Jet Jaguar

He loved times like these.

Since 1973, he had been forced to hibernate for years on end. As far as anyone knew, Godzilla had repulsed Gigan and Megalon single-handedly that year, and the force that had tried to guide Megalon to Tokyo was a government prototype that had since been scrapped. The Japanese government had done an excellent job covering the truth up from the world.

Like Serizawa before him, Goro had been forced to hide his brilliant invention from the world at large, in desperate hopes that the leaders and armies of the world would not create an unstoppable army from his form. Even in their most desperate hour, the Japanese government would never ask Goro’s invention for help – no matter how badly it was needed.

But every so often, when Goro and his family and friends had gone from the lab, he would rouse himself from hibernation, quietly walk out of the lab, and swoop high into the sky.

It was amazing how seldom people looked up. He hadn’t been caught by Goro yet, but rumors had been spreading around Japan of a strange, silvery-orange figure who would shoot down from the sky around Japan on occasion, delivering help to those in need.

This looked to be one of those times.

His wide, dark photoreceptors recognized the shape of a young man several miles below, holding another young man at gunpoint. The second man was shaking with fear, and holding out his wallet. While even his audioreceptors couldn’t filter out their words through the whistling wind, he didn’t need to read their lips to recognize a mugging.

Jet Jaguar shot down from the sky, the heroic robot preparing his antigravity thrusters for impact with the ground. The mugger had just turned around when he heard the low clang of a reinforced steel-titanium alloy striking concrete off to his left.

He turned just in time for a quick judo chop to thump into his stomach. If the robot had used all his strength, the man would have been splattered all over the pavement. As it was, he had barely enough strength (between deep, gasping wheezes as his shocked diaphragm desperately tried to adjust) to glance up at his assailant. He was no otherworldly cyborg, no ancient god or god or progeny of the Hydrogen Bomb, and was no match for one who’d faced all three and lived to tell the tale.

He was shocked to see the cunningly crafted robot standing there, that permanent grin etched into his metallic face as he gazed down at the mugger. With a swift flourish, he snatched the wallet out of the mugger’s hand and turned back to the would-be victim. Silent as ever, the robot gently placed it back into his hands as the young man stared in wonder.

“Thank you… thank you so much!” whispered the young man.

The android gave a swift nod, curt, but far from unkind, and then swiftly launched himself into the air with the mugger securely clamped under one powerful metal arm. As the young man watched, Jet Jaguar vanished above the rooftops, turning, he noticed, towards the police station several blocks away.

With the still-groaning would-be mugger bent double on the steps of the police station, in too much pain to worry about how he’d explain the stolen gun with his fingerprints on it (but not in so much pain that he wouldn’t be able to curse himself out the next morning), Jet Jaguar soared back into the clear afternoon sky. He’d saved somebody, served justice to another, and would be home just in time to avoid Goro’s anger by quietly switching into hibernation securely within the walls of his workshop.

Life was good indeed.

(Jet Jaguar is not my invention, but is (c) Toho, all rights belong to them, etc. etc...)

(The picture was originally supposed to represent Jet Jaguar neutralizing some thugs that broke into Goro's lab, but I liked this story better; hence the dissonance.)