seems
to be a decent kat, if it wasn't for the age difference I think I'd
like him for an in-law.

He's about as gay as you are, been bonded for eight years, and finds
this whole crush business rather amusing.  But he really likes Sandra,
and thinks she's special -- something about her intelligence and
creativity I don't really understand, but he thinks is really
important.  It kind of sounded like what you say, really.  I get the
feeling he's not telling the entire truth about his business, but not
that he's laying about his interest in our baby.

Now I really wonder where you are, the ground war started three hours
after I mailed the last letter, and was over 125 hours after that.
You wrote after it was almost finished.  At least the mail turnarounds
a lot faster, but you're worrying me.  You're command's being far to
closemouthed, though a Lieutenant nearly choaked when I threatened to
stick Ann on them.  I haven't told the kits yet.

I hope you are well.

Love you,
Johnny

PS in the bottom of the envelope are a half dozen orange fruticas.
I'd send more, but this was all I could find.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

credits, notes and stuff.

Fandom:  SWAT Kats
Series:  War Letters (#4)
Title:   Letter Away 2
Author:  Jerok Furlson
Email:   Razor@peak.org
Parings: Johnny/ Rath (M/M)
Rating:  PG
Archive: Yes

Feedback: Much requested; from, 'loved it' to in depth crits are all
appreciated.

Other websites: http://www.gatekat.net/Jerok_Furlson/index.html

Summary: Another reply from home.

--
Jerok Furlson;
http://www.gatekat.net/Jerok_Furlson/index.html
I was your knight in shining armor
I was honor, I was rage
But I was nothing, 'til you showed me
My armor was a cage.
*****************************************************************

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 26
Date: 14 Nov 1999 11:12:05 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

--------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ----------------------------

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------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAQ/ Rules:
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is 1 message in this issue.

 Topics in today's digest:

      1. Re: New Story: Going Home (1/1)
           From: Rauhnee Ranshanka <GateKat@SWATKats.Net>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Sat, 13 Nov 1999 16:21:53 -0800
   From: Rauhnee Ranshanka <GateKat@SWATKats.Net>
Subject: Re: New Story: Going Home (1/1)

Mark Johnson wrote:
> Sorry about that it's the only way I know how to send files through
E-Mail.
> Can anybody help me out?

You can write the stories in e-mail (what I usually do) or copy and
past the next from your favorite program into your e-mail.  When copy
and pasting, you usually have to be careful about how long the story
is as many programs cut it off at a certain size (25-30 KB seems
average) and long messages do ugly things to certain programs on the
receiving end.  You can remedy this by pasting into several messages.

--
Rauhnee Ranshanka; Listhood SWAT Kat, GateKat and Katmin
http://www.gatekat.net/index.html
  Listmom to SWAT Kats: Canon, Adult and FanFic
  Keeper of The MKC BlackNet, The uncensored SK FanFic Archive
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/BlackNet/index.html
  Listmom to StarGate Slash: Gateway
  Keeper of Area 52: The HKH Standard (SG-1 Slash Archive)
http://www.gatekat.net/Area52/index.html
  Listmom to BrainStorm and Fantacy-Erotica-Art
*****************************************************************

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 27
Date: 17 Nov 1999 11:23:03 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

--------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ----------------------------

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------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAQ/ Rules:
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are 5 messages in this issue.

Topics in today's digest:

      1. (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(0/2).(PG)
           From: "Kristen Sharpe" <skgirl@hotmail.com>
      2. (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(1/2).(PG)
           From: "Kristen Sharpe" <skgirl@hotmail.com>
      3. (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(2/2).(PG)
           From: "Kristen Sharpe" <skgirl@hotmail.com>
      4. Re: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(1/2).(PG)
           From: "Norma Widener" <Riochet@email.msn.com>
      5. Re: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(1/2).(PG)
           From: "Kristen Sharpe" <skgirl@hotmail.com>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Tue, 16 Nov 1999 16:06:48 PST
   From: "Kristen Sharpe" <skgirl@hotmail.com>
Subject: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(0/2).(PG)

Title: Silent Pursuit
Author: Kristen Sharpe
Email: skgirl@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Status:  New - Complete
Date: November 16, 1999
Archive: No
Category: Drama
Series/Sequel: Series - my usual series, now termed the "Technical
      Difficulties" series.
Warnings: None

Other website:  The SK Fanfiction Archive (aka DJ's):
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/8850/fanfic.htm

Disclaimers: The SWAT Kats belong to and are copyright Hanna-Barbara
Cartoons.  They are used without permission.

Notes: About an eon ago, the challenge of writing a dogfight sequence was
proposed to the mailing list.  I started this roughly at that time - perhaps
a month later.  At any rate, I have finally finished it.
        As anyone more informed than myself will quickly note, my handling
of the
jets is probably pathetic.  Because of this, I attempted to focus more on
the situation and the characters than the technical aspects.  As always
advice and constructive criticism are more than welcome.

Summary: A routine night patrol abruptly becomes a deadly dogfight when the
SWAT Kats encounter a mysterious and relentless pursuer.

