By Annu (M. E. Bartley) and Goth Devil Kitty

a_chan007@yahoo.com and gothdevilkitty@hotmail.com

Last updated: 09/07/05

Rating: T

Warnings: Some mild violence, light swearing, and implied sexual content may be found in various chapters.

Disclaimer: SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron, its characters and concepts are copyright 1993-95 Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc. and are used without permission. Any other characters not on the show are created by and the intellectual property of Annu (M. E. Bartley) and/or Goth Devil Kitty. Please do not use without permission.

Summary: Dark Kat and Turmoil, two of Megakat City’s greatest supervillains team up to try and take over Megakat City. Can these two stay a team to achieve their goal while dealing with employees, family and their own egos?

Author's Notes:

Goth Devil Kitty: This isn’t my first co-authored fan fiction. I’m the girlie formally known as ‘Storm’ on this archive. >.> But yeah….. Storm Hellsing is a product of my own attempts to understand Turmoil’s inner workings. (Same goes for The Hellsing Family that whole brood is just frakkin’ HUGE. ) I’m more then willing to take all the blame in this insane pairing, but I also blame A-chan for poking me with the evil plot bunny stick that spawned it. But hey, I still love her, so it’s all good.

Annu: This is my first co-authored fan fiction and I have to say it was fun co-writing with miz Goth Devil Kitty. Ideas were tossed around here and there and we both worked well with compromising and agreeing with this big ol’ chunk of a fic. Some of our own fan characters were brought in the mix purely for aiding in the relationship between Dark Kat and Turmoil, so you all get to see the more private lives of these two villains.

Eye of the Beholder

Chapter One: The Ties That Bind

It had been close to ten years since she was put into Alkatraz prison. From the start, the she kat known only as Turmoil had been subjected to beatings, torments and snide looks. For her, it was just normal. She’d go outside for yard detail or to spend her free time enjoying the sun. She’d come back into her cell beaten and bloody if she was lucky. If she wasn’t lucky, she’d end up in med bay for another few days.

In many ways, Turmoil wasn’t herself anymore, but then she wasn’t Storm Hellsing anymore either. Storm Hellsing was the name she had gone by since birth. Her parents were brilliant and knew all you could about the seedier parts of world, technology and even a few aspects of magic. However Storm got lost in a sea of military codes and uniforms and was ultimately hurt by a fellow Navy core soldier. She became Turmoil to shut all the things out that hurt her so much. Her Father’s sickness, her feeling that she had let her family and herself down... She became hardened and cold, something she never was in the first place. Soon ‘Turmoil’ seeped into her veins like a poison, taking over ‘Storm’.

Once she was arrested and sent to Alkatraz she finally broke down. She had been cracking long before she entered MKC airspace. Turmoil’s shell had been fractured when T-Bone came into her life. She let tiny wisps of Storm come up to the surface, to use T-Bone and sway him to her side. Her plan had failed and she paid for it. She was dumped into Alkatraz after a speedy trial. No evidence was found for her to try and fight the sentence they gave her. They slapped her with twenty counts of kat slaughter. Sentencing her to eventual death, for murders she didn’t commit. T-Bone had committed them, or so she saw it. He murdered some of her crew when his well hidden explosives went off to destroy her precious airship.

In prison, murderers are treated like trash. Used as punching bags by other prisoners. Turmoil’s own gender didn’t save her from such abuse. It only brought it on much thicker. In the time she had been in prison, she estimated that she had spent enough time to equal nearly one solid year in the med bay.

Over a dozen surgeries had been done to her to repair the damage. She was barely the striking beauty she was when she first came in. She didn’t care about being pretty when she was avoiding a beating. She would purposely smudge her face up with mud, ash, anything to make her simply fade away into the rest of the ‘homely’ looking she kat criminals in the yard. She even let her hair grow out. The hair had gotten thick and extremely curly as it grew over the years and even in a braid it would brush against the base of her tail.

Turmoil now walked along the tall chain link fence, staring at her feet. Out of nowhere a punch hit her lower back and she tumbled forward.

Her face was ground down into the foul smelling mud of the yard. When she tried to pull herself up, a foot slammed into the delicate valley between her shoulder blades. She didn’t bother to cry out in pain, since pain had long since stopped existing to her. Turmoil stared at the mud, feeling her anger come to a boiling point. Ten years she’s taken abuse, ten years of saying nothing to anyone. She had enough.

