Disclaimer: Kim Possible and all related characters belong to Disney. Halo and all related characters and concepts belong to Bungie. Doctor Chakwas belongs to the BioWare Corp.
Acknowledgments: First off I'd like to thank my betas friedapublic and Seraina for their fantastic beta reading abilities. Second of all, I'd like to thank Whisper from the Shadows, Stubbs101, and Rev1780 for reviewing. And lastly I'd like to thank you, the reader, the fact that you're reading and enjoying this story right now makes it all worth while. So without further bloviating on my part I present you with Chapter 3 of Marine, book one in the Helljumper series. Enjoy.
1430 hours, June 25, 2549 (Military Calendar)/
Aboard UNSC Vessel Basra, Gamma Eridanus system, in orbit around Atlanta III.
Currently undergoing a fighting withdrawal from Covenant forces.
"Here comes another one!" Doctor Chakwas yelled from outside the hanger airlock as the last of the D77-TC Pelican dropships still not onboard a UNSC ship landed in one of the massive hanger bays of the Marathon-class Cruiser Basra, narrowly dodging the plasma fire from one of the attacking Covenant Seraph fighters as it did. "Alright lets go see if they need help" Chakwas said to one of the med-teams as the hangar doors closed and the room pressurized.
"We need some help over here!" one of the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers getting off the Pelican yelled as refugees started to shuffle out of it.
"Stoppable got hit bad" a female ODSTs - Corly - yelled at Chakwas as she and another 'Helljumper' brought a stretcher off the dropship.
Stoppable. What kind of name is . . . "Oh my . . ." Chakwas breathed as she caught sight of the young man's mutilated face, "What happened to him? How long has he been like this? What kind of treatment has he received?" she rapidly asked the medic that had come off the dropship.
"In that order" the Corporal said as he approached her, "His wounds are consistent with those caused by a Covenant Energy Sword, we picked him up on our way off the planet, and I gave him a double dose polypseudomorphine to ease the pain and some biofoam to slow the bleeding. I wish I could have done more, but in all honesty that guy needs surgery now" he spoke with a great deal conviction.
"Alright we'll get him into the OR, you stay here and tend to the wounded" Chakwas said as she turned and ran after the Marines who were pushing Stoppable's Gurney. Who are you?Chakwas thought as she looked upon Stoppable's incapacitated form, Or more to the point where did you come from?
Well wherever you came from we're going to fix you up just fine she thought to herself as they ran into the OR a few minutes later. "Alright let's get this suit off him!" Chakwas said as she started to cut the young man's clothes off with a pair heavy-duty medical scissors, "What in the world?" Chakwas exclaimed as the fabric on Stoppable's suit repaired itself just moments after she had cut it.
"What is that thing?!" one of the surgeons exclaimed upon seeing the patient's clothes repair themselves.
"Never mind that, we'll worry about getting it off him later, right now lets just get his face fixed up" Chakwas said in a tone that left no room for argument as she started growing the necessary flesh and organs to replace the young man's burned and gouged face in the nearby flash cloning chambers, her mind becoming a blank slate as she focused her entire being on the task of healing her patient before his brain became to damaged for him to continue living.
1432 hours, June 25, 2549 (Military Calendar)/
In one of the hanger bays of the UNSC Vessel Basra, Gamma Eridanus system, in orbit around Atlanta III.
Currently preparing for Shaw-Fujikawa Slipspace jump.
Now what?Shego thought dejectedly after seeing Stoppable being ferried away by one of the medical teams, I mean . . . I'm in space! High above an alien world in a Marathon-class Cruiser, swept up in a life and death struggle with a genocidal alliance of aliens bent on the total annihilation of all mankind. I'm living every science fiction fangirl's dream! . . . Except that it's not a dream, it's real, it's brutal, people are dying all around me, and the only other person who could ever understand what I'm going through is dying right now because I had to go off and try to 'help' people. Like they ever deserved it . . . but then again, I am stuck here for the foreseeable future so it might be good to have someone watching my back Shego thought contradictorily to herself before being interrupted from her internal battle by the voice of one of the refugees.
"Excuse me, miss?" the woman asked, worry evident in voice.
"Yes?" Shego said a slightly sarcastic tone, fully intending to give this woman a piece of her mind for whatever offhand comment she was going to make about her skin tone or outfit.
"Have you seen my daughter?" the woman asked as tears started to form in her eyes, "We got separated at the spaceport, and you were on the last Pelican in. She's about 5 years old, has brown hair, carries around a little stuffed horse that I gave her for her birthday, and . . . Oh, God, have you seen her?"
Shego's heart dropped like stone, "No" she answered in a vacant tone, "No I haven't seen her."
Shego silently watched as the woman broke out sobbing before turning and running through the gathering crowds towards the dropship the interdimensional travelers had come in on, calling her daughter's name as she did, even when several Marines tried to hold her back, telling her that there was no-one left on the Pelican and that they couldn't turn back, the woman continued to try and push through to the dropship, screaming her daughter's name over and over again as she did, before finally being sedated by one of the Marines. And through it all Shego continued to stare straight ahead, her face completely void of all emotion.
"Ma'am" Corly said approaching Shego from behind, "Ma'am?" Corly asked again in a slightly more worried tone, "Ma'am are you all right?" she continued, putting a gloved hand on the mint-skinned woman's shoulder.
