Razor's Blade 1:
Secrets and Silence Betrayed

by Fur and Fantasy
R for Violence
full contents and notes located at the bottom of the file

MegaKat City, the largest in this world of many races and city-states, is protected by a pair of tomkats given authority by none but their own cunning and bravery. Some call them vigilantes, some heroes, some enemy, some friend. But everyone knows them as the SWAT Kats: T-Bone, pilot without equal and Razor, sure-shot and equipment genius.

But not every hero goes down in defense of their beliefs. Some are brought down by themselves and bad luck.

"I'm so confused." Razor hugged his knees to his chest and rocked slightly on the open, grassy hill. His dark blue helmet and Glovatrix gauntlet sat forgotten at his side. "Why do I feel this way?" He shuddered and looked to the open, spring sky, only slightly smudged by the recent battle. "Is this love?"

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Commander Ulysses Feral's cold voice was tainted with honest surprise as he leveled his blaster on the lean, cinnamon tom. "Don't move or I'll shoot you now."

"Huh?" Razor's head shot up, amber eyes widening behind his black bandanna-mask, as his brain kicked back into combat gear and pushed all other concerns to the side.

"I didn't really expect a SWAT Kat foolish enough to stay in one place too long. Stand up, slowly." The giant brown tomkat sneered as Razor slowly uncurled, their eyes never parting as they gauged each other and the odds. "And keep your hands where I can see them."

Razor moved with controlled ease and covertly slipped his Glovatrix on as he assessed the six Enforcers now visible to him. "No need for violence, Commander. " He stood and brought his open hands up without apparent hesitation. "I surrender."

"Remove your weapon and set it on the ground." Ulysses waved his blaster slightly in the direction of Razor's right forearm as two burly Commandos flanked him at the ready.

Razor removed his Glovatrix and set it on the ground next to his helmet with deliberate speed. He stood back up and raised his hands again with a steady gaze on his former commander. "There's a survival knife in the pouch on my leg and one on my left arm." The calmness in his own voice and heart surprised him a little. "And a small blaster, right breast holster."

Ulysses narrowed his yellow eyes at the much shorter tom as he stepped up and roughly cuffed Razor's hands behind his back. He motioned to a black and white longfurred tomkat as he pushed his prisoner into the waiting arms of the Commandos. "Field search him, Officer Celest."

"Yes, sir," the slender male responded by reflex, but hesitated before stepping up to his secret lover.

Razor steadfastly ignored the familiar, gentle hands that systematically patted every inch of his body, removing items as they were found. He refused to meet distressed, ice-blue eyes as Officer Celest stood up and turned to Commander Feral.

"He's clean sir." Celest nodded and backed off with a silent, apologetic glance at Razor.

"Now, to find out if my suspicions are correct." Feral smiled as he advanced, a mixture of satisfaction and sadness in his yellow eyes. No one breathed as he reached for Razor's mask.

"No ..." Razor's first denial was barely a whisper as his eyes went wide. His second came with a snarl and blindly fast maneuver that dropped both commandos and Feral to the ground, barely a heartbeat before he collapsed.

"Sir, are you all right?" A Snow Leopard Xanith Kat officer rushed up, his blaster hastily holstered as he tried to help his commander up.

"What the hell did you do?" Feral demanded as his eyes fell on Officer Celest's crumpled form and the growing stain of blood darkening the grass around Razor's head.

"Umm, I shot him sir." The feline officer backed off at the barely controlled rage focused on him. "He attacked .... Celest passed out."

"Get a medivac here NOW!" Feral bellowed before he knelt next to the fallen SWAT Kat. "Gods, what have I done in the name of a game?" He whispered as he carefully removed Razor's mask to get a better look at the wound.

Ulysses couldn't quite suppress a shiver at the oozing bullet hole going in the back of Jake's skull, much less the implications of the gory pulp that remained of the tom's left eye. His hand was shaking as he pulled his radio out and called headquarters to link him to Felina's home phone.

"Hello?" Her sleepy voice crackled over the line.

"I need you to take your S-Ops squad to the Salvage Yard and put Chance Furlong under protective custody. If he doesn't try to kill us, he'll kill himself. Bring him up to date as necessary."


"Razor just took a shot to the head." Ulysses let his voice show some of the turmoil he felt. "No matter how this turns out, be ready for hell from his mate."

"Shit." The sound of her feet hitting the floor echoed through before the connection cut.

PumaDyne's underground R&D facility, known as Cathedral, is a full-fledged city of nearly twenty thousand, dug into the mountains surrounding the Kildar Badlands Valley. They specialize in vehicles, heavy weapon systems and projects that MegaKat City won't allow in city limits. Its best kept secret, however, is that Cathedral is completely self-supporting.

The head of this militarized research metropolis is Pakitra Dyne, daughter of one of the founders and sole owner of PumaDyne. She, like her father, has never thought small, or suffered from short sightedness, in business or life. Now she is reading of something she thought she was well prepared for.

"Pat?" A lioness in a PunaDyne Cathedral security uniform touched the petite, white furred shekat's shoulder in the CO's office. "Are you all right?"

"He can't be ..." Pakitra shook her head violently, denying the contents of a teletype from Ulysses Feral on her screen. With a shudder and deep breath she visibly pulled herself together and thumped the comm. "Hathin! Get a med team out to Serenity Thorn and put my mate back together. He's ...."

"I'll do the rest, love." A deep female voice crooned back with a slight accent. "Don't you worry about your Jake, that Kat's got more friends in high places than The Lady Bastet herself." She chuckled over the noises of hurried, but well practiced, packing.

Pakitra Dyne closed her eyes, leaned into her head of security's gentle embrace and shivered. "Of all the times ..."

"I know, sister." Kenya knelt to bring their heads even and stroked short, silky silver hair. "He'll make it. Maybe a little worse for the wear, but a bullet's not going to stop that Kat."

Pakitra turned her head to take in sure, strong features and absolute conviction in pale blue eyes. "How can you be so blasted sure?"

"Shu, sister." Kenya pulled her willing leader closer and ignored the dampness clinging to her uniform. "Because I see him. He has too much left to do to die now. The Fates won't allow it."

Pakitra took a deep breath and nodded, pulling out of the embrace with grim determination. "With the guys OOC we'll have to field what we have." She turned to her security chief with a weak smile. "Can you handle that for a couple hours?"

"Of course, Pat." Kenya stood and shook her beaded golden mane of hair out with a flash of bright fangs. "You take care of yourself, and your kits. The next generation comes before the warrior. We all know that."

