Space Jam

By The Steel Angel

Authors Notes – I began this fic back in 2005, but lost interest in completing it about half-way through. With my recent elimination in Author Idol at TGN, something clicked in my brain to try and re-manufacture this fic. Hopefully I'll finish it this time, and hopefully it will be written much better than the original version was. This is a triple crossover epic fic, meaning it's going to be a multi-chaptered monster, and is going to cross over three separate fandoms. The fandoms in question are Kim Possible, Totally Spies, and my alma mater, Animorphs. For practicality, ages of the characters is a bit skewed. At present day in the fic, 2009, the Animorphs are 18, Kim Possible is 18, and the girls from Totally Spies are 16. It's a very time-oriented fic, so each section will be labeled with a timestamp. You'd do well to pay close attention to the timestamps as they appear. So, without further adieu…. I present, "Space Jam".

Chapter One

Lost Souls

July 1st, 2018

It was cold outside today.

Not really a stretch of the imagination, though I'd rather have it be hot. I grew up in Southern California, so I was more used to heat. Not that it mattered much anymore. The weather fluctuated so wildly between cold and heat that keeping track of the seasons was pointless, unless you were stubborn enough to want to hang on to the old way of life.

What day was it? Month? Year? Someone had to know. Someone had to be keeping track of the days passing, the hours ticking. It was hard for us to know anything these days. Especially here, in my little camp, where all people cared about was living to see the next day.

As far as I could tell, we were somewhere along the California-Nevada border. The only way I knew that was that I could still see the mountains in the distance. We couldn't have moved too far east, or those mountains wouldn't be visible. As for the date, who really knew? We hadn't had electricity or running clocks for years. Our solar powered clocks were rendered useless when the Yeerks launched their all-out attack on us. A combination of Yeerk dracon beams and human nuclear weapons left the skies of earth torn and shredded. No atmosphere except for the thin cloud of dust that hung overhead, blotting out the sun.

It was also the reason why the weather fluctuated so wildly. The lack of an ozone layer prevented any kind of normal weather. Some days it was blistering hot, others it was bone-chilling cold.

The kids were crying again. I could hear them from inside the caves. My group wasn't spectacular, but they were family. Twenty women, including myself, along with eleven men, and fourteen children. We cared for each other. Looked out for each other. Even though most of us knew the situation was hopeless. The Yeerks had found our location. Every day, more of our men would be taken by their scouting parties. Pretty soon, they'd stop playing around and take the rest of us too. We either had to move, or risk capture.

Normal, every day life for a woman in one of the last human resistance parties on Earth. You just tried to live one day at a time, and in my case, forget the past. Forget what happened all those years ago, back when humanity was still free. Forget the blood and carnage of that battle on the Yeerk Pool ship. Forget the fact that your two best friends were gone forever. Forget the fact that the one boy you admired so much, was probably dead by now. Just like any real resistance to the Yeerk threat.

All we tried to do these days was stay alive. Really, that's all anyone can do.

-Clover Ewing

Days passed like minutes now. Every time I looked up at the clock, I could almost see it running in hyper-speed. Taunting me, ridiculing me, teasing me with the knowledge that I was going to die here in this goddamn utopia.

I was stuck down here in this underground complex. Stuck with no way out, suffering the worst fate imaginable. I was in the WOOHP catacombs, with every available exist electronically sealed off, and the computer systems down. I had no way to unlock the airtight seals around the exits.

The life support systems were fully functioning. The observation computers were fully functioning. GLADIS was fully functioning. I had food, water, hygienic products. I had everything I'd ever need to survive another thirty or forty years down here. I was condemned to a life of paradise, and to watch the Earth, my planet, slowly die under the crushing force of Yeerk occupation.

The thought that I was going crazy had crossed my mind a few times. You always hear people talking about how well they could handle solitude. How they didn't need anyone else. That they'd be fine on their own, trapped alone for an extended period of time. Believe me, I knew the lines. I'd used them on myself for the first year down here. Then I realized that no matter how strong your mind is, all it takes is time for you to crack and break down.

It's been nine years, three months, and six days since I became trapped down here. Trapped with no one to talk to besides GLADIS. I suppose that was better than no one. She and I have had long, long discussions about the meaning of life, the Yeerk threat, almost anything you can think of. Every moment she and I talked was a moment that I treasured.

