Fanfic Post - Aliases (SK)
Sep. 14th, 2025 11:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristenskWow, it's been a while! But, it's that time of year again - SWAT Kats' annual anniversary. So, here's another entry for my "Becoming the SWAT Kats" series. This follows: Discovery, Exploration, Armored, Uplifting, Delivery, Fueling Up, and Disguising.
Title: Aliases
Author: Kristen Sharpe
Date: September 14, 2025
Rating: G
Disclaimer: SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron, its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.
----------------------------
“C’mon, old girl,” Chance urged the ancient crane as its motor skipped and sputtered.
In their first week at the salvage yard, he and Jake had spent two days and gallons of oil getting the relic back into service. That work was paying off now as the motor smoothed out, and he lowered the boom to carefully grasp a battered refrigerator with the claw on the end.
They’d been moving scrap metal for hours. Officially, he and Jake were cleaning up the salvage yard. Which it desperately needed. It might be a scrapyard, but there was actual, rotting garbage hiding in some of the piles of scrap metal. Of course, unofficially, they were trying to uncover the old launch tunnel attached to the underground hangar. Jake had taken measurements of the tunnel before leading them outside to pace out the distance aboveground. Well, as best he could with mountains of scrap in the way. Mountains they were slowly clearing while sorting through the mess.
It was also a good way to search for useful parts. Jake had collected quite a pile of things he thought they could use for their garage business. They’d weigh it later and make sure it was all documented and paid for. They wanted everything for the garage to be on the up and up. Jake’s second pile of less mundane scrap… well, they’d just have to pay the city back another way for that.
Carefully, Chance lifted the rusting refrigerator up and swung it around into place on the appliance stack they were creating. When he began to turn the crane back toward the small clearing, he saw Jake frantically waving his arms, a wide grin on his face.
Finally!
Chance shut the crane down with one last, shuddering hiccup and hopped out. “You find it?”
“Yep.” Jake was already crouched with the fingers of his right hand digging out a wide, straight groove in the dirt.
Chance tugged a couple pieces of rebar free from the nearest pile and passed one to Jake. In a few minutes, they had uncovered most of the outline of a giant square cut into the ground. The rest disappeared under the remaining unsorted scrap.
Jake stood at Chance’s side, turning slowly to take it in. “Not quite ready to test the opening mechanism, but it’s a start,” he said.
Chance pulled off his ballcap to let the faint breeze blow through his sweaty headfur. “Yeah. So, since this thing is looking more possible all the time, I’ve been thinking again…”
“Anything but that.”
Chance aimed a halfhearted punch at Jake that he easily dodged. “Thinking about how to protect our identities if we do this thing.”
“A jet is pretty trackable.” Jake rubbed his chin. “I’ve got some ideas.”
“Okay, that too, and I’ve thought of some flight path ideas to throw anyone off.” They could brainstorm that later. At the moment, Chance’s mind was elsewhere. “But, right now, I was thinking that we’re gonna need new callsigns. We can’t use our old Enforcer ones.”
Jake smirked. “Like you’d want to anyway. Geek.”
“And, you would, Nerd?”
“Hey, the shoe fits.” Jake hadn’t been nearly as embarrassed to be named after his hobbies as Chance had.
“I thought you didn’t want shoes.”
Jake huffed. “Haha.” Then, he grinned. “So, let’s hear it. Since you get to pick your own callsign this time, what is it?”
“T-Bone.”
“…Are you just hungry?”
“Not like the steak!”
“So, like a car wreck?”
Chance punched his right fist into the ballcap in his other hand. “Like the sudden collision with my fist.”
Jake snorted loudly. “Wow.”
“C’mon, it’s not that bad!” Chance insisted. “Besides…,” his shoulders slumped a bit, “if I used any of the really cool names I thought of… someone might figure it out.”
Jake sobered at that. Chance was taking this seriously. He’d gotten his “Geek” nickname when their squadron back in the Enforcers discovered how much he loved his comics. If he used a comic book style name – or anything else that just screamed, “That’s exactly what Furlong would call himself!” – their little vigilante gig would be over before it even started.
“You’re right,” he said. “And, it does fit you.”
“Because I’m a meathead?”
“Yes, but no.” Jake grinned and danced away from another, better aimed, punch. “It just sounds right, y’know?” Then, he went still, thinking. “I’m gonna need a callsign too. Can’t be from a movie or that might give us away, so…”
“Yeah, how were you not the geek?” Chance asked as he tugged the wet ballcap back on to settle over his ears.
“Because Geek 1 and Geek 2 isn’t as much fun,” Jake answered distractedly. “Hmm…” He paced away from Chance, tail twitching in thought. Then, he abruptly spun around, pointing. “Got it. Razor.”
“Because you need a shave?”
“Or for my razor-sharp wit.”
“If you say so.” Then, Chance grinned. “Nah, I like it. Like you said, it just sounds right.”
“So, T-Bone and Razor.” Stepping back to his friend’s side, Jake raised a fist.
Chance met it with his own. “T-Bone and Razor.”