“And here I thought you’d be harder to take down,” The tom growled, digging his foot harder into her back.

“I am,” she growled.

In a movement much quicker then she intended, Turmoil snapped herself back into a standing position which knocked the tom backwards a bit. Before the tom could recover, she managed to land two well placed punches into his chest. She kept hammering him with punches and kicks, knowing this would most likely send her into solitary. She didn’t care. In no time the tom was half leaning against the chain link fence as she punched and kicked him. His face was bloody and several bruises could be seen developing on his arms from trying to block her onslaught.

“Turmoil!” another prisoner yelled.

Turmoil snapped her head around to the voice, and in return the tom lands a good punch to her face. A sickening ‘snap’ lets Turmoil know her nose is now dislocated for the third time. The prison guards were now filing out into the work yard, and Turmoil sinks to her knees, ready for them to shackle her up. When several moments passed she realized the guards shackled up the tom that attacked her.

“Turmoil,” one of the guards, a she kat said, “The Warden wants to see you. She says it’s important.”

She wiped her nose up and somehow found the strength to stand up again. She followed the she kat guard inside and up some shiny wooden stairs towards the Warden’s office. Once inside, the guard closed the door behind them. The Warden stood with her back to them, staring out into the work yard which tipped Turmoil off that the Warden had seen the fight she was in earlier.

“If this is about that fight earlier,” Turmoil began.

“That’s not why you’re here,” the Warden said. “The Parole board has been going through your trial records and the evidence against you. They found some… mistakes… made by your lawyer.”

Turmoil snorted. “So they going to slap another three life sentences onto the twenty I’m already serving?”

“No,” The warden answered, voice tight. “The evidence wasn’t processed correctly. You weren’t responsible for your crew’s death. Several malfunctions on your airship had been the actual cause.”

Turmoil blinked. “Then what the hell are you intending to do? Keep me on Death Row?”

“No,” The Warden replied. “You are being transferred into a lower security room, closer to med bay.”

Turmoil just stared at the Warden like she was crazy. “If this is some kind of sick joke, I’m not laughing,” she said.

The Warden half turned to her, the old she kat’s dark gray hair and eyes looked tired in the bright light. “This isn’t a joke, Miss Hellsing,” The Warden said. “You have clearly become a victim of a corrupted court system. This incident will be straightened out by your Parole hearing next month.”

Turmoil was taken by the use of her real last name. “I suppose now is where I leave and pack up my things and wait for further instruction?”

“Yes. You’ll be moved after lights out tonight,” The Warden said.

Turmoil raised her eyebrow but said nothing.

“Have a good evening, Miss Hellsing,” The Warden said, turning back to look out the window.

Turmoil found herself being escorted back out by the she kat prison guard.

Several Hours Later:

Turmoil lay on top of her bunk, arms behind her head. Lights Out had happened close to two hours earlier, but there hadn’t been any motions to show Turmoil would move rooms. She chalked this up to the Warden lying yet again about promises she can’t or won’t keep.

Her eyes were already starting to droop close when a low chittering could be heard. Turmoil’s eyes snapped open and she sat up trying to place the location of the sound. A pair of small pink arms appeared around one of the bars of her cell window. When she got up to look, she noticed there were two small pink winged creatures placing plastic explosives on key points in the window.

She let out a curse, snatched up her duffel bag and took cover behind her desk. A sharp explosion echoed in the room followed by a big cloud of dust and debris. The dust had settled enough that Turmoil felt safe enough to stand again. The two same pink creatures were flapping their wings at the now gaping maw that used to be her window. They were making chittering and creeing sounds as they gestured towards the night air outside. She inched towards the great hole and saw a large pontoon boat twenty feet below, bobbing up and down in the currents.

“You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed.

The two pink creatures chittered more. Turmoil glanced at them, then to the pontoon boat below. She took in a deep breath and walked back to her barred door. After a moment of hesitation she tore off running, letting out a small yelp with effort of leaping out of the gaping hole. She landed in the back of the pontoon boat knees first, the impact sending waves of pain through her legs and back.

