Dear Reader:

Before reading this little tale, please note that I do not own any of the characters appearing in the following pages. This story is not written for profit, merely for the enjoyment of writing and hopefully, your enjoyment in reading. This is an alternate universe tale, taking place shortly after "So the Drama". That said, lets join the familiar characters, a few weeks after the events shown in the STD movie...

The wall was blank and unadorned, but at least it was very gray. Shego snorted at her own attempts at humor, it was all she had to try to fight off the boredom. Okay, she had a couple of books from the prison library but she just wasn't that much into formalized literature. She preferred magazines but the prison didn't stock the ones she liked. Sighing once again, she tried to force her attention back to the personnel management book in front of her, hoping to be more prepared to handle the henchmen when she and Dr. D finally got out of this joint and back into the swing of things.

Giving up for the moment, she dropped to the floor and pumped out fifty push-ups before rolling over and performing fifty sit-ups. The green-hued woman repeated this twice, burning off excess energy in an effort to make the book a little more engaging. She had just returned to her chair and resumed reading before she heard footsteps in the hall outside her cell.

This was something unusual. In her fairly extensive experience at the business end of incarceration, the guards usually wore hard-soled shoes while the inmates wore either slippers or socks. Global Justice was different; the guards wore soft-soled shoes while the inmates wore hard-soled shoes. The result was quiet guards, who could suddenly appear outside your cell and relatively noisy inmates, who the guards could track by sound. Not that she had much experience with her fellow inmates; she had only seen three people not wearing Global Justice blue in the weeks since she had been in this prison. Intrigued by the idea of seeing another prisoner, she was disappointed to see another guard appear at her cell door.

"Prisoner, turn around, back to the door and present your wrists," the guard commanded.

This was another thing about the Global Justice prison, the inmates weren't allowed to develop a set routine. While the lights went out at 10:00 PM and went back on at 6:00 AM, while meal times were at the same time every day, you never knew when shower time, library time, work time or exercise time would come. Shego shrugged her shoulders and complied, wondering if she was about to be put to work or allowed to exercise. She decided to show just a little attitude, to make sure everyone knew she wasn't intimidated.

"So, am I finally going to get some outside rec time?" She demanded, crossing her wrists behind her and backing towards the door. "I still haven't seen my lawyer, and what about the other inmates? You guys haven't told me why I'm in solitary." She found the door hatch by touch and pushed her hands through, waiting for the guard to shackle her wrists.

"Prisoner, step back from the door," the guard commanded.

"What do you mean?" She demanded. "You never put the manacles on my..."

"Shego!" A familiar voice hissed. "Just follow the commands and I'll get us out of here!"

"Dr. D?" She gasped. "What's going on..."

"Quiet!" The voiced demanded, in a quiet yet harsh whisper. "There will be time for questions later."

Deciding that her boss must have a plan, Shego kept her hands behind her, as if they were shackled, and stepped forward, away from the door. Moments later, she heard the door open.

"Prisoner, step into the hall."

Shego turned around and trudged through her door to stand next to Drakken, who was standing with his hands shackled behind his back and two more guards behind him.

"Prisoners, follow me." The lead guard commanded, then stalked off down the hall. Shego and Drakken followed and even though Shego couldn't hear them, she was sure the other two guards were following.

"Stay right on my right shoulder," Drakken instructed her, in a low whisper. "The guards and our manacles are all holograms, transmitted by generators in my clothing. If you move from my right shoulder, you'll disrupt the image and we'll be in trouble."

"How did you.."

"Keep quiet!" He hissed. "Play along for a few more minutes and I'll explain everything! If we don't get out, I'm dead and you're looking at something almost as bad!"

Shego choked back the questions THIS statement prompted and concentrated on keeping on Drakken's shoulder. She also tried to memorize as much of the unfamiliar route as she possibly could, in case she came this way again. After several minutes of walking through plain hallways, they came to a steel door.

"Prisoner transfer," Shego had to admit that Drakken had skills when he chose to apply them, she swore the voice was coming from the fake guard in front of her.

"My records don't show...wait a minute! I do have orders to pass prisoners! They weren't here when I came on duty!" A shocked voice, from a speaker next to the door announced.

