Chance Furlong. Age twenty seven, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds of sheer muscle. The type of typical kat that one would encounter in everyday life, Chance worked at a salvage yard- taking care of the business end of things as far as engines went. He liked to think he was an expert on them, and as of yet he had not been proven wrong. Every part of any engine ever made in any car, he knew inside and out. It had turned the drowning scrap yard and garage into a decent business, and had gotten the place listed on the MegaKat City Auto Club's "ten most reliable" list.

That said, right now he wished the place would hurry up and die already.

Truth be told, he wasn't in the mood to work at the moment, and with what meager salary he had now being drained towards the repair of Enforcer Headquarters, it wasn't too glamorous of a job. Not to mention his two "best friends" came around often with all new junk; junk that they had practically dumped on their doorstep just recently.

"Dammit, they'll never learn, will they? Maybe I really DO need to kick their asses… just to see if I can pound some sense into 'em!"

Of course, there was a voice of reason in all this, though that voice definitely agreed with Chance on all accounts in this regard.

"Take it easy, buddy! I keep saying they're not worth it. Besides, if just anyone could do what we did, we'd be bored forever," he said with a laugh. Jake Clawson always did know how to lighten the mood, though he had his share of problems, most of which coincided with Chance's. Three years younger than his bigger partner and about twenty five pounds lighter, he was still well-built. More of an athletic build than that of a moving steel wall; he could still bench press two times his own weight.

"Whatever," Chance said as he dusted off his pants from the dirt that had been kicked up by their irritating arrivals, "They do that shit one more time, and they'll have a set of wooden teeth from chewing on my fist." Looking at the new pile of work with a sigh of resignation, he muttered, "Business is booming… let's get to work."

The reason why he disliked this job was not just because of their bosses, Burke and Murray. They were put here in the first place by their former employer, Ulysses Feral, Commander of the Enforcers. Once upon a time, Chance and Jake were more than just garbage men; they each held the ranks of Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel in the paramilitary Special Weapons and Tactics force, and each was a skilled operative in their own right, with or without a supporting force.

The thing that netted them a one-way ticket to the scrap heap was their own overzealous Commander, who figured it was his right to take their tag. He attempted to blow past and clipped their left wing, knocking their F-16 into a dead spiral. After a sudden explosion at Enforcer Headquarters, Feral looked down to find flames leaping from the building, and his eyes widened in shock. When he turned around again to aim at the terrorist known as Dark Kat in an attempt to blow him out of the sky... his jet was nowhere to be found. When he touched down at Headquarters, Feral was livid beyond belief.

Due to this blunder which was caused by the Commander himself, they were discharged from the Enforcers, and happily complied. Unfortunately, they were also hit with the steep repair bill… a bill that they would pretty much be paying for the rest of their nine lives. And thus, they were here in the MegaKat scrap yard.

However, it was here where they had begun their path to glory, and a reason to keep carrying the burden they had been saddled with.

Speaking of burdens, the alarm in the garage happily chose that time to buzz and complain.

"Yeah," Chance said with a newfound, almost relieved grin, "Business is booming."

Kanto the Slayer presents

A SWAT Kats Fanfiction

SWAT Kats: Endgame

Usually before picking up the phone when it rang like that, Chance wanted to look his best. Fur neatly combed, shower, teeth brushed (he still swore that people could smell his breath through the receiver), the whole nine yards. The reason was soon clear when he put on his deeper, rougher voice and answered, "Yes Miss Briggs?"

The female voice from the other line spoke clearly and concisely, as if the words she said were practiced beforehand. She had that ever-businesslike manner about her, even when she was on the brink of being kidnapped or when the building was falling around her attractive ears. And yet she managed to look so… damned hot in that business suit of hers. Not a day went by that the big kat didn't think about what else she wore besides that, but he always stopped before his mind took too discursive of a path.

She wasn't for him. Of that, he was dead certain.

"We have a situation here at MegaKat Towers. I'm a little tied up right now, so I can't explain, but I need you guys to head towards the penthouse, ASAP!"

Chance's ears perked up immediately. Oh, he knew what that meant.

"We're on our way!"

He hung up and said, "MegaKat Towers is having a bit of a problem- we gotta jet Jake, pronto!"

Clawson laughed as he said, "Damn, that place has to be cursed! It's always covered in some kind of muck, huh?"

With that, they began suiting up. Tactical webbing and pouches lined their flight suits, ensuring that they had the capacity to carry as much ordinance on them as possible for when things got nasty. Of course they didn't have to carry much but their Glovetrixes, but it was just in case. They could use any ordinance, lethal or not, but tended to err on the side of caution and use non-lethal means to fight.