Pakitra unconsciously dropped her hands to her still-flat belly. "It's hard to think like that, you know."

"I know, love." She dropped a quick kiss on Pakitra's lips. "It's never easy to stand by when there's something that needs doing."

Pakitra touched Kenya's arm as the lioness stood, waiting to have her attention. "I trust you."

Kenya smiled softly, her eyes bright with the knowledge of that statement's true meaning. "Thank you, Chieftess."

A continent away lies the headquarters of the ExCRU, the Extraordinary Crimes Response Unit. Created eighteen years go by Aristal's Department of Justice, Rehabilitation and Safety around a gifted Profiler to investigate the most violent and unsolvable of crimes. The first team, ExCRU Alpha, proved so successful before their Profiler was injured and retired that fifteen new teams have been built over the ensuing years.

While the ExCRU charter may include worldwide authority, outside their home country-state of Aristal this elite team's members are not always welcome. This is especially true in MegaKat City, the only technologically advanced state to deny ExCRU a local office and team, though their Deputy Mayor did agree to the retiring Profiler's relocation to her city.

But welcome or not, there are a few conditions in which an ExCRU can override a local decision to refuse them access. The loss or severe injury of an agent is one of those conditions, and ExCRU Alpha, the first and foremost of them, is not about to let something as petty as politics stand in the way of doing their job for one of their own. So around a finely polished wooden, monitor-inlaid table three furs sit in various stages of disturbed agitation and hurried settling.

"What happened to Jake?" A brown, black and cream piebald shekat demanded of the red Vixen that had summoned them.

"Do calm down, Marsa." A regal, flame-furred tigeress shifted slightly in her seat to glance at the Vixen. "I'm sure Zarra will explain it all when Nick and Terry get here."

"They're here, spit it out already." A large black Wolf Kantin burst into the room, still shoving one arm into hems leather jacket, followed by a black-marked silver Ferret in equal disarray. "Hi Sheir, Marsa.

"Of course, Nick." The Vixen nodded. "This just appeared in the MegaKat City Enforcers database, filed by Commander Ulysses Feral himself." Zarra brought up the text of a very short, and plainly incomplete, report on the main screen in the wall.

"Damn." Nick flicked hems velvety gray-black ears flat as Terry dropped uneasily into a chair next to hem.

Zarra started up the briefing proper as the general muttering settled. "While it's minimal to say the least of it, he does include that Jake Clawson was injured in the line of duty by a now deceased local drug dealer, Jordin Greyseal. Jake is now in the high security wing of the Enforcer's Serenity Thorn Hospital."

The Vixen glanced up at faces she'd given so many briefings to before and swallowed at the grim rage even their normally stoic tigress leader showed. "I did a little digging in the hospital's systems ... he's currently listed as in critical condition and in surgery. A single shot entered the back of his head on the right side and exited through the left eye." She hesitated again at the ripple of shock through her audience but pushed on. "I've alerted medical and a surgical transport is already on its way there."

"And our authority?" Sheir Khan rumbled, her rage just barely in check.

"Full Investigation of an agent injured on duty." Zarra perked slightly at Marsa and Khan's matching predatory grins. "His move there was done officially and is still on the books as such. Your skimmer-ship is on pad six and ready to go. I've uploaded all we have on the area, though I can't say they've been very forthcoming, even in their own systems," she groused as they stood to leave.

"I'm sure you got more than anyone could expect." Terry patted her shoulder nervously with a black-furred paw. "You always were my best student."

"I try, Terry." She looked up, two sets of frightened eyes meeting for a silent moment. "But these guys ... the whole continent's fucked up."

The black masked ferret chuckled slightly. "There's a reason they aren't running the planet, and it's not outside competition."

"Take care." She twisted to kiss his paw lightly.

"Always, sweetheart. Always."

The heart of MegaKat City politics, at least from outward appearances, is a moderately sized building with one feature of note: its gothic clock tower. It is a feature the true power in the Mayor’s office has come to hate with a passion for the role it has played in several of her most difficult days to survive.

That true power is Deputy Mayor Calico Briggs, known as Callie to most. An overly petite blond shekat with pale peach-tan fur and expressive pale green eyes, she nevertheless manages to seem at home in her grand, sparsely decorated office. She has spent more than ten years in this office, preparing to move into the Mayor’s without so much as a twitched whisker in the political machine that has kept the fat tom there for six decades.

Now she sits at her large, polished wood desk, listening to news she was expected in some form for years. Still, she accepts the news of Razor's injury, of the meeting to figure out what to do about the fallout, and that Ulysses was coming to pick her up for it, with stunned calm. She hangs up the phone automatically with Commander Feral's sincere condolences ringing in her ear.

She was still sitting at her desk, head buried in her arms, when he knocked hesitantly at her office door, then opened it slowly. "Miss Briggs?"

He stepped in and shut the door when he caught sight of her hunched form. "Callie ... are you all right?"

"What does it look like, Commander?" Her low hiss didn't cover her teary voice well as he knelt next to her, bringing their eyes nearly level.

"He'll live, Callie." Ulysses carefully pulled her against his chest. "He's a strong Kat."

"But Razor won't." She relaxed fractionally against the familiar warmth. "We need him, especially now."

"Callie," he tipped her chin up. "You don't have to protect me. I know you're in love with him, not me." He smiled faintly at her surprised jerk. "You're not that good at lying, at least not when you're in bed."

The blonde's pale green eyes went wide for a moment, then narrowed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Callie ...."

"How dare you ....."

"Calico Briggs!" His hissing growl overrode her outburst. Then he gentled and kissed her lightly. "I'm trying to say I understand if you want to be with him right now, and I don't mind."

"Why?" Her ears were still back, but most of the harshness gone from her voice and only confusion left in her scent.

"Because it will serve the city well if your comfort helps him heal." Ulysses smiled sadly. "And I couldn't object much to anything that's so important to you."

Callie stood suddenly and quickly put herself together. "We'd better get to Cathedral. I doubt Pat's in much of a good mood."

"And her hormones can't be helping any." He cocked a playful smile before settling into the grim facade he showed to the world at large.

Callie managed a small smile back as he opened the door for her.

The MegaKat City Enforcer's Headquarters is an impressive, and nearly unique, building. The main tower's base takes up four city blocks, and the secondary tower's a full block. What makes this new building so unusual is the fully functional Enforcer airbase atop them, its runway stretching between the two towers.

This building serves many functions; airbase, prison, interrogation, training facility, intelligence headquarters, R&D center, vehicle and maintenance base, and even home to roughly sixty percent of the Enforcers stationed in the city proper, including their Commander.