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 2
   Date: Tue, 16 Nov 1999 16:08:09 PST
   From: "Kristen Sharpe" <skgirl@hotmail.com>
Subject: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(1/2).(PG)

Title: Silent Pursuit, Part 1
Author: Kristen Sharpe
E-Mail: skgirl@hotmail.com
Date: July 27, 1998
        Finished: November 16, 1999
------------------------

        Searing bursts of red fire lit the night in a hellish glow.   The
fiery
brilliance glinted in lightning flashes across the night-dark fuselage of
the powerful fighter jet as it darted and swooped through the midnight sky.
The fireblasts were as silent as though the dark expanse of sky were the
infinite night of space.  But the jet's thunder belied the illusion, its
powerful engines roaring, sending echoes into the night.

        No moon lit the battlefield of the sky tonight.  It was a carpet of
the
deepest navy.  Only distant fuzzy glows in the abyss below penetrated the
fog that blanketed the jagged mountain peaks that stood as the sole audience
to the battle in the skies.

        Savagely, the big tomkat piloting the sable jet jerked the stick
toward his
body and sent the sleek aircraft into a near-vertical climb.  Engines
roaring defiantly, the fighter fought the earthward tug of gravity.  The
tomkat, his face a surreal green in the light of the HUD before him, braced
himself against the forces that fought to restrain any creature audacious
enough to attempt such speed, such height.  His pale golden fur barely
masked the taut muscles that stretched across his tense face.  Sweat-matted,
the fur clung to his skin, damp and clammy in the hot air of the cockpit.

        In the rear of the cockpit, the slim weapons officer grit his teeth
and
fought to hold onto his bucking stomach as the jet soared ever higher.  He
was needed now, perhaps more than ever.  Doggedly, he refused to succumb to
the g-forces, stubbornly clinging to consciousness as an even deeper night
than that outside the cockpit began to blot out the fringes of his vision.
He flinched  as his dimming vision perceived another burst of red slashing
past the cockpit glass, the reminder of the situation at hand helping to
snap him from his stupor.

        Their relentless pursuer was closing even as they thundered into
insane
altitudes.  The orange-furred kat fingered the stick before him, gently
pressing the top of the cap that sheltered the firing button.  He let his
fingers slid from it to squeeze the hand-contoured side of his stick.  He
had precious little use for that at the moment.  Self defense wasn't an
option tonight - not yet anyway.  As he reflected on the situation, the slim
tomkat thrust the rising panic he felt back into the pit from which it had
come.  He was needed now, by his partner and friend if no one else.

        "Razor, I'm goin' ta' Speed of Heat!" the burly pilot shouted back
to him
suddenly, his voice strained and gruff.

        "Roger," Razor forced out with some effort.  He felt the incredible
force
slam into his chest, felt his body pinned to the padded seat at his back.
Fighting the awesome force, Razor tried to focus on solving their dilemma.
He glanced briefly at the soft glow that was the dimensional radar before
him.  The blurred green mass still hovered just behind the TurboKat.  Razor
growled softly, half cursing a system that could almost blind them to an
enemy, half wishing to study it.  Resigned that technology would be no help,
he closed his eyes and tried to bring the image of the pursuing craft to
mind.

        He'd seen it only in flashes, spurts of fire that illuminated the
night.
He conjured a vague vision of a fighter reminiscent of the TurboKat in
design.  Sleek, pointed nose,... multiple
engines - but that was only a half-educated guess.  Razor struggled with the
effort of thinking as the pressure on his chest increased.  He was starting
to breath heavily, taking gulping breathes of the unnatural air that his
oxygen mask provided.  He tried to collect his thoughts.  He needed to see
the other jet, needed to...

        Razor suddenly felt the TurboKat level out.  His stomach immediately
took
flight all on its own.  He knew what was coming.  Any second now they would
plunge back downward, aiming at a trajectory that would take them far from
their pursuer, far from the mountains, aiming at the miles of barren desert
that stretched away from MegaKat City.  Razor battled the urge to succumb to
the blackness of unconsciousness.  The temptation pressed him relentlessly.
How much more pleasant to pass out now than to face the suffocating pressure
he knew was to come?

        "You still with me?" the voice cut through the fog numbing his
brain.
Razor's eyes snapped open at the sound.  With effort, he snorted derisively
in response.

        "I can handle just as many g's as you, T-Bone!" he growled through
his
nausea.

        T-Bone chuckled softly.

        "Let's see ya' prove it tomorrow in the centrifuge, eh?" he
retorted.

        Razor grinned faintly at T-Bone's cocky certainty.

        "Hope yer ready for more," T-Bone warned.

        "Bring it on!" Razor snapped, setting his jaw and taking a tight
grip on
the handholds by his seat as the jet rolled to the right to plummet
downward.

        The solid reassurance of floor beneath him suddenly vanished and,
for an
instant, the orange-furred kat felt as though he were alone in free fall,
nothing supporting him.  Then, the TurboKat rematerialized around him, his
seat beneath him.  Razor began his fight with the g's anew.

        T-Bone, meanwhile, ignored the g-forces.  The crushing force wasn't
pleasant, but his rock-like stomach stayed safely grounded.  The big kat's
concentration was centered on his flying.  His green eyes were dilated to
their fullest and still he saw nothing through the canopy.  He focused on
the dimensional radar's output and his other instruments for guidance.  The
altimeter's needle was dropping at an incredible, but safe enough, rate.
The dimensional radar, its image generator struggling to alter the incoming
images at pace with the jet's descent, indicated a fast-approaching mountain
peak below.  T-Bone grunted and angled the jet away from the peak and toward
the expanse of flat grids the radar displayed to the left of the jagged
peaks.  It was taking all his strength to fight the inexorable force and
keep the TurboKat on course.