But she was free. The boat tore off in the water nearly the instant she landed and she tried hard to keep herself standing as she made her way towards the wheel house. She found what seemed to be two dozen more chittering pink creatures inside, along with a tall tom kat in a black hooded cape with red detailing. On his left shoulder was what would be a shield to an average tom, but to him a simple brooch with the letter ‘D’ carved on it and filled with red enamel. A purple tail swished back and forth with the tom’s deep focus in the steering of the boat. Two purple rather large sized pointed ears jutted out from the sides of the tall tom’s hood.

Turmoil looked at the tom’s reflection in the wheel house windows and found herself staring right at the one villain she never expected to meet, Dark Kat. She remained quiet, sitting in one of the old worn seats in the cabin. Mentally preparing herself for a conversation she knew she wasn’t looking forward to.

Dark Kat finally pulled the pontoon boat into a nondescript dock and his kreeplings tied the guide ropes to the docks. Turmoil watched the small creatures with a good amount of interest until she found Dark Kat’s towering form come towards her. She could hear the boat’s engines powering down, and she rolled her neck happy to hear several pops go through it.

“Are you well enough to walk, my dear?” Dark Kat asked.

Turmoil didn’t like the ‘my dear’ part of his sentence, but bit her tongue. “I’ll live, if that’s what you mean.”

He smirked at her. “That’s not what I meant but that will suffice. This way if you please.”

She nodded and followed him off the boat. The dock he had chosen to use was run down and weathered, but still in working order. He led her through a confusing path up onto the main dock. Dark Kat then entered what she had thought was an empty warehouse.

Once inside she realized it wasn’t an empty warehouse. There were crates upon crates filled with various things from weapons to art. Turmoil raised an eyebrow.

“Don't think I don't appreciate your hospitality, Dark Kat, but what exactly are your motives for breaking me out?” she asked.

He glanced back over his shoulder to look at her a moment. “Why, for an alliance, Turmoil. Let's go to my office and discuss such matters.”

She followed him up a set of thick metal stairs to some offices that took up the warehouse’s second open floor. They walked into a somewhat blandly decorated room, and Dark Kat sat down at the only desk in the room.

“Have a seat,” he said.

She sat down in the only chair in front of the desk. It felt very odd being in his presence. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, like something just wasn’t right with how he watched her. She rubbed one of her ankles to keep her eyes off him for a bit.

“I was quite impressed with your efforts to blackmail Megakat City those years ago,” he finally spoke after a long moment of silence.

She attempted to chuckle, but it turned out to be more like a snort.

“Yeah, I suppose you are. It's a shame I was too naive to realize that letting my lesser emotions overrule my plans would be a very stupid mistake,” she said.

“Lesser emotions?” Dark Kat asked, leaning back his chair. “So it's true that one of those SWAT Kats had tricked you by playing with your emotions?”

“Like a finely tuned violin in a concerto,” she commented as her ears flattened against her head. She narrowed her eyes at him, not liking this conversation. However she knew there would be no way around it. He in turn was sneering at her.

“I take it you wish to have your revenge on him and his partner?” he asked.

Turmoil didn’t let her expression change. “Why ask questions to which you already know the answer to?”

“To make a point. You're aware of my dealings with those two jerks in flight suits,” Dark Kat answers. “I also seek revenge against the SWAT Kats. Only after their destruction can I take over Megakat City and turn it into my capitol of crime.”

She gave a curt nod. “So I've noticed. And all your plans in the past failed miserably, including a previous alliance with a few other villains. You really aren't a sociable tom are you?”

She made sure venom laced her words. He didn’t seem to notice it.

“If you're concerned with my double crossing you as I had the others, do not worry. I have no intentions of doing so... provided you even help me to begin with,” he said.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she said propping her feet up on the desk, testing him. “You don't expect me to don an apron and become 'Suzy Homemaker' do you?”

“No I do not. I'm in no need for such a position,” he said frowning at her feet propped up on his desk. He motioned for her to remove them.

“That's good. I tend to poison food as it is,” Turmoil said as she let her feet slip off the desk with a smirk. “As proof of my...ahem...'desire' to help you, I'll whip up some kind of rolling death machine. Will that saint you for awhile?”

He grinned anew at her comment. “That will suffice. It is what I was going to ask of you. I have something in the works already, but it needs the inventive mind of another.”

“Sure. I'll take a peek. I'm always up for challenges. Is this thing still a lump of metal or does it resemble a shape?” she asked, getting up.