Right now, the most city-shaking activity is taking place in a small conference room in an upper floor. Meant to serve many functions, this room has only a simple meeting table and a grand view of snow-capped brown mountains beyond the city from a floor to ceiling window-wall.

In this room, Lieutenant Commander Felina Feral faced a squadron of twelve Commandos, two other pilots and Dr. Brenda Windwalker. Her voice was strong as she locked eyes with each of her handpicked special operations team. "You all know Jake Clawson was shot less than an hour ago as Razor by an Enforcer trying to do his duty without sufficient information." She wrinkled her nose in disgust and glanced at the only other female in the room, an older, terra cotta furred lady with dark brown hair tired back in a loose bun.

Dr. Brenda Windwalker nodded and spoke after a glance at her palm-computer. "He is in critical condition in surgery as of this moment. Initial estimations give him less than ten percent chance of survival, and no chance of coming out of this without severe handicaps. He will lose the eye, even if by some miracle there is no significant brain damage and related issues. How much he will allow or can be replaced by cybernetics remains to be seen."

"As of this moment, we have kept it off the news, but that won't last." Lt. Feral growled. "With an excessive amount of luck, Chance won't know until we tell him." She locked gazes with each of her Kats again. "Our job is simple. Keep him and us and this city alive until Commander Feral, Miss Briggs and Pakitra Dyne can work out a better solution." She let a breath out.

Brenda spoke up in the pause, also meeting each of her teammates' eyes. "Just remember, Chance has just lost his partner, leader, lover, mate, best friend and secret identity, all in the same breath. If he's even remotely rational, be very concerned."

Felina nodded and flicked her hand and eyes around the group. "Anything else?"

A large, deep gray tom with black hair nodded as her gaze settled on him and spoke at her slight nod. "I'm not so sure Jake and Chance are mates, or even lovers. I received private confirmation from Officer Patrik Celest just before the meeting that he and Jake never actually broke up. The show they gave four years ago was just that, a show. To protect Celest from becoming involved with any fallout of Razor's ID becoming known."

"Oh, glory." Felina breathed. "All right. Be careful how you refer to their relationship past partners. It's still fairly safe to assume that Chance has lost the center of his life." She gathered herself and nodded before continuing her swing around the group. "You know the drill. We're to secure Chance, the Salvage Yard and any SWAT Kat facilities there. Mount up and move out."

Within the Megacat City Salvage Yard's fenced borders rests the home and business of two former Enforcers; a gunner, Jake Clawson and his pilot, Chance Furlong. Now they run the metal salvage yard and mechanic's garage on the property on the order of Commander Feral.

But it's a bad idea to hand a gifted mechanic a hundred acres of military and prototype salvage. Especially a gifted mechanic with a lot of high tech field experience and that very desperately wants to get back into the middle of the action, and the center of his partner's world. Unless you want something like the SWAT Kats to appear, that is.

How much of this has occurred to the burly tabby tomkat that sometimes wears the black mask and blue and red flightsuit of the SWAT Kat pilot, T-Bone, is a matter of great debate in some circles. But at this moment he is without his mask, and Chance freezes from reloading the TurboKat as every intruder alarm but one in the hanger goes off. It is a cacophony designed to get their attention even when deep in the jet's guts and tells them the basics of what it was before they even check.

One glance at the large monitor on the far wall told him Enforcers were at the Garage door, in force, and ready for a lot of trouble. A heavy tank sitting on the ramp's hatch ended any option of taking the TurboKat out. A quick flick between cameras negated all the other escape routes from the Hanger as well. They'd come very well prepared.

He hit the sound on as Lt. Feral made a cautious approach to the main garage door, his mind on Razor and a thousand implications to the force surrounding him.

"Chance Furlong! Jake Clawson!" Her voice carried through the two-story building without a bullhorn. "Come out of the building now. Your lives are in danger."

Chance looked at her on the monitor for a second more before bolting up the ladder and making a carefully practiced appearance out the side door of the garage. "Lieutenant?" He caught her attention, pretending to have no idea what could possibly bring them here and prayed he was convincing at the charade.

The tall shekat visibly relaxed, but her voice and brown eyes were sharp. "Where's Jake? Is anyone else in there?"

"No one else is here, Lieutenant." He raised his hands slightly, honestly not sure what to make of the not-quite-by-the-book way the commandos were eyeing him and their very odd looking weapons. "What's going on?"

She stared him down for a moment before nodding and motioned to her squad. "Keller, Greytail, secure the Yard's gate. Everyone else do your security sweep." She walked up to Chance and laid a firm hand on his shoulder as most of her team scattered to their duties. Only three remained: two commandos that kept a wary eye on him and the surroundings, and a petite dark-furred civilian shekat. Felina's voice dropped to a concerned murmur. "Is there someplace we can talk? Somewhere you'll be comfortable?"

"Urr ... I ... what's going on?" He stammered, eyeing the obviously well practiced way this squadron swept through the Yard and reported to each other without words. "Why ...."

"Chance, maybe you should just ..." She hesitated, then shook her head. Her voice took on a commanding tone reminiscent of her uncle as she met the shorter Kat's bewildered gaze. "Let me show you something, then I'll tell you what's going on, then you can ask questions."

"What is the danger, Lieutenant?" He persisted, following her inside with two commandos and a dark furred civilian behind them.

"Circumstances have changed ... rather abruptly ... in the past couple hours." She let a breath out and led him to the small back room that contained the entrance to the SWAT Kats Hanger. His sharply increased tension didn't escape her notice, or that of the three following them.

She knelt and open the security locked hatch with practiced ease, then looked up at him. "We know you and Jake are the SWAT Kats. We've known for a long time."

"So you're here to arrest me?" He met the prospect with more calm than anyone expected, and held his hands out to her with his wrists together.

"No." She sighed. "We're here to help you. Now please, where can we talk?"

He just stared at her; almost ready to answer when a light touch on his arm caught his attention. The slim, dark brown fingers belonged to the black-haired civilian.

"Chance, I'm Dr. Windwalker." The shekat spoke in soft tones with a matching kindness in her gray eyes. "I understand this will be a lot to take in."

"Spit it out, ma'am." Chance finally flicked his ears back and glared at both of them. "Either of you."

"Your partner was injured earlier today. He's in the hospital." Felina rushed the words out.

"And ..." He bared his teeth at the Enforcer, sinking into a challenging hunch.

"He's going to be there for a long time." Brenda slipped slightly into his personal space. "He lost an eye."