        His course corrected, T-Bone glanced at the altimeter again.  One
mile up.
Just above the highest of the mountains.  He looked through the
laser-scarred glass to find a single fuzzy pinprick of light below.  The
only inhabited dot on this side of the mountain range, a ranger station or
something of the sort if his and Razor's assumptions were correct.
Satisfied, he began to level the jet out.

        Razor slowly returned from the foggy, half-conscious realm he'd
entered as
the TurboKat plunged from the sky.  The radar's green light greeted his
night-conditioned eyes and he blinked.

        "Hey, Razor, you there?" T-Bone called from the dimness ahead of
him.

        "Yeah, most of me anyway," Razor returned, blinking again.

        "Man, Razor, there was already so little of you," T-Bone teased.

        "Yeah, yeah," Razor griped.  Movement out of the corner of his eye
quickly
drew his attention to the dimensional radar screen.  "Uh, oh, I think our
friend has just realized where we are," he murmured.

        T-Bone looked up sharply to see the green shape, now only a speck on
his
dimensional radar scope, growing larger by the second as the craft homed in
on them.

        His head clearing, Razor remembered his thoughts from earlier.

        "T-Bone, put us in hover mode and just wait," he ordered suddenly.

        T-Bone grunted an affirmative and did as Razor had told him before
questioning his partner's scheme.  The VTOL engines were locked in position
and holding the TurboKat steady before he gave in to his curiosity.

        "So, what's the plan?"

        "First, I wanna see this guy," Razor returned, amber eyes narrowing.
"When
he gets close enough, I'm gonna light up his life."

        "And, make 'im see spots for his next seven lives," T-Bone chuckled.

        Razor grinned at the comment but quickly sobered, remembering the
seriousness of their situation.  His smile returned suddenly, a tight, grim
quirk of his mouth that held a surprisingly generous spark of hope.  "And,
maybe I can give us an edge in the process.  Get directly above him as fast
as you can after the flash."

        "Whatever you say," T-Bone agreed.  Razor didn't need his eyes to
see the
big tabby's cocky grin.  Live or die, this was how T-Bone would choose to do
either - at his job, trying his hardest.

        Razor had always appreciated T-Bone's confidence in his abilities,
but now
his partner's trust was shaking his own confidence.  He didn't like being
responsible for both their lives.  Needing reassurance of any plan he might
devise, he started to ask his partner for an honest estimate of their
chances.  He stopped himself hurriedly, choking the words down.  Why
annihilate T-Bone's half-jocular mood?  It was his partner's defense
mechanism against the kind of fears that were churning about Razor's own
mind.  No, it was unfair to ask it of his friend.

        T-Bone, however, seemed to sense the unasked question.

        "Think he was lyin'?" he asked Razor, voice soft but rumbling in his
deeper
registers.

        "Loadin' your jet with a homemade nuclear weapon just to chase us
down...."
  Razor shook his head in utter frustration.  "It's crazy, but then, how
many crazies have we fought in the last month?"

        T-Bone nodded in agreement, either forgetting that his partner
couldn't see
the movement or knowing that it wasn't necessary.

        "If it weren't for that theft at MegaKat Nuclear Plant months
ago..."
Razor trailed off before mumbling another half-verbalized thought.  "If he's
the one, he had enough uranium to make a bomb - a tiny one, but it's still a
nuclear weapon."  Razor fell silent and glanced at the rapidly growing mass
steadily crossing the radar scope.  Knowing the few possibilities - one of
which would.. *must* come -  he felt a coldness settling in the pit of his
stomach.

        "Well, we're alone now, so it's him or us," T-Bone growled abruptly,
his
voice now full volume and laced with anger.

        <Or both of us...,> Razor added silently in his mind.

        Talk ended as each kat became lost in his own thoughts, waiting.
Each
tomkat's muscles were taut.  T-Bone gripped the stick one-handed, his other
hand hovering by the throttle and the controls that would fire the rear
engines and retract the VTOL engines.  He would have seconds after Razor's
missile was away to move the jet; until that instant, they would be sitting
ducks.  Razor squeezed his stick one-handed as always, his pointer finger
resting at the edge of the firing cap.  He had to gauge his timing
perfectly.  He needed optimum range for the flashbulb missile to give him
the view of their attacker that he needed, but they couldn't sit like this
long once the other craft was within firing range.  Both kats waited; waited
for the faceless demon that had pounced upon them in the skies above the
nightlife of MegaKat City, their silent pursuer.

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 3
   Date: Tue, 16 Nov 1999 16:09:44 PST
   From: "Kristen Sharpe" <skgirl@hotmail.com>
Subject: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(2/2).(PG)

Title: Silent Pursuit, Part 2
Author: Kristen Sharpe
E-Mail: skgirl@hotmail.com
Date: July 27, 1998
        Finished: November 16, 1999

----------------------------------

        The green blur on the radar scope was regaining its former
proportions
rapidly.

        "That's it, let's get it over with," T-Bone purred softly.

        Razor tightened his grip on the stick, raising his other hand to
flip down
the visor in his helmet.  As he did so, he thought of his partner.

