Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. Supergirl and all related characters and indicia are owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.

"Who's Darkseid?" Kim asked as she wiped orange juice off her face. Kim hadn't heard the name before, that she could recall anyway. Ron gave her a blank look and shrugged. Kara paused only long enough to clean up the mess she had made (which disappeared between blinks) before she explained.

"Darkseid is the absolute ruler of a planet called Apokolips. He's as evil as he is ugly, and he's really ugly."

"Just what we need," Ron muttered, "Some freak from another planet making trouble for us."

"Hey!" Kara exclaimed, "I'm from another planet!" Her tone and expression were mischievous rather than angry, and Ron grinned at her.

"Yes, but you're as nice as you are beautiful, and you're really beautiful," he declared, giving her an over-the-top, goo-goo eyed expression. Kara laughed. Kim rolled her eyes, but she smiled too. Ron was all ready shaking off the funk he'd been in last night, and that was good.

"Flatterer," Kara scolded him.

"Getting back to Darkseid," Kim said, "Why would the ruler of another planet help a small town engineer, or even a wacko like Monkey Fist?"

"I don't know," Kara admitted. "Of course, Darkseid himself probably isn't involved. In fact, he may not even know about what's going on."

"So we're dealing with...?" Kim probed, one finger tracing a circle in the air.

"One of his underlings; maybe one of his lieutenants, but probably not. Darkseid keeps them on a pretty short leash these days."

"And why would a lackey do something like this when, as you seem to be suggesting, this Darkseid wouldn't approve?" Kim asked.

Kara made a face. "You have to understand how things work in that rat hole of his. Darkseid seems to fancy himself as some sort of god, a harsh, cruel god who wants to rule every aspect of his peoples' lives. He decides, for example, who gets to eat, and how much and how well. Just surviving, not to mention getting ahead in life, depends on pleasing him, so these underlings of his are always trying to curry favor for themselves, and make their rivals look bad. That leads to some pretty convoluted plots, and makes guessing the motive behind any particular move difficult at best."

"Even when the move involves doing something he disapproves of?"

"Believe me, Kim, Darkseid will only disapprove if the scheme fails."

"Why does this Darkseid guys even care about Earth anyway?" Ron wondered. "What could we possibly have that he would want?"

Kara grinned humorlessly. "First, we have freedom, which Crag Face would take away in an instant for the sheer delight of enslaving us; and second, because he's been told to keep his paws off the Earth, and there isn't much that makes him madder than being told what he can and can't do."

"Sounds like your average bully," Kim growled.

"Pretty much," Kara agreed, "but he's a bully with enormous power at his disposal; both militarily and his own innate abilities."

"How powerful is he?"

"Stronger than Superman," Kara said matter-of-factly, and Kim shuddered. "It took Cl... Kal-el and I working together to beat him last time."

"Who could tell someone like that what to do?" Kim asked.

"A rival planet called New Genesis, that, thank Rao, is more powerful than Darkseid and his armies They aren't a lot stronger, mind, and they aren't warlike either, so they've limited themselves to imposing a peace, and telling Darkseid to leave Earth alone."

"So he's messing with us just because he was told he can't," Ron said. "He's not just a bully, he's a spoiled brat bully."

"I won't argue with that," Kara agreed amiably.

Kim stood up and began pacing, her brow furrowed in though. "Ok," she said. "Monkey Fist obviously wants to put a satellite in orbit and he has apparently acquired the means to do it. Whatever he's up to involves kryptonite somehow, and given his obsessions, doubtless involves monkeys as well." She stopped and straightened up, rubbing her forehead. "All of which tells us very little about what his plans are."

"Well, maybe he wants to use the satellite to expose everyone on Earth to kryptonite radiation; maybe mutate us all into monkeys?" Ron speculated. "A polar orbit would let him cover the whole planet in a few days."

"True," Kara mused, "but kryptonite isn't that dangerous to humans. Oh, sure, with prolonged exposure you'd get some health effects, mostly in the form of a higher risk for cancer, and people with a high enough proportion of metagenes might develop some kind of super power, but you're still looking at months, if not years, of exposure." Kara paused, her eyes thoughtful. "Plus, now that I think about it, the only radiation kryptonite gives off that could cause mutations are gamma rays, and they won't penetrate the ozone layer."

"Could that be his target?" Kim asked.

"Maybe, but if so, why use a satellite? No weapon a satellite could carry would be very effective. What radiation ozone blocks, it can soak up like a sponge, and what it can't block passes through it harmlessly. Chemicals would be a lot more effective, and they could be released from the ground."

Ron snapped his fingers. "What about scattering kryptonite dust everywhere? I read once that some people worried about the nuclear power packs on space probes because, if there was an accident during launch, the packs could burn up and spread plutonium over everything."