"An ... eye?" The tabby shuddered as he felt himself slip into shock. "Jake ... Jake's sky-blind?"

"I'm afraid so." Felina supported him as his legs went weak. "If you could show us what not to touch downstairs ... I'll take you to see him, okay?"

"How?" Chance looked up into sympathetic brown eyes. "How?"

"He was shot, as Razor." Felina answered simply. "One of the Enforcers who knows saw it and we moved on that information."

"By who?" He stood strong on his rage now and grabbed the front of her uniform. "Who shot my partner?"

"It's been dealt with, Chance." The tall shekat looked him straight in the eyes. "Hear what I'm telling you. You and Jake were never kicked off the force. Jake was shot on duty. It has been dealt with."

He relaxed into her touch slightly and closed his eyes. "I would have liked to be there."

"He would have been held for you if possible." She caressed his cheek-ruff. "You know that. I would have liked to be there too."

"Can we lose the audience?" He cast a sideways glance to the commandos, then back to Felina and swallowed. "I'll show you around."

She nodded and made a slight hand gesture. Both commandos and Dr. Windwalker nodded and vacated the back room, Brenda shutting the door behind them.

"What else did you want to tell me?" The tabby straightened and faced her squarely. "What couldn't be done in front of your troops?"

Felina bit her lip and took a breath before closing the distance between them with shocking speed. She let her lips, then body, relax against his for a long moment, letting touch, taste and smell speak for her. She was breathing hard as she pulled away slightly, but still kept close to his warmth and tried to translate the whirlwind of expressions on his face.

Chance pulled out of her arms and stared. "Why?"

"Because I ..." She looked down. "I don't have the nerve for any other way."

"No. Why?" He caught her shoulder and forced her to meet his gaze and growled. "Why now? Why me?"

"You asked." She whispered painfully. "I found out only an hour ago you weren't Jake's mate. I would have pursued you years ago if I'd known you were available." She shivered and closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. "I wasn't ... I didn't plan on telling you yet. Your mind should be on him, and mine on the city's protection, not on each other."

Chance back down a little, his voice low. "It's that bad?"

"Could be worse ..." She shuddered in memory of the couple pictures she'd seen. "He ..." She stopped at a faint buzz on her belt and flicked her ears back. She grabbed the radio and growled. "What now?"

An equally displeased-sounding male voice crackled over the line. "A PumaDyne Cathedral medical transport is ... requesting ... to take Commander Clawson to their facility."

"What's his condition?" Felina snapped back.

"Umm, stable, ma'am, and out of surgery." The officer replied after a short pause.

"Permission granted." She nodded slightly. "I expected this. Tell Hathin that Chance and I will be at Cathedral ASAP, and she'd better take Officer Celest with her. He has mate-rights if that hasn't already been passed along."

"Yes, ma'am." The male's respect showed even over the transmission before she cut the connection.

"Don't I have a say in this?" Chance growled as her attention returned to him.

"Would you have done any differently?" She all but dared him. "Even you must know Cathedral has the finest equipment and personnel on the planet."

He shuffled a bit. "I guess not. He did say Jake was better, didn't he?"

"Yeah. And he's in the best hands." Felina clasped his shoulder and smiled encouragingly. "Now show me the basics of what not to touch and we'll go see your partner."

The ExCRU flagship Agrementh and her sisters are beautiful jets by any standards. Small, sleek and fast VTOLs with dedicated AI personalities; they're designed to transport an ExCRU and their gear anywhere on the planet in mere hours. Their greatest feature though, the envy of every other department, is the main passenger compartment.

It is a space with a single purpose -- to ensure the team arrives in the best condition possible: rested, comfortable and as well informed as if they were still at headquarters. As such, no effort was spared to make it the perfect briefing room and research center within the space allowed, as well as a good place to catch a couple hours sleep between missions.

At this moment, the Agrementh is winging towards MegaKat City with the four surviving members of ExCRU Alpha, the first of the ExCRU teams, settling in to investigate the near-death of one still counted as their own.

"Okay, let's start this properly." Sheir Khan finished braiding her silky black hair into its customary long ponytail as they reached cruising altitude. "Territorial profile?" She glanced at the high-strung black-masked ferret entrenched behind an extensive computer system.

Terry nodded and spoke rapidly as he brought up information on the main screen. "We're flying into a class 2 war zone with a moderately stable government.

"The Mayor’s Office does officially and, for the most part practically, control the area with the visible support of the Enforcers, Police and SWAT Kats. Several companies, including PumaDyne, MegaKat Biochemical and Kahn Industries are among the most prominent."

"Your cousin's playing in hot zones again, Shier?" Nick chuckled with a light nip at her ear.

"For the last time." The sleek tigress growled without much malice and batted the black Wolf away. "He is not my cousin. We are not related in any way."

"Then you really should breed with him." Marsa purred. "Think about what the kittens would be like!"

"I don't think so." Shier huffed. "I did my duty on that front." She nailed the Ferret with a piercing gaze. "Do continue the briefing, Terry."

"Yes, ma'am." The Ferret nervously glanced at his monitor before continuing. "The Enforcers are more a military force than a law enforcement one, but because of the circumstances of the territory, they acquired both the police department and their authority roughly sixty years go. Ulysses Feral became Commander nineteen years ago after his uncle, Sander Feral, died pursuing the territories first S-class criminal, Dark Kat. By all reports, he's as honest and dedicated as they come, as long as Dark Kat's not involved." Terry chuckled understandingly. "Then he kind of loses perspective in a hurry."

"How'd he take getting DK's head on a platter?" Shier cocked her head and purred.

Nick chuckled. "Who cares? I know darling Razor might even forgive us for showing up with that present."

"I second that idea!" Marsa cheered. "He's a nuisance of the first order." She caught Terry's curious look. "What? You think I didn't keep up on Jake's adventures?"

The Ferret shook his slender head and murmured. "Not really." He looked around the group. "Does this mean you all know about the S-Class' walking around that place?"

"Dark Kat, PastMaster, Chop Shop, Turmoil, Dr. Viper, the MetalliKats, Hard Drive, and MadKat." Sheir counted off on her fingers, going through her right hand twice. "That all of them?"

"All the major ones." He sighed.

"'Cept Mutilor." Nick broke in. "Can you believe the speed Jake took that UFO out in?"

Marsa snickered. "General V'delsh didn't even have enough time to get there and it was over." She glanced at her CO. "How did that one fall out anyway?"

"It didn't really." Sheir Khan shrugged. "She did her best, and their preparations weren't lacking, her orders didn't include moving that far that fast."