        "Lower your anti-glare visor," the orange-furred kat  hissed a
reminder as
he flipped the firing cap up.  His flicking ears registered T-Bone's
response as he focused his attention on the radar scope. "Aaand," the
orange-furred SWAT Kat breathed, stretching the word as his targeting
graphics appeared on the radar scope.  The lock tone sounded.  "Locked...
AWAY!"  Razor screamed the two words in one breath.

        Razor's eyes locked on his scope as the missile shot to its target.
Closer
and closer.  His head jerked up, eyes straining into the night as blinding
light burst upon the sable carpet of the night sky.  The flash was echoed in
the SWAT Kat's field of vision as the cascade of light seared his retina.
Razor gasped at the pain, the blast lashing across his sight even through
the visor.

        Even as his lids clamped down, the SWAT Kat smiled in some small
triumph.
He'd seen it.  The other jet.  A fighter.  It was a  fighter of some sort...
Reminiscent of their own jet.  Just as he'd thought... though unlike any
he'd ever seen.   His mind racing a mile a minute in an effort to process
the find, Razor missed the TurboKat's sudden acceleration until T-Bone's
gruff bark snapped him back to reality.

        "Razor!  We're almost in position over his jet!  You only have a few
more
seconds!"

        "That's all I need," Razor returned coolly, reaching for the button
that
would lower the TurboKat's magnetic lock-on device.

        As T-Bone matched speed with the other craft, Razor gauged the
location of
their pursuer's jet.  Closer, closer...  There!  His finger snapped down on
the button.  Razor waited.  Then, a solid ‘thunk' from below assured him
that the magnet had locked on to the other fighter.

        "Got ‘im!" he barked to T-Bone.  The words were hardly from his
mouth
before he was struggling free of the restraints that kept him firmly
strapped in and reaching for a cable beneath his seat.

        "Good," his partner grunted.  "I'm settin' ‘er down."   He paused,
hearing
Razor's movement.  "What're you doing?!" the big kat demanded.

        "If he really does have a bomb, maybe I can get to him before he can
detonate it," Razor returned, hitting the seat release at his side and
thrusting off the floor with his feet.  The motion sent his seat sliding
backward even as a panel in the floor opened.  Cold, damp air rushed into
the hot cockpit, blowing Razor's cheek fur as it drove stinging mist into
the skin beneath.   "At this point, could it hurt?"

        T-Bone's mouth opened to say, "Yes," then abruptly snapped shut.
Razor had
a point.  "Roger," he grunted at last, deploying the TurboKat's VTOL engines
and sliding the throttle back to the point that the thrusters were nearly
closed, banked but ready.

        The slim kat in the rear of the jet checked his glovatrix for an
instant
and then reached a hand up to switch his visor from anti-glare to night
vision mode.  As his eyes adjusted to the visor's green images, he snatched
up the end of the cable, its other end now secured to the base of his seat.
In seconds, Razor had secured the cable to the belt part of his suit's
harness.  Prepared, he gauged the distance to the other jet.

        "I'll be back in a few minutes, bud," Razor assured his partner,
trying to
mimic the big tabby's cocky assurance.  Then, he was gone, leaping from the
jet into a few instants' freefall.

        T-Bone sighed deeply as he watched the suddenly diminutive figure
touch
down on the captured craft beneath their own.   There were few things in the
world he would trade for the thrill of controlling the awesome power of a
fighter jet.  One of them would be to take his partner's place and face the
risks the slim kat met so often while he kept the mighty jet aloft.

        Razor quickly found footing on the flatter area just behind the
cockpit,
pausing only long enough to assure himself of his balance.  He noted that
their pursuer had shut down his engines.  Whether that was a sign of defeat
or a very, very bad sign Razor was uncertain.  Quickly, knowing he had no
idea what he would find within even as he did so, he reached around the side
of the cockpit to find the release latch for the canopy.  In one swift
motion he had tripped the release.  The canopy shot up, opening the cockpit
to the damp night air.

        With lightning swiftness, the nimble SWAT Kat fearlessly leapt into
the
cockpit, working around the canopy and aiming for the pilot's seat.  His aim
was true.  The solid, yet yielding, mass he met could only be a living
creature.  One that was now struggling wildly at the unexpected onslaught.

        Razor focused on his "prey."  There was precious little room for a
fight
here, especially with his derriere almost hanging out of the jet.  The
thought was barely through his mind when Razor aimed a glovatrix-shielded
fist at where he assumed the other kat's face should be.

        This time, his aim was off.  There was a grunt of pain from his
opponent
and then a fist was slammed into the orange-furred kat's sensitive nose.

        Razor's head snapped back with the blow as his center of gravity
leaned
dangerously toward the open air at his back.

        "You SWAT Kats think you're so great!" a rough voice snarled as
Razor felt
a massive hand grasp his windpipe, pinning him to the side of the cockpit
and forcing him over backward, out of the jet.  "But, I showed you tonight,
didn't I?  Put your fancy jet in a run for its money, didn't I?"

        Razor's response came not from his mouth, but his feet.  He brought
both up
and into his attacker's face, now dimly visible.  The thrust flung the other
as far back against the far side of the tiny cockpit as his harness would
allow even as it sent Razor tumbling out of the jet and into the nothingness
beyond.