I still held out hope, though. Hope that somehow, I'd be rescued from this prison of paradise. That somehow, I'd be freed from this utopia and be able to climb back to the surface, lead what free humans remained in a mass rebellion against the Yeerks. It was pointless, futile, and would accomplish nothing but sending us all to our deaths. But at least we'd get to die on our own terms, rather than being hunted down like rats.

My only hopes these days come from sending out these distress calls, posting them to every web address still in operation. Maybe some rogue government still in operation would receive them and find me. Better yet, perhaps they'd be stumbled across by Andalite scientists, which would hopefully lead them straight to me.

I'm not giving up hope. But it's fading fast.

-Samantha Simpson

Independence Day.

It was almost the fourth of July. Independence day. A day that had taken on new meaning in the last several years. Usually there was some staged coup every July fourth, most of the time on one of the Yeerk strongholds in capital cities all across the world. Not this year. This year, we had something new planned.

As commander of all that remained of America's resistance forces against the Yeerk empire, I'd been consolidating my forces for the last few years, setting up one final strike. It was the last blow we could deliver before the Yeerks took this planet completely. Either everything would go to plan and we'd pull the trigger on the greatest coup in galactic history, or, much more likely, we'd fail. Just like always.

We were stationed in the hollowed out shell of Mount San Jacinto in southern California. It used to be a military base, back before the war started. Over the last four years, we'd been systematically bringing in every nuclear warhead we could scrounge up. We had over two thousand nuclear warheads. Not a lot, compared to the number the American Armory possessed shortly after the Iraq war, but it was enough.

Our plan was simple. We were going to launch every nuclear weapon we had at one time, at one of the ground based anti-Andalite facilities. They were giant dracon canon placed atop high fortresses, which possessed enough firepower to shot a beam right through the stratosphere and knock out any ship approaching the surface. This was the reason the Andalites couldn't land. They were blown out of the sky before they had a chance to blink.

But, if we could take out the facility, there'd be a window. A window of opportunity for the Andalites to fly down and land on the surface uninhibited. We could finally make this an actual war, rather than a slaughter. Everything had to go perfectly. The day was approaching. We'd leave tomorrow, strike on July Fourth. Either we'd go down in history as saviors… or we wouldn't have a history past the day after tomorrow.

Sometimes I wondered if the others were still out there somewhere, leading their own resistance's. I never did find out what happened to Jake, Clover, Rachel, or Samantha. But that was ancient history. All that mattered was this mission. I'd think about good times after this was over.

-Commander Kimberly Possible

The oceans used to be blue.

I thought about that every now and then, as I looked down out of the window of my starship. I remembered how the Earth looked the first time I saw it from space. Bright blue oceans, green and brown landmasses, white fluffy clouds. It looked natural, pristine, and beautiful.

Now was different. Now the oceans were dull, gray, and almost lifeless. The land was brown still, but a different kind of brown. A brown that you knew was devoid of the rich life that Earth had once possessed. The clouds were a dull shade of yellow, nuclear radiation hanging in them from the massive attacks the Yeerks had launched nine years earlier.

I hadn't been back to the surface of my home for nine long years. I was the only human up here with the Andalite fleet. How I'd managed to get on a first name basis with Andalite star captains was still a mystery to me.

My name is Jake. The last surviving member of a group of kids called the Animorphs. Animorphs… I hadn't thought about that word in a long time. It was Marco's word for us. Animal morphers, it meant. For a long time, we were the only resistance to the Yeerk invasion of Earth. Until they decided that they'd had enough of the passive secretive invasion. Once they launched an all out war…. We were decimated within a week.

I survived. I survived and made it out here with the Andalites, who've taken me as one of their own. I've been made captain of my own fighter ship. I have a crew. I've been involved in several space battles. Come back alive when I probably shouldn't have. But hey, I've been doing that for years.

I didn't belong up here. I belonged down on the surface, fighting with my own people. Fighting with my friends, if any of them were left alive. We were accomplishing nothing by just sitting up here in space, but as long as the anti-space craft dracon canon were on place on the surface, we couldn't land. It was a war of attrition that no one was winning.

Maybe things would change one day. As for now, all we could do was wait.

-Captain Jake Berenson

To Be Continued…