"Is there a reason I'm repeating what you guys already seem to know?" Terry straightened his spine to look down at his teammates until they settled down.

"Calm down and continue, Terry." Shier purred lightly.

"Okay." He shrugged absently. "The State of Kadrinia has only one city of mention, but MegaKat City does fit its name. It was classified as the first Gigatropolis some seventy years ago and has a population exceeding 1.3 billion as of the 2052 census." He paused at Marsa's low whistle and smiled at the country-bred shekat. "The breed mix is assessed at 90% Kat, 7% Kantin, and the remaining 3% a sampling of all others, except Gargoyles and Dracon. While I have my doubts about their complete absence, neither breed has a registered presence in the city."

Terry entwined his fingers and stretched before he continued the briefing. "Their Mayor, currently Maximillian Manx, is elected every four years. He's held the post for over 60 years at this point. The City Council is done every five, and they don't seem to have much power when it comes down to it. Most other positions are appointed by the Mayor, and answer to him."

"Sixty years?" Sheir arched a black eyebrow. "Is there any hint this place isn't heavily corrupt?"

"I'm getting to that, Khan." Terry waved his long, black-tipped tail at her. Now as I was saying, the Commander of the Enforcers, currently Ulysses Feral, is promoted to the post from within the Enforcers and is remarkably independent on paper from the rest of the government. From all reports, he's involved in his share of intrigue, but he's very much on the level. That is backed up by the few personal encounters JRaS personnel have had with him."

"Sounds like a good one to be as honest as we can with," Nick Farcall put in absently.

Sheir Khan nodded. "Especially considering he was Jake's primary local contact when he was moved here. He'll likely know the most about what's going on, or at least have a good clue where to start."

"What's not said outright is the real power-brokers in the city are two unelected shekats; Deputy Mayor Calico Briggs and PumaDyne Cathedral's ... Commanding Officer, Pakitra Dyne. I'd also venture to say that the official powers are not very aware of their influence." The silvery ferret stilled for a moment, waiting for the inevitable questions he saw brewing on his teammates faces.

Sheir spoke up first. "Did you manage to find out how common Exath Kats are?"

"Sorry Khan, exotics are rare at best." Terry grinned at the piebald Kat. "Marsa will be our least conspicuous member, and I'm going to be drawing a lot of attention." He squirmed slightly.

"Fenris be damned." Nick shook his head and stared at the piebald shekat. "Our medical examiner's inconspicuous?"

"Joy. At least tell me you have Ulysses Feral's personal file." The tigress smiled with mock severity.

"Of course." Terry chuckled and handed her a liteslate. "What kind of amateur do you think I am?"

"A successful one." She smiled back and accepted the thin, book-sized item. "Thanks."

"Always happy to help you out. Have fun with him." Terry chirped and turned to Nick and Marsa. "Now before you ask, yes, I got more on Jake in the past eight years than he'll be at all pleased about."

Their matching grins didn't take away from the echoed "we knew you could."

"Now, on to our favorite Profiler." Terry leaned back and twisted his body into a ball against his chair and desk to get into a comfortable position as the other three listened intently. "Dear Jakee's been a busy kitty since he lost his gift." He grinned, then sobered and brought up an alliance chart. "Now mind you, none of this will hold up in court ..."

"We know, Terry," Shier Khan rumbled with a mixture of irritation and amusement. "Who loves him and who's trying to kill him?"

"Who loves him?" The Ferret couldn't hold back a full body snicker. "He hasn't changed much on that count. I've found clear confirmation on an Enforcer, Officer Patrik Celest, and the head of PumaDyne's Cathedral, Pakitra Dyne. She's pregnant by him, by the way."

"Figures he wouldn't tell us." Marsa snorted.

"It's not like we can just take a kitten, even if irm's a Profiler." Nick admonished her lightly as hem stretched hems arms. "The Dynes are a world power, remember."

"And Jake is one of us." She hissed back, her white-eyed brown ears flicked flat.

"Easy kids." Shier interrupted them easily. "That's not our politics."

Terry paused a moment longer before nodding at the tigress. "He's also got a strong bond to Chance Furlong, his pilot, and Calico Briggs, the Deputy Mayor. It's probably safe to assume he's not sleeping with either of them, though," he elaborated at Marsa's raised eyebrow and twitching tail. "Chance is pretty well confirmed as female-only, and with Miss Briggs, if they aren't extremely careful, it would make a good deal more than a blip on the political scene, in either of his guises. But back to who he is sleeping with. Assuming he hasn't changed his patterns, and what's known of Pakitra's, it's fairly safe to assume his team at PumaDyne is also sleeping with each other, as we do."

"Whoa, back up a bit." Nick bolted to an upright position on the couch, hems tail and ponytail making a matching double-wave of gloss black. "What team at PumaDyne?"

"Uh'mm, yes." Terry flustered slightly. "You know the SWAT Kats, that Jake did that and is Razor?"

"Yes ..." Marsa drawled impatiently.

"Well, he's set himself up a squadron of them, at PumaDyne Cathedral with Pakitra." Terry motioned with his hands. "If they ever decide to actually take action, I feel sorry for whatever's on the receiving end." He rolled his shoulders a bit. "Jake may have lost his Profiling gift, but he's picked up one for machines, especially high tech ones. With what little information I can actually count on being true, I'd say he's at least as good as anyone we have." He cocked a smile. "But he has better resources and a higher personal stake in it than us too."

"Attention ExCRU Alpha." The Agrementh's satisfied voice purred over the intercom as fine silk. "We are entering final approach to Cathedral now, please secure your toys. Miss Dyne is waiting for you in the main receiving bay, and Jake is under their care."

"At least something's going well," Marsa groused, "and just when did our jet pick up an attitude?"

"Lady SnowShine is as supportive as you'll find in MKC." Nick ruffled Marsa's hair affectionately.

"Lady SnowShine?" Shier cocked an eyebrow at hem.

"Umm, well ..." Nick blushed furiously.

"I think our Wolfie has a crush!" Marsa squealed in sheer delight and hugged hem. "Ooo, we'll find some time for you to see her alone without being too obvious. Why didn't you say something earlier?"

Terry hid a snicker behind his computer as the male-looking hermaphrodite stammered something unintelligible and struggled out of the shekat's grasp. "And Agre's always had an attitude."

"I know for a fact that Jake wouldn't mind." The piebald grinned, still draped over her target of the moment.