He stood up as well. “It resembles a shape, but it needs corrections. I hear one of your many specialties is engines. I'd like you to take a look to see if we can get more speed with this vehicle.”

“Fair enough,” Turmoil said, shrugging a shoulder.

“By the way, do you require any sort of medical attention? I can have someone fix any wounds,” Dark Kat said casually without any real concern in his voice.

“I’m fine. Thanks for the offer though. I’ve suffered worse injuries then this,” Turmoil replied, waving it off.

“Very well,” he said as he walked to the door.

Dark Kat opened the door and Turmoil followed him out and down the heavy metal stairs. As they walked farther down Turmoil noticed what looked to be a half finished air jet past some of the crates. There’s a work bench against the wall with tools scattered about alongside some blue prints. Once they reach ground level, a pair of orange red furred legs could be seen underneath the jet, wearing spiked black heels.

“I see you already have a resident tech with you, Dark Kat,” Turmoil said, folding her arms in front of her chest.

“I have many kats who work for me from time to time. This one's lasted the longest. Jenna!” He barked to the she kat under the jet.

Soon those legs kicked out from underneath the jet, and a she kat rolled out on small roller skid. The she kat is wearing a white lab coat over a short black skirt and skimpy red top that showed her cleavage underneath. She has red orange hair pulled back in a bun save for some of her hair at the sides which drape her shoulders.

“Dark Kat you’re,” the she kat trailed off, seeing Turmoil. “….back.” The she kat’s tone at ‘back’ sounded disappointed.

“Turmoil, this is Professor Jenna Clawson. Jenna, this is Turmoil,” Dark Kat said, gesturing with a hand.

Turmoil raised an eyebrow at this. “Professor Clawson? Alright.” She chewed at her bottom lip a little, noticing Jenna’s racy attire.

“Yes. Professor,” Jenna said, walking over.

“Turmoil will be assisting in this project,” Dark Kat explained. “She may be able to figure out a way to make the engines give us quicker speed.”

Jenna was clearly not pleased about this. “She’s what?”

“You sound so charmed to hear that, Professor. Trust me I'm not any form of competition for you. I'm sure you're thinking I am,” Turmoil said, slightly grumbling.

“I'm not threatened by the likes of YOU,” Jenna scoffed.

Dark Kat sighed at the exchange. “I expect you to get along with Turmoil. You could learn some things from her even. I'll let you explain to her what we've done so far on this project.”

“But Dark Darling I-,” Jenna began.

“This isn't a request!” Dark Kat growled interrupting her. “Do as I say.”

Jenna looked quickly away from him at that. “Fine... whatever you say,” she replied quietly.

Turmoil looked from Jenna to Dark Kat all during this little exchange, taking in and filing away the snippets of info it gave her. “For the sake of your goals Dark Kat, I'll tolerate anything short of getting dipped in hot wax,” Turmoil said deadpanned.

Dark Kat chuckled at her comment. “I assure you, nothing of the kind will occur. I'll be in my office should you need me, Turmoil.”

Turmoil looked at him, as if saying ‘You’re leaving me with her?’ in her expression. “Alright. Hopefully Professor Clawson here won't try to brand me with her arch wielder,” Turmoil retorted.

He seemed not to care, as he made his way back up the stairs towards his office. Jenna huffed and walked over to the table where the blue prints were on. Turmoil follows her, fiddling with the zipper of her prison jumpsuit.

“Are you the same Professor Clawson from Puma-dyne?” Turmoil asked, eyebrow raised.

Jenna looked to be shocked Turmoil would know that. “Yes...” she slowly replied, “I used to work there. You've heard of me before?”

“My Padre worked there some time ago. I'm not sure if he does anymore. And yes, I've heard of you. Quite the reputation you have,” Turmoil said, glancing at one of the blue prints.

“And your father was...?” Jenna asked, gesturing with a hand.

“Leon Hellsing,” Turmoil answered.

“Hmm... don't know if he's still there now. I met him once or twice. I hated it there. No one appreciated my genius!” Jenna exclaimed.

Turmoil blinked, making a mental note that Jenna was quite possibly more psychotic the she was. Jenna hrmphed and flicked her hair back.

“I don't care who you are or who your father is, but I'm the only tech kat he needs,” Jenna said, looking Turmoil up and down.

