Humanity, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Homo Sapiens Ship Ron Stoppable. His long-standing mission: To coin strange new catch-phrases. To seek out new foods and odd ways to combine them. To boldly go where a red-headed cheerleader has gone before…
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Previously, on SideTrekked: "To Boldly Go…"
"Captain's log, 7032.3" his calm baritone voice spoke into the built-in recording device. "I find myself in a rare, quiet moment aboard this ship. I'd like to take this time to pause and reflect, something I'd been hoping to do much earlier, in light of this vessel's recent anniversary. Eighteen years… my God, has it really been that long?"
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"I'm concerned about the Kim. For the past few weeks, I've watched her behavior becoming increasingly erratic. I'm sure you've noticed it, too."
"Well, I uh… I mean of course I've noticed," said the captain, nervously tugging at the collar of his uniform. "I don't think there's a man on board who hasn't… I mean how could you not, the way the ship's core temperature spikes every time she sets off our proximity alerts, the way she moves when she knows we've got her in our sights…"
"'Erratic' behavior, Captain," she answered, emphatically. "I said that I thought the Kim was behaving 'er-ra-tically.'"
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"How is this even possible?" the captain wondered out loud.
"I believe I have an explanation, Captain," said the Science Officer, flatly. "I have been observing the Conrad and my conclusion on his attributes as a fighter craft has been… curious. For sheer mass, he his twenty-seven percent smaller than any of the Dementor's Henchman-class fighters. An average Monkey Ninja-class skirmisher is superior in top speed and maneuverability by four hundred seventy-three percent. His firepower, when compared to the Killigan, the Montgomery Fiske, and perhaps every villain-class ship, with the exception of the Drakken or the Lucre, is totally ineffective against a ship of our capabilities."
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"I'm not saying I believe you," the captain said, reluctantly. "But, if the Kim were keeping something from us, what would you recommend?"
"It has to do with the Ron, I'm sure of that now," answered Sofia. "Everything seems to be building up to whatever she has planned for tonight. I think it's safe to say we'll find out then. The Kim wouldn't do anything to damage this ship on purpose."
"So, we wait?"
"Unless you want her to get angry."
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"Attention eyeballs, this is the brain! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! We have female craft with her shields down to absolute minimum closing from the south. Do not engage! Repeat: Do NOT engage! The Kim is inches off our port side and she's been acting funny all day. We are at DEFCON 3. I say again: two big, perky honkers are closing!"
The captain impatiently snapped his fingers at the navigator who immediately sent the captain the Shego's recently acquired schematic information.
"Chest size: three niner," Haupt continued. "Cup size: Delta, Delta… Delta? How long has she been hiding all… er, never mind. Do not engage those boobs!"
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In the darkness, a lone creature slithered out to where his brethren dared not venture. He did not fear death. He feared nothing now. A grin spread across his deathly pale face, revealing the rows of gleaming fangs. A dry laugh escaped like a cough from his throat.
"It hassss moved," he roared into the embracing darkness.
The venomous voice echoed in the tunnels, sticking in the ears of the faithful.
It has moved…
It has moved
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"Interface"
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The bare, metallic floor felt cold against his cheek. It was the first thing Capt. Haupt noticed once he'd returned to consciousness. The fact that he should be in his chair and not on the floor came in at a close second. Stiffly, he pushed himself up off the ground, neck bones popping as he worked his head around. In the dim light, he could see that his crew was recovering as well, those that needed to recover. Lt. Propriov had kept his safety restraints securely fastened since morning in a blatant show of distrust for their helmsman, while Mr. Frege was standing at his station looking totally unaffected, as if nothing unusual had happened.
Blinking, Haupt took a second look at his Science Officer. Yes, he was standing and his posture was ramrod straight as always, but he seemed… off, somehow. From where the captain was kneeling, it almost looked like Frege was leaning. If he were leaning on something, that'd be unusual enough considering the officer's complete disregard for personal comforts. But, impossibly, he appeared to be leaning against nothing more than thin air. Puzzled, the captain tried to raise himself up to his feet and promptly fell flat on his bum.
"What in the…?" he grumbled, this time grabbing an arm of his chair to hoist himself up.