"Not surprising," one of the false guards commiserated. "Not only were other holding facilities damaged, the repair crews have been overworked and there are a lot of damaged roads to try to run equipment over, even when you can get around to repairing places. Facility XB7 probably wasn't scheduled to be back on line before this morning."

"...and orders say that's where you're going, all right," the unseen guard replied, as the steel door slid to one side. "Straight down corridor Delta and to the hangar. Three hover jets are warming up."

"Thanks," the projection replied, before leading the small group down what Shego assumed was the indicated corridor.

The corridor led to another security door. Beyond that, the group found itself in a circular room. Once the door they had just passed through closed another, one of four additional portals, opened. Once in this hallway, Shego could hear the sound of hover jet engines ahead of her and feel the rumble through the floor. Moments later, the two villains and their fake guards passed through yet another door and into a small hangar; just large enough to hold three Global Justice hover jets. Two mechanics and two additional guards approached the new arrivals.

"Stay close," Drakken hissed to his companion. "This is where things get tricky."

"Okay Drakken," one of the fake guards snarled at the captives. "You're in the lead vehicle. Shego goes in the second and two guards are in the trail vehicle. Before the two of you get any wild ideas, the two lead vehicles are locked on autopilot, even if you break free there's no way you can..."

A muted blast, followed by a shower of sparks from the trail vehicle's engine housing, interrupted the simulated lecture. The two mechanics rushed to the malfunctioning vehicle and cut the power.

"Fuel injector's busted," one of them reported, after examining a diagnostic screen. "It'll be two hours to disassemble the engine and replace it."

"No thanks," one of the holographic guards countered. "We have a schedule to keep."

"Not without violating standing orders," one of the real guards countered. "Standard policy for enhanced villains is one per vehicle, with a chase vehicle following the convoy."

"And secure communications are still screwed up," the false guard replied. "The central control point didn't get the word we were moving these two until we were on our way here. Facility XB7 is expecting these two to arrive in ninety four minutes, with a variance of only nine minutes. If they don't arrive on schedule, the alerts are going to go out. Do you want to explain to Dr. Director why the whole organization went on full alert, why all investigations were suspended, because of a leaky fuel injector?"

The real guard looked suddenly unsure of himself.

"We can put both prisoners in the lead vehicle," the fake guard continued. "We'll lock it in autopilot, so they have no potential hostages. We'll monitor them from the second vehicle."

"Okay, but this is on your authority," the real guard conceded.

"Of course," the hologram nodded. "Let's get moving. Prisoners, into the lead vehicle."

Shego stayed next to her employer as the hologram guards herded them into the idling aircraft. The holograms actually went through the motions of connecting the illusionary manacles to hard points in the passenger compartment.

"Don't power up," Drakken hissed at his companion. "No matter what I shout."

Before Shego could question this statement, shouts sounded from outside the vehicle.

"Fry the controls!" Drakken roared, while jumping through a hatch and into the cockpit. Shego was right on his heels, shocked that he took the pilots seat.

"This isn't the time to play around," she snarled at him.

"So sit down and shut up!" He growled back.

Shocked by his unusual decisiveness, Shego took the copilot's seat; at least until she figured out his plan. "You better have a damned good reason for bossing me around like that," she told him.

"You can judge for yourself, in a few minutes," he murmured, manipulating the controls. The aircraft leapt from the floor and barreled through the hangar's doors.

Rather than climbing to a safe altitude, the vehicle stayed low over a forest.

"Middleton up ahead," Drakken told her. "I have a bolt hole prepared. Don't flare your plasma, I suspect Global Justice can track it like a radio transmission. Hold on!"

The blue scientist's command proved timely. Shego gasped as her boss, who she hadn't suspected could fly an aircraft with any skill, guided the craft along the city's streets at high speed and barely above the pavement.

"Get ready to jump out," he commanded.

Moments later, the hover jet decelerated abruptly. Drakken smashed his fist on one last control before leaping out of his chair and back into the passenger compartment. Shego followed him through the compartment and out of the hatch. She only had moments to notice another hover jet swooping up next to them before their aircraft started to spew thick, blinding smoke.

"The other craft is on autopilot," Drakken told her, noticing that she had dropped into a martial arts stance. "Stay powered down, but lift that drain grate."

As soon as Shego lifted the grate her companion had indicated, Drakken jumped in the storm sewer underneath. Shego followed him and lowered the grate back into place as the two hover jets rose back into the sky.