Turmoil put her hands up in a ‘surrender’ pose. “Look, once I'm done with what he asks I have no intention of staying here. Toms and I have horrible history together. Much less a tall purple one with a strange girlfriend like yourself,” she snapped.

A bright flush developed in Jenna’s cheeks under her orange red fur at that. “We're not exactly a couple. Yet. And you better continue the bad history with toms because I won't have you ruining what might be.”

Turmoil groaned inwardly. “Just show me the rest of the bloody blue prints.”

“We're halfway completed with this jet,” Jenna said, smirking. “It will be as well equipped if not more so than the SWAT Kats' jet.”

Turmoil took the jet blue print from Jenna. She studied it for a few moments. Jenna went on to describe the project, going into great detail. It was starting to bore Turmoil to tears.

“The engines you want to use will burn out too quickly. Mach 6 engines have a horrible habit of blowing up. Even using their bare parts is tricky,” Turmoil said, pointing to them. “It would be best to build new engines from scrap.”

“I knew that!” Jenna exclaimed. “But he wants this thing to go much faster.”

Turmoil ignored her outburst. “He should have considered the delicate dance called ‘counter balancing’ and weight. Besides being total pieces of crap, Mach 6 engines are bulky and don’t even the jet’s weight out.”

Jenna narrowed her eyes, knowing Turmoil had a point. “Then I'll leave you in charge of that since it's what Darky- er Dark Kat wants you to do.”

Turmoil smirked at the ‘Darky’ part. “If it gets me out of his debt sooner,” Turmoil stated. She then mumbled, “And away from the Psycho.” She walked towards the tool bench where nearby a pile of jet engine pieces had been set aside

“What was that?” Jenna asked, barely catching what Turmoil mumbled.

“Nothing. I'll get to work on those engines,” Turmoil answered, kneeling. She scanned the parts and tools as she pushed up her sleeves and tied her hair into a messy bun at the back of her head. Turmoil got started by picking out her needed tools out of Jenna’s unorganized tool box.

“How long have you been his lackey?” Turmoil asked, purposely poking at Jenna’s pride.

Jenna noticeably stiffened. “I am NOT a mere LACKEY to him,” she growled.

“What ever makes you sleep at night. How long?” Turmoil asked. She pulled a jet engine main drive shaft towards herself.

Jenna scowled at Turmoil’s comment and walked over to the jet, making herself busy by fussing with the wires that stuck out of the wing. “A few years now. Why?” she asked.

“I'm attempting to make conversation. That's why,” Turmoil said, pulling off several plates from the drive shaft. “And in all honesty, this has been the first conversation, save the one I had with Dark Kat five minutes ago, that hasn't ended with me getting beaten senseless for being Turmoil.”

Jenna doesn’t look back at her, she simply keeps working on the wires. “Why would you get beaten for being Turmoil? I'd think one such as yourself would be queen of Alkatraz,” Jenna said, dripping with sarcasm. “Or is half of your crew that is in there angry with such a poor leader?”

Turmoil growled at ‘crew’ and narrowed her eyes. “Apparently T-Bone has been counted as a 'hunk' among the she kats in that place, despite he and his partner Razor being responsible for them being there. Some of my crew are dead, no thanks to T-Bone.”

“T-Bone? A HUNK?” Jenna laughed.

Turmoil’s ears flattened against her head. “Coming from a woman who lusts after a tall purple tom with a bear trap for a mouth, that makes me laugh.”

Jenna hissed and turned to Turmoil, shaking her pliers at her. “Don't you dare speak of Dark Kat in such a manner. Be grateful he got your sorry tail out of there and show respect!”

Turmoil looked like she was ready jump onto Jenna and beat her into dust. However, she didn’t act on her desire and simply turned back around to continue working on the drive shaft. Jenna smirked thinking she’s won, and turned her back to Turmoil.

Another she kat came into the room and leaned up against a tall stack of crates. She had purple hair with gray fur and orange eyes. She was dressed in a blood red corset and low rise black jeans with holes in the knees. She wore no shoes which aided in her quiet unnoticeable arrival. The she kat watched Turmoil a few moments. Turmoil stares at Jenna, her right eye twitching very noticeably.

“Hey. You. Turmoil,” the new she kat said finally, as she made her presence known.

Turmoil whipped her head around. The new she kat looked to be inspecting her visually, probably looking for any injuries. Turmoil clenched one of her fists and got up, not quite paying attention to the dark spot that was slowly becoming visible on one of her pants legs.