"Yes he would." Nick snarled back, hems ears flattened and fangs barred to the gums. "How could I even consider dating his kitten's mother, knowing what seeing any of us again will do to him? Pakitra is his mate."

"Umm, yah." Marsa dropped back to her chair as all the pleasantness drained from the room. "It's going to hurt him, seeing what he's lost."

"There's nothing saying he has to see us," Shier mused absently, "but it's been nearly ten years. If those wounds haven't healed with all he's accomplished, I doubt seeing us will do much more damage either."

"Last warning, kits," Agrementh's voice held an amused undertone on intercom in the ensuing silence. "Put your toys away and get ready for landing. We are here."

Chance stopped dead behind Felina and their Lioness guide when they entered a waiting room in the Sick Bay of Cathedral. His brain scrambled desperately to assess the gathering there, fixating first on the strangest sight to him: Deputy Mayor Briggs and Commander Feral in a hushed conversation with a small silver-white shekat in a rich green silk suit that showed off her sharp eyes, all three clearly distressed.

Felina walked up to her Commander without much hesitation and spoke when he looked at her. "The Yard and Hanger are secure, uncle." Her eyes shifted to include the other two females. "Any news?"

"He's not dead, and he won't die unless he wants to." The white shekat sighed, shifting nervously as Chance edged up on them. "How much of his mind will be left when he wakes up, that's another matter, though our scans indicate he's not severely brain damaged."

"What happened?" The tabby asked quietly, trying to figure out who all the others in the room were. He couldn't shake the impression that he'd just walked into a commanding officer's meeting.

The white shekat sighed as all eyes landed on her. "Let's have a seat folks, this is one tale each of us only have parts of." She motioned them to a seating area as a brightly feathered raptor rushed up to the group.

"Excuse me, but is one of you Commander Sheir Khan?" The nurse was nearly out of breath as she came to a halt just outside their group.

"That would be me." A regal tigress as tall as Commander Feral turned on the messenger.

"Ma'am, Mr. Clawson is conscious and has asked to see you." She nodded at the tigress, then turned to her employer. "As long as you don't stress him, Dr. Jaykan said one member of each group can also come. Though he and Jake will have the final say on anyone staying."

"Understood." Sheir Khan growled and strode to take her place without hesitation, though the piebald shekat that had been standing next to her watched wistfully.

"Chance, Miss Briggs, Cmdr. Feral, and I will be the others." Pakitra Dyne motioned to them to follow the nurse.

"Sheir," Jake's voice was barely above a relieved rasp. "I sorry ...."

"Sush," she said, putting a strong hand on his shoulder as Chance pushed to her side next to the bed and tried very hard not to be sick at the sight of his gunner's head wrapped in bandages.

"But ... they said MKC." Jake groaned, rolling his well-bandaged head to look at her with his uncovered eye. "I know what ...."

"It's being dealt with." The tigress insisted gently. "You need to heal. That is your first and only duty right now."

"But ...."

"Jake?" Chance interrupted with a hand on his partner's cold arm. "Listen to her."

"Yes, sir." The lean tom lost most of his strength and sank into the bed.

"Sir? I'm your partner." He couldn't help but be taken aback at the bewildered look Jake gave him.

"Jake, what's the last thing you remember?" Pakitra quickly took control as Chance sank the rest of the way back into shock and just stared blankly at the injured tomkat. He didn't even notice Callie and Ulysses urging him away from the bedside or the growing fear in the big tom's scent.

Jake tried to relax and searched a jumbled memory before he answered. "I was in a sewer system, tracking Keller." He paused when Sheir Khan sucked in a sharp breath. "Commander?"

"What year is it, Jake?" The tigress asked very quietly.

"2043." He swept the room with his good eye. "I take it that's not correct."

"It's 2053." Sheir Khan informed him as a thoughtful look crossed her face. "We got Keller, and you retired."

"What?" Jake's attempt to sit bolt upright was aborted just above the surface of the bed by the tigress' hand.

"Which of those three things don't you believe?" She asked as he sank back down, shaking.

"I'm retired?" Jake's voice was weak.



"You were injured in that chase," Sheir explained gently. "You weren't a Profiler any more when you woke up."

"Whose choice?" Jake voice was tight as he locked eyes with his former Commander.

"Yours, silly." She brushed his cheek. "I'd never kick you out for that."

"Ten years ..." he breathed. "Who's your Profiler?"

"That's a little complicated." Sheir hedged at his one eyed glare. "ExCRU Alpha was decommissioned, though we all still serve." She held up a finger when he took a breath to speak. "Just happened that way. There are sixteen active ExCRUs now and five more being trained."

"Got room for a sixth?" The pitiful hope was clear in his voice and face.

"No!" Chance pushed both females out of his way.

"Why not?" Jake asked calmly. "Whatever I was here, I'm a Profiler now."

"Don't you dare treat me like that." Chance growled deep in his throat as his claws dug into the side of the bed. "I've been your pilot for over seven years. I've followed you over the orders of my Commander, walked off the force, accepted humiliation and ridicule, traveled through time after an immortal maniac and held the jet steady to take a kill-strike in an alien universe to kill both of us there on your word and nothing more."

"My pilot?" Jake took a deep breath and gave Sheir Kahn a slight wave off when the tigress moved to remove the nearly hysterical tabby. "Everyone out." He growled sharply. "Everyone but Chance."

Chance trembled in silence as the room emptied, never breaking his gaze from his gunner's. He held his peace until the injured Kat spoke softly.

"I don't remember any of that, you know." He began with a sad edge on his voice. "But I already regret it."

"Why?" Chance asked before the words had even fully registered.

"Please sit." Jake met the tabby's gaze with his good eye until the bigger tom complied. "Do you know what a Profiler is, what one does?'

"A special detective." He shrugged. "So?"

"I'm good at reading people."

"Tell me something I don't know, buddy." Chance growled and leaned forwarded, into Jake personal space. He softened a little with worry. "Tell me what's going on. You've been acting strange for weeks now."

Jake opened his mouth, then shut it and regarded Chance carefully for a long moment. "I don't know what was wrong, partner, but right now, what is wrong is I don't remember anything about us." He reached up with on hand and brushed the tabby's cheek. "Tell me what we shared, that earned me such fierce loyalty."

"You're my gunner, Jake." He looked more than a little lost as the hand dropped away. "You've never led us wrong, not once in almost eight years. Why wouldn't I be loyal?"

Jake closed his eyes and sighed. "If I'm just your gunner, you can find another ...."

"No!" The snarl was matched with an equally vehement shaking head. "No, you're my partner ..." his voice trailed off as he tried to find the words to convey what the other Kat was to him.