They looked over the scrap stacked neatly to one side and the mess still sprawling over half the launch tunnel opening to the other. There was a literal mountain of work left to do, but they were moving forward. Inch by inch.
Title: Aliases
Author: Kristen Sharpe
Date: September 14, 2025
Rating: G
Disclaimer: SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron, its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.
----------------------------
“C’mon, old girl,” Chance urged the ancient crane as its motor skipped and sputtered.
In their first week at the salvage yard, he and Jake had spent two days and gallons of oil getting the relic back into service. That work was paying off now as the motor smoothed out, and he lowered the boom to carefully grasp a battered refrigerator with the claw on the end.
They’d been moving scrap metal for hours. Officially, he and Jake were cleaning up the salvage yard. Which it desperately needed. It might be a scrapyard, but there was actual, rotting garbage hiding in some of the piles of scrap metal. Of course, unofficially, they were trying to uncover the old launch tunnel attached to the underground hangar. Jake had taken measurements of the tunnel before leading them outside to pace out the distance aboveground. Well, as best he could with mountains of scrap in the way. Mountains they were slowly clearing while sorting through the mess.
It was also a good way to search for useful parts. Jake had collected quite a pile of things he thought they could use for their garage business. They’d weigh it later and make sure it was all documented and paid for. They wanted everything for the garage to be on the up and up. Jake’s second pile of less mundane scrap… well, they’d just have to pay the city back another way for that.
Carefully, Chance lifted the rusting refrigerator up and swung it around into place on the appliance stack they were creating. When he began to turn the crane back toward the small clearing, he saw Jake frantically waving his arms, a wide grin on his face.
Finally!
Chance shut the crane down with one last, shuddering hiccup and hopped out. “You find it?”
“Yep.” Jake was already crouched with the fingers of his right hand digging out a wide, straight groove in the dirt.
Chance tugged a couple pieces of rebar free from the nearest pile and passed one to Jake. In a few minutes, they had uncovered most of the outline of a giant square cut into the ground. The rest disappeared under the remaining unsorted scrap.
Jake stood at Chance’s side, turning slowly to take it in. “Not quite ready to test the opening mechanism, but it’s a start,” he said.
Chance pulled off his ballcap to let the faint breeze blow through his sweaty headfur. “Yeah. So, since this thing is looking more possible all the time, I’ve been thinking again…”
“Anything but that.”
Chance aimed a halfhearted punch at Jake that he easily dodged. “Thinking about how to protect our identities if we do this thing.”
“A jet is pretty trackable.” Jake rubbed his chin. “I’ve got some ideas.”
“Okay, that too, and I’ve thought of some flight path ideas to throw anyone off.” They could brainstorm that later. At the moment, Chance’s mind was elsewhere. “But, right now, I was thinking that we’re gonna need new callsigns. We can’t use our old Enforcer ones.”
Jake smirked. “Like you’d want to anyway. Geek.”
“And, you would, Nerd?”
“Hey, the shoe fits.” Jake hadn’t been nearly as embarrassed to be named after his hobbies as Chance had.
“I thought you didn’t want shoes.”
Jake huffed. “Haha.” Then, he grinned. “So, let’s hear it. Since you get to pick your own callsign this time, what is it?”
“T-Bone.”
“…Are you just hungry?”
“Not like the steak!”
“So, like a car wreck?”
Chance punched his right fist into the ballcap in his other hand. “Like the sudden collision with my fist.”
Jake snorted loudly. “Wow.”
“C’mon, it’s not that bad!” Chance insisted. “Besides…,” his shoulders slumped a bit, “if I used any of the really cool names I thought of… someone might figure it out.”
Jake sobered at that. Chance was taking this seriously. He’d gotten his “Geek” nickname when their squadron back in the Enforcers discovered how much he loved his comics. If he used a comic book style name – or anything else that just screamed, “That’s exactly what Furlong would call himself!” – their little vigilante gig would be over before it even started.
“You’re right,” he said. “And, it does fit you.”
“Because I’m a meathead?”
“Yes, but no.” Jake grinned and danced away from another, better aimed, punch. “It just sounds right, y’know?” Then, he went still, thinking. “I’m gonna need a callsign too. Can’t be from a movie or that might give us away, so…”
“Yeah, how were you not the geek?” Chance asked as he tugged the wet ballcap back on to settle over his ears.
“Because Geek 1 and Geek 2 isn’t as much fun,” Jake answered distractedly. “Hmm…” He paced away from Chance, tail twitching in thought. Then, he abruptly spun around, pointing. “Got it. Razor.”
“Because you need a shave?”
“Or for my razor-sharp wit.”
“If you say so.” Then, Chance grinned. “Nah, I like it. Like you said, it just sounds right.”
“So, T-Bone and Razor.” Stepping back to his friend’s side, Jake raised a fist.
Chance met it with his own. “T-Bone and Razor.”
They looked over the scrap stacked neatly to one side and the mess still sprawling over half the launch tunnel opening to the other. There was a literal mountain of work left to do, but they were moving forward. Inch by inch.