"Yeah I'm alright, why would you think . . ." Shego paused mid-sentence as the ship started to generate hundreds of micro-singularities in front of the bow, tearing open a hole in reality, and making the transition to Slipspace, and safety. Shego, for her part, wasn't doing as well, in fact you could say she was doing quite badly. Her insides felt like they were rolling around in pudding, her face was getting noticeably greener, and at that point in time Shego was positive that she hadn't ever felt that sick, Well except for right after the 'Rainbow Comet incident' she thought darkly before being overcome with a wave of nausea, Oh no. Shego vomited - all over the floor of the hanger.
"Otherwise? Well for starters you chucked your guts all over the floor" Corly finished, raising an eyebrow at the apparent villainess' statement. Clearly she was shaken up about something, but decided - wisely perhaps - not to press the issue. "Foehammer called the Admiral on our way up, and told him what was going on" she said to the sickly looking woman, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at one of the exits as she did.
"And now he wants to talk to us so he can figure out what to tell the spooks at ONI" Shego finished in a mater of fact tone as she finally stopped puking.
"Something like that. You coming?" Corly asked, turning to leave.
"Sure, not like I have anything better to do" Shego answered in a sarcastic tone.
Corly nodded at her statement before compulsively putting her hand to her helmet and contacting the rest of her squad, "Alright boys, the Admiral wants to see us in the officer's briefing room ASAP, so strip back down and head on up there, we'll meet you there."
"Yes ma'am"came the uniform response.
"So are you going show me where to go, or are you going to stand there like a idiot all day" Shego said to the Helljumper in a disrespectful tone as she started to walk out of the hanger.
Must resist urge to kill . . . At least until after the Admiral's done with her Corly thought with a wry grin as she took off her helmet and attached it to her belt, "Well unless you plan on walking through the ship all day like some ignorant blooter I suggest you follow me" oh yeah, she was going to have some real fun with this one.
"Well then, lead on oh powerful mistress" Shego said facetiously as she held out her hands towards the door and bowed slightly.
"I got a better idea" Corly quipped as she moved towards the door, "How about you take that attitude of yours and shove it up your . . ."
1451 hours, June 25, 2949 (Military Calendar)/
Officer's Briefing Room, on board UNSC Vessel Basra, in Slipspace en-route to open space.
The tension in the briefing room was palpable. Everyone in it had heard what Foehammer had described over the comm - travelers from another world, another universe. People who not only knew almost everything about their world, but also possessed superhuman abilities, and apparently were both a hero and villain in the universe from which they came. It sounded like something out of a comic book, or some piece of fan fiction posted on the net. Either way it looked as though things were going to get a lot more interesting in the UNSC - like they needed it.
"I'm getting too old for this" Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Danforth Whitcomb groused in his signature Texas drawl as he watched camera footage of the supposed interdimentional travelers that had been transmitted from Foehammer's Pelican on his PDA.
"You're just saying that because it's cliché sir" Lieutenant Randall Habuki - Ran to his friends - stated in a voice that sounded like a cross between a Japanese and American Midwest accent as he watched a copy of the footage being shown on the Admiral's PDA on his own, "Besides Admiral-sama you have to admit they're intriguing" he paused as the footage changed to show the female of the two jumping out of the Pelican and boarding a Scarab using a grappling gun, "Very intriguing."
"Indeed" Admiral Whitcomb replied warily as his eyes shifted to look at the Lieutenant. It wasn't that Whitcomb didn't trust the ONI operative, he just trusted all ONI operatives about as far as he could throw them, which wasn't very far at all. Besides he knew that if ONI got their hands on that jump-suited girl he was watching right now things would end badly for her - very, very, badly - and considering how much more valuable she'd be if she were alive rather then dead he wasn't about to let that happen on his watch, not yet at least.
"Sir" a male voice said from across the room, effectively cutting off the Admiral's train of thought, "Reporting as ordered" the Marine continued as the rest of his squad filed in - the Pelican crew would be debriefed later.
"Take a seat people" Whitcomb said, gesturing to the gathered Marines as they did as ordered, "Now will your sergeant and our 'guest' be joining us, or do we have to send the Calvary in after them?" he asked, putting down his PDA and turning to the assembled Marines.
"Well . . ." Locklear began before being cut off by the sound of the door opening, and the forms of Sergeant Deborah Corly and Shego entering the room.
"Sorry we were late Sir, but me and the MPs had to get the green popinjay here to leave her guns at the door first" Corly quipped as she sat down in an available chair and jerked her thump in "Shego's" direction.
"Hey!" Shego spoke up, "You let the Master Chief run around your ships carrying half the UNSC arsenal, but you won't let me carry around a couple of M7s and . . . That modified assault rifle. What's up with that?!"
Habuki and Whitcomb blinked a couple of times at the green-tinted woman's outburst, it was contradicting to say the least; on the one hand she had described one of humanity's greatest heroes and one of the UNSC's advanced firearms like she'd known about them her entire life when she'd apparently only been in this universe a few hours, but on the other hand she had demonstrated a completely lack of knowledge when it came to describing a simple carbine. However, just as the two officers in the room were about to inquire about the young woman's declaration Sergeant Corly spoke up - beating them to the punch quite nicely.
"Because, as far as we're concerned you're an admitted super-villain who . . ."
"Hey!" Shego interjected sharply, "I never admitted to being a super-villain, it was Stoppable who said that!"
"Well the fact remains that . . ."
"Sergeant, stand down!" Whitcomb bellowed, "Now little missy, would you be so polite as to actually sit down" Shego did as she was told, scared out of wits from the tone of the Admiral's voice, "Good, now, lets start with the basics: Who are you?"
"I've got a better idea, how about cut a deal, then I talk" Shego stated as she stared at the Admiral intently.
"What kind of deal?" Whitcomb was irritated, but he kept his cool demeanor the entire time.
