*** [ KP / ME ]

What If We Don't Graduate?

(A Kim Possible / Mass Effect Crossover)

Chapter 7: Whispers at Night

*** [ KP / ME ]

Warmonga stared at the rectangular pieces of waxed paper and furrowed her brow. Each piece of paper displayed a certain number of symbols of certain shapes both the number and the shape were significant and she was expected to determine which of the rectangles were most advantageous in the battle and retain them. The others were to be exchanged for additional rectangles that might, or might not, prove to be more useful. Furthermore, her opponents were studying her movements, trying to determine the strength of her rectangles and hopefully outmaneuvering her. But she was not a princess of war for nothing.

With a flourish she flung the rectangles before her enemy and smiled.

"Straight flush," she declared proudly.

Warhok roared angrily and then picked up the folding table and flung it across the jail cell. It crashed into the opposite wall and fell to the ground, scattering playing cards everywhere.

"Damn you, Warmonga! Your luck in this pitiful battle simulation is uncanny!" he yelled.

Warmonga folded her arms smugly. "You are a sore loser," she said.

"I know that these pathetic cards mean nothing compared to the strength of a mighty warrior!" bellowed Warhok.

Warmonga rolled her eyes and sat back on one of the bunks. "Your shouting is hurting my ears." She leaned back on the bed and put the pillow over her face. "Let me know when you want to be civilized."

Warhok stared at his battlemate and his lips curled back in a seething sneer. "This world has poisoned you! You become more like these humans by the day! We should be trying to destroy this cell and seek revenge on those that have captured us!"

"We tried that," came Warmonga's voice, muffled by the pillow. "The scabs on my fists still haven't healed over."

"Then we should try again! Try harder!" said Warhok.

Warmonga sighed and then pulled the pillow off her face and put it behind her head. "There is no cowardice in recognizing futility," she quoted.

"Meaningless prattle!"

"No, there is battle wisdom in it," said Warmonga. "We will waste ourselves and our time bashing against these walls forever. If we want to escape, then we must pick the right time, or we will end up right back where we started." She turned on her side, facing away from Warhok. "Besides, I like these 'pillows' and the bed made of foam. I do not wish to give them up again."

"Weak," spat Warhok. "You have lost the right to your title."

"We both lost those long ago," said Warmonga without turning. "And our failure to dominate this simple planet is proof we no longer deserve them."

Warhok clenched his fists so tightly he almost began to bleed. Then he abruptly relaxed, sighed, and sat on the other cot, hanging his head.

"If only the Great Blue were real," he said. "He could have led us to victory."

Warmonga stared at the wall, frowning slightly at the imperfections on the surface. "We'll find him," she said softly. "He must exist." She closed her eyes.

There a was a sudden knocking sound and one of the far walls began to slide away exposing the familiar 'interrogation room' with the metal table and fixed chairs. Once again, Dr. Director was sitting there and the hulking blue biotic 'Hego' stood beside her.

"We're not in the mood," said Warmonga from the bed. "Go away."

Dr. Director then stood and walked over to the cell, her boots clacking loudly on the steel plated floor. "Sorry to disturb your sleep," said Dr. Director. She sounded strangely earnest in her statement, very different from the arrogant mocking she normally engaged in. "But we have questions that need answers now."

"Why should we help you?" asked Warhok. "You are nothing."

"Yes, yes, I know your stock phrases," dismissed Dr. Director with the wave of her hand. She focused her eye on Warmonga. "It's her I want to speak to."

"She will tell you nothing," said Warhok. "It is a waste of your time."

"I'll take that risk," said Dr. Director.

Warmonga turned slowly on the bed and looked down at Dr. Director, who was standing just on the other side of the line where the wall slid away. She knew it was a precaution, so they could shut it in an instant if either of them got violent. It was an amusing distraction days ago, but now Warmonga recognized the futility in it. As she had in a great many things.

"What's got you so nervous?" asked Warmonga.

Dr. Director held up a folder and pulled several large pieces of paper with colors on them. "These entered our system last night and are approaching at an incredible speed."

