Author's Note 1 – Today marks the first anniversary of the first story I posted here on FFN, and with the word count of this chapter, my total archived words here will pass the 400,000 mark! Good grief! Author's Note 2 at bottom.

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Time To Panic

By SHADO Commander

Chapter 2 – Mind your P's and Q's.

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Drew Lipsky, aka Doctor Draken, looked up from his poignant pontification of the small handheld device he had been preoccupied with pondering as the perversely pudenda shaped portal next to the multi-purpose chair/desk/exercise bench/something with restraints that he was sitting at suddenly parted with a sultry purred whisper of "A pleasure serving you, mistress."

"Hey Doc, got you a new buddy to keep you company!" His former partner in pilferage proclaimed.

Drakken blinked myopically as Shego stepped through the pulchritudinous passageway, paired with a most paradoxical person. On any other occasion, the palpitating peek-a-boo of Shego's prominently protruding putting-green pigmented nipples as they poked perkily through her pearlescent plastic Piloting Pajamas would have been the final punch required to pummel his painfully punished prefrontal cortex into permanent, stupefied submission. However, as he peered at the puzzling presence of Possible's pants-challenged preferred pal (since Pre-K,) the one thing that could have possibly pierced through the panoply of perturbing portents promoted by the 'P' pages of the publication he had been perusing so passionately suddenly pounced upon his paranoid psyche like a panther!

"Hey!" He cried, pulse pounding as he popped to his feet, pointing petulantly. "Those are MINE!"

"No, these are mine!" Ron ripped back, pivoting on his own pedal extremities. "You're WEARING yours!"

"I am?" Drakken paused, patently perplexed as he peeked down at his own preposterously purple snowman patterned PJs. "Oh that's right… I am!"

"Cool!" Ron grinned. "We're twins!"

"That's right," Shego sighed as Ron and Drakken exchanged the ultra-secret Snowman Hank fan club handshake (it's done with the feet.) "Seven billion idiots on the planet and we rescue the only pair of dodos willing to waste twelve bucks on Snowman Hank jam jams."

"Nine forty nine, SmartyMart special!" Ron retorted.

"And you STOLE mine for me."

"Actually, no, I didn't," Shego flushed. "I took the money out of the petty cash jar and told the clerk at the store they were for an obnoxious nephew I really didn't like."

"Oh… well in any case, about that Rescue bit," Drakken resumed, dropping back into something more like his old manner of behavior, Possible-induced pathos on pause. "Exactly when can I go back to my lab?"

"Er, when the entire planet is unfrozen," Shego replied. "Sorry for the inconvenience, but I figured you wouldn't want to wake up to find that Kim's dad had evened up with you on the whole 'saved the world' thing. Still, if you really want to sleep this one out…"

"Oh!" Drakken blinked. "Drat. I guess you're right. So what diabolic way have you schemed to sabotage his plans?"

"None," the Femslash's First Mate deadpanned, rolling her eyes.

"None?"

"None," the pale woman reaffirmed. "Kinda goes against the whole saving the world motif, you know? But as long as you help out, you'll at least put on points at the same rate, so you'll stay a world save ahead."

"Well…" Drakken frowned petulantly, unsuccessfully attempting to parrot the famed Possible Puppy-Dog Pout.

"Or I can stick you in the sub-zero in the galley and Stoppable here can look at your frozen puss every time he has to make pudding."

"Yes, you've convinced me," Drakken agreed agreeably. "And what was it you wanted me to do again?"

"Work with the Robot," the scantily clad former henchwoman explained for the nineteenth time. "At least 'til you catch up on Kwimian technology."

"Kwimian?" Ron interrupted questioningly.

"Kim's a Kwim," Shego explained, opening a cupboard and pulling out a large jar labeled 'Kwim-lube.' "The book the Doc's been reading can explain it all better than I can right now. If you see the robot, ask him to dig up another copy for you."

"The Robot?" Ron asked.