It was then that he saw several others were having trouble as well. Luloni was hunched over the steering console, groaning from the pain of being thrown against it. Lt. Indlebe was gripping an edge of the COM system to keep from falling out of his chair. Counselor Sofia wasn't even bothering to try and stand, opting to sit with her legs firmly locked together and arms crossed over her chest, suggesting that she might have returned to the waking world in a less than modest pose. Not an unthinkable possibility, especially with the uniform she was barely wearing. Snapping out of his observation, the problem instantly became clear: the whole deck was listing forward. Instinctively, he looked up to the main view screen to check the exterior view but found it was completely dark.
"Mr. Frege, what's our status?" he asked. "What happened to the lights, the exterior visuals…? And why aren't the stabilizers leveling us off? What in God's name is going on here?"
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There was something warm pressed against his cheek. Both cheeks, actually. That was the first thing Ron Stoppable noticed once he'd returned to consciousness. Warm and soft. He blinked a few times before he realized that his eyes had already been open, it was just too dark to see. Ron would've been the first guy to admit that he hadn't totally gotten over his childhood fear of the dark, but this was different for some reason. There was something about the sensations around him that, on some basic and almost primal level, made him feel completely safe. Adding to it was the soft, steady pulse that filled his ears. The sound served to complete the picture, and he discovered a deep sense of security he'd left behind with his earliest memories. Unconsciously, he snuggled deeper into the warmth, brushing against the silken walls of his sanctuary with the sides of his face.
"Mmmm… That's right. Make yourself nice and cozy, tiger."
The feelings of security were replaced by mind-numbing terror as the honey rich voice brought him screeching back to the reality of his situation.
"MRRPHMRR!!!" he shouted, the sound disappearing into Shego's ample divide.
The panicked blond pulled back with every ounce of his strength in a desperate attempt to free himself. He was able to free his face, the villainess' tight grip on his hair the only think keeping him from slamming his head into the stone wall behind him. Ron's eyes were wide with shock at what she'd just done.
"Oh come on, Ronnie," she pouted, eyes soft and sad. "You need to stay in for longer than that. How else are you supposed to decide if you like mine as much as Kimmie's? Now just relax, baby. Let Shego work a little bit of green magic."
Her gaze turned hungry as she finished and her mouth stretched into a predatory smile. Before he could say anything she yanked his head right back down.
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The whole deck lurched forward and anyone not holding on for dear life was sent sprawling. Thinking quickly, the captain grabbed hold of Counselor Sofia's arm as she skidded past him. She looked up at him gratefully as he pulled her into the chair beside him.
"Captain, I have determined the root cause of our obstructed external visual feed," said Frege, impossibly still on his feet.
Haupt, suddenly remembering there was something more urgent than the high angle close-up of Sofia's duty uniform he'd just discovered, shot a look at the Science Officer that said "No, really? Do you think it could be the two giant gazongas we just face planted into?" He didn't say it out loud because getting slapped by the lady beside him wasn't going to do anybody any good.
"I think that's common knowledge at this point, Mr. Frege," he replied, instead. "Meanwhile, the overhead lights are barely on and the rest of us have to strap in if we don't want to join Luloni and Propriov at the front of the room. Where the hell are my stabilizers?"
"The stabilizers have ceased to function, Captain," explained Frege.
"Figured that much out on my own," he said, brusquely. "Why?"
"A systems protocol, with which I am currently unfamiliar, is active in the core mainframe, Captain. It has overridden all conflicting commands and is depleting a significant percentage of our energy reserves. I surmise that it has suspended the function all systems it deems to be nonessential in the interest of conserving power."
"Well tell it that stabilizers are essential! Stabilizers are very essential!"
"Captain, my attempts to reactivate the stabilization systems began the moment they went offline. I have been effectively locked out of the program."
"Can you shut it down?"
"As much as I hate to take baldy's side on this, Sir," the navigator said before Frege could answer. "I'm guessing that 'locked out' means he can't do diddly-squat about it right now."
"That is correct, Lieutenant," he confirmed, calmly. "However, I will continue to analyze the system until I have found a viable means of affecting change, if those are your orders, Captain."
"Seems like that's about all we can do," Haupt acknowledged, grimly. "Alright, Mr. Frege, you keep at it. The rest of you, we're going to have to try and right ourselves manually."
"Manually?" the helmsman squeaked.
"Yes, Mr. Luloni. Manually. Prepare to pull back on my mark, I want the nose tilted up 35 degrees and I want it held there until the stabilizers are back online."