"I suppose that's a possibility," Kara allowed, "but again, to get significant results in a short time you'd need thousands of tons of kryptonite, and one little satellite isn't going to be able to carry it all."

"I think you're coming at this the wrong way," Jonathan interjected. Kim, Ron, and Kara all looked at him. "Instead of trying to figure out what Monkey Fist is going do, maybe you should concentrate on when and where he's going to do it. I don't know how big a rocket has to be to get into orbit, but I know it had to get out of Healey's lab through that second tunnel, so it can't be too big."

"Unless they took it out in pieces," Kara pointed out.

"Even then, heck, especially then," Kim broke in, "He'd need to get it ready to launch; you know, assemble it, fuel it, that sort of thing, which means a fairly specialized facility."

"Ok," Ron agreed, "but where would he build something like that without anyone noticing?"

"Uh, Ron, Healey put that tunnel in with no-one noticing."

"Yeah, but a rocket has to be above ground to launch, right?"

"Not necessarily, Ron," Jonathan said. "I think the project name Healey mentioned is a clue to where you should be looking." The three looked on expectantly as an amused, knowing grin spread across Jonathan's face. "It just so happens that this part of Kansas is dotted with abandoned missile silos. Atlas missile silos."


"According to what I've been able to find," Wade said from the Kimmunicator, "The last Atlas missiles were taken out of service in the late nineteen sixties. The silo complexes were stripped of whatever gear might still be useful, then locked shut and left to rot, basically. A lot of them were given back to the people who had originally owned the land they were built on, or sold off to private buyers."

"What in the world would anyone want with an old missile silo?" Kim demanded.

Wade shrugged. "Some people use them for storage, some as storm shelters. One guy even turned his into a house."

"It takes all kinds I guess," Kim muttered to herself. "Have any changed hands recently?"

Wade shook his head. "Not recently, at least not in your area."

"Send us a list with their locations, Wade," Kara suggested. "I can check them out in a few minutes."

"Maybe not even that long," Wade grinned. " There are only twelve of them, after all."

"Only twelve?" Kim asked. "That's not very many."

"Only seventy-two Atlas missiles were ever based in silos and only twelve of those were in Kansas. The rest were in above ground facilities."

While Wade prepared his list, Kara changed her clothes. It was a fascinating process, Kim had to admit. It turned out that Kara usually didn't wear her costume under her clothes ("Too bulky," she explained. "People might notice. Plus," she added with a wry smile, "I've yet to find a way to wear boots under shoes without it looking just ridiculous."). Instead, she carried it in her purse, or in a pocket, compressed (in the case of her boots) into a form as thin and foldable as tissue paper. Kara handed one to an astonished Kim, who was surprised that the flimsy looking thing in her hand weighed so much. Kara took it back, jiggled it somehow, and Kim watched in awe as it seemed to inflate, taking on the normal shape and texture of a red leather boot.

"Pretty neat, huh?"

"I'll say," Kim said enviously. "It would make packing so much easier."

Ron, who had left the room (somewhat reluctantly, Kim had noticed) while Kara changed, returned with a spare Kimmunicator. "Wade loaded the list into this and cross linked it with the built in GPS function. It'll take you right to each silo."

"Sweet! Ok, you two sit tight. I'll be back before you know it." Kara paused at the back door just long enough to make sure the coast was clear, then she was gone.

Ron sighed. "She is so totally hot in that outfit."

Kim pushed past him and went outside. There was a swing on the back porch, and she plopped down on it. "It's not very practical," she opined. Ron sat down next to her.

"True," he allowed, "but then, it's not like she needs to take a bunch of gadgets with her when she goes on a mission." Kim didn't say anything. Ron took one of her hands in his. Kim smiled as he interlaced his fingers with hers. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and looked up at him.

"You like her, don't you?"

"Naturally."

"Do you think it'll go anywhere?"

"What, you mean like marriage?" Ron shrugged. "Dunno. I'm not looking that far ahead."

Kim rested her head on his shoulder. "Sorry," she apologized. "Comes with being a girl. Suitability as a mate is one of the first things we look at in a guy."

Ron said nothing, just gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. After a bit he switched hands and put his arm around her. She snuggled closer. Ron breathed deeply. Kim smelled good, the way only girls could. She must, he thought, have used at least a touch of her favorite body lotion after her shower, for there was a faint aroma of strawberry about her. Not too much, and certainly not overpowering, like some girls were with their perfume. Light, subtle, just enough to make its presence known. He breathed in again, and let out a contented sigh. In the cool light of a Kansas morning, under a cloudless blue sky, with his best friend beside him, Ron felt the horrors of the previous night leave him, the images drifting apart and vanishing, like tatters of fog before a breeze.

Life was good.