"Yes, we have a robot," Shego groaned, opening another cabinet filled with very short light sabers. Or something that looked like light sabers. "One that's more trouble than he's worth, if you ask me, but he came with the ship instead of a dishwasher."

"He was sulking down in the basement… I mean the cargo bay, last I checked." Drakken added. "Talk about issues, all he does is whine about how he's lost his will."

"And there you go," Shego nodded, biting her tongue as she filled her arms with lube, vibrators and something rubbery and covered with straps. "That's why we need you and monkey boy here to take up the slack."

"And eventually replace him," Shego added quickly when she saw her ex-boss' face fall at the thought of playing second banana to a tin can on tractor treads. "Doc, why don't you take a break from reading and lend that book to the bu… to Ron here. With your genius, I'm sure you can figure out what to do about that robot… or at least talk him into showing you where he's hidden the engineering manuals."

"But I…" Drakken began, but saw the green girl's eyes begin to narrow in an all too familiar squint. "Oh alright."

"Good," Shego smiled. "Now if you'll excuse me, the Princess and I have some Orgasmoplasm to fire up so we can do the old in/out, in/out of hyperspace thing, okay?"

"TMI!" Ron and Drakken shrieked simultaneously.

"No, TMO, you can look it up in the book," Shego smirked, then turned to the vaginal shaped door that had closed itself while they had been talking. "Open before I burn your knob off, you bitch."

"Ooooo Kinky," Whispered the door, sliding open. "A pleasure being mistreated, mistress."

"Keep it up and I may slam you," Shego growled. "Repeatedly."

"Ooooooooo! You're the best First Mate ever…" Moaned the door as it shut, blocking the ship's first mate from view.

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Ron turned back to the blue skinned former (now part time) madman.

"Has your day been as weird as mine?"

"Eh, a typical Thursday," Draken shrugged, handing him the 'book,' which looked suspiciously like a Kimmunicator painted blue. "It's already set for Earth English and in sub-audible transmission mode so you won't need a fish. I do suggest you sit down and brace yourself though. When THEY start up the engines, it's a bit…"

The blue man's face screwed up in an excellent imitation of a raisin playing a bassoon. "It's just a bit much. I'll be in the basem… cargo bay."

"Uh…" Ron started, but really couldn't think of anything to say. Shego had suggested that if he read the book, it could answer many of his questions, so he sat down in same strange piece of furniture… it looked like a cross between a high chair and a rowing machine with lots of straps… that Drakken had been in when Ron and Shego had come in through the hall from the turbolift.

Well, that seemed like as good a place to start as any. What was it that Shego had called Kim? A Kwim, that's right… it had started with a K, he thought… and was then completely startled when, as soon as he hit the single green button on the front of the book, two things happened. The button turned red, and, even more amazingly, he could "hear" the information in his head in a remarkably pleasant speaking voice even as matching words, text and illustrations appeared on the small screen…

"Thank you for purchasing this copy of THE SITCH HUNTER'S GUIDE THE GALAXY, one of an elite group of sister travel guides and general compendiums of knowledge published by "Megadodo Publications", the largest and most successful company in the vast book and periodicals agencies based on Ursa Minor Beta (SEE also: IrmWYnd, Vogoth & Saagoth, Bombastic and Amazon.) Sharing much of the same database as the more risk-averse and therefore more popular HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY, the SITCH HUNTER'S GUIDE differs in three distinct ways: First, it is slightly more expensive. Second, the reassuring words DON'T PANIC are NOT printed on the cover, it being assumed that the target market is composed of that odd subset of beings who willingly thrust themselves into danger. Finally, there is, in general, FAR more knowledge and data included since the additional researchers who comprise the SITCH HUNTER's supplemental staff are made of far sterner stuff than the HGTTG's, and absolutely no attempt has been made to soften the dangers of certain Galactic Troublespots by simply ignoring them… for example, the entry for Earth in the HGTTG reads simply "HARMLESS," ("MOSTLY HARMLESS" in the upcoming edition,) end of entry, whereas the SHGTTG's subsection of Chapters on the same subject contains a mind-boggling 6,897,983,486 entries, all prefaced with an initial heading of "OH SHIT." For those interested in other exciting and even more specialized Megadodo publications, may we recommend the ITCH SCRATCHER'S GUIDE TO GALACTIC LIFE FORMS, THE BITCH LIKER'S GUIDE TO…."