"They're heading to different, abandoned lairs," Drakken informed her, leading her down the cramped, concrete passage. "I rigged one of them to mimic your plasma transmissions. With any luck, Global Justice will run that one down, find it empty, then waste more time tracking the other craft. In the meantime, we have work to do."

"Maybe," Shego drawled back. "But you better start explaining in the next couple of minutes."

"That I will," he countered, showing no hint that he was intimidated. He patted a section of the tunnel wall. "First, push here, hard."

Shego did as instructed and the concrete hinged downward, forming a short ramp to another tunnel.

"Close it behind us," Drakken told her, clambering down the ramp and feeling along the other tunnel's wall. Once Shego got the hidden door closed, lights came on in the new passage.

Drakken simply led her down this new passage which, after a hundred feet or so, ended at a plain door. This door opened into what appeared to be a comfortable, if sparse, set of rooms. Shego took a quick look around. The main room looked like a control room, with computer consoles and monitors on two walls. Further into the complex were a couple of spartan bedrooms, a bathroom and a storeroom. Shego didn't bother examining the storage area's contents but noted that the room had a very large, locked door. Satisfied that they weren't about to be ambushed, she stalked back to the main room.

"Okay, now's the time for explanations," the mastermind told her, looking up from a workstation. "I have work to do, but I'll start a video that you might find interesting."

"Not so fast!" Shego snarled. "Before you do anything else, you're gonna tell me how you got us out of that joint!"

"What?" He demanded in return. "Shego, do you doubt my genius?"

"Damned right! We were only in that place for a couple of weeks! How did you manage to build hologram projectors and hack into the hover jet controls? How do I know that this isn't another setup? How do I know you're really Drakken?"

"Valid questions," Drakken nodded. "For your first battery of questions, why, I've been a freelance operative for Global Justice for the past three years. During that time, I planted equipment and made plans in case I was ever on the business end of their version of justice. For the how do you know it's really me, you don't. You're going to have to decide if you're going to trust me or not."

"A...freelancer? You've been working for them?"

"If you think a little more deeply, you'll see that it actually makes sense," Drakken offered a small smile. "However, you'll now be asking an even more urgent question; why did I just escape? The answer is simple, I was in danger of outliving my usefulness and their plans for you had taken a decidedly dark turn. As much as it pains me to admit it, Shego, I've grown fond of you and I don't want to see you manipulated the way they intended to."

"Dark plans, too dark for you?"

"That organization is willing to go to lengths that make me flinch," he shrugged. "Of course, I'm only flinching because it was about to go to those lengths upon me, rather than for me. I can handle ruthlessness against strangers but not upon myself or those I care about."

"Okay, I'm willing to believe you're the real Drakken after that last statement," Shego drawled, relaxing slightly. "So I've been living a lie for the last three years? You haven't been trying to take over the world?"

"It's more a simulation than a lie," Drakken countered. "My mission was to develop technologies that could..."

A quiet chime sounded from his workstation, interrupting his explanation.

"Global Justice has just disabled the aircraft I had programmed to simulate your plasma emissions," he announced. "I must now program the other aircraft to execute some deceptive maneuvers, while routing my transmissions via commercial transmitters, of course."

"What?"

"I'm trying to get a better grip on their ability to track these aircraft," he explained, while concentrating on the monitors and controls in front of him. "They didn't fully trust me; probably a wise precaution, so I don't know their exact capabilities. I need to determine those capabilities if I'm to evade them. As such, I'm trying to observe them on the hunt without giving away our location. Now, why don't you let me start an instructional video at that other workstation?" The man gestured toward the mentioned station with his chin, not wanting to take his hands off of the controls. "You'll get your answers and I'll make my observations."

"Okay, I'm playing along for the moment," Shego conceded. "But if this is more manipulation..."

She let the threat hang.

"I'm perfectly aware that you're capable of dismembering me," he replied, in a distracted tone. He was already engrossed in his work. "However, I'd suggest you don't; you don't know the full situation at this time and you're going to need me. On the other hand, should you decide to do so, don't use your plasma, this chamber isn't sufficiently shielded to conceal those electromagnetic signatures when you go active, so to speak."

"Okay, I'm intrigued," she admitted. "Start your after-school video."