They appeared to be blurry pictures of three large objects against a black background. There were a couple angles taken on each object, enough to make out the general shape of a Lorwardian Interdictor-class

Warmonga sat up suddenly and looked at the pictures with wide eyes. The center ship of the three had all her attention because of the large orange cross etched into the bow. It was unmistakable. They had noticed what happened.

She looked to Warhok, who was casually ignoring the pictures and Dr. Director entirely. He hadn't even noticed. She reached out and grabbed his collar roughly, pulling him towards the pictures and pointing.

"That is the Ascendant!" she hissed.

Warhok shook his head. "Couldn't be," he said before looking. He leaned forward to stare at the picture. "Why would the Gairm be out this..." he trailed off as he studied the picture. He was coming to the same realization she had. "They followed us."

"Who followed you?" asked Dr. Director rather pointedly.

Warhok looked at Warmonga and she shook her head in reply. "We are dead," she said.

"What? Why?" asked Dr. Director. She threw the pictures back in her folder and pointed at Warmonga. "You have some explaining to do right now!"

"It is futile," said Warmonga, using her new favorite word. "You cannot possibly hope to defeat the Gairm's Ironlord. Surrender yourself and maybe she'll make it quick."

"I don't accept that!" said Dr. Director. "You're on this planet too, remember. If this Gairm attacks you're bound to get caught in the crossfire."

Warmonga laughed loudly. "Caught in the crossfire?" She laughed some more. "She is coming for us. And she will destroy everything we've touched in the process."

"What if we just jettison you into space?" grinned Dr. Director.

"Then she'll kill you for stealing what is her duty to carry out," said Warmonga.

"Fine, then we'll negotiate turning you safely over to them," said Dr. Director.

"Her opening 'bid' will be your complete destruction," said Warhok. "You don't understand. The Gairm doesn't care about you. You are nothing. Insignificant. Not even worth their attention. They will destroy you simply because you have us."

"We have a big planet," said Dr. Director. "That's a lot of work just because we're there."

Warmonga shrugged. "So they won't bother to finish the job, but they'll ruin this whole continent of yours before they leave."

"Why?!" shouted Dr. Director, clearly losing her composure. "What did you DO that is going to end up dooming US?"

Warmonga studied the small human woman. She was annoying, smug, and insufferably confident in her people despite their weakness. She was admirable. But it would not save her from Ironlord. It was a pity. At least, in her final hours, she would know that it wasn't her own fault.

"We stole from the Gairm," said Warmonga.

"Warmonga!" said Warhok sharply. "Do not give in to their interrogation!"

"It doesn't matter, Warhok," said Warmonga. "Whether she knows or not she will die all the same. And us with her."

"What did you steal?" asked Dr. Director.

"The Song of Victory," said Warmonga sadly.

"You betray our people!" said Warhok.

Warmonga leapt to her feet and poked Warhok firmly with her finger. "They betrayed us first! They lied to us and used those lies to shackle our Lords! You know this as well as I!"

"I do not believe it as readily as you," said Warhok, evenly. "I am sure they had their reasons."

"Then state them!" she snapped. "Tell me the truth so that I can hear it for the first time."

Warhok stared back silently but did not falter beneath Warmonga's gaze.

"What is the Gairm?" asked Dr. Director. "And this Song?"

"Say nothing," instructed Warhok but Warmonga turned away from him and sat to be level with Dr. Director.

"In the dark times, before our people learned to speak, there was the Song," said Warmonga. "And the Song united us. It told us that in the age before, the Great Blue, a Lorwardian warrior, rose up and led our people to fight back the night and the Gibberlings that swarm there to give us a another chance. Then he saved us from our greatest enemies, the enslavers, giving his life for us in the process."

"The Great Blue is a legend?" asked Dr. Director. "A hero of your people?"

"We were always told as such," said Warmonga. "But it was a lie."

"The Great Blue is not a lie!" shouted Warhok.

"Not entirely, but he is not a legend," said Warmonga. "He is real."