Donning their trademark masks to hide their identities and the blue and red helmets they wore during flight, they beat feet towards the greatest creation one could ever lay eyes on. The black, shining, highly-modified F-14 Tomcat was the most technologically advanced air-to-air fighter in the history of katkind, and it was made entirely from scrap parts.

The bird of doom was known to most, if not all of the city, as the TurboKat.

As the elevator lowered towards the hangar, Jake began a systems check. "So how is Miss Briggs anyways? You get a chance to talk to her yet?"

Chance raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? She comes down here twice a month to get a tune-up. We always get a chance to talk to her, dude!"

Jake smirked and said, "That's not what I meant."

After a long pause, the bigger kat figured out what Jake was talking about, and he was lucky no one could see him blush. "She ain't for me, man… I work at a junk yard. How could someone who works in the Mayor's office be with a guy like that? I'd rather she not know me at all. Besides, I'm not exactly in a position to go ask a girl out, y'know?"

Jake laughed and said, "Yeah, just save them!"

Chance nodded, but without the laugh. "Roger that. Let's kick some ass!"

The engines whined happily to life as the floor of the scrap yard slid backwards… and with a mighty roar, the TurboKat took flight.

They were no longer Chance Furlong and Jake Clawson… they were T-Bone and Razor.

They were the SWAT Kats.

Calico Briggs stood at five foot four and weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds, with cream colored fur and piercing green eyes. Her body was what one would call dynamite- able to knock any sane man off of his feet. Tight and fit in all the right places, and yet it was soft and supple where it counted. She was a highly groomed lady, competent in all things that required her attention, which was how she was able to become the intern for Mayor Manx.

And yet, such a beautiful, single, available woman was… alone. She was alone, and she knew it, though she was constantly being saved by the two men who had her attention almost constantly. They were crude, rough, dangerous men who were also polite, caring, and sensible. Like the antiheroes that walked down the streets of the Wild West, they did things by their own book and they marched to the beat of their own drummer.

They were everything a girl could want; tall, dark, and incredibly handsome.

'And the two guys that I can't get myself involved with, unfortunately.'

Their names, or at least the ones they presented to the world, were T-Bone and Razor, better known to many as the SWAT Kats. Vigilantes and mercenaries with Enforcer tactics and a modified two-seater F-14 that could surpass Mach 5, they were the city's last defense and made the standard Special Forces look like a three-ring circus.

What was it that made them so elusive to her? It was not the flying- many pilots had the weaponry and skills to fly with them, though matching them could be another story altogether. It wasn't the skills either- they used standard Special Weapons and Tactics techniques and tools to get the job done, though they did so in more innovative ways than others trained in the same.

She had concluded early on when she had first met them that it was the masks they wore- that which hid the identities of two men who were better than an entire army. The masks made them tall, dark, and handsome. There certainly were a lot of men out there that were just as tall and handsome, but it was the masks… and they way they spoke and walked and fought that made them dark.

It made her think of other things than just running for office… like running for the nearest hotel room with the two of them and seeing how they did things under the sheets. Such a notion always made her shiver deliciously, even now. But no, she had to remain cool and businesslike, yet grateful and gracious.

'They're just friends and valuable allies. I want to show my appreciation, not have my way with them… or let them have their way with me… or…'

Well that went nowhere, so she cleared her throat and took a sip of her water.

"So then Deputy Mayor, how long have you known the SWAT Kats?"

That drew her attention immediately. A well-dressed woman with brown eyes and hair sat at one of the other seats at the table, a rather curious expression on her face. She looked as if she really wanted to know, and often times she did. Ann Gora, beautiful in her own right, did not always want to be the first to cover a big story, just because it was her job to. She got herself in trouble, sometimes on purpose, because she believed that curiosity did not kill the kat right away- in fact, uncovering information made a kat stronger because of it, and she enjoyed telling everyone else what she knew.

It wasn't any sort of ego or compulsion- it was simply fun to do. She loved, absolutely loved, being a reporter.

And when she looked at you with that questioning expression, one found it difficult not to answer.

"I'd say two years now," Callie said with her same cool, even tone. "I have to say that during the times I had first met them, I did have my doubts about their methods. Everything was constantly in ruins by the time they were finished, though the culprit had been captured. But later, I checked for any signs of injury or death, and found… none. They were performing such acts for the city in a nonviolent manner, or at least non-lethal."

Ann nodded in understanding- she had seen it as well. Unless the enemy was not sentient and had lost their mind to the point of no return, they would not kill.

"Of course, the point when we became friends was when they handed me this," she said as she removed the silent alarm from her purse, the button in the middle constantly flashing red. "Apparently, I was getting into trouble so many times that they decided to give me something to let them know. They said to use it only in a real emergency, and well… this is MegaKat City. When is there not a real emergency?"