        The SWAT Kat hurtled into the void of blackness beneath the two
jets, a
mile above the valley floor below.  Before the germ of fear could even
blossom in his mind, he was pulled up short by a sharp jerk that tugged hard
on his harness.  Razor let himself just hang in the cable's grip for a few
seconds, collecting his thoughts.  His body registered discomfort where his
harness, fighting against gravity's pull on his body, was starting to dig
into his flesh.  Then, the agile kat twisted violently,  finding the cable
attached just above his tail and grasping it tightly.

        He had just started to pull himself upward when he heard the first
shot.
Razor froze, ears twisting in the confines of his helmet as he sought the
shot's direction.  A second shot split the night.  Razor grimaced, noting
the lack of a laser's glow.  For all his jet and presumed bomb might be
state of the art, the attacker was clearly using an old-fashioned slug
thrower.  Razor gasped soundlessly as a second thought tailed the heels of
the first.  And, as there was no sound of whistling bullets in *his*
direction,... the psychopath was shooting at the TurboKat!  Aiming to find
the fuel tanks!

        With renewed strength, the SWAT Kat hauled himself upward, praying
his
efforts to shield the fuel tanks and lines when the TurboKat was designed
would pay off .  Thankfully, the other kat hadn't noticed his cable.

        T-Bone meanwhile, was debating his options.  The first shot had sent
his
heart to his knees.  Razor didn't carry a gun; for that matter, neither did
he.  And, nothing else quite made that distinct sound.   Praying his partner
was okay, he checked the fuel gauge for the millionth time.  It was dropping
rapidly.  The TurboKat's engines roaring with the effort to support two
jets, he never realized the shots' true direction.  All he knew was that,
gunshots aside, Razor was running out of time even as the TurboKat ran out
of fuel.

        Pulling himself hand over hand up the cable, Razor at last found
himself
inches beneath the pursuer's jet as two more shots became audible through
the sounds of the two jets.  He reached a hand up to haul himself the last
few feet and froze, debating his options.  At length, a plan began to creep
into his thought.  Cautiously, the SWAT Kat reached out to search for a hand
hold on the jet.  Feeling only slick metal, he hefted himself upward a few
more inches and found the first rung of the access ladder.

        Slowly, Razor began to climb the access stairs, body pressed close
to the
jet.  Subconsciously, his claws slid out and gripped the metal as he stopped
to listen.  Another shot.  This time there was something more.  A sharp
crackle of electric energy, so loud it was audible over the TurboKat's
roaring VTOL engines, tore through the night.  Razor's eyes widened at the
implications of that deadly sound.

        Above, warning lights and alarms ripped mercilessly across T-Bone's
already-barraged senses.

        "What in th'....?!"  T-Bone snarled, searching his instruments.
"Power
loss...?"  Then, it hit him.  The shots he'd heard.  "Crud!"  T-Bone slammed
a single huge fist into a bare space he'd long ago selected just for the
purpose along the side of the cockpit.

        "Grappling magnet power failure" flashed into being abruptly, the
words
blinking an angry crimson.

        "Crud!" T-Bone gasped, the word more horror than epithet now.  Large
fingers flying and fumbling across the tiny keys of his controls, the brawny
tom desperately tried to divert more power to the grappler, even if it cost
him his guidance and weapons systems.

        "Grappling magnet power failure" gained a new friend on the main
systems
screen.  "Power failure eminent."

        T-Bone was beyond words now.  A guttural snarl escaped his lips as
he keyed
the command for the auxiliary power.

        "Don't you dare let me down now, girl," he growled to the jet.  A
sickening
jolt from below answered him.  The electromagnetic grappler was losing
power.  And, any minute it would send the other jet plummeting to the valley
below.

        The lights of T-Bone's instruments flickered intermittently, seeking
power
that wasn't there.

        "Don't let this happen, don't let this happen," T-Bone hissed
through his
teeth.  It was no eloquent prayer, but it was heartfelt.

        Abruptly, the "power failure imminent" notice vanished and the
instrument
lights stabilized, fainter than their full power versions, but steady.

        "YEEEEESSSS!" T-Bone shrieked.  Then, he stopped.  "No," he mouthed.

        "Grappling magnet power failure."

        The figure in the other cockpit chuckled maliciously as he aimed his
gun at
the TurboKat anew.  He never saw the figure that appeared even with him,
hovering in space, until it was too late.

        Somehow flinging his body forward without the aid of any impetus
beyond
pushing against dead air, Razor swung himself into the other kat.  The
pursuer's gun vanished into the darkness below as the orange-furred kat's
kick sent it spinning into the oblivion.  With the other kat momentarily
stunned, Razor released the cable and let himself fall onto his opponent.
The two met in an ugly tangle in the cockpit.  But, not such a confusing one
that the SWAT Kat couldn't find his enemy's face this time.

        "That's enough," Razor hissed, shoving the triple barrel of his
glovatrix
into the other tom's throat.

        "Yes," chortled his prisoner.  "It is.  Enough that I beat you.  We
can all
die together now."

        "What?!" Razor demanded.

        A new electric sizzle sent his eyes to the grappler magnet.  It's
trunk was
enveloped in sparks.  Realization dawned on the slim kat's face.

        "You cut the power to the magnet?  We'll drop like a...!" Razor
started.