"I only thing I want is for ONI not to dissect me" Shego stated in an even tone.
"That's all?" Whitcomb was definitely surprised by this.
"Yep, as long as you make sure the Office of Naval Intelligence doesn't get a hold of me I'll tell you everything you want, in private" Shego wasn't going to be backing down on this, there was no way she was going to end up on some ONI dissection table if she had her way.
"Fair enough" Whitcomb conceded as he got out of his chair, "Lieutenant, debrief the Helljumpers for me, while me and the young lady here go into my office for a little 'chat'" he continued, patting Lt. Habuki on his shoulder before walking out of the room with the super-powered firebrand following close behind.
"All right" Habuki said as soon as the Admiral had left, "Tell me everything about your mission from the start, and leave nothing out."
The ODSTs shifted uncomfortably in their seats at the Lt.'s words, it was going to be a long night.
Basra Admiral's Office, a few minutes later
"OK" Whitcomb said as soon as the door to his office was closed, "We're alone, now I want answers."
"Whoa, settle down there . . ." Shego quickly scanned the room looking for something to help her think of a catchy nickname for the old Admiral, her eyes eventually falling upon the name plate resting on the desk, "Vice Admiral Danforth Whitcomb" she sated as her voice lost all of it's usual lippiness.
"Vice Admiral?" Whitcomb inquired, "Well as catchy as that sounds I'm afraid I'm a star below what you called me. Speaking of which, how did you know my name? And why did you call me Vice Admiral?"
"I need to lay down" Shego said as she plopped herself down on one of the available chairs, completely ignoring the Admiral's inquiries.
"What is it?" Whitcomb asked as crouched down next to the obviously disturbed young woman, keeping his cool demeanor the entire time.
"You're dead" Shego said simply.
"What?!" Whitcomb exclaimed blankly, there were very few things in the universe that could leave Danforth Whitcomb totally speechless, a beautiful young woman whom he'd just met telling him that he was dead was one of them. "Care to explain that statement miss?"
"Sure, but you might want to take a seat first, and you must understand that some of what I tell must never go beyond the walls."
"Okay" Whitcomb said tentatively as he got up and walked over to his desk before sitting down, "But you better be truthful with me, or else . . ." he left the rest unsaid; the effect of those unsaid words however wasn't lost on the pale skinned woman across from him as her face lost even more color.
Over the next eight and a half hours Shego painstakingly recounted every bit of information about the Halo franchise she'd ever learned to the Admiral. From the beginning of the franchise in the late 1990s to the latest map packs for Halo 2, she left nothing out, and through it all Admiral Whitcomb kept a straight poker face, well almost through all of it. When Shego described the part in First Strike where the Admiral had died he actually broke out laughing, "Well" he had said, "At least I went down fighting." After that however the conversation had proceeded as it had before with Shego pausing only to catch her breath every ten-twenty minutes, and forcibly expel the contents of her stomach every couple of hours.
". . . So that's how I knew so much" Shego finished after another round of talking, How Drakken does that on a regular basis I'll never know.
"Hmm" Whitcomb mused for the latest of times that day, "Well that's very interesting miss" it was beyond interesting, some of the things the young woman had told him, like the origins of the SPARTANs and the reason this Staff Sergeant Avery J. Johnson was able to survive the Flood, he'd never be able to tell anyone, but that was just fine with him - some things were better left unsaid - at least he knew why she wanted to keep ONI out of this; no-one wanted to die pointlessly in some 'non-existent' lab because the higher-ups couldn't take the time to find an alternative solution, "You still haven't answered my original question: What's your name?"
"Shego" the mint-tinted woman said without a second thought.
"That your real name?"
"No, that's why they call it a 'secret' identity" Shego said in a sarcastic tone as she made air quotes with her hands.
"No offense miss, but a secret identity's not going to do you any good over here" Whitcomb stated matter-of-factly, carefully gaging Shego's reactions.
"And why's that?" Shego asked, anger clearly evident in her voice.
"Three things: First, you don't wear a mask or any kind of disguise; second, your skin has a green tint to it - that's pretty recognizable; and third" Whitcomb paused, as though preparing himself to say something profound, "To be frank, Shego sounds like the lyrics to a song sung by some bad early 21st-century singer."
"What?!" Shego yelled as she jumped up from her seat, her hands bursting into green plasma fire. She was stunned, no-one had insulted her name before, no-one smart anyways, certainly not a Rear Admiral, yet here she was, having her entire persona torn apart by one of the most respected Admirals in the UNSC fleet. It felt . . . Odd: on the one hand was the respect she unconsciously felt towards the man telling her these things, and on the other was the blind unrelenting fury that burned within her against anyone who dared to criticize her; it was real wonder why her head didn't explode - at least to her.
"Settle down there missy" Whitcomb said evenly as he reached beneath the large wood colored Titanium-A desk and grabbed hold of the M6C Magnum Sidearm mounted on the underside for just such an occasion, "Bad things tend to happen when plasma weapons go off inside UNSC ships" he finished, bringing the M6C out from under the desk and leveling it at Shego's head for emphasis, all while keeping a completely emotionless mask on his face the entire time.
Shego's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as she stared down the Magnum's .50 barrel, her mind instantly starting a process of running through dozens of various possible outcomes for her situation, which was just a fancy way of saying that she was imagining - in extremely precise and gory detail - exactly what would happen to her body if one of the M228 12.7mm x 40mm SAP-HP (Semi-Armor-Piercing High-Penetration) rounds from the Magnum were to hit her in the head or neck - it wasn't a pretty sight. So needless to say, it only took a few seconds of the two warriors starring each other down before the young mint-hued woman finally relented and fell back onto the chair, her hands extinguishing as she did. "All right, I get the picture" she stated in a defeated voice as her face took on a look of self-pity.