Well, that's enough of THAT, Ron thought, adjusting to a book 'inside' his head rather easily. Placing his finger on the "K" key on the virtual keyboard that had appeared at the bottom of the book, he was noe the less quite surprised when it came up as the very first subject. Pressing again, he was pleased to hear that same pleasant and oddly familiar voice continue in his head.

"The K – or KWIM,

There are 20, give or take… okay, 18 races who have the habit of popping up so frequently in tales of intergalactic legend, skullduggery and derring-do that the scribes of the first great universal collection of knowledge, the Encyclopedia Galactica, found that they could save trillions of bits of storage space simply by always identifying those being with single unique phonetic letters. As often happens, those abbreviations quickly fell into common usage with the general galactic public at large, something that occurred not just because they were both easier to say and frequently much shorter, but also because some simply felt the letters felt 'snazzier' than the full original names… The name of the Q, in particular, was quickly adopted by the beings of that continuum as they'd always hated their real name, which had been selected by an aunt they were fairly sure didn't like them and had done it out of spite. (SEE: The Q - Why are they so whiney?) In any case, of all these single-lettered species, the K… or more colloquially, the Kwim… are paradoxically both one of the best known and the most mysterious.

Believed to hail from a planet hidden within, behind or occasionally just to the left of the Great Oort Cloud, the K possess an intimidating combination of higher than average intelligence, advanced technology and superlative physical abilities that would no doubt make them highly feared by most other races… were it not for the fact that they are also incredibly physically attractive and thus protected by the all too common galactic truism that really attractive people cannot be all that smart or dangerous. (SEE: Greatest Galactic Fallacies, #42)

Wherever they originally came from, or what their intent, the K have since traded on their good looks and other assets to establish multiple small colonies on many worlds throughout the galaxy, with the largest being on Tralfamadore, Altair IV, Deevil, Fhloston, Galafray, Planet Basketball and, the largest of all, Gaia in the Betelgeuse system. Kwim colonies are unusual in that they rarely seemed focused on exploiting natural resources and seldom have permanent colonists, working instead with a system they call "Time Share." As an addendum, Kwim activities on those worlds seem to revolve overwhelmingly around the hotel, restaurant and adult entertainment industries. (SEE: Sexual Habits – Who Put the K in Kinky?)

In addition to their colonies, it is also known that the Kwim have many undercover operatives living on other worlds. Where these operatives are, how they operate and what they are up to precisely is a matter of much debate, but it is known that the K have two great weaknesses:

1 - an excessive fondness for puns and

2 - an inability to keep their noses out of everybody else's business.

As such, the K have become the universe's most prominent do-gooders, which usually puts them in direct opposition to a dozen or more great intergalactic evils at once (SEE: Trouble Magnet.) This also causes the majority of the other races to treat them with suspicion, since nobody could really be all THAT goody-goody. Ergo, it is assumed, the presence of K someplace in disguise almost certainly means that they MUST be up to something, whatever the heck it might be. On the other hand, given that the K do have a habit of saving entire planets on a regular basis, most civilizations are quite willing to let them 'Kwim' in and nose around… especially since the odds are especially good that in the process some of the locals will have a chance of 'getting really lucky.' (SEE: Kwim Sex Drive 1, Below)

That brings us to the subject of the Kwim Sex Drive. Drives, plural, in fact, as there are actually two of them.

The first involves the actual reproductive… or, far more often, purely recreational… sex life of the average Kwim. Unlike most species, the Kwim go through a set of three escalating levels of puberty, it being assumed that to go directly from pre-adolescent to full Kwim maturity would require too great a shift in the life form's body structure and mental focus, and that without the staggered maturing periods, a Kwim could actually copulate itself to death. Puberty Level One brings the Kwim to a level equivalent to a typical post-adolescent human. Puberty Level Two escalates the sex drive by a quantum level. Like really, really crazy lots. And is usually from the 'experimentation' of these second pubers that the Kwim's staggering legend of sexual virility is born, as the K's unusual limberness and general willingness to try anything at least once or twice has treated many a fortunate alien to a night they will never forget, even long after the bruises and abrasions fade.