They both laughed at this before Ann asked her next question. "So this is the first time in which nothing has happened to the city proper that you have contacted them?"

Ann nodded. "It sounds selfish, doesn't it? But I'm sure that they'll understand once they realize that this too, is for the good of the city… and for their own good as well. I'm trying to get everyone to understand them a bit more, and understand them myself. And of course in order to do that, I've invited you."

Ann smiled and said, "It's an honor, Deputy Mayor. You know, to tell the truth, I've wanted to know more about the SWAT Kats myself. Where are they, anyway?"

That's when they heard it- the unmistakable noise of the three engines that roared over the city in times of dire crisis. You had to give it to them- they had an impeccable sense of timing, even when there was nothing going on.

"Right on time, Ann. They always are."

"Sure as hell looks normal… I expected the situation to be worse, but there's no goop or anything around here."

T-Bone looked down towards the MegaKat Towers and said, "Makes you wonder why Callie called us over here in the first place. But whatever- let's see what she wants. If it's nothing, we're outta here, all right? I don't like being called on a false alarm."

Razor shook his head and said, "I dunno, man… it's never, ever nothing. Besides, we promised to answer any call; no matter how dire it was, as long as it was within reason. Miss Briggs is a reasonable woman, and she wouldn't bring us over here for nothing."

The bigger kat looked behind him and said, "And just how did you deduce that, Sherlock?"

Razor smiled and said, "Because I trust her. Don't you?"

T-Bone was silent. Did he trust her? Could a man in a mask who used an alias trust anyone? He had to think long and hard before answering, and the only thing he could come up with was, "I don't know, partner. I just don't know."

With that, they landed and, for once, took the stairwell entrance. Expecting just about anything, including nothing at all, they made their way down the stairs in hurried fashion, Glovetrixes at the ready. They checked behind every corner for foes that were unseen, hoping to catch at least a bad noise. But so far, there was nothing… which made T-Bone slightly irritated and Razor suspicious.

'What the hell is going on here?'

Of course, they were finally at the entrance to the penthouse, and took positions on either side of the door. T-Bone looked towards Razor and nodded before the slim kat silently open the door a crack, then nudged it open with one of his feet before they both peeked in, Glovetrixes aimed at Calico Briggs and Ann Gora.

"Huh!? I thought there was something going down here. What gives?"

Callie smiled and said, "There's no one here but us. You don't have to go everywhere expecting a battle situation, you know. Now take those things off and come sit down- we were just about to have dinner."

T-Bone wanted to say something mean, give her a retort. Razor headed him off at the pass.

"Free food, huh?" He smiled and said, "I'm game. And I don't see any cameras anywhere… so something is definitely going on, T-Bone."

The larger kat, now expecting no sort of threat (yet ready for one all the same), finally took a good look around. Once it was confirmed, he looked towards the she-kats and said with a forgiving smile, "He's right. You never see Ann Gora without a cameraman. And I sure would like something to eat at the moment, so we'll stay for a bit. But you know, that silent alarm is only supposed to be used for emergencies, Miss Briggs."

She nodded in understanding and said, "Oh, but this is an emergency, and it concerns the two of you."

They looked at each other, puzzled looks on their faces. "…Us? What did we do now?"

Ann laughed merrily and said, "Nothing but a world of good! We just wanted to thank you for all your hard work and get to know you a bit better, that's all. There are no cameras, no lights, no flash bulbs- this is just a talk. The people have a right to know who their saviors are- if not their real names or identities," she said diplomatically, "Then why they do what they do, how they got their training and what motivates them. I'm sure you both won't mind if I record you?"

T-Bone finally understood and nodded in acknowledgment. Ann was not satisfied with the little chat she had with them in the air. This was an interview, a rather in-depth one. Like everything else, it involved some risk, but this one was bigger than anything else. He really had to think about what to say and how to say it- Feral would probably be listening.

'So will Felina. Would she understand?'

"We can't tell you everything. Not yet."

Ann smiled, and it was a smile of victory. Callie just smiled.

"Then tell us what you can. Please, have a seat."

Chapter 1: A Not-So-False Alarm

Oh, yeah. That's what I'm talkin' about! From the creator of LionHearts comes this epic fic of love, hope, bloodshed, and the biggest, baddest dogfights you've ever witnessed on a piece of paper! Note that this is a relatively short chapter- they WILL get longer and more intricate as time goes by. With that note, the Slayer takes his leave.

This should prove once and for all that I will do ANY fic from ANY series, at ANY time. Send me a message!

Ah, and the obligatory disclaimer- all characters, places, vehicles and otherwise are the property of Hanna-Barbera and their associates. If I owned this, you would damn well see a season three.

Hasta la vista, see ya when I see ya.