"Very well," he displayed a small, distracted grin while activating another control. "There will be a quiz later. Extra credit if we actually escape."

Shego actually chuckled just a little at his attempted humor.

The screen in front of her flared to life, displaying a menu with several videos waiting to be viewed. "Might as well start at the beginning," she muttered, clicking on the oldest icon.

Shego was surprised to see the INTERPOL logo appear on her screen while a narrator provided the time and date of an interview. While she didn't know much about the operations of many international agencies, she was very familiar with INTERPOL. After a few seconds, the logo faded to show a distinguished, elderly gentleman.

"Greetings," the man said. "The following is a recorded interview, conducted by INTERPOL. I am Secretary General..."

Shego noted that the almost classic Godzilla-movie-esk manner in which his lip movements didn't match the sound meant that the recording was being overdubbed. She didn't even hazard a guess as to which language the man was speaking, but noticed that the date he gave for the interview was when she was thirteen.

"Right before we formed Team Go," she mused.

"The purpose of this interview is to discuss a new challenge to international law enforcement," the Secretary General stated. "A small, but growing number of criminals have begun to utilize physical enhancement and non-firearm weaponry during their illegal activities. This has presented law enforcement with a unique problem. Currently, the United States has experienced the greatest number of these malefactors, and has experienced the most success in combating them. In answer to my request, the United States' Federal Bureau of Investigation has sent its foremost expert in this field to our office. Agent Betty Director will inform us of the unique problems these criminals present, the methods the FBI has used to combat them, as well as the successes and failures they have experienced. That said, I turn the podium over to Agent Director."

"Betts used to be in the FBI?" Shego asked herself, while the view zoomed out. The view's widening angle revealed that the Secretary General had been standing behind a podium at the front of a lecture hall. In the audience, dozens of diplomats sat behind desks, each bearing a different national flag. Shego realized just how seriously INTERPOL took the threat...at least back then.

"She looks different with two eyes and without a Global Justice jumpsuit," Shego thought to herself, as the trim woman strode to the podium.

"Thank you, Mister Secretary," the agent nodded to the older man, who took a seat off to the side of the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen of the General Assembly, on behalf of the United States in general, and the Federal Bureau of Investigation in particular, I thank you for the opportunity to describe our failures and successes in combating this new challenge, and to request mutual cooperation. While several nations have suffered the activities of these new villains, which we have named techno-villains, my nation seems to have experienced the greatest activity. Before describing our theories and methods, it is best that I first describe just what we are facing."

"The techno-villain has learned to manipulate public opinion," the young agent began. "He does this in three ways. First, he does not target the general public. The intelligent techno-villain doesn't seize the so-called "every-man" and hold him for ransom; he won't rob a typical citizen nor an institution with which the typical citizen regularly interacts, such as a bank or mercantile facility. By avoiding harming the typical citizen, at least directly, the techno-villain makes the link between the crime and the citizen tenuous, at least in the typical citizen's mind."

"Secondly, the techno-villain refrains from using recognizable, deadly force when he commits his crimes. He doesn't stoop to the use of guns or high-explosive bombs. Rather, he makes use of bizarre shock-rays, martial arts, fighting robots, or other non-standard means when confronting either a victim or a law-enforcement agent. Because the public doesn't see immediate, deadly consequences of his actions, the public's sense of outrage is significantly muted."

"Finally, the techno-villain is deliberately flamboyant," Agent Director continued. "He sacrifices some efficiency to be entertaining. Some adapt a theme; such as a color, music, or other seemingly innocent trait. Others simply make their scheme's overly complicated, almost in a Rube Goldberg manner. Quite often, the public will be so fixated on what form of scheme this criminal will attempt that the public is no longer concerned that he is attempting to execute another scheme."

"As a result, the techno-villain can generate a sense of tolerance, even affection, from the general public," the agent concluded. "While nobody wants this criminal to succeed, very few feel threatened enough to condone deadly force against him...until it's too late. I'd now like to call your attention to two examples; one of a success and one of a failure, that we at the FBI have experienced."

"Each of you should have already received these files last week," Betty said, stepping away from the podium and walking to the front of the stage. Shego could hear the sounds of the audience shuffling papers, confirming that the audience was reviewing information.

