She hated him. She hated him with every fiber of her being, for everything he caused. Not a day went by where she didn't think of him. How he crushed her hopes and dreams, how he ruined everything of worth to her. Nothing could ever change the past. Only action now, in the present, could mend her future. The past…. Her life was perfect, everything for her was perfect. She was going to be an invader and in doing so, she would have gained the highest respect from every Irken in the empire, not to mention the tallest. She was about to take her final exam to fulfill her lifelong wish, when HE caused a blackout the RUINED her LIFE. Oh, the things she would do if she ever did find him, how he would pay for what he did.
Revenge was not a thing she regarded highly, but that too, was in the past. Now, it was the reason she continued her pitiful existence. It is the only motive she had to endure her new life. It is now, the fire behind her eyes…and the cold in her soul.
Zim sat in class with a paranoid dib glowering at him and for good cause too. Mrs. Bitter's lecture to the class had taken a turn for the worst, at least in Dib's opinion. They had gone from debating the Kentucky Weenie Farm Revolt, to a detailed discussion of the previous security breaches in the Gray House security system over the last couple decades. The one Mrs. Bitters was addressing now was back in 2029 when a couple of Russian spies had been able to bypass a firewall in the system and stolen valuable information. Everything was fine in a couple of weeks after the team was arrested and the information recovered, but the fact still remained that they had found a way through the system and the government still had no clue how they did it.
Dib was watching, unable to do anything as Zim began scribbling down notes on a suspiciously high-tech looking notebook. He was obviously writing down the information from Mrs. Bitters about the government. Dib quickly raised his hand in hopes of changing the subject.
Mrs. Bitters quickly materialized in front of Dib's desk. "What is it, Dib?" She hissed putting a menacing emphasis on Dib's name.
"Um, how did the Kentucky Weenie Farm revolt end?" Dib asked with a nervous smile, he could only imagine the displeasure on Zim's face as their teacher continued her previous lecture with a very gruesome description on the collapse of the entire Kentucky weenie industry. After learning the proper treatment for a zombie weenie bite, the class was dismissed for lunch.
Dib sat next to his sister who was playing her game as she was every day. She offered a little sound, acknowledging his presence but nothing more. He began to eat his lunch quietly, gagging down the less-than-pleasant "corn chowder". He was just finishing when Zim strode up to him confidently. He stood on the opposite side of the table.
"If you think you're little diversion had even the slightest effect on my ingenious new plan, then you must be even more stupid than I thought!" He sneered, slamming his palm on the table causing Dib's tray to quiver slightly.
Dib stood facing Zim, and in the process drawing the attention of interested eyes around them. At first the emotion shown on his face was anger, expressed in clenched fists and a weary expression on his face. Then, it was one of resolve. He is