        And then,... the sparks were gone.

        T-Bone's breath caught as the other jet suddenly dropped away.
There was a
final tug on the TurboKat as the magnet gripped the other craft in one final
spastic pull before its power was gone.  Then, the pursuer's jet was gone,
vanishing into the abyss below without a sound.  T-Bone waited for an
explosion, for anything.  The explosion came at last, not a nuclear blast,
merely the sound any craft might make when meeting its fate so abruptly.
So, there was no nuclear bomb, only a hoax.  It didn't matter now.

        The SWAT Kat pilot bowed his head in to his chest and sat for
several long
minutes.  It was more than sweat that rolled through the fur of his face
now, but the tears came in utter silence.  His shoulders did not shake, not
a sob escaped his lips.  Grief would come in time... when desolation had run
its course.

        Seconds slid into eternity as T-Bone dealt with the loss of his
partner,
the closest he had ever had to a brother.  The needle of the TurboKat's fuel
gauge dipped lower, but such trivialities held little concern for the big
SWAT Kat now.

        At length, something knifed through his numbed senses.  Light.  The
sable
field beyond the cockpit had grown gray-pink.

        Mopping away the sloppy wetness, T-Bone reached for the jet's
controls
mechanically.  Then, he froze as sound reached his ears.  An irregular
creaking moan was emanating from behind him.

        Slowly, uncertainly, T-Bone fingered the clasp that released his
harness
and twisted in his seat.  A cable trailed from where Razor's seat sat slid
back into a recess at the rear of the cockpit and out the opening in the
floor where the slim kat had exited.  The cable was taut and creaking as
though under great stress.

        T-Bone's mouth moved in silence for several seconds before he
finally
stumbled over the words, "Glad one of us isn't a moron......"

        The thought hung in the air before, at last, the ability to move
returned
to the great tabby.  Raising the canopy, he clambered half out of the
cockpit and back into the rear, to grab the cable and haul it up.  Whatever
was on its end was surprisingly heavy.

        "He didn't......," T-Bone mouthed, looking below.  He could make out
a
large dark blob in the haze below.  It was only minutes later that he found
the two figures in the blob.  The blue-clad figure was clinging tightly to
the cable, the other figure locked in a death grip under his arm.

        Hurriedly, T-Bone strained with all his might to heave both kats
into the
safety of the TurboKat.  For some minutes, his sole focus was in pulling
Razor to safety.  Pull, pause, pull, pause.  He quickly developed a rhythm.
Lost in it, the big SWAT Kat was caught off-guard as Razor's searching hand
suddenly shot through the opening.  Securing the cable in one hand, T-Bone
lunged to grasp his friend's arm with the other.  Grabbing Razor just beyond
the wrist, he paused to look into his partner's face, green eyes penetrating
the mask to find the other kat's amber eyes.  His earlier fears must have
still been written on his face as he felt Razor give his arm a quick
squeeze. And, those eyes....  Was that laughter he saw?

        "Thanks, bud," Razor grunted, breaking the moment as he hefted their
pursuer's unconscious and dead weight into the narrow area beyond the
opening before following himself.  He paused, awkwardly standing over the
inert figure of the pursuer and teetering just inches from the hole that
dropped away into the fog-shrouded vacuum below.  Then, he looked at T-Bone.

        "Told ya' I'd be back in a few minutes," he commented, the smile on
his
face growing impish.

        His burly partner made no reply beyond cuffing him playfully across
the
face.

        "Sure, sure.  Stow the nut in the cargo bay and let's get outta here
before
we run outta fuel," he returned, his tone gruff, the green eyes behind his
mask dancing in step to his partner's infectious good humor.

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 4
   Date: Tue, 16 Nov 1999 20:01:40 -0500
   From: "Norma Widener" <Riochet@email.msn.com>
Subject: Re: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(1/2).(PG)

Is this fan fic just with T-Bone and Razor and original characters or made
up ones as well?

Felicia

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 5
   Date: Tue, 16 Nov 1999 17:59:41 PST
   From: "Kristen Sharpe" <skgirl@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(1/2).(PG)

>Is this fan fic just with T-Bone and Razor and original characters or made
>up ones as well?<

It's just T-Bone, Razor, the TurboKat, and a nameless villain ;)

Kris

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 28
Date: 19 Nov 1999 11:16:02 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

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------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAQ/ Rules:
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------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are 4 messages in this issue.

Topics in today's digest:

      1. Re: New Story: Going Home (1/1)
           From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
      2. Re: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(2/2).(PG)
           From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
      3. MSKAC
           From: "MSKAC Announcements" <mskac2@hotmail.com>
      4. I need help
           From: "David Noble" <dnoble49@hotmail.com>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Thu, 18 Nov 1999 09:53:12 EST
   From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
Subject: Re: New Story: Going Home (1/1)

Sorry I haven't responded to anything lately but I had to go away for a
while.

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 2
   Date: Thu, 18 Nov 1999 10:18:21 EST
   From: LadySilverMage@aol.com
Subject: Re: (NEW).(SilentPursuit).(2/2).(PG)

Wow that was awesome!! I thought razor was dead. I don't like when people
kill either of them off. that was so well written! Thanks for sharing it!