"In both cases, the techno-villain in question was Drew Lipsky, a brilliant but erratic failed scientist." Agent Director informed her audience. "Mr. Lipsky was a socially isolated engineering student before turning to a life of petty crime. His initial forays into criminal action were mainly subsistence actions; he stole for money and basic survival resources. Being a very intelligent individual, he was highly successful in these efforts."

Shego hit the pause button to spare a glance at her employer.

Successful?

She couldn't believe it! Almost all of his schemes were failures but still, where did he get the money to keep trying? Deciding there might be something to learn about Drakken, as well as this current situation, she hit the play button again.

"His success brought federal investigation," the agent informed her audience, once the file started to play again. "And Mr. Lipsky had several, close escapes. It was at this time, either through a conscious thought process or pure luck, he established the techno-villain method of operation. He established the identity of Doctor Drakken and undertook an elaborate plot to affect the world's coffee production."

"Yes, I know it sounds absurd," Agent Director spoke up slightly, overriding the muted round of chuckles that sounded from her audience. "However, consider this; if his scheme had succeeded, he would have extorted one US penny for every two cups of coffee consumed."

The chuckles abruptly stopped.

"It's good to know that you understand the implications," the young agent favored the unseen audience with a tight smile. "Not only did Dr. Drakken's scheme have the potential of reaping a massive, financial return but by spreading the cost among billions of potential victims, no one victim would have been severely inconvenienced. It was at this time that the FBI experienced a serious failure."

"Mr. Lipsky needed raw chemicals in order to produce some exotic herbicides," Betty Director explained. "We had identified several chemical warehouses that he would be likely to target and had assets in place when he made his move. Unfortunately, Mr. Lipsky's method of operation and timing were excellent. First, he chose to act during a holiday night, when the warehouse and the surrounding area were deserted. Finally, he had previously constructed some...vaguely... female robots, which he sent to acquire the chemicals. The FBI sent in an elite, heavily armed team to halt the criminal activity..and disaster followed."

"The robots...which he called Bebes, were sufficiently armored to withstand typical handgun projectiles. Also, they were not armed with dedicated weaponry, although their strength and speed made them formidable opponents. During the confrontation, the warehouse sustained serious collateral damage and the containers holding several dangerous chemicals were shattered, requiring us to evacuate all points within two kilometers of the warehouse. Several news crews, attracted by the sounds of gunfire and explosions, managed to record portions of the confrontation. Finally, the warehouse's security cameras recorded much of the altercation. The result was a public relations disaster."

"The facility owner, his insurance underwriter, and the general public did not see a dedicated law enforcement team confronting a dangerous foe. Rather, the public saw a group of almost laughable robots stealing strange chemicals from an odd warehouse. They saw government agents unleashing heavy weaponry against mechanical devices that didn't shoot back. They saw that the damage done to the warehouse, the releasing of the chemicals and the need to evacuate homes and businesses were caused by the agent's weaponry."

The agent paused for dramatic effect, "the public didn't ask why these robots were stealing someone's property...They didn't ask what these chemicals were going to be used for...They asked why a federal agency needed so much firepower and was so zealous to apply it."

"It was a black eye for the FBI," she continued. "As all of you know, law enforcement can only be effective with public trust and cooperation. This is the techno-villain's greatest asset; his ability to threaten that mutually beneficial relationship. In this case, we learned our lesson. Again, you should have all received documentation explaining the steps we took to face this new type of criminal."

Shego again heard the unseen audience shuffling papers.

"To summarize our actions, we prepared ourselves to face Mr. Lipsky's next attack. To do so, we developed non-lethal weaponry...really nothing more than beefed-up cattle prods, to disable the Bebes. We developed our agents, and recruited additional ones from our nation's martial arts experts and military special forces. Finally, we placed several of these special teams at centralized locations, provided them with rapid transport, and honed communication and cooperation between our federal agency and state and local agencies. When Drakken struck again, we were ready."

"I won't waste everyone's time bragging about our success," the agent's humility actually made Shego feel slightly nauseous. "Needless to say, we were able to disrupt Drakken's efforts, protect the public and did so without collateral damage. However, more challenges have started to emerge."

"Just as military forces must try to foresee future developments; rather than preparing to re-fight the last war, we in law-enforcement must predict the criminal's next move, rather than simply countering his last action. Furthermore we must cooperate to do so. While you have all received my agency's request, in writing, I stand before you today in order to directly offer our assistance, while pleading for yours."