"Good" Whitcomb said with a smile as he gently set the sidearm down on the desk, "Now are you willing to finally tell me what your real name is?" he asked gently, the last thing he needed was for this little meeting of his to go down the tubes, Of course he mused, There's always that guy in surgery.
Shego sighed, "There's no way I'm getting out of this is there?"
Whitcomb shook his head.
"I thought so" Shego said glumly, "OK then, my real name is . . ." she continued, pausing as though she was about to admit to something incredibly shameful, "Aurora . . . Elizabeth . . . Go" she finally got out through a strained voice and body, bracing herself for the beating that was sure to come.
Whitcomb blinked a couple of times, unable to process what his eyes and ears were telling him, "That's it?! That's what took you nine hours to get out?!"
"Yeah, well I don't usually just go around telling people my real name all willy-nilly" Shego said as her voice regained a lot of it's usual lippiness.
"So why'd you tell it to me?" Whitcomb asked, making his voice sound as genuinely curious as possible.
"Uh" Shego began, her voice oozing sarcasm as she raised her finger in a statement of objection, "Because you asked me, and because you pointed a .50 pistol at my head."
"Well first of all, you didn't have to answer my question; I asked it because it frankly just makes paper work a whole hell of a lot easier. And second of all, the reason I pulled that Magnum on you was, well, to be frank it looked like you were about to rend the flesh from my bones and feed me my own intestines."
"Eww" Shego said unconsciously, her face twisted into a look halfway between disgust and being completely grossed out.
"Yes" Whitcomb repeated contemplatively as he leaned forward, his hands clasped together just a few millimeters in front of his salt-and-pepper mustache, "Eww."
More then a few awkward moments passed in the small 8'x12' office in the silence that followed after the little back and forth between the Admiral and the raven-haired young woman sitting across from him. Perfectly quiet except for the distant, almost inaudible, ever-present, hum of the engines reverberating throughout the ship from the Titanium-A steel hull, and the regular, constant, ticking of the old-fashioned-style clock mounted up on the wall on the stern-side of the room. Shego didn't like it, it reminded her too much of the psychotherapists' offices she was forced to go to in the two months following the Rainbow-comet incident, and her impromptu 'camping' trip that followed just a few weeks afterward during which she discovered her powers. This comparison was not helped by the fact that Admiral Whitcomb wanted to learn everything he possibly could about her.
"So" Shego began as she reached into her leg pouch and brought out a heavily modified Swiss Army Knife, flipping it out to deploy a single nail file, "You were going to ask me about my past, right?" she finished as she began the to file her nails.
"Indeed" Whitcomb commented with a raised eyebrow, completely baffled as to how the firebrand sitting across from him could file her nails when she was wearing gloves, "Quid-pro-quo: you seem to know a lot about our universe, now I think it's only fair that you tell us everything there is to know about your's, especially you. You do, after all, want me to give a good report to Lord Hood right?"
Shego smirked; oh well, if she was going to have to have to reveal her past to this man then the least she could do is tint the UNSC's perceptions of her world in, ah, 'green light.' She was nowhere near stupid enough to outright lie to the Admiralty when there was still a chance Tiger could pull through, telling them that the Princess was a complete blooter wasn't lying though - at least from her point of view. "Why of course, I'd be happy to tell you everything you want to know" she said in a slight Texan accent.
"Cut the act, and get straight to the facts" Whitcomb demanded in a no-nonsense tone.
"Hey this ain't no act, I really am from Texas!" Shego yelled pointing her thumb towards her chest. Her father's family had been in the Lone Star state ever since the first American immigrants arrived in the state and it greatly offended her that someone would insinuate that she was faking her heritage.
"I was talking about the showmanship, not the accent."
"Oh" Shego said, a light red tint coming to her cheeks, "Well okay then, I suppose I should start at the beginning. I was born on June 28th, 1981 . . ."
/Error! Timestamp failure, Location unknown/
"Ron."
That voice, it was familiar, like an old friend whom he had known his entire life, or a lost love that he longed to be with. Ron felt like he should know it from somewhere.
"Ron" the voice called out again, it's tone staying soft and calming.
He really felt like he should answer, but at the moment he was just content to enjoy the warm glow that was filling his body.
"Ron, wake up my love."
"Kay . . . Pee?" Ron said tentatively as he began to shake the cobwebs from his mind.
"Yes Ron, it's me" the voice was getting close, very close, almost as if it was right above him.
"Kim?" Ron asked as his eyes slowly opened, the sight that greeted him took his breath away. It was Kim, her face was just inches away from his, she had her fire red hair done up in a traditional Japanese hairstyle, the morning sunlight coming in from the nearby open window reflecting and refracting off of every atom in her face, making it so that she seemed to be glowing, "Am I dead? 'Cause I think I'm in Heaven."
A small smile spread across Kim's face at Ron's semi-serious cliché, "Well you certainly aren't in Hell."
That was true, Ron conceded, if he was in Hell then it would have been Monkey Fist or DNAmy standing over him in an alluring fashion, or Monkey Fist and DNAmy. "Eww, grochy" he shuddered as soon as the thought entered his mind.
"Let me guess: you thought about it, didn't you?" Kim asked with an amused smile.
"Yes" Ron admitted.
Kim's smile grew even wider, "Well shake it off big boy 'cause we need talk" she said seriously before standing up.