“How many she kats are in this damn place?!” Turmoil asked, growling.

“Too many,” Jenna mumbled.

“Oh shut up Jenna,” The gray she kat snapped, annoyed. She then looked at Turmoil again. “Two. Well three counting you now apparently. Pops says he wants me to patch you up or some crud.”

Turmoil felt her head was going to explode with all the new information she’s already learned. Hearing the she kat say ‘Pops’ made her realize that Dark Kat was indeed a tom and semi-normal, just like the rest of the kind she hated so much.

“Fine. Are there any clothes I can change into?” Turmoil asked, gesturing to her jump suit.

“That was one of the other things I'm to get you. C'mon, follow me,” the she kat said, then motioned for Turmoil to follow.

The she kat and Jenna exchanged heated looks while Turmoil had her back turned. She followed the gray she kat away from the work area, and once she’s far enough Turmoil hisses. The she kat thinks the hiss is directed towards her and raises and eyebrow.

“What's yer damage?” the she kat asked.

“Wasn't directed towards you, but towards that piece of work who's trying to be Dark Kat's little lap kitten,” Turmoil answered, gesturing with a thumb. “Jenna’s her name if I remember correctly.”

The she kat laughed at that and led Turmoil to a small room. She flipped on the light after entering.

“She's an annoying little priss,” the she kat said, picking up a first aid kit from the desk in the room. The she kat pointed to the bed. “Sit over there.”

Turmoil did as she was requested. She unzipped and pulled down the top part of her jumpsuit, revealing a dark gray ‘racer back’ tank top. Several tiny wisps of scars and burns littered her arms, alongside some fresh wounds that looked like road rash. She also pulled up the pants leg of her injured leg.

The she kat’s eyes widen a bit at the amount of scarring on Turmoil. “Dang, the heck happened to you?”

“It's called me versus a twenty foot jump. I lost,” Turmoil quipped. “....that's my leg at least. Everything else was from angry kats in prison.”

“You mean Pops didn't use a plane or somethin' for your escape?” the she kat asked, shaking her head and began cleaning the wound on Turmoil’s leg.

“No. He used some kind of boat. It appeared he just threw the plan together out of a spur of the moment,” Turmoil replied, watching her.

“I wouldn't say that,” the she kat stated. She then began applying ointment and bandages to Turmoil’s leg. “Sometimes he just doesn't give a crud about others. Or maybe it was the best way to get you outta there.”

“Very likely. Dark Kat's your Father?” Turmoil asked.

“Yeah. Name's Felony by the way,” the she kat said.

“I just go by Turmoil now. I don't exactly deserve my real name anymore,” Turmoil said.

Felony gets up on the bed and Turmoil moved closer to the edge. Felony began to inspect her back, looking for any more wounds needing taking care of.

“Why's that?” Felony asked, gently touching a healing scrape on Turmoil’s shoulder with ointment.

“Dad was an intelligent inventor. Instead of following him to work at Puma-Dyne I chose the Russian Navy. Look where that got me,” Turmoil answered.

“A beat up ex-con? Or an awesome she kat who had this city at its knees?” Felony asked, putting some smaller bandages on a few smaller cuts on Turmoil’s shoulder.

Turmoil chuckled at Felony’s statement. “I was maybe overzealous when I came to this city, but I should be thankful I guess.”

“Thankful for what?” Felony asked.

Turmoil had the feeling that normally Felony wasn’t this chatty to Dark Kat’s hired help. “Thankful to be out of Alkatraz. That place eats away at your sanity. And the idea of getting even with T-Bone is making me pretty content.”

Felony slipped off the bed and replaced some items back into the first aid kit and closed it. “T-Bone? You mean it was a SWAT Kat that caused you to loose yer airship and stuff?” she asked, going towards a tall metal cabinet in the room.

“Yes. I blame it on the bitter loneliness that can develop when you're alone. I should have realized converting a hero into a villain hardly works and vise versa.”

Felony pulled some jeans and a tee shirt from the tall cabinet. “I've learned that messin' around with someone can lead to nothin' but trouble.” She offered the clothing to Turmoil who gently took it. “Besides, no tom's worthy of my time and effort,” Felony said, grinning.

“I agree with you. Attachment creates weakness,” Turmoil said, looking at the clothing.