"Of course he's real," said Warhok. "The Gairm always said he was real."

"They spoke of him like he was a symbol," said Warmonga. "A banner for our people. Did we not steal the Song just to use it that way?"

"We stole it to rally our people, not destroy their faith!" said Warhok angrily.

"Wait, wait," Dr. Director said holding up a hand. "I don't understand. What happened? Who are the Gairm?"

"The Gairm are the keepers of our culture, the Choir for the Song," said Warmonga.

"They lead your people?" asked Dr. Director.

Warmonga shook her head. "In part. We have our Lords, and they are our greatest warriors, commanders of the largest armies and make decisions for our conquered worlds. But they sing the Song as well. The Song given to them by the Gairm."

"Religion," said Dr. Director. "The Gairm are your religious leaders."

"But they lie to us," said Warmonga with a deep frown.

Dr. Director shrugged. "That sounds about right." She shook her head. "So, the Song. I assume this is more than sheet music."

"It is a recording," said Warmonga. "A memory, left by the true ones that came before: the Protheans."

"What's a Prothean?" asked Dr. Director.

"The Asari call them that. They are the great builders, the ones who made the mass relays but went extinct before any of our people opened their eyes to light." Warmonga looked down. "I had always thought these stories fantasy. The propaganda of the insufferable Asari. But I was wrong. They speak the truth, and we were the ones lied to."

"I don't understand, what IS the Song if it's not a legend?" asked Dr. Director. "How did you even steal a 'memory' as you said?"

"It's a record," explained Warmonga, looking up. "Found on our planet when we were still using stone weapons. The Great Blue is an alien not a Lorwardian - who came to protect our people against the Rachni, but couldn't prevent his own people from being exterminated. So he went into stasis to wait it out. He still lives, somewhere, waiting to be awakened." She looked at Warhok who was barely containing his anger. "We broke into the Gairm's Temple to make a copy of the original Song of Victory because we wanted to use it to rally our our people in our war against the Batarians. But when we saw what we had... everything changed."

"For you, it changed," said Warhok.

Dr. Director turned away and looked off to the side. "Why here? Why did you come to Earth after watching the recording?"

"There was some information in the record, speaking of races the Great Blue saved," said Warmonga. "We didn't recognize one of them. Nothing in the whole extranet existed on this strange, simple, small race. We searched everywhere but nobody had heard of them. We even captured a Geth to see if they had known who these pink people were beyond the Veil. They didn't. So we searched. We activated relays. We went beyond the reaches of Council space to find them." She looked between Dr. Director and Hego. "We found you."

"Us?" said Dr. Director, turning on her foot.

"The lost race," said Warmonga. "I was sure the Great Blue had to be among you. For you to be so prosperous, so isolated from the conflict in the galaxy, it had to be his doing!" She sighed. "But apparently it was not."

Dr. Director leaned against one of the walls of the cell. "I barely understand all that, but tell me: what are those ships out there? Why are they after you? All you have is a copy."

"The Gairm seeks to silence us, and anyone who knows the truth of the Song," said Warmonga. "They must, or their lies will be exposed."

Dr. Director's eyes went wider. "You're telling me, on those ships out there, are religious zealots who are going to destroy everyone who knows about this Prothean record?"

Warmonga nodded.

Dr. Director turned and staggered to the opening in the room. "Good lord," she said. She looked at Hego. "They'll never negotiate." She looked up and then quickly ran off across the interrogation room and through a doorway that opened just as she got near.

Warmonga watched her leave and then laid back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I don't understand why you came back," said Hego suddenly, and Warmonga was surprised he had a voice.

"Back where?" asked Warmonga.

"To Earth," said Hego. "You didn't find the Great Blue here, so you left. Then you came back. For what? What does conquering Earth get you in your search?"

"Nothing," said Warmonga, dismissively.

"Then why?" pressed Hego.

Warmonga grumbled.

"Don't you have a reason? Was it just spite?" asked Hego.

"What does it matter?" asked Warmonga, turning over to bury her face in the pillow.