"All right" Ron said as he propped himself up on the futon he was laying on, and noticed for the first time that not only was Kim wearing a sakura-patterned kimono, but he was also dressed in a suit of bamboo armor. However, it wasn't the fact that he was wearing the armor that made him raise his eyebrows, it made sense that he'd be wearing something like that since Kim was wearing a kimono, it was the design. The under garment was a basic black gi, nothing special there, the armor plating was what caught his eye; the 'plates,' if they could be called that, were made out of an extremely tightly woven bamboo thread, arranged in such a fashion that Ron looked like some bizarre cross between a feudal-era Japanese samurai, a US Army Ranger from the late-1990s/early-2000s, and a Covenant Elite, and painted a dark olive-drab green. The armor was light too, Ron felt like he could have done a quadruple backflip summersault easily, that is, if he actually knew how to do such an acrobatic maneuver without breaking every bone is his body.
"You coming Ron?" Kim asked from near the door at the other end of the small oriental-styled room, effectively cutting off Ron's train of thought.
"Sure KP" Ron said as he got up off the floor and dashed over to where Kim was standing, "You wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes, Ron I did" the red-headed young woman stated as she slip the rice paper door open and stepped out into the hallway, "Up for a walk?"
"With you KP? Always" Ron affirmed as he followed his life-long companion out into the hall.
The two heroes said nothing after that for several long minutes - though it seemed like hours - they just silently walked through the hallways of the Japanese dojo, marveling at the beautiful well kept garden just a few feet to their right, and stealing quick glances at each other when they thought their counterpart wasn't looking.
"KP" Ron finally spoke up when they reached a medium-sized courtyard with two kendo practitioners dueling in the center, and two hooded men playing chess in the corner, they were the only people besides Kim that he'd seen so far, yet he paid them no heed - his attention totally focused on his phoenix-haired companion - "What did you want to talk to me about?"
Kim stopped in her tracks, "It's hard to explain."
"Please Kim, whatever it is I can handle it" Ron was getting worried, not much could make his best friend since Pre-K freeze up like she had.
Kim took a deep breath, collected her sensibilities, and prepared herself for what she was about to say, "Ron I never thought I'd say this, but . . . You take yourself way too seriously."
"Whaaaaat?"
"You've been acting way too seriously for the past couple of weeks" she continued, "And . . . And it's scarring me. You used to be so care-free and full of child-like wonder, and now . . . And now you're acting like . . ."
"Acting like what KP? Please, whatever it is tell me" Ron pleaded.
Kim turned her head off to the side and down onto the floor, and mumbled something intelligible under her breath, almost as if she were ashamed of what she was saying.
"I'm sorry, my hearing must be going bad, what was that again?" Ron questioned, sticking his finger in his ear and twisting it around in an attempt to clean out any errant earwax.
"Lee Adama" Kim repeated meekly as a streak of red spread across her face.
"Kim. I know I've been using my 'serious face' a lot lately, but . . . Wait a second, Lee Adama?!" Ron exclaimed, surprise clearly evident on his face.
The blush on Kim's face deepened.
"Ooookaaaaay" Ron continued, "Ignoring your totally out of character bout of fangirlism" Kim's face rapidly turned the color of her hair at his remark, "The reason I've been acting so seriously lately is because I just wanted to protect you."
Kim's expression immediately saddened at Ron's words, "Ron, you never needed to protect me" he raised his right eyebrow at her words, "OK, sometimes I need help, but you have to admit that most of the time I can handle myself" his face took on an slightly accusing look, "Alright already! I like to live dangerously, and I attract trouble like a magnet, are you happy now?"
Ron started smiling like the cat who caught the canary.
"I'll take that as a yes" Kim smiled as her face took on the most reassuring look she could muster, "But the fact still remains that I don't want the man I love destroying who he is because he feels that he needs to protect me from the stuff I do at least twice a week, if not more."
Ron's face creased at her words, "I wasn't just hearing things back there, was I?"
"No" Kim admitted, "I've felt that way about you for a long time. I just haven't talked about it because, well, I was afraid. Afraid that if I just started pouring my feelings out all at once that . . ."
"That it would ruin our friendship" Ron finished somberly.
"Yeah" Kim affirmed, "And, I was also afraid that if we did start dating that it would only be a matter of time until you broke up with me, especially after the Moodulator incident."
Ron shifted uncomfortably at the thought of his friend's insecurities being caused by his attempt to stave off the destruction of their friendship in a flood of emotions before gathering up the courage to respond. "Kim, you know I would never do anything to hurt you. Why would you think that?" he asked soulfully.
"Well, it's just that you're this nice, upstanding, sweet, cute, good looking . . ." by this time Ron had begun to examine himself with wide eyes, wondering just what in God's great finite universe Kim saw in him, ". . . kind, caring man who any sane woman would be elated to be with, and as for me: I'm . . . I'm just the cheerleader" she finished dejectedly.
"KP" Ron said reassuringly, "I've been by your side since the day we first met all the way back on our first day of Pre-K, why would you think that I wouldn't want to be with you just because you're cheerleader? That doesn't even make sense!"
"Well, there is a stigma around cheerleaders Ron" by this time tears were freely flowing down her face, "That we think about is the 'food chain', that we won't even consider being with someone, even for a moment, unless they're a jock, that every single one of us is nothing but a stuck-up bi . . ."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa" Ron interrupted, gesticulating in a motion that clearly said for Kim to slow down, "I've been around cheerleaders a long time, and you know that I've never believed that."
"I know that, Ron, I know" Kim said as the tears in her eyes began to clear, "But I was never afraid that you would fall for that, I was afraid that I would."