"Are we lovers?" Jake offered in a very neutral tone after a long silence.

"N-no." The tabby blinked several times. "But we might have well been. We lived together, fought together ... hell, most of the planet seems to think we were an exclusive pairing." He snorted ruefully.

"Any reason we're all-but-lifemate-partners?" He prompted again. "Why didn't we share a bed?"

"Ummm, it never came up." Chance could only shrug and shake his head. "Didn't really occur to me after we got kicked off, and you ... well, you never said anything about it either."

Jake lay thoughtfully for a moment before finding Chance's downcast eyes and scratched the tabby's jaw. "I can't be a gunner now, you know." He paused at the slight tremor that passed under his fingers. "But that means little in the long run. If you wish to stay with me, it is easily done."

"And do what?" He moved away from Jake's ever-bolder fingers. "I'm a pilot. We're the SWAT Kats ...."

"If the unit can ...."

"No unit, it's just us and the jet you built." Chance interrupted, then glanced away. "We aren't exactly official."

"Don't answer me now." Jake sighed softly. "Tomorrow morning, let me know if I should find a place for you on my ExCRU team."

"Umm, okay." He hesitated as Jake caught his hand and squeezed.

"Tell Sheir I want you fully briefed on what that means, and believe me when I say you will not be abandoned, no matter what you choose." He let go of the tabby's hand and relaxed into the bed. "Please send her in."

"Umm, all right Jake."

"Commander Kahn?" Chance walked up to the tigress with a touch of uncertainty in him. "Jake wants to see you and asked I be briefed on what being part of his ExCRU team means."

She raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Chance Furlong, this is Marsa Ringold." She motioned to the fit black, brown and cream piebald shekat almost as tall as he was when she walked up. "ExCRU Alpha's Medical Examiner. She'll brief you on being a member of Jake's ExCRU."

"Yes, ma'am." Marsa smiled warmly as she gave Chance a good looking-over and then turned to Pakitra. "Could you spare someone to show us back to the Agrementh? This will be much simpler if I have access to our databases and tools I know how to use."

"Of course." Pakitra nodded and glanced around the room, her eyes settling on a Cheetah security officer. "Tyvin!"

"Yes, ma'am?" He saluted her sharply as he stopped in front of her.

"Please take Chance and Dr. Ringold to the ExCRU's craft and stay with them. Provide whatever assistance is needed."

"Yes, ma'am." He inclined his head to her and turned to duty. "If you would follow me, please."

"Just a moment." Chance's gaze cast about the room for a pair of familiar, tall brown Kats. "I need to have a word with a Feral first."

"Of course," Marsa nodded easily.

"Commander, Felina," Chance nodded at the pair as he walked up, his attention on the taller tomkat, "is what she told me true?" He nodded at Felina. "I am still an Enforcer pilot?"

"Yes," Ulysses inclined his head gravely, "SWAT was supposed to go to actual squadron status soon."

"So what happens to me without my gunner?" He squared his shoulders and faced the tom he'd spent years hating, and now just wasn't sure what to think of anymore.

"It still goes forward." The Commander answered gruffly. "You're still the first SWAT Kat pilot, and the city still needs you in the air. The recommendations for your squad-mates are what we're reviewing now."

Felina indicated the pile of folders between them on the table. "You get the list next, so you can choose who you want, but since you're here, are there any names you want added?"

Chance blinked at them several times before gathering enough thought to answer, and scrambled through his mind for anyone he actually thought he'd like to work with, and could survive being a SWAT Kat. "Felina Feral and Tanner Graytail."

"Told you." Felina actually smirked at her uncle before turning to Chance. "I was already on the list, but why Tanner?"

"He's a good detective." The tabby shrugged. "What kind of authority, autonomy, will I have?"

"As much autonomy as you do now." Feral nodded slightly. "And the authority of a Commander, my equal. While we do expect you to cooperate, SWAT is its own entity."

"Oh." he fell silent for a moment, then realized both Ferals were watching him expectantly. "I'll think about it." He turned and walked back to Marsa, trying very hard to comprehend a world turned upside down and inside out without his gunner and friend.

"You wanted to see me, Jake?" Sheir Kahn spoke softly as she sat down next to his bed.

"Did you know he was my pilot, Ka?" He stared straight into space. "That I was a gunner?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I knew."

"Do you know how we could be that, and not mates?" He rolled his head to one side to look at her. "I don't understand how that could be. He's willing. Why wouldn't I have offered?"

"I don't know." She smoothed his hair with gentle fingers. "But if he is willing now, and wishes to stay with you, does it actually matter?"

"Not really." He sighed and let his head roll back to a neutral position. "So what's been going on at HQ? How's the team now?"

Sheir Kahn smiled and chuckled softly before recounting the cases and adventures of the past ten years.

"Wow." Chance blinked as he took in the luxuriant, high tech interior of the Agrementh.

"She is something." Marsa grinned. "Are you interested in investigation with us or just piloting?"

"What good is a detective when you've got a Profiler?" He gave her a sharp look when she chuckled.

"A lot, really." She motioned to one of the padded leather chairs across from the desk before sitting herself. "Have a seat, I'll try to explain."

"Bout time someone explained something." He grumbled to himself.

"A Profiler, like Jake, uses a combination of psychological training, a wide breadth of knowledge, a gift for seeing what no one else does, and connecting the half invisible dots more than traditional clues to figure out who's doing what, and why."

She settled down for a long talk. "And while a Profiler can do some amazing things in the crime-solving area, it's only their word. Traditional detective work is still required to get the clues that lead to a conviction and to give the Profiler something to work with. No Profiler works well alone.

"That's why we have detectives, medical examiners, computer experts, mechanics, scientists, politicians, cops, former corporate CO's, pilots, crackers ... the broader the skill base available, the faster it goes."

"Okay ...."

Marsa cocked her head, one multicolored ear flopping slightly at the motion. "If you're at all interested, why don't you come along on his next mission? Profiling is something that is better seen than explained; especially the way Jake does it. He's extraordinary."

"I think I will." He nodded slowly. "Tell me about who my gunner was, and is now."

Marsa nodded easily and case a gaze at the ceiling. "Agrementh, would you create a hardcopy of Jake's personnel file for him, please?"

"Of course." A deeply resonate female voice responded from nowhere. "It will be done before you are."

"Who?" Chance looked around a little frantically for where the voice had come from.

"She the aircraft." Marsa smiled understandingly. "Agrementh is an artificial intelligence, and a member of our team."