"You don't sound like an evil person," said Hego. "Angry, sure, but you came here trying to find a savior."

"Don't paint my life with your morals, human," said Warmonga. She lifted her head. "I wanted the Great Blue to lead my people to victory over our enemies."

"All soldiers want victory in battle," said Hego. "That alone is not indefensible."

"I waged war on your planet when I knew it could not stand against me!" said Warmonga. "I tried to kill your people!"

"And you will be the cause of death when this battle begins," said Hego. "That's why I'm trying to figure out why."

Warhok suddenly sat up and glared at Hego. "We came back to offer your worthless planet as a prize to our Lord so that he'd give us our title back for abandoning the army." He scowled. "Happy?"

Hego frowned. "You deserted?"

"We went on a wild chase to find this Great Blue, but as you can see there was nothing to show for it," said Warhok. "Your planet would have been a good bargaining tool to regain our positions."

"That's it? Just a convenience?" asked Hego.

"What did you expect, human?" said Warhok.

Hego looked down and then backed a few steps out of the room. "I thought there might be more." He turned but didn't walk away. "I have a sister, you know. She's very powerful, and has a short temper that has caused her to do some very foolish things. She's too proud to admit that she's ever acted out of anger and so plays this game where she pretends everything she has ever done was intentional. But I've seen the guilt in her eyes." He turned his head slightly back. "Maybe I thought you had something in common with her. But I guess not."

He looked ahead and walked across the interrogation room as the steel wall between the cell and the room slid shut.

*** [ KP / ME ]

Captain Anderson stood on the bridge of the Normandy, staring out the windows of the bridge with his hands held behind him. Around him, the bridge was filled with activity as Alliance soldiers, still getting used to flying the large Lowardian ship around the Earth at incredible speed, urgently passed messages to one another on statistics, configuration, and power levels. To the right were a number of helmsmen watching the one designated pilot gently nudge the nose of the ship to point in the directions the sciences team were telling him the enemy was coming from. To the left was a giant holographic map showing the positions of the dozen ships around the Normandy, taking up formation.

It was a last minute decision, but one Anderson supported, to put the Normandy out in front of the fleet. He had the most experience nearly a week flying in space, and the Normandy was far and away the largest ship they had. The ExoSim based cruisers were tiny compared to the Normandy, and even the ISS in orbit to the south looked small in comparison. Putting their 'flagship' at the front was a show of force, in the hopes that the enemy would choose not to fight such a powerful looking defense. It was a feint, of course, but one that was worth trying.

"Enemy ships on screen," reported the navigator, an older man named Pressley.

Anderson looked up to see the three dots barely visible against darkness of space. "Can we magnify that?" he asked.

Pressley turned his head to consult with a group of officers at the rear scanning stations. "We can put it on the map screen," he finally said.

The holographic map shrunk and a large window took its place showing the three ships coming towards them. They all bore some resemblance to the Normandy, being rectangular with only a slight curve and a few protrusions to the sides. There were two ships about the same size flanking a larger ship that was nearly twice as big.

Most of the chatter on the bridge quieted as they stared at the screen.

"Okay, so she's a bit large," said Anderson, expecting the reaction from his crew. "But we've got superior numbers."

"Captain," interrupted Pressley. "It's bigger than you think. Put the scaled view up, Adams."

The picture of the three ships suddenly turned to wireframes and the large ship was lined up at the nose with one of the ships beside it. Then a new ship appeared that was a little more than a third as large as the smaller ship. A tag appeared beside the new ship that said NORMANDY.

"The enemy lead ship is almost six times larger than us," said Pressley.

The graphic changed again and tiny ship was added at the bottom, looking no bigger than a dot. It was labeled 'Alliance ExoSim Ship.'

Anderson stared.

"Well, it'll be a quick battle, then," said the pilot.

"Now isn't the time for jokes, ensign," said Pressley.

"If not now..." trailed off the joker.