As a warning, this Guide takes no responsibility for any or untoward results that might be incurred as the result of unwise actions possibly inspired by the above and below passages, as sex between a Kwim and a non-Kwim can be physically hazardous to the non-K involved, and such contact is normally carefully regulated by local planetary and interstellar law. (SEE: Waiver of All Responsibility, Megadodo Publication re: This Book,) That said, it is absolutely fantastic and if you ever get the chance, you are the universe's greatest idiot and loser if you pass up the opportunity (SEE: Universe's Greatest Idiots and Losers, List of, You) Assuming that you don't die, the worst that can happen is the best sexual experience of your life, and it is even possible that, if sufficiently impressed, the Kwim will decide to adopt you into their race through an undescribed process. The rare, fortunate and astoundingly sexually durable beings who manage to make it into this pool for consideration are called POSSIBLES. (SEE: Disgustingly Lucky Bastards, List of.)

Exactly what happens to a K upon reaching third level of puberty is unknown, as all Kwim must return to their home world in preparation for the event and the location of that planet is still secret. However, while no one knows exactly what occurs then, we can speculate based on three things: the fact that Kwim Prime is known to be the universe's single largest consumer of sexual lubricants, (SEE: Kwim Lube, Krypton-Yavin Jelly, Milliway's Love Juice,) that it has been reported by the few who have seen Kwim Prime (after being drugged and blindfolded for the trip) that the planet has a third moon made entirely out of discarded batteries. (SEE: Energia Minus) and finally that all Kwim returning from their Third Puberty Kick-off Parties (or '3PK's for short,) have an insufferably smug smile on their faces that has been known to last for years and sometimes decades. (SEE: Mona Lisa, was she a Kwim?)

This ties in neatly with what is known of the OTHER Kwim sex drive. That is to say, the propulsion system that powers almost all of the Kwim's advanced Private/Exploratory, Commercial/Exploratory, Military/Exploratory and Municipal Public Service/Exploratory vessels (all Kwim ships tending to do a lot of exploration, if you get our drift and we think you do.) Based on the original Orgasmaplasmic Engines created by Igotalottathem Gallumbits of the planet Eroticon (SEE, also: Eccentrica Gallumbits, ancestors,) who completely misunderstood a harshly worded instruction to 'make a better fucking engine' and as a result discovered the existence of the unique energy created by certain life forms in the act of achieving sexual orgasm. Besides making Gallumbits and his employers insanely rich, allowing them to spend the rest of their lives wallowing in sexual excess while writing the whole thing off on their taxes as research,(SEE: Fucking Off to the Stars, The Gallumbits Family CHronicles,) the Orgasmic Engine Drive(OED) quickly became THE preferred form of propulsion by those races who could actually use it. Not only was it incredibly cheap to fuel, but it made initiating sexual relationships with perfect strangers an absolute snap (SEE: "Excuse me ma'am, would you mind helping me get my spaceship started?' and other great pick-up lines.) Of the various OED's, the Kwim variant has long been considered to be either one of the most efficient in the known universe or simply one of the better fueled, though there were other makes and models that rivaled it in speed and endurance. The Kwim's recent development of the Trans Multi-Orgasmic Drive (TMO) however, takes advantage of the rare ability of a handful of races to experience MULTIPLE ORGASMS (SEE: Disgustingly Lucky Bastards, List of, again,) has left most of their competition in the dust. This is annoying to the Kwim's most direct competitors such as the Barsoomians (SEE: The B) and absolutely infuriating to those races that cannot experience orgasm at all and are therefore unable to use OEDs or TMOs without hiring a well-sexed pilot or chauffeur (SEE: Vogons, Lowardians, Mangalores, Other Unlucky Bastards, List of.)

