Authors Note: If you haven't read book 1, Black Hole, then I strongly advise you do so. I am writing with the expectation that people reading this book have read the first one so I may gloss over details that are explained in the first book. Also, I would like it if you read my first completed story :D I'm kind of proud of it.

Prologue

POV-Gaz

The iridescent colors of slip-space had become normal to Gaz, they had been traveling for a little over two weeks now. She followed through with another routine of punches and kicks, her practicing had been one of the few things that kept her sane during the monotonous voyage, at least until Zim was finally up and about. His injuries had been compounded by several more episodes of growth. He now stood an intimidating six foot three and his already athletic physique had thickened slightly. Honestly Gaz could rarely keep from staring at his body, the scars dotting his skin told her of his will, just as the muscles conveyed his strength. They had several opportunities to test each-others endurance on more than one occasion. She smiled at the memories then reflected once more on the recent past.

She had lost it all, everything she had known, all in one blazing day. Yet she didn't feel regret, no she was happy. Happier now then she had ever remembered being, and she blamed it on Zim. She let her hands drop, relaxing her body. Sweat clung to her body, she looked at the internal clock. Two hours had passed, she sighed. Gaz "I really need to not let my mind wander, now I'm going to be twice as sore." She went over to a small crate in the corner, she was using one of the storage bays to practice in. Originally it was meant to carry about a hundred of Zims smaller drones, along with supplies and parts. But since he used all of them trying to save Earth it was empty save for the small crate Gaz had placed in there to use as a table. She grabbed a towel off the crate, wanting to dry off before putting the rest of her clothing back on.

Since it was only the two of them on the ship, Gaz had taken to training in a simple sports bra and skin tight shorts. It had taken her a few days to figure out all the systems on the ship and had been very grateful to find that Zims forge could produce mundane objects like clothing as well as advanced pieces of technology. She stopped at that thought, I wonder if he could make me a Game Slave… maybe a game or two… She decided to ask the next time she saw him, which would probably be as soon as she could find him. That wouldn't take very long, she smiled as she thought of him. Zim may be an alien, he may be strange and might have been bred to be an invader. But he was hers, and nothing was going to change that.

POV-Zim

The door hissed open and Zim quickly stepped through, he was reading a small data-pad and wasn't paying attention to where he was going. He felt a sharp pain run through his body as he banged his head against a rack hanging from the ceiling. Cursing Zim dropped the pad and held his forehead, one of the biggest drawbacks of growing in the damn ships designed for someone closer to my old height. Hitting my head all the time and getting my antenna caught over and over again is blasted annoying. He wanted to snarl and rip the offending rack down, but he regained him composure. Another side effect had been his increased emotional instability, Gaz said it was normal but he did not enjoy having to control his 'feelings'. That brought an image to his mind, and he smiled, At least some of these blasted Earth-Creature 'Feelings' were fun to have, as he recalled the last few feelings he had around Gaz.

He mused that his head felt a lot better with so much less blood flowing to it, and bent down to grab his discarded data-pad. He had spent most of his time in the infirmary doing busy work, designing new armors and weapons for himself and Gaz, based partially on the old designs and their major flaws. But mostly he had to try and adapt them for space combat. He also had some time to review his drones in combat against the Irken ground forces, and while they had been extremely effective they needed some serious upgrades and some new models to help them in more tactical situations. Zim walked over to a desk on the far side and took a seat. The room felt much smaller compared to most compartments on the Dark Mistress but it was actually a little larger, it was just the massive size of all the equipment that gave it such a claustrophobic feel. His forge was built taking up most of the available space, what was left was split evenly between the armory and development stations.

The armory on the ship was very similar to the one in his old lair, it housed two separate chambers capable of engineering arms and armor tailored to the individual. While the development station looked more like a wall of movable monitors and floating keyboards. This is where he sat, seven of the nine screens were lit with information, Zim easily scanned each of these as he plugged his data-pad into the terminal port. A new set of feeds ran through each screen and Zim smiled. Upgrading his technology always gave him a sense of accomplishment. The Tallest were dead, the Irken fleet was crippled but the Empire was not beaten. They could rebuild, given enough time and the right leader they could come back even stronger. Zim thought about that for a few moments, temptation once more asserting itself, after all he was the tallest living Irken in history. I wonder how Gaz would feel about ruling the Galaxy with me…

POV-Ishia

She was silent, sitting in her command chair and watching the terrified crew around her. It had all happened so fast, one moment she was in command of the greatest fleet, no the greatest empire the universe had ever seen. Then in a flash her power was crippled, now she had a bare handful of badly damaged ships. They were limping their way back across the galaxy, having to do small jumps from gravity well to gravity well because of how badly each ship was damaged. She sighed heavily, noticing how several of her crew winced openly at her every move. She would not harm them, her fury was no longer a heated inferno. No, now it was cold, cold as death and twice as dangerous. A small wicked smile appeared on her features, Zim, when I find you I will make sure to rip everything you care about out of this world before I kill you.

