Chapter 4

"We've got gremlins on our six!"

Tom tightened his grip on the steering column and tried to calm his breath. He glanced at the Turbokat's displays and flipped a few switches. The jets roared and the cockpit rumbled as he increased speed. The radar display showed their little triangle speeding away from the cluster of red dots behind them.

"Plan to out run them, Tex?"

Jake's question made Tom feel uneasy. Was that the right thing to do? "Tryin ta get some distance so ya can line up the shot better."

"Don't forget the main objective."

"Right, right." Tom twisted to look at the monstrous being on his left. A giant reptile the size of a skyscraper was stomping across the desert wasteland towards the city in the distance. They had to take it down before it caused real damage. Tom's heart pounded as he turned the fighter jet, his stomach shifting as they banked to the right.

Tom heard Jake clicking away at his controls.

"Launching Flash Missiles."

Tom's eyes widened in shock as the pursuing enemies came into view. Over a dozen flying creatures were hot in pursuit! It was far more than what he'd expected. Gritting his teeth, and steeling his nerve, he watched as a single missile streaked towards the small cloud of enemies. A cone of blinding light blasted the targets and scattered the flock. Feeling safer, Tom twisted the stick back towards the main objective and glared at it.

"Got any ideas, Tex?"

Tom bit his lip. He wanted to just fire a regular missile at it, but there had to be a more… creative way to deal with this thing.

"We got bolo missiles?"

There was an uncomfortably long silence as Jake tapped away at his counsel.

"Sure."

"Then let's take out his legs and put this giant geko down!" Tom shouted, trying to mask his fear and uncertainty with enthusiasm.

A pair of missiles launched from the Turbokat's underbelly and streaked towards the creature's feet. Tom couldn't see any sort of ropes, but the missiles seemed to wrap around the monster's legs. The creature took another step and the rockets went flying, presumably because the cable keeping them together had snapped.

Tom slapped the console and rubbed his face. He knew the regular missile was the better idea! Okay, okay, he couldn't panic, he needed to keep cool. He just needed-

A red alert blared and opened up a window on the canopy.

"Presence detected in garage," it read.

"Sorry, Tom, looks like we'll need to put this on hold."

The window went black and the cockpit shuddered as the simpod set itself down. The cockpit's canopy opened with a whoosh. Tom, disappointed and frustrated, pulled himself out. He hopped to the ground and sighed as he looked at the machine behind him, "So, how bad was I doin this time?"

Jake, sitting at a set of consoles beside the machine, stood up and cracked his knuckles, "We'll talk about that later. For now, let's see who's messing around upstairs."

Tom nodded and followed Jake to the elevator, but not before glancing at the console's screen. His brow furrowed at the score displayed. His pilot score was even worse than last time, and he hadn't even fully finished! What was he doing wrong?

"You coming?"

"Yeah," Tom sighed hopping into the lift.

Before the doors closed he longingly stared at the large, black jet on the other end of the hanger. With every day he was feeling less and less worthy to fly such a powerful machine.

"I don't even have a tenth of Chance's skills," Tom muttered.

"You're setting your standards a little high there. Most pilots can't even come close to Chance," Jake said, patting Tom on the back.

"So, I'm just average?" Tom grumbled.

Jake said, with a kind smile, "Considering you've never had Enforcer training, you're doing pretty well."

"How am I supposed ta replace Chance with my mediocre skills though?"

Jake looked at his protégé with a curious look, "You're not supposed to be replacing Chance, Tom."

The lift shook as it came to a stop and the two pilots quietly slipped into the garage.

Chance's butt was sticking out of the fridge, and his tail was swishing back and forth, "Hey, where's the milk!"

"Jake drank the last one," Tom quickly sold out Jake with little guilt.

Jake shot Tom a menacing glance, "Right, but you were supposed to restock."

"I got distracted, I've been workin in the sim-" Tom cut himself short upon realizing there was a fourth person in the room.

A she-kat was lounging on the couch, uninterestedly flipping through channels on the TV. Her short black hair was swept to the side, and a white tank top clung to her body. A grey jacket hung off the back of the couch, with a yellow Enforcer symbol embroidered on the shoulder.

"-ple thangs… you know… those ones."