“A weakness tom kats don't seem to ever have,” Felony said, leaning against the table. “Least the ones I've run into.”

Turmoil knew that feeling all too well. “Can you excuse me for a moment? I need to change clothes.”

“Sure thing,” Felony said. “Pops said this is gonna be your room by the way. If you want me to show you around or somethin', I'm a couple doors down and to the right.” She pushed herself off the table and started walking towards the door.

“Actually, I’d like for you to show me around now,” Turmoil replied. “I’ll just be a moment.”

“Okay. I'll be outside the door then,” Felony said before exiting.

Felony shut the door behind herself. Turmoil quickly changed into the clothing, tossing her jumpsuit into the trash. The jeans were just slightly too big, and hung at her hips. The tee shirt fit well enough to do for the time being. She left the room and found Felony leaning against the wall next to the door, inspecting her claws.

“Ready?” Felony asked.

“Yeah. Lead away, Felony,” Turmoil said.

They walked out of the small hallway and towards another large space in the warehouse. More crates and a few sedans were in that area.

“Well those rooms for the most part are where Pops, Jenna, and myself stay in. For now anyway. He tends to move lairs every so often if the Enforcers or SWAT Kats become aware of where he's at,” Felony explains as they walk along.

Turmoil nodded and kept quietly glancing around as they walked. There were several kreeplings scattered around the room, playing, eating or even just sleeping. Most looked up and over at Turmoil as she and Felony passed by.

“Kreeplings mill about all the time, but don't worry, they don't bite. Usually,” Felony said, smirking.

Turmoil chuckled.

“All of these crates are weapons, equipment, stolen goods, explosives, etc. etc. etc. Just don't mess with 'em unless Pops asks you to. Up there is Pops' office as you know, over there is the work area where he's chosen to make some stupid jet and some fancy detonators, and the exits are here, here, here and there,” Felony said, pointing to each.

“Handy little operation you all have here. I'm assuming Dark Kat probably dabbles in the black market and the mob too,” Turmoil said, folding her arms in front of her chest.

Felony smirked again. “Of course. He's got his paw into lots of pies. Even a few insider Enforcers.”

“All the bases covered. I expected as much. He has quite the reputation in Alkatraz,” she replied. They returned to the same room Turmoil changed in.

“I bet he does. Most escapes from that place are to his name,” Felony replied.

“How true,” Turmoil said, glancing at the door. “I wonder how long his alliance with me will last. Given how his past ones have fared.”

“Dunno. Yer different from those other super villains he worked with though,” Felony said, shrugging.

“I should get some rest. This has been one hell of a day,” Turmoil said.

“Sure.” Felony nods, her face getting serious. “Just make sure your allegiance is sincere with him.”

Turmoil thought it was a threat for the briefest moment, but felt no hostility coming from Felony when she said it. Her ears drooped down.

“Every allegiance I've made in my life has been full of sincerity. In the past that's been a rather difficult thing to let go of,” she said, her tone soft. “Call it my greatest weakness.”

Felony gave the slightest grin. “If you decide to overcome that weakness, wait until you leave here.”

“Yeah…” Turmoil trailed off, silent for a few seconds. “Call me old fashioned.”

“Well, 'night Old Fashioned,” Felony said with a half wave.

She turned towards her room and Turmoil’s ears perked up. High above them, staring down at them out of one of his office windows was Dark Kat, who had been watching the exchange. He was unable to hear what they were saying though.

“If you want, you can call me Stormie. Turmoil's the name I use for business,” Turmoil said.

Felony glanced over her shoulder, “Stormie? That short for somethin' or a nick name?”

“Nickname for 'Storm'. I think my mother had too much 'nip when she was deciding what to name me,” Turmoil answered.

“I dunno... I like it,” Felony grinned, “But who am I to judge names? It's obvious what Pops wanted me to do with my name.”

“Then when it's not out robbing or maiming kats, it's Storm,” Turmoil said with a smirk.

“Cool,” Felony said, walking to her door. “Later Storm.”

Felony walked into her room and closed the door. Turmoil glanced up and noticed Dark Kat still watching her. She resisted the urge to give him the finger and decided that going to bed would be the much better course of action. She turned and went into her new room. Once inside she crawled under the covers and began to have herself a good cry.

Something told her staying in prison would have been a far better idea then working with Dark Kat.