                        Silver

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 3
   Date: Thu, 18 Nov 1999 14:14:08 PST
   From: "MSKAC Announcements" <mskac2@hotmail.com>
Subject: MSKAC

[For the artists who already got an e-mail from the MSKAC today, this is
almost the same message. Sorry that you got it twice.]

-----

Hola group. If you're not interested in the MSKAC, you may go ahead and
delete this message now.

For those of you still with us...

The MSKAC is going to *try* (and I do mean *TRY*) to update for
September-October-November's MSKAC. This means that if you have the time in
the next few days to send us a submission, then please do so as we're short
this month (the reason we haven't updated before this).

However, those who have already sent us something... please hang on. It
seems Hotmail has taken it upon themselves to delete most of the entries we
already did recieve. We still have Crow's and Whyte-Kat's, but everyone
elses' was deleted. If you would, please re-send them.

Should we not recieve enough submissions (a total of at least four! Which
means two more either re-sent or sent for the first time), this topic will
be abandoned and Strike and I (Klawz) will put the submissions we have into
the "Late Entries" folder with a note saying that not enough people
participated in it. Then we will create a Holiday-themed topic for you to
work on.

It's up to you guys to save this topic. Or not to.

~Klawz
MSKAC Staff
mskac@hotmail.com
http://www.fortunecity.com/westwood/dolce/164

PS:  Just a reminder. We do _NOT_ want you to send us the file. We want you
to send us the URL (http://...) of where we can find this image on the web.
If you do not have webspace, remember that Strike is HAPPY to donate hers.
Keep this in mind every time you send us something. Thanks.

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 4
   Date: Fri, 19 Nov 1999 01:27:20 PST
   From: "David Noble" <dnoble49@hotmail.com>
Subject: I need help

Hey katfans,

I'm writing about Chance and Jake's enforcer days. During their first
battle, three hoods are working for Dark Kat. The enforcers inside are
looking for a bomb. Some of the aerial enforcers have landed along with
Chance and Jake. They have reached the room where the bomb is located. I
really could use some help on what they do from here. Any suggestions would
be appreaciated. Thank you.

David

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 29
Date: 23 Nov 1999 11:15:40 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

--------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ----------------------------

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sells the cool stuff you want. Shop now and get your FIRST ORDER FREE!!
 <a href=" http://clickme.onelist.com/ad/npo7 ">Click Here</a>

------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAQ/ Rules:
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is 1 message in this issue.

 Topics in today's digest:

      1. FIC: War's Survivors #01
           From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Mon, 22 Nov 1999 20:37:30 -0800
   From: Jerok Furlson <razor@peak.org>
Subject: FIC: War's Survivors #01

Title:   Calling Requests
Series:  War's Survivors (#1) (this series follows War Letters, which
         numbered 4 stories total)
Author:  Jerok Furlson
Email:   Razor@peak.org
Parings: Johnny/ Rath (M/M)
         Jake/ Varis (M/H)
Rating:  PG
Archive: Yes

Feedback: Much requested; from, 'loved it' to in depth crits are all
appreciated.

Summary: The war is over, the heroes come home and try to piece their
lives back together.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"You got anywhere to go?"  William lay his paw lightly on Rath's bicep
after they dropped their gear off to be loaded on the plane to Megakat
City.

"I have a mate," Rath leaned into the warm hand a little.  "He did
four years."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."  William squeezed the arm
he gripped.  "Do you have anywhere to *go*?  To detox.  I know your
Johnny never saw a KCamp.  And your kits really shouldn't see this."

"I know."  Rath shifted to meet William's gray eyes.  "You have
somewhere?"

"Jake, the local Jurn I was telling you about, he's got a place here.
It's where I'm going, and you'll be welcome, you know that."

"That ... would be a mercy."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Jake and Chance's Authoshop, Jake speaking."  He answered the phone
shortly after opening with an eye on the road for his young protégé.

"Greetings Jurn.  It's Silverclaw."  His silky voice was shaking a
little.

"Greetings Jurn."  Jake leaned against the wall for a little support
he suspected he'd need.  "What brings you to town?"

"End of a war, lot of bullshit, a friend, and needed a major break
with somekat who had a clue.  Will you pick us up at MKI, eighteen
hundred, gate 39?  Military timing."

Jake quickly scribbled the information down on the pad that always
hung by the phone, though he didn't need to.  "I'll be there, and
Camp'll be ready."

"Thanks, love."

"Always for kinkat."  Jake let the line go dead, tapped the cradle and
dialed the Megakat City Central District Attorney's office.  "Varis
Silvertail please, Jake Clawson calling."

"One moment sir."  The professionally friendly shekat on the other end
stated as sleep-inducing music drifted over the line.

The music clicked off, replaced by his bondmate of eight years.
"Morning love, what's up?"

"An old friend of mine's coming into town for a while and needs detox
time with me."  Jake took a breath, "I'm sorry, I'm not going to make
dinner or bed tonight, or probably for the rest of the week."

"You're 'friend' isn't trying to kill you or anything?"  Varis sounded
instantly more intense.

"No, no," Jake shook his head even with no one to see it.  "It's
nothing like that.  He really *is* an old friend, coming back from
that mess in Baevertyn.  A kat a knew back in my wondering days."

"Take whatever time you need, and whatever you both need.  But I want
to meet this guy before he leaves, deal?  Pizza, sushi and beer."