Who was this? Why was she here? He quickly scanned her for more details. Tufts of white fur hung beside her cheeks, but she looked to be around his age. Orange strips went horizontally across her forearm and upper arm, sort of like Chance…

Chance closed the fridge door and slapped Tom's shoulder, "Tom, this is Cathy. Cathy, this is Tom."

"Uh, nice to meet ya," Tom walked forward and extended his right hand for a handshake.

Cathy glared at the outstretched hand and raised her right arm. A shiver went down Tom's spine as she raised a handless nub from behind the couch.

"I, um, sorry, ma'am," Tom withdrew and awkwardly coughed into his hand, "So, yer Chance's daughter?"

"I guess that's all I'm known for," Cathy growled.

Tom opened his mouth to tell her he knew she'd lost her hand when the Enforcers got attacked, but he knew her name even before that. Chance went on and on about how his daughter had passed boot camp at the top of her class, how Cathy had been the top ranked pilot in her squad, and the list of accomplishments would go on and on. With everything he'd heard, Tom couldn't help but think she'd make a far better SWAT Kat than him.

"I don't know, yer Pa says yer a real good softball player," Tom said, finally coming up with a comeback, "I think that's pretty noticeable."

Cathy sat up, "Not throwing under hand anymore," a small smile slipped from under her gloomy expression, "not yet anyway!" She leaned over and snagged something from behind the couch. In one swift motion Cathy had slid her arm into a thin tube device.

"Is that what I think it is?" Jake asked, practically leaping on the couch.

"I don't know, Uncle Jake," Cathy teased, "is it my new hand?!"

Servos whirred as the mechanical fingers twitched to life. Tom was impressed, but not nearly as much as Jake. The older kat was acting like he'd never seen a hand before. True, this hand was made of metal, but still. It looked somewhat crude, like it was made from… scrap. Right.

Tom turned to Chance, "No offense, sir, but why is she here?"

"Can't a kat take his daughter to work with him?" Chance said, "I knew Jake would get a kick out of her hand," he put his fist to his mouth, "and I wanted to show her around where she'd be working," he coughed.

Tom pursed his lips.

Jake looked up from Cathy's prosthetic with a knit brow, "You didn't say anything about that to me."

"I- well- are you really going to deny your goddaughter a job?" Chance nervously smiled.

Jake's expression softened, "Of course not, but still."

Tom nervously rubbed his thumb against the side of his pointer finger.

"Tom, can you show Cathy around the yard while Chance and I talk about this," Jake asked.

"Yeah, sure thing, boss."

Cathy grabbed her jacket and followed after the big kat. Guy was built like a linebacker. He was a head taller than her father, and just as broad as her granduncle. His grey fur was broken up by tiger like stripes that disappeared down his collar.

"Is yer hand okay?" Tom asked, glancing down at her. "It's freakin out."

Cathy glanced down at her rapidly twitching hand. She gripped the base and adjusted it so the sensors were better aligned. Once the twitching had stopped, Cathy tightened the strap that kept the prosthetic on. "Sorry, forgot to recalibrate it when I put it back on. I'm still getting used to it, Jessie's been helping me practice with it. I can juggle… sort of."

"Jessie, hm?" To be honest, Tom hadn't really expected the stringy kat to actually make something like that. Sure, he'd hear about Jessie's ideas, but he'd never seen them come to fruition.

"Yup," Cathy raised her robotic limb for Tom to see, "He's working on making it nicer looking too. Problem is, his mom won't let him get anymore Pumadyne stuff."

"Why not just use the scrap here?"

"Probably wants to make sure it's quality stuff," she gingerly rubbed the mechanical hand, lovingly tracing the hinges and joints. "You've probably heard a lot about me, knowing my dad. So, what about you?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders, "Me? Well, there ain't much to me really. Pretty dull, actually, especially compared to you."

"We can start with your accent," Cathy said, "Not many kats around here sound like they'd be going to a hoedown."

Nonplussed, Tom sighed, "I come from a small town just outside Megakat, Cherry Hill."

"Never heard of it."

"It ain't called a small town because we make news headlines every day." Tom growled.

"Yeesh, I didn't mean anything by it," Cathy huffed.

Tom exhaled and tried to calm down, "Sorry, I just don't like thinking about that place."