"Aye, Captain," managed Luloni, meekly.
"Everyone, secure yourselves in your stations. This might get a little rough," he added, grinning apologetically as he continued softly. "Counselor, you're with me. I'll try to watch my hands a little more carefully this time."
"Thank you, Sir," she said, coloring slightly. "I don't think I apologized before... for what I did to your nose."
"Probably deserved worse, I think," he answered frankly. "Hold on, and don't let go until we're out of this mess."
Sofia blushed deeper and slid her arms around the captain, her right hand grabbing her left wrist to lock her grip on him.
"Captain, oxygen levels are depleting," said Frege, blandly. "It appears the Shego has blocked our atmospheric intake vents."
"Then let's not waste any more time. PULL UP!"
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"Gah!" Ron strained as he tore himself away again, gasping for air. "Need… huff… need to… puff… breathe… for a--"
"Oh, yes!" she mewled as she yanked him back down against her, rocking her body slowly against him. "Breathe me in deep, lover. Ooh, breathe me in so deep."
"Frrmruph rrmmuhruh fffRRRRMMMM!!!" he yelled against her, the rust-bitten chains rattling as he uselessly flailed his manacled arms.
"What was that, baby?" she asked, coyly. "You want to play a game? I know a real good one that'll be lots of fun for you, me, and the girls. It's called 'Moterboat.'"
"Hey, I never said... wait, 'Motorboat?' What the heck is 'Motorbo-bbbbub-bubbbb" but before the captive teen could continue, he was pulled in again. Only, this time, instead of just holding him there, Shego tightened her grip on his blond locks and shook his head back and forth like a dog might shake an old shoe. Every time he lifted his head back up she'd tug it right back down between her lady lumps and start again.
"Hey now, cut that ou-bb-bububbubbb-bbbb… what's the big ide-bbbbubbbub-bbbbb… look, I'm really flattered and all but I-bbubbb-bbbbubb-bbubbbbbbbb…"
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Fastened in their seats, the crew of the command deck weren't slamming into walls but they were still flailing like rag dolls. Even Frege was forced to halt his work every few seconds and grab hold of the edges of his console during the worst of the tremors.
"Brilliant plan, Cap," Propriov groaned weakly, but still managed to sound snarky. "'Let's use the bridge to play tug-of-war with the super-powered psycho lady.' Real 'outside the box' thinking."
"Frege…" said Haupt, trying to ignore both his navigator and his nausea. "Tell me you're close. Tell me you can fix this."
His response was halted by another vigorous shake. They thrashed wildly once again, a few crewmen desperately clutching at their mouths to keep the afternoon's galley grub down. Then, inexplicably, the shaking slowed and kept slowing until it was nothing more than a gentle rocking. It was such a relief from the jarring turbulence that the helmsman wasn't even moving to pull out of it anymore. They were still angled down, though, rendering the view screen useless.
"What's happening?" the captain asked, helplessly. "What's she doing now?"
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"Oh… ohhh… almost there…"
Holding on tight with one hand, she cupped the free hand underneath one of her glistening mounds, lifting it and pressing it even firmer against his face. She kneaded it against him roughly, starting to thrust up her hips in an almost desperate rhythm.
"So close… so… oh… oh, yes yesss, oh… Oh, RON!!!"
With that she arched her back as far as it would go and held her self like that against him, unmoving. Both of her legs were around him now, threatening to squeeze the life out of him. He felt her muscles go slack as she lowered her feet to the ground and immediately fell forward against him, panting and nuzzling the crook of his neck.
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"Did she…" the captain had to struggle to find his voice. "Did she just…?"
"No, Captain," answered Sofia, glaring hatefully at the green vessel filling the view screen. "No she did not. And, for the record, I've seen better acting in cartoons."
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Unhurriedly, Shego lifted her head from Ron's chest to look deeply into his eyes. She giggled and started tracing little circles on his collarbone with her perfectly manicured finger. His face was flushed red from the heat and contact. There were shining spots on his cheeks where they were streaked with lines of drool that had rubbed back onto his face. Some had even found its way into his hair, leaving it even messier than usual as it stuck out wildly in all directions.
"You were wonderful, Ronnie," she cooed, her lips hovering barely apart from his. "I gotta say, Kimmie is one lucky girl."