"Huh?"
"Think about it, considering who I am it's only a matter of time before I do something incredibly stupid and selfish to seriously hurt you - intentionally or not."
"KP, where on Earth did you get a crazy idea like that?" Ron asked seriously as he put his left hand on Kim's right shoulder reassuringly.
"Internet" Kim answered simply.
Ron started to blink several times at what he had just heard, "KP, I'm shocked" he exclaimed, putting his right hand over his heart as he feigned disgust, "You know better then to believe everything you find on the Internet."
A pregnant pause erupted between the two friends after their string of off-topic statements for several seconds before it was once again broken by Ron. "But in all seriousness, you were never in any danger of rejection KP."
"Why, what would you have done if I had told you?" Kim asked, her voice filled with hope as she spoke.
"Oh, something along the lines of this" Ron spoke before wrapping his arms around his best friend in an uncharacteristic display of boldness, and full on kissing her on the lips in what could only have been described as a kiss that was 'so the drama.'
"Ah, booya" Kim spoke breathlessly with a slightly dazed look in her eyes a minute and a half later after their lips had finally parted.
"I really do love you Kim, I loved you for longer then I could possibly know . . . Or remember" Ron said in a loving tone as he gazed deeply into Kim's palm leaf green eyes as he held her in his arms, Palms he mused to himself, The ancient symbol for victory if I remember properly - fitting beyond measure for KP.
Kim giggled a little at her love's last moment addition to his declaration before responding in kind, "I was going to say the same thing Ron, though I'd say I started feeling this way about the time I was five."
Ron's eyes became as wide as saucers at her statement, "That long?!" he exclaimed.
"Mmmhum" Kim affirmed, "I love you too Ron."
They started to lean in for another kiss before their moment was interrupted by a voice echoing through the feudal Japanese-styled compound.
"Admiral Whitcomb, sir." the British accented female voice exclaimed.
"Ron, what's going on?" Kim asked, worry clearly evident in her voice.
"At ease Doctor" a Texan-accented voice answered back to the first, "So how's our guest doing?"
"Stable, sir. We put him in an artificial coma for the next few days to hopefully rest his body, though to be honest sir he's lucky to have survived his injuries at all. That he did so without any brain damage . . . Is an act of God" the first voice said in a disbelieving tone.
"I thought you were an atheist" it was more of a statement, then a question.
"I was, sir."
"I don't know KP, I don't know" Ron spoke before his vision was overcome by an intense light.
/Timestamp fixed, location lock reestablished, connecting, please stand by/
1835 hours, July 6, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
Medical Ward 3 onboard the UNSC Vessel Basra.
Currently in Slipspace en-route to FLEETCOM Sector One - the Epsilon Eridani system.
Ron's right eye twitched as his mind began to un-crease itself from it's long sleep. He opened his eye only to be confronted by the blinding white light of one the fluorescent lights above is bed. Wait a second, bed? Since when was he in a bed? Did his head always hurt this much? And since when did he only have one eye?!
"You're awake" a male voice said from the right side of his bed, "Hey everybody, the new guy's up!"
"Hey, new guy!"
"About time, I thought he was just going to lay there for the entire trip."
"Doctor Chakwas! Doctor Chakwas!"
"Whoa, I can't believe he's actually alive."
"I was pretty sure he was dead."
"Get the Admiral down here now."
"You sleep well Tiger?"
"What?!" Ron jerked up, nearly ripping the IV line in arm right out as soon as he heard the last voice. It couldn't be, there was no way his luck was that bad. There was no way. He slowly turned his head to his left, his breathing becoming more and more shallow until he eventually came face to face - so to speak - with . . . "Shego!" Ron exclaimed, but wait. There was something different about her: for one, her signature green and black jumpsuit was gone, replaced with an average hospital gown, and for another she had spoken with a Texan accent, Ron had almost not recognized the voice as her.
"Yes?" she replied in a sarcastic tone from her own bed as she put down the issue of Better Fortresses and Firearms she had been reading, "Can I help you?"
Ron blinked for a moment as he tried to get his bearings before finally giving up and asking the obvious, "What happened? Why am I here?"
Shego smiled slightly, Might as well have some fun with him before the doctors come she thought slyly to herself. "Well Ron" she began in a serious tone, "Last night you showed up at one of the bars I usually frequent complaining that the Princess was being too hard on you, and I decided, for whatever reason, that I'd sit down and listen to your problems. Now by that time you were pretty hammered - which is why you probably don't remember anything - but I listened and drank with you anyways, and pretty soon one thing led to another and the next thing I know we're back at my place and engaging in a marathon of extremely passionate love-making for the rest of the night. Oh, and by the way, I just found out that I'm now pregnant with your child, so unless y'all want to find out what the business end of my daddy's shotgun looks like I suggest that you find a ring and quick." Shego was lying through her teeth of course, she rarely drank, and as far as she knew she was still a virgin - and after seeing what kinds of sexually transmitted diseases existed she fully intended to stay that way.
Ron's eye grew as wide as a saucer and starting twitching as he stared at Shego and processed what he'd been told, completely oblivious to the other members of the Medical Ward's struggles not to laugh. "What happened to my eye?" he exclaimed as he pointed to the left side of his face.
"Oh, sorry about that. I tend to get a little frisky in bed. Don't worry though, it will all be healed up shortly" by this time Shego was just about ready to burst at the seems with laughter and was barely keeping herself together.
"All right then" Ron said sadly as tears started to roll down his face, "Time for the Ron-man to step up."