A new screen appeared beside Anderson's chair showing a black square with a glowing blue light in the center. "Anderson-captain," said the voice of Legion. "Based on information in the Lorwardian databases, the lead ship is called the Ascendant, and is one of three Interdictor class ships in record. These are capital ships estimated to hold between seventy-five to two hundred troops. The two other ships are unregistered, but are Torvalis-class destroyers. Crew compliment: fifty-seven. Total combined troop count between one-hundred-and-eighty-nine and three-hundred-and-fourteen."

"Thank you, Legion," said Anderson. "I'll inform the rest of the Alliance." He hesitated and then decided to venture, "Can I ask where the Kepler is right now?"

"You may ask," replied the glowing light and then the screen vanished.

"Hmph," grunted Anderson.

"Oh, so the robot gets to joke," complained the pilot.

"Captain, the vessels are within range," said Pressley, consulting a screen over the shoulder of a science officer.

"Get me Alliance Command," Anderson replied.

*** [ ME / KP ]

The Alliance Command Bunker was buried deep within NORAD at Silver Springs, Colorado, and was filled with the top brass of the Alliance as well as members of the US and Canadian governments. Fleet Admiral Hackett sat at the center of the circular table and looked at the screen in front of him showing Captain Anderson aboard the Normandy. Around the room many monitors had been set up to display the current fleet and ground troop positions and a centrally located projected screen showed the three enemy ships rapidly approaching Earth.

"Captain, are you ready?" asked Hackett to the screen.

"As ready as we'll ever be," said Anderson.

Hackett nodded and looked across the table. "Commander, are you sure the intel you got from our prisoners is reliable?"

Dr. Director nodded. "Yes, sir. They're stubborn but nothing about their behavior implies what happened was an act. I think it's the truth. These ships are on a crusade."

Hackett nodded. He pressed a button next to the screen in front of him which sent his voice out to everyone who could hear. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I wish we could have united under better circumstances, but it will be our greatest shame if we allow our culture to be extinguished on the cusp of turning it into something better. I know that we have a lot of unknowns on our hands, and you aren't eager to be involved in yet another dire conflict, but the situation is out of our control. We face an enemy that thinks we are a threat to their faith, and we know that the drive to protect your beliefs is one that commands unparalleled power.

"But we also have a faith, one that says we deserve a greater fate than this. And if we are to succeed, we will have to wield that confidence like a blade and use it to protect ourselves and this planet in the face of terrible odds."

Hackett looked up at the screen showing the fleet in orbit of Earth. "I have faith that we can do this. I only ask that you believe in me long enough that I can show you how." He looked down at the screen showing Captain Anderson. "Open communications with the enemy ships."

"Aye, sir," said Anderson. There was a pause, then he nodded.

"Approaching ships," Hackett said loudly. "This is Admiral Hackett of Alliance Command. Cease your approach to our planet at once or we will be forced to fire upon you. If you wish to send an emissary to establish diplomatic communication, we will transmit coordinates of a neutral location on the fourth planet of this system."

Hackett folded his hands and waited. The rest of the room kept their eyes on the screen showing Captain Anderson as he also waited.

It seemed like hours passed in the three minutes of silence.

"Incoming transmission," said Anderson.

There was a low humming noise and then a woman's voice crackled through the speakers repeating the Normandy's signal.

"Admiral Hackett," said the voice. "This is Ironlord, Vanguard of the Gairm Choir, Signatory of the First Sword."

Then there was a pause.

"I will be sure to look for your body in the wreckage to take a trophy."

Then the communication ended.

*** [ KP / ME ]

A/N: And here's more or less where we're starting to intersect with the larger Mass Effect mythos. Obviously the Lorwardians depicted in Kim Possible were fairly one-dimensional and entirely undefined. So I gave them some culture, and placed them within the context of the Council races. And gave Warmonga a brain. Sorry. I know I'm not consistent with Warmonga's characterization from the series, but... uh, I guess I just have an issue writing such simple-minded people. I also wanted to have a sympathetic Lorwardian character since Ironlord is going to be our principal villain for the First Contact War.

Anyway, more to come.