"Deal, Var."  Jake smiled to himself.  "You're almost too good to me."

"Just remember this next time I get caught up in a trial of one of the
psychos you catch," Varis chuckled softly as Jake saw Sandra ride up
on her bicycle.  "Understanding comes with the territory."

"Thanks Var," Jake purred.  "I've got a lot to do in the next few
hours."

"Okay, love.  Talk later."

"Talk later, love."  Jake sighed, dropped the phone on it's cradle
and turned to greet the girl that he hoped would grown into a Jurn,
and his successor.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Halt."  A lanky brown and cream piebald tomkat in pressed camies
demanded crisply as Jake approached Gate 39 early that evening.
"Name."

"Jake Clawson."

"Who are you here for?"  The Lance Corporal requested as he scanned a
small booklet.

"William Sureclaw and his friend."

"Security clearance?"

"Enough to give you a headache."  Jake finally leaned against the
pedestal desk and gave his best predatory 'yes I *do* outrank you'
smile.

The young tom looked up, blinked and waved him into the small, well
guarded and otherwise empty room, "you're cleared."

"Thanks," Jake did a quick visual sweep, counting guards, weapons,
distances and windows as he waited for the small jet to finish taxiing
in.  He noted with some amusement that they seemed to have as much
trouble little Sandra did at first, reconciling his shoulderblande
length black and cinnamon ponytail and perfect At Ease stance.
Nothing like multiple careers to confuse people looking for simple
answers.  And nothing like staring to dye your hair and grow it out to
confuse your partner, either.  Jake had to smile at the memory of
Chance's expression when he'd come downstairs with the two thick
stripes of black running from the base of each ear to the end of his
then collar length hair.  But what it did to Varis ...

"Jake!" the rather frazzled voice of William Sureclaw pulled him out
of his reverie.

"Welcome to Megakat City," Jake managed the half bow of the welcome
before William needed help supporting the heavily built dark brown and
black sealpoint tomkat with him, and himself.  "Who's our friend?"

William tugged them towards the pile of bags at the far end of the
room before answering.  "Rath Cazar, Jake Clawson."

The two toms blinked almost in unison and started at each other hard
for a long moment.  "Marico, 83?" was asked in near-unison, earning a
chuckle from both.

"You've changed, a lot."  Rath regarded Jake evenly as William pulled
the last of their bags out.

"You know each other?"  William interrupted and started handing out
luggage, giving Rath the lightest load.

Jake smiled and waited until they were fairly alone in the parking lot
before answering.  "We met, mated, played, and went on our way."

"Hell of a three months though," Rath sighed happily at the memories.

"That it was," Jake couldn't stop the fond smile from surfacing as
William worked his magic with storing the luggage.  "That it was."

"Tell me, are you the same Jake who's taken such an interest in my
daughter, Sandra?"  Rath settled in for the three hour drive.

Jake chuckled from the driver's seat.  "She took an interest in me
first, but that girl's got too potential to ignore.  I still don't
believe I didn't make the connection between Daddy Rath and you.  It's
not exactly a common name."

"Well, I can't believe we lived in the same town for years and didn't
find each other."

Jake sobered quickly, "I haven't been active since I joined the
Enforces, settled down."

"I didn't think you could leave ..."  Rath trailed off, watching Jake
carefully.

"I stopped intentionally wondering, not fighting or building."  He
shrugged.  "I stay put for the same reason you did and why Wil is
here, this city is calling us to defend her.  And she is more in need
than the others."

"You really believe in that?"  William prompted from the back seat.

"And you do too, or you wouldn't claim me as Kin."  Jake managed to
glance back between traffic lights.  "This one really rattled you."

William looked down, "yah, it has.  I'm thinking of staying, maybe
hooking up with one of the local stations."  He shook his head, "I
just can't do this any more.  Can we chill on this until we get
there?"

"Sure thing, love."

--
End: Calling Requests ... 1/1
by Jerok Furlson
Razor@peak.org
*****************************************************************

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Subject: [SWATKats_FanFic] Digest Number 30
Date: 30 Nov 1999 11:49:59 -0000
From: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com
To: SWATKats_FanFic@onelist.com

--------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ----------------------------

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------------------------------------------------------------------------
FAQ/ Rules:
http://www.gatekat.net/SWATKats/Annels/Nexus.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are 2 messages in this issue.

Topics in today's digest:

      1. fan fic
           From: "Norma Widener" <Riochet@email.msn.com>
      2. Re: fan fic
           From: "David Noble" <dnoble49@hotmail.com>

_______________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________________

Message: 1
   Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 19:49:13 -0500
   From: "Norma Widener" <Riochet@email.msn.com>
Subject: fan fic

Here's a new one from me. Only part 1 though.

Felicia

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M86YD('-E="!T:&4@5'5R8F]+870G<R!C;W5R<V4@=&\@1F5S="X-"BHJ*BHJ
M*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ
M*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*BHJ*@T*5&\@8F4@8V]N=&EN=65D+BXN#0H-"@T*
0#0H-"@T*#0H-"@T*#0H-"@``
`
end

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Message: 2
   Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 22:48:29 PST
   From: "David Noble" <dnoble49@hotmail.com>
Subject: Re: fan fic

Hello Felicia,

All I saw on your story was a great long paragraph of gava and disordered
words. Could you try to resend the story please.

SK David

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