Ron stopped reading/listening for a second. This was all crazy. It was one thing to think of Kim as an alien, but a space drive that operated on SEX? There were some things that were just too ridiculous to…

"ALL SYSTEMS BUILDING," a loud by sexy voice suddenly announced. "FEMSLASH coming about in ten seconds. For your pleasure, a brief word from our Captain."

"GOD SHEGO! YESS! YEAAS!" Kim's gasping voice suddenly erupted from the hidden speakers, and Ron dropped the book as his hands flew up to cover his ears before the volume of his friend… doing what she was obviously doing even if he couldn't see it… threatened to shatter his eardrums! "Power to full! Initia… Initiate TMO when I… when I…

"Come on Princess!" A strangely muffled Shego chimed in, "Come… on…"

"AAAAAAAANNNOOOOOOOOOWWWW!" Screamed Kim. "PUNCH IT!"

"Eep." peeped Ron.

VVAAA VAAAA VVAAAAA VRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOMMM! Went the Femslash as the Multi-Orgasmic systems engaged and the ship plunged repeatedly into the velvety depths of hyperspace, plunging again and again through alternate realities before blasting back into the universe where it began, only hundreds of light years away.

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Meanwhile, back in the orbit of the star called Sol, a single Vogon cruiser slowly maneuvered it's way between the huge chunks of planet that had once been the (faux) Planet Earth.

"I'm sorry, my lord," the sweat-faced captain gurgled, his eyes twitching nervously beneath the great mass of his perspiration soaked eyebrows and nose. "We… we were operating on orders from above. No one informed us that you hadn't been able to switch the planets in time."

"Well SOMEBODY did," the Lowardian Warmaster who was actually the ship's true commander snarled. "And if you fools had actually SCANNED the damned thing before plowing it up, we might have found some clue as to who stole the real world and where they took it."

"The Vogon Ministry…" the captain began…

And never finished as his skull was crushed to paste by the Lowardian's gnarled green fist.

"Are fools," the giant warrior finished, disdainfully shaking his ex-lackeys brains from his gore-encrusted fingers. "We've spent years setting this whole thing up and now it's a fanglebear's kneecups because some damn slug got an itchy finger."

Turning to the trembling Vogon helmsman… helmsvogon… whatever they're called, the Lowardian pointed to his predecessor. "Have that delivered to the kitchen galley and instruct them to prepare it with a glaze of gargleberries. A good soldier never wastes anything, this aggravation has built up my appetite and it's my understanding that your kind are good eating when served with chawmbs. Consider yourself promoted to Captain and see that you don't end up on the menu next."

"Y… yess my Lord," the Vogon gibbered. "It shall be done! I mean it won't… I mean the first will and the latter won't and I've just relieved myself in my uniform excuse me… aaaaaaaaaa!"

"And as for you, Warmistress," the Lowardian continued, turning to the impassive face that had watched all that had transpired without comment. "We WILL find that planet, and the accursedly lucky multi-orgasmics who inhabit it. Our worlds will not be left behind when slaves still exist to fuel our engines of war."

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AN: Okay, sorry that was a little 'talky,'but there were a lot of story elements I wanted to get seeded early. Let me know if you thought there was too much of the book. I'm trying to keep the feel of both the film and novels, currently leaning to the latter. As to what's important and what isn't? I ain't telling, but if you're a long time fan of KP… the series and character, not the planet… I think you'll have a good idea of some of the other shoes that are going to drop. ;) Legal Stuff: Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Shego, Dr. Drakken, the Doctor's Possible and all other characters borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe are the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and those names are all trademarks of the Disney media organizations. The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the Vogons, Eroticon, Eccentria Gallumbits and other basic story elements from THHGTTG are the creation of Douglas Adams and are the property of his estate. Have fun figuring out where all the other stuff came from. Although use in this context may be considered fair under parody law, just in case: this work was not created for profit, no money changed hands etc. Also, this story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18… except, obviously Wade and the Tweebs.