"Why not?"

He thought long and hard about what to say… "You know, the usual TV reasons. Place is small and cramped, also had nip problem. It just wasn't as nice as you might think."

"Well, you got any hobbies?" Cathy asked, leaning up against the hood of an upturned car half buried in scrap.

"I used to box."

"Oooh, let me guess, lightweight?"

The burly grey cat folded his thick arms and smirked, "Some of the heavy weights wished I was, that way they'd have an actual shot at the title."

"What was your hardest punch?" Cathy asked, pushing herself off the car.

Tom's smirk dropped, "That isn't important."

Brow raised, Cathy pressed on, "Isn't important? I thought punching power was the most important thing in boxing."

"You've also got your foot work, blocking, being able to keep on the right side of the match's rhythm. It doesn't matter how hard ya punch if ya can't get the upper hand of yer opponent," Tom explained.

Cathy shrugged, "I don't know man, the Enforcers trained us in Clawkata." she tapped the exposed hood, "I bet you can't make a dent in this though."

Nonplused, Tom looked at Cathy with disbelief, "You ever stood on a car's hood? Thing buckles real easy."

"Hm? I'm not hearing a yes." Cathy leaned forward, hands on her hips and tail flicking about mischievously.

"You could dent it."

"But can you?"

Tom glanced heaven words, mumbling unintelligibly, and took off his coat. Giving in to peer pressure, he wrapped itaround his right fist, "Move."

With a grand gesture, Cathy stepped back.

Getting into a boxing stance, Tom put up his fists and tightened his body. He bounced on the balls of his feet and made a few practices punches.

"Would you just punch it already!

He glared at her and rolled his shoulders. Satisfied with his warm up, Tom let out a powerful right hook that shot out like a bullet. The sound of screeching metal and vibrating steel echoed throughout the yard. The car's hood crumbled like tissue paper and formed a large crater on impact. He smirked at the impressed look on Cathy's face. However, the sense of pride he felt was quickly smothered by the squealing of shifting alloy. He watched on in horror as the metal hill toppled over, thankfully away from them.

It collided with the next pile in the row, creating a domino effect down the line. Tom felt his gut drop out and his blood run cold. Of course, this would happen. Nothing good ever happened when he let his full-strength show. He glanced at Cathy, who's face was scrunched up. The fur on the back of her neck stood upwards, and her body was tensed. Tom at least found comfort in knowing she was aware of her responsibility in the mess.

"I… did not see that com-"

A pained yell cut Cathy off.

"Jake!" They both said, fear gripping their hearts.

The two young kats made a mad dash towards Jake's cry. Cathy sprung off of Tom's back and leapt to the junk heap's top. Like an anime ninja, she jumped from junk to junk until she found herself looking over her dad and uncle. From there she hopped forward and nimbly ran to her godfather. A larger girder lay nearby.

"Uncle Jake!"

Jake was on the ground gripping his shoulder teeth grit into a pained grimace. He glanced at Cathy and feigned a smile, "Hey, nice moves Cat."

"Come on, buddy, let's get you up," Chance said, trying to help Jake to his feet.

Jake grit his teeth as pain racked his body. He let out a wheeze that made Chance faulter.

"What happened?" Cathy asked, trying to aid Jake.

"A girder fell from the pile," Jake hissed, "Almost fell on Chance."

Cathy bit her thumb, her teeth grinding on the metal.

"Hey!" Tom cried out, running down to them, "What happened?!"

"A girder hit Jake's shoulder," Cathy said, eyeing the scrap around them. What else around here could end up falling on them?

Tom hurried to Jake's side, "Let me see, boss." He gingerly caressed Jake's arm. "Can ya move your arm, sir?"

"No."

Tom turned to the others, "Cathy, grab some ice, or anything else that's cold! Chance, get an ambulance over here."

"On it!" Father and daughter replied, heading off towards the garage.

Quickly, Tom flung off his jacket and unzipped his blue-grey jumpsuit. He wriggled his undershirt free and tore it into one large trip. He set to work on his make shift sling, wishing he'd chosen to wear a long-sleeved shirt today. Quickly, but gently, he pinned his beloved employer's arm to his side. The makeshift sling would work until a real doctor could help.