You could almost hear the sound of screeching tires and shattering glass as something he'd overlooked in the heat of the moment was suddenly brought into center focus. Shego looked to her left, smirking for all she was worth. He didn't want to look. Really, he didn't. It was like his chin was caught in some kind of tractor beam. Slowly, his head turned all the way to the right.
"Oh yeah, Princess," continued Shego, utterly shameless. "This one's a keeper. Better have your eye on him. I might feel like borrowing him again sometime. A little more quality time between sidekicks. I think we both know how he'd feel about that, right Kimmie?"
Ron's mouth was open, but he wasn't trying to speak. There was nothing he could say. There was nothing he could say that wasn't likely to make the whole thing ten times worse. That wasn't what was keeping him quiet, because it'd certainly never stopped him before. What he saw there, standing next to him wearing the same rusty chains, had scared every single solitary word right out of his head. He'd managed a quiet, choking noise in the back of his throat when Shego spoke again.
"Well, it's been fun, but I've got places to be," she smoothly slid herself off of Ron and turned to leave, stopping only once on her way to the door to look over her shoulder and bring a hand up to the side of her head like the receiver of a phone while she mouthed the words "call me" at the stunned blond.
Shego shut the heavy door behind her and grabbed the dark green trench coat she'd hung on one of the various pointy outcroppings of rock. Slipping it on and tying it shut, she walked briskly to the main exit and out of the lair where the taxi she'd called earlier was waiting. She slipped the driver a handful of C-notes to secure his services for the rest of the night and gave him directions to one of her safe houses, telling him to wait for her outside until she came back. The second she was inside her lavishly decorated penthouse suite, she had to steady herself on a coffee table so she wouldn't fall down laughing.
The look on Kim Possible's face was something she'd treasure for the rest of her life, and all she'd had to do was try to keep herself from hurling as she gave the buffoon the thrill of his young life. In her mind, it more than balanced out in the end, although she'd taken three showers before she was satisfied she'd gotten the last bit of "geek-slime" washed off of her flawless mint cream skin. After toweling off, she slid into a gorgeous dress, admittedly only her second favorite, and soon she was back in the cab and on her way to one of her favorite clubs. The music was hot, the lights were low, and the boys were oh so pretty. All in all, it turned out to be one of the best times she'd had in months. She was enjoying herself so much, in fact, that she didn't notice that all the men she picked to dance with that night, aside from looking like they'd just walked out of the pages of a fashion magazine, were also similar in that they were sporting blond hair, freckles, or larger than average ears.
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To Be Continued In…
"Homeward"
Author's Notes: Did you really think I could give up that easily? Leave you good people hanging? You must think me a right horrible bastard. Well, I'm not… mostly. After all, this chapter's a bit shorter than you're used to, although it's longer than the first chapter of To Boldly Go. If you're wondering why I decided to separate this story into two halves, I do have my reasons and they don't all involve breaking the sentence in half so I could get two different titles. The truth is you might be dealing with some more adult-oriented material in this half of the story. Shocking, I know, considering the chapter you just read. Right...
For the record, if you got turned on by what you read, that's great for you but it really wasn't my intention. At all. I've got no problem with erotic literature, really. If that's your cup of tea, more power to you. I just don't think I'm at a stage in my life where I should be writing wanking material for total strangers. Again, nothing wrong with it, just not for me right now. As of right now, there's no real cursing and the sexual situations are well within contemporary PG-13 limits… I think. I've set it at a "T" rating, but it might very well change to "M" if I need to. I remind you, "M" rating would be for safety, not because I'm turning this story into a Bow-Chicka-BOW-Bow… Okay? Okay.
Special Thanks to all of you who reviewed "To Boldly Go…", and I'll mention those who reviewed chapter 6 here specifically. My eternal gratitude to CajunBear73 (Can't believe you thought I'd play you like that), DuffKilliganFan (Okay, maybe the prayers to Quetzocoatl did something after all), Meca Vegeta (Thanks for the three "bum" salute), Mr. Wizard (All of us knowing, dun dadun dadun, DUDUH DUH… Ron is a battlefield) specter666 (Katie Kaboom, mutha f-ers!) and UncleFester84 (My madness tends to have that affect on people).
Feedback is appreciated. Leave a review, get a response.
Blessed be,
-Brother Bludgeon
Kim Possible created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley.
Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry