'Author note': This chapter isn't that 'exciting', but I wanted to get it out, to show I'm stilling working on this, the next chapter I'm hoping will be longer and done quicker. Thank you so much to all who reviewed the first chapter! Means a lot you'd take the time to leave one. I do love the R&Rers, keeps me motivated. Again sorry if there are any mistakes, I tried to find and fix them but, eh, I miss a lot.

Please note: I replace the word 'hand' with 'paws', and anything italic without an apostrophe at that start; is a memory, anything italic with an apostrophe at the start; is a thought.

Disclaimer: I don't own the SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron or any characters unless it's an OC of mine all characters © to Hanna-Barbera Productions and Turner Program Services. One OC of mine has entered this chapter, but will not be a 'core' part, I rather focus on the main characters of the fan-fic I'm writing for.


The laughing, it was all the slim SWAT Kat could hear before the darkness took over, no matter how hard he tried to stay awake, he just couldn't seem to keep his eyes open.


The burly tom watched from the downed TurboKat, as his partner rode off on the Cyclotron, he sat in a crouched position, in the pilot seat.

The burly SWAT Kat heard footsteps, they began to sound close, then suddenly as the Cyclotron revved in the distance, he could hear the footsteps take chase, going the same direction as the Cyclotron.

The tabby waited a few moments before he finally stood, he didn't have a plan from here, he seen the inside of the bomb-bay, no way was there any spare parts to fix his Glovatrix, he had one choice, he didn't like it, but it was the only option right now; go back to the hanger and repair his Glovatrix.

With a frustrated sigh, the tabby began to try and quickly bandage his shoulder.

He ruffled around in the cockpit, now back to crouching, to reach the floor, where his seat once occupied the space, little miracle, the med-kit was still there, a little white box with a red cross on it.

Opening the box he removed a bandage, he placed one end of the bandage under his right arm, in the pit, wincing as he pressed his arm down on the bandage, keeping it in place, as he began to wrap it around his shoulder, grimacing a few times as some movements spiked pain.

Finally, he finished, the wound felt like it had it's own pules, throbbing as the bandage applied the appropriate pressure.

The tabby's ears twitched as he heard in the distance a faint explosion sound, his head jolted in the direction the sound came from, it was the same direction his partner rode off in, was that? No, no, hold it together. T-Bone mentally tried to keep his thoughts calm and going to the worse case.

He hopped out from the TurboKat, it hurt the tabby to leave their faithful jet, but he had to see, had to make his way towards the sound.

Smoke, he could see smoke now, from pacing himself, he ran into a sprint. "Razor, that better not be you." He spoke out loud to no one, it helped settle his mind slightly.

Ten minutes, it felt like he'd be running for ten minutes, had it really been that long? His legs felt like it had been that long or even longer, he was fit, but right now, he didn't feel it at all.

Finally, he came to what from first view looked like a construction site, large machines designed for logging large amounts of cement. The site looked abandoned, the machines sat alone, idle, large pipes laid around the site, some areas had traffic cones 'cording' them off, them areas were holes, some had pipes occupying them, other's didn't, the ones that didn't, had their pipes beside the hole, looking as if they were ready to be placed in.

One pipe, a fairly large one, had the smoke billowing out of it.

T-Bone had slowed to just taking slow steps, his breath ragged as he'd been running as fast as he could to get there, he took a few deep breathes before he looked into the pipe.

Instantly the tabby stepped back, coughing, that smoke was thick, it took the burly SWAT Kat by surprise, due to taking deep breaths, he'd inhaled more of that smoke than he'd like to have.

Finally, he took a deep breath of fresh air, before going into the pipe, it was insane, the pipe looked more like a tunnel on the inside, perhaps that's what it was going to be? Nah, surely not, only bikes could get in this, not larger enough for a vehicle with four wheels.

The tabby squinted his eyes, as they tried to adjust to the light, that's when he felt as if his heart was going to stop, red and blue metal, it was the Cyclotron.

His first instinct was to rush the fallen bike and search for his partner, but common sense kicked in and told the tabby that wasn't at all a good idea.

Instead, he looked around the burning bike, frantically, looking for a sign of his partner.

There it was, a trail of blood, how did he miss that? The blood led back to the way the tabby came, he stepped out of the pipe, eyes darting left and right desperately looking for more of the trail, none.

What did that mean? Did Razor fix himself up better, enough to not be 'leaking' blood? Or did the ones who were after him get him? So many questions ran through his mind.

He caught sight of his broken Glovatrix, that's it! That's how he'd find his partner, he just had to make it back to the Hanger.


Laughing, the manic crazy laugh, it was ringing in the slimmer SWAT Kat's ears, it frustrated him, he wanted to punch the stupid laugh out of the manic Hyena-kat.

He groaned as the laughter kept on going on and on, until he was abruptly knocked out of his kind of trance, by tapping on his helmet, tap, tap, tap.

"Hello?" Came an unfamiliar voice, a male voice.

Razor lifted his head, he blinked a few times slowly, his mind groggy still. "Huh?" he muttered, vision blurry, his body numb.

"Oh good, you're alive." The voice spoke again, in a tone that seemed friendly to the smaller SWAT Kat.

"Wh-.." His voice trailed on. "What's happening?" He asked, his voice weak, sounding tired.

"Nothing good." The voice responded with a sigh.

Squinting Razor finally felt his senses coming back, he felt cold, more so on his wrists, glancing down, he noticed both were chained, his eyes followed the chain, they lead to a wall, he was shackled to a wall, both wrists and his left ankle.

Again, he woke up laying on the ground, carefully he lifted himself into a sitting position, keeping his left leg still. "Where are we?" He asked, finally looking at his surroundings.

He was surrounded by stone, rock all around, he came to the conclusion he was in some kind of cave, maybe. It didn't echo nor did there seem to be anything but himself and this stranger in this place, looking at the stranger, he noticed he too was chained to the wall, only he was bound by one shackle, in his right wrist.

There was a light source, Razor couldn't tell where it was coming from, in the distance, the cave was huge, but not pitch-black.

Finally Razor examined the other tom-kat with him, he looked a little worse for wear, his clothes were torn, his fur blood covered, from what Razor could tell, this tom was two shades of brown, a dark brown, with some almost mud like coloured stripes on his face, his face, his eye, he was missing an eye and one of his ears, right eye and right ear.

The male shrugged, in response to Razor's question, he had no answer for the slim SWAT Kat. "Afraid I can't help there." He spoke as he sat down to the right of Razor.

He leaned against the wall also, leaning his head back, looking at the roof of the cave, he turned his head slightly to look at Razor. "Name's Ivan, what one are you?" He question, looking Razor up and down once.

Razor didn't really understand the question, not right away. "Razor." He responded, realising he meant 'what SWAT Kat are you?' If it wasn't for the current situation, Razor would have found the question amusing.

"Do you have any information about this place? Why are we here?" He asked, looking at Ivan, desperate for some kind of answer, anything really.

Ivan leaned his head back up to look at the roof. "Simply put, a form of Hell." He answered, adding. "Well, in short, we've been lucky enough to be imprisoned by a sicko that takes the joy in making us their little puppet." He took a breath. "In underground fighting." After those words he fell silent, letting Razor take in what he'd just let the slim SWAT Kat know.