A small chime notified one of the bridge watchmen that the sensors had picked something up, Ishia watched as the crewmen took a deep breath before standing and heading purposefully in her direction. She moved one hand to cover he mouth, she didn't want them to see her smiling. Her ability to terrify those around her was a point of pride for Ishia, and she wasn't about to give that up. As he neared her position, before he could utter a word, she softly uttered a simple question. Ishia "is it bad news watchman?" he paled and halted mid stride, a soft hush fell over the bridge as even the electronics seemed to quiet themselves in fear. He was sweating now, and Ishia could feel her mood rising, she never would get over making people afraid. Watchman "I… I don't know ma'am, a ship we had thought lost early in the invasion, we just received a signal that originated from it."

Ishia leaned forward, all thoughts of toying with the crewman vanished as digested this information. Another ship, Ishia "what was the signal Watchman, what did it say." Her tone was demanding and the watchman readily complied handing her a chip that she quickly inserted into her console.

Masters of the fleet, you were wrong. This Sir unit could not be stopped. We have only delayed it in its nefarious purpose. The unit is far more advanced than anything we have ever seen, its knowledge of tactics left our greatest military minds completely lost. We couldn't withstand its firepower nor its relentless advance. I cannot order my ship destroyed, it has taken the ship for itself. I pray that something will stop this evil before we are all dead. I have failed the Tallest.

With Regret, Captai-

Ishia read the message several times, the ship was a loss that much was certain, but Zims war machine was capable of destroying a capital ship all on its own. Now it was sitting on that ship, free for whoever wanted to reach out and take it. Ishia "Bridge, triangulate this signal. I want this ship found, and I want it found Now." Activity erupted around her as the crew did its best to comply with her orders. Ishia ignored it, something was eating away at her, something she just couldn't put her finger on. She focused on the signature, why was it incomplete. Surely if the captain had time to send this message he could have easily signed it properly… Then it hit her. Whoever this captain was, they didn't have the time to send this message. A trap, clever little war machine. She smiled again, resting back and lacing her fingers together in front of her face. Ishia "Crew, whenever you get off your collective asses and get me those coordinates, we will set course for them. Tell engineering I need shields and weapons fully active before we arrive at this ship. It's most definitely a trap."

POV-Master

His considerable bulk felt heavier than ever. The years had not been kind to his body, even while his mind had continued to expand his physical form kept him trapped in one place. Hooked to machines with tubes pumping hundreds of life giving chemicals into his system, he could never leave his chair. How he longed for the days of his youth, riding out in his glistening warships, purging the evils from the galaxy. He just didn't have enough time, the Doombringer had always eluded his grasp. He took the primitive Irken, gave them new purpose and new design. He fostered their technological understanding and planted the ideas that led to their dominance. It was several lifetimes of work, done over the vast reaches of space. It was his greatest masterpiece, and now it was his greatest failure.

He had to force his emotions down, lest another… 'accident' happen to his beloved servants. Sorrow clutched at his chest when he thought of poor innocent Mezzie, she had done nothing wrong. Had persisted in her charge to tell him what he needed to know, she had done everything he could have wished for. Yet in his rage he had crushed her mind, pulping her identity with a wall of hate. Even those thoughts he had to repress, otherwise he might affect another of those around him. He needed them all now, more than ever. The Doombringer was loose upon the galaxy, and he was the only one who could stop it. Taking a deep breath he whispered a small prayer to his ancestors, hoping they would listen and aid him in his eternal quest to bring peace and order to the galaxy.

End- Prologue.

Authors note: just wanted to get a quick teaser out for everyone who's interested in the second book. I apologize that it isn't as long or as deep as my normal chapters. I promise to make chapter 1 worth it :)