At that moment all of Shego's mental barriers dropped and both she and several of the other patients in the ward burst out in uncontrollable fits of laughter.
"What's so funny?" Ron asked in a disbelieving tone just before realization hit him like a skydiving cow on a clear summer's day. "Oh" he stated in a incredulous tone, "So that's how it is."
Shego's laughter came to an abrupt halt as soon as she saw the look upon Ron's face, it was cold, serious, unnerving. She had only seen that face two times before, but every single time it had turned her, and anybody crazy enough to look at it, blood to ice. It was Ron's 'uber-serious face,' a face that he had only used four times before in his entire life, a face that channeled all the angst, bitterness, sorrow, anger, rage, defeat, and any other negative emotion he had ever felt into one single expression. The fact that the entire left side of his face was wrapped in bandages only served to amplify the general scariness that he was projecting.
"I'm sorry" Shego whimpered softly, feeling extremely small and humiliated at that moment, "It won't ever happen again."
A smile spread across Ron's face, "That was pretty funny" he said honestly. He had never wanted to emasculate the young, beautiful, and extremely dangerous young woman, or would it be efemulate? He could never really be sure. Anyways, he had only wanted to . . . Well, I guess he was just building up for a joke. He had half expected her to just laugh his expression off. Man Ron sighed, Why do girls always have to be so ninja about things?
Shego's eyebrow raised at Tiger's statement, "What . . ." she began before being cut off by the young blond.
"So is anybody gonna tell me what really happened?" Ron asked as he looked around at the other people in the ward, completely missing Shego doing a pretty fair impression of her mother as he did so.
"Oh man" the patient who had originally addressed Ron when he first woken up said, "You mean you don't know?! Man, it's been all over the ship ever since we left Atlanta III."
"Hey genius" another patient, who was clearly marked as a member of the 101st Orbital Drop Shock Battalion by the gold comet tattoo on his bicep, said sarcastically, "He was in coma for the last week and a half, there's no way he could possibly have known about the gossip going around the ship."
"Oh, right, sorry about that sir" the first patient amended.
"Eh, no big" Ron replied, once again missing Shego's reaction, this time her rolling her eyes at his use of Kim's catchphrase.
"Well, OK then" the first patient replied, "So, you want me to tell you what happened?" he continued, completely ignoring Aurora slapping her forehead with her hand and making a 'd'oi' expression on her face.
"I think I'll handle that son" a Texan accented voice said from the entrance of the ward. At those words everyone turned to look as Rear Admiral Danforth Whitcomb entered the ward. "So" he began, addressing Stoppable and crossing his arms in a compulsive gesture, "Word is you don't seem to remember what happened down on the planet. So, is that true son?"
"Ah, I suppose" Ron said, suddenly feeling very uneasy about the way the bald salt-and-pepper mustached man was looking at him, "All I remember is some crazy dream about Shego and I winding up in a video game, being picked up by some Helljumpers and a pilot named Foehammer, and attacking some heavily modified Scarab, then, nothing" Ron continued, conveniently leaving out any mention of the extremely personal experience he'd had immediately after the first dream.
"But of course, that'd be impossible, right?" Whitcomb added, carefully judging the young man's reaction.
"Anything's possible . . ." Ron repeated with a smile, ". . . For a Possible."
Whitcomb raised his right eyebrow at the blonde's use of what he had learned from Aurora was the Possible family motto - frankly, it just sounded like pure arrogance to him. While Aurora herself just closed her eyes, stuck out her tongue, and put her index finger halfway into her open mouth in a expression that just screamed 'bleah!'
"But then again, I'm a Stoppable not a Possible" Ron continued glumly yet with a hint a of great pride.
"Hmm, I'll say" Whitcomb said with a smile, "That was no dream you had son, you really did help those ODSTs, you really did take down that Scarab, and you really are onboard a Marathon-class Cruiser en route to Reach!"
Ron's jaw dropped in disbelief at the man's statement.
"Oh, how rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself to y'all. My name is Rear Admiral Danforth Whitcomb."
Ron completely lost all feeling in his jaw as it went totally slack.
"I think you broke him Danny-boy" Shego said jokingly, ecstatic to actually be speaking for once and not just making various gestures and expressions with her hands and face in the background.
"Danny-boy?" several of the patients in the ward asked, shocked that someone would say that to the Admiral's face, or about him at all for that matter.
Whitcomb blinked a couple of times at everyone's surprise, "What?" he asked, somewhat sardonically, "She doesn't have nicknames for all of you too?" To be honest Whitcomb was quite surprised when Aurora had started calling him that, but once he had noticed her calling everyone that was still up and about the ship by a nickname of one sort or another he had gotten over it pretty quickly. Her getting motion sickness from Slipspace travel, however, had taken a bit longer to get used to, especially since she flat out told him, quote, 'The only way you're getting me into one of those coffins you call a cryo stasis tube is if you kill me first.'
"What's she doing here then?" Ron finally asked, pointing to Shego, after the initial shock had worn off.
"Medical reasons" Shego huffed, crossing her arms, "Apparently Doc Chakwas finds my body 'fascinating' . . . That, and I seem to puke at irregular intervals so running around the ship really isn't an option for me" she continued dejectedly, using air quotes when saying 'fascinating.'
"But why don't you just go into stasis then?" Ron said, asking the obvious.
"None of your beeswax!" Shego replied hotly.
"Okay" Ron quickly agreed, unwilling to get into an argument with the firebrand villainess that would almost certainly lead to pain and suffering in the near future. "But what about . . ." Ron began, pointing to the bandaged side of his face.