"Oh." Chance swallowed that and nodded. "And who's Keller?"

"Keller was our third case, and the one that lasted the longest." She sighed unhappily. "He was your not so run of the mill psychopath that fixated on Jake, hunting Jake even as we hunted Keller.

"It was Keller who injured Jake and forced him to retire ten years ago. He lost his Profiling gift from the head injury. It seems that this injury turned it back on." She shrugged. "How that can work, I haven't a clue, but it happened."

Chance nodded quietly.

"But about Jake," she pressed her jaw in thought, "well, the raw facts are in the file you'll get. As a person, teammate and lover ... he's driven, fairly obsessive and take's the cases way too personally on the job. During downtime, he's playful, sensitive, caring, and he'll do nearly anything for his friends." She sighed. "He's a lot of things, most of which are contradictory, but when it comes right down to it, he'll do anything for those he calls friend."

He nodded and spoke softly, "some things that first injury didn't change."

"I'm not surprised." She smiled. "Just for my own curiosity, how open are you in your sexual relationships?"

"Hu?" Chance's eyebrows rose sharply.

"Well, most teammates are lovers." She smiled apologetically. "It's a cultural thing for us, one I'm pretty sure isn't normal here."

"Oh, I ..." his voice trailed off for a moment. "It depends on who, I guess."

"Just be up front, okay Chance?" She smiled gently. "A 'no' will be respected, but you have to say it."

"I ... understand."

"Report's ready." Agrementh informed them quietly.

"Thanks. Did I answer your question, Chance?" Marsa asked.

"I guess." He shrugged, more than a little overwhelmed.

She smiled gently. "Why don't we find out where your quarters are and you can read the report. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to call me, or ask in the morning." She stood and offered a hand up. "I'm going to be up."

"Thanks." He nodded and stood to follow her out. "I will."

Chance stared at the ceiling of his guest room in Cathedral and tried to make his mind work, to choose by morning which path his life would take.

And the stakes were impossibly high.

Commander Feral ... staying ... offered a girlfriend who understood his drive to protect and need for adrenaline, a command of his own, redemption in the public eye and acknowledgement of his deeds as T-Bone. It was the city and society he'd spent his entire life in and protecting.

Jake ... leaving ... offered the chance to be part of something even bigger than SWAT, and staying with the tom he still couldn't really conceive of not having in his life. Even the little he knew for sure about ExCRU told him they made a difference in a lot of lives. They actually brought criminals in and they stayed in.

But he'd have to walk away ... from what? A society that couldn't care less about him? Friends? Jake was his only real friend. Well, there was Callie ... but she and Jake ... he'd known long ago, if it came down to it, whose life he'd save if he had to choose. There were enough times he'd thought one or the other was dead, and losing Jake hurt much worse.

ExCRU offered him everything he'd dreamed of in being an Enforcer, and then a SWAT Kat, would be, and they were willing to pay him much better. And he could always come back.

But who'd protect the city?

Would it even matter? It wasn't like he could do the job without Razor and Razor was dead, even if Jake wasn't. Was it really his concern anymore?

But that left the city defenseless.

There had to be a way for it to work.

There just had to be.

"Hi, buddy." Jake greeted the tabby with a warm smile and pushed his breakfast tray to the side.

"You look a lot better," Chance tried to smile at the truth of the statement. Except for the eye patch, Jake looked almost completely healed. "Up for talking seriously?"

"Of course." Jake spent a moment arranging himself on the bed, sitting with the blankets pooled in his lap and his good eye locked on his former pilot. "You have questions?"

Chance swallowed and nodded. "I'm staying with you," he couldn't miss the pleased smile that crossed Jake face, "but I want something done to protect MKC without us."

"Khan's negotiating that now." Jake reached his hand out to rest on his partners. "The last ten years have apparently gotten Commander Feral and Miss Briggs to trust me, and those I trust, even with what's happened to me. It looks like I'll be heading the first ExCRU team in MegaKat City."

A slow smile crossed the tabby's face. "I can't argue with that."

"Welcome to ExCRU Felsia, Chance Furlong." Jake's voice was formally warm, but his touch was warmly friendly. "I'm glad you're on board."

Razor's Blade 1: Secrets and Silence Betrayed

R for Violence
Het Level is Low
Slash Level is
Femslash Level is Low
Herm Level is None

62 KB, Story is Complete, Series is Finished
Written August 7, 2001 by Rauhnee Ranshanka

Setting: ExCRU, SWAT Kats, Tale Spin

Primary Races: Kat

Contents: Furry. Het (M/F). Slash (M/M). Femslash (F/F). Alternate Universe, Violence

Pairings: None, really, though Jake/Chance is thought about.

Notes: Disclaimers: The SKs and Sher Kahn aren't mine (more's the pity), but TPTB weren't letting them play. The ExCRU stuff and about 90% of the characters and places are my creation. No profit involved. This could be original fic so easy it hurts, but I just don't feel right denying it's origins, or the true faces of those I don't own.

The first part of this story is a comic page by Blue Streak Lynx that he threw up on SWATKats_Adult with a challenge to finish as a short story. He also provided the series title. I provided this gathering of forces intro fic. Though it's not what I can particularly short ....

Notes: Now not only does this fur have to take my breath away (quite literally) with his art, but now he challenges SKA to finish his comic, that starts with Jake thinking he's in love with his partner. Do I really have to explain this thing's abrupt appearance any further?

It didn't turn out much like I expected, though. I think I'm starting to wonder back into original worlds again. It wouldn't be a bad thing, IMO.

I also better not regret letting them live. ~glares at Muses and whatever creates RL~

The ExCRU use more specific gender references than most.
'Hir' is a female looking hermaphrodite.
'Hem' is a male looking hermaphrodite.
'Irm' is a neuter or unknown.

First Annual Sanctuary Contest
Begins: June 6, 2001
Ends: August 11, 2001

My ten items were a long-haired fighter, a computer that has its own mind, a snow leopard, a telepath, an airplane, a wolf, handcuffs, an action hero, feathers and green silk.

Blurb: Jake's having a crisis of the heart and mind; one that injuries, Enforces and a dense partner just are not helping to settle quickly. Then some friends from his past and present decide they've stood by long enough and insert themselves into the situation. Somebody better explain what's going on to Chance before he snaps ....

Disclaimer: All things taken directly from the sources listed under 'Fandoms' belong to the owners of those shows. No harm is intended and we're definitely not making any money. Now, the things we created are ours, and if you see 'Non-FanFic' up there, it's probably all ours.

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