"We have all received your request to share information," the Secretary General interrupted the guest speaker. "And we have all agreed to do so; our respective nations are assembling the proper infrastructure as we speak. However, I am interested in the controversial requests you hinted at in our earlier conversation."

"Very well," Betty nodded. "Ladies and gentlemen, I propose to form centralized teams, dedicated to counter the techno-villain threat. These teams will not enforce laws; they will mobilize to neutralize the techno-villains, wherever they may appear. We must provide these teams with the best equipment and training available; but we must go beyond this when we recruit these agents. This is the controversial request that the Secretary General just mentioned."

As the agent produced a remote control, a projection screen lowered behind her. With a click of the control, the screen displayed a picture of Shego's older brothers.

"Could we have all been so young?" Shego asked herself.

"I present you with Herman and Melvin Go," Agent Director told her audience. "Two super-humans."

"This is not a hoax," the agent insisted, raising her voice to be heard over the swelling sounds of disbelief. I have personally observed their extra-human capabilities and will show them to you at this time."

A couple more clicks of the control and the screen showed Hego easily lifting a series of automobiles, followed by Mego displaying his shrinking capability.

"The oldest boy clearly has superhuman strength," Agent director informed her audience. "While the younger is clearly capable of altering his physical size. When these two young men were boys, they and three more siblings were playing in a tree house when it was struck by a rogue comet. Shortly after these two experienced puberty, their powers started to manifest. My agency has asked the siblings to form a team of super-heroes, offering to train them. Needless to say, we are keeping a close eye on the younger three, in order to see if they develop super-powers, as well."

"This is my agency's request to all of you," the agent concluded her speech. "Or, should I say, my agency's requests. First, we ask that you monitor your own populations for such super-humans; should you find any, share such information. Secondly, we seek to give our teams free reign across international borders. My government will shortly deliver formal requests to your national governments. The gist of these proposals will be to allow these super teams to pursue techno-villains wherever they can be found...so long as the super teams do not interfere in local crime and politics. Our intent is not to force our own views and standards onto anyone else; it is to give the techno-villain no place of refuge. I hope that we can agree on a certain community of interest in this regard, and convey such a need for cooperation to our national governments."

"Does anyone have questions for the agent?" The Secretary General asked the assembly. Apparently, one of the delegates indicated that he did. "The chair recognizes the Denmark Representative."

"I am interested in how these young people acquired their super powers," the unseen delegate stated. "Did this comet emit some form of radiation, produce a vapor the children inhaled, or was it some other physical affect that gave them these enhancements?"

"We cannot be completely sure," the FBI agent admitted. "But we believe it was radiation."

"Is there any way of using the remains of this comet to enhance additional volunteers?" The same, unseen voice asked. "While your agency's actions seem logical, wouldn't it be more efficient to enhance trained law-enforcement or military personnel?"

"I agree it would be much more efficient," Betty nodded towards her questioner. "However, this radiation does not seem to have any effect on adult humans. Furthermore, we are unable to locate any remnants from the comet. It appears that the comet's material was an element we have never encountered before, which decomposes to energy upon contact with Earth's atmosphere."

"The chair recognizes the Cuban Representative," the Secretary General declared, after a few moments of silence.

"Your last two comments contradict each other," the new, unseen diplomat declared. "The only way you could determine the comet's lack of effect on an adult would be to expose an adult to the comet, yet you claim you cannot find any remains. Are you covering up some sort of super-soldier program?"

"It was an independent investigator who determined both the comet's volatility and the lack of effect on adults," Betty countered. "My government, particularly NASA, is embarrassed to admit that an astrophysicist graduate student, with no government funding, mathematically determined where any comet fragments would have to be located, in orbit. He then got his hands on a disarmed, Minuteman Missile and worked with his brother to fabricate and install a robotic, sweeper apparatus. A year after the initial comet incident, before the Go Children exhibited their enhancements, he launched his homemade recovery vehicle and actually recovered comet fragments. When he opened the cargo bay, these fragments dematerialized, exposing him to the same energy that enhanced the Go Siblings. While we continue to observe him, he has shown no enhancements, himself."

"And what is this young man's name?" The delegate asked.

"Mr. James Possible."

Authors note: Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta assistance.