"The doctor says it will be all right within a week, and that it's a miracle you're alive at all. She flash-cloned you a new eye so you'll be see just fine, but there will be a scar there for sure. However, she was able to make some cosmetic grafts to it so it looks more like a big cut then a giant birthmark" Whitcomb spoke quickly, finishing up Stoppable's question.
"Badical!" Ron exclaimed before asking in a far more curious tone, "Next question, what happened to my clothes?"
"Oh" Whitcomb exclaimed, realization hitting him like a platypus in a snowball fight, "I forgot to tell you. All of y'all's clothing and gear has been locked up for the R&D boys, considering just how advanced that stuff is. Took long enough too, after surgery it took about half an hour for Doctor Chakwas to remove that suit of your's - kept regenerating and whatnot."
"Hehheh, ya Wade really does do good work with that kinda stuff" Ron replied sheepishly.
"Which brings me to another . . . Miss Go, please stop making comical gestures when you think no-one's looking" Aurora abruptly stopped what she was doing, tucked her hands behind her back, and brought an innocent expression to her face before bringing her right hand around to her front and mouthing 'who, me?'
"Oh boy" Whitcomb sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing, "As I was saying, all the functions on that PDA you brought with you except the communication function are locked, and considering what Miss Go here has told us it would be a huge intelligence windfall to have copies of the files on that device."
"The Kimmunicator?! Why do you think you'd find files you can use on that?" Ron asked nervously.
"Because despite your obvious abundance of external strength and abilities I believe that you are a man that harbors a vast inner-geekiness and who feels the need to collect large amounts of science fiction and video game trivia" Whicomb responded as his eyes narrowed.
"I'm sorry, was there a compliment in there?" Ron asked half-sarcastically/half-curiously.
"Look, can you just give me the pass-code already?" Whitcomb asked in an exasperated tone, rolling his eyes.
"Uh sure, not like you guys aren't going to hack it anyways if I don't tell you," Ron replied, his voice losing some of it's nervousness, "The code is 7161988."
"Why'd y'all choose that code Tiger?" Shego asked rhetorically.
"It's Kim's birthday," Ron replied in a love-struck/far-off voice.
"Ugh, could be any more sappy?" Shego responded as she fell back down onto the bed, "You're like a kicked puppy, you know that?"
"I think I'll leave you two be," Whitcomb said as he turned and left to input the code into the 'Kimmunicator.'
"Oh!" Ron exclaimed as the Admiral was about to leave the ward, "I forgot to ask, what's going to happen to us?"
Whitcomb paused for a second before saying in a flat tone, "As soon as we enter the Epsilon Eridani system we'll transmit the various reports from the mission to HIGHCOM and enter orbit around Reach, after that . . . It's up to Lord Hood and the Admiralty." He elected to leave the ward at that moment, leaving the two travelers to contemplate what was going to happen to them.
"Her hair smells like strawberries, you know" Ron said with an evil grin after a few minutes.
"Ahh! I don't want to hear it!" Shego yelled as she covered her head with her pillow.
A/N: Okay, this was definitely my 'fun-chapter.' A break, if you will, before we get back into the drama with chapter 4. I'm allowed to have one of those in a story.
Whitcomb's standing up for Aurora, I think, is him kinda projecting a bit onto her. Maybe he sees something in her that he once saw in his own daughter. Why would he feel the need to do that? Well, maybe his daughter was killed when the Covenant came and glassed the planet she was on, it wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened, and it won't be the last time ether.
Ron's dream: Okay, now before any of you ask: yes, this sequence is based off of Baltar's delusions in Battlestar Galactica (And yes, Kim was referencing said show when she said that Ron was acting like Lee Adama). Which is to say, the versions of people there are idealized, they are basically the person's subconscious. Now, will we be seeing more of Ron's fantasy dojo? Hard to say. As you'll soon learn, not all is as it seems.
Ron's eye: Now, I know a lot of you think that I'm cheating you on this, or that Ron should have suffered a bit more, but keep in mind that this is the 26thcentury. Medical technology has advanced significantly in the last five centuries. In fact, during First Strike Dr. Halsey replaces several of Kelly's organs while she is fully alert and very conscious, however, you might say 'well Kelly's a SPARTAN' well true, but keep in mind that Ron has his MMP so he's not completely powerless. Besides, there is the argument that after fighting the Covenant for so long that the UNSC would develop superior methods of treating burns given that the Covies use almost exclusively plasma weapons. So in the end, eh, might as well run with it.
Shego: Some (Most) of you might be thinking that Shego's OOC right about now. Well, you'd be right, but Aurora isn't. She's now in an entirely different universe with little of her old past to weigh her down, and she's going to use this opportunity to build an entirely new persona for herself, free of all the clutter and attempted murder accusations of her previous life. As far as she's concerned, there may not be a market for villains in the UNSC, but they are always in need of heroes. Besides, she really doesn't want to get shot for doing anything illegal.
The Covenant: Alright, now some of you might be thinking, why? Why didn't the Covenant glass Atlanta III outright? Why did they allow so many humans to escape? Well, if you've read the first three Halo novels then you'll have some idea of why they did that. Foreboding ain't it?
Well, the next chapter will focus entirely on Kim and the Wolfpack, and I shall begin writing it as soon as I can. However, if you want to get out faster then I suggest you leave a review, specifically one including the phrase 'get off your lazy butt and start writing!' (I also reserve the right to be cheeky too) Also, if you do leave a review make sure to point out any error, inaccuracies, and/or inconsistencies, however minor, you may find - I'm a nut when it comes to that stuff. Well, until next time . . .
Sic Semper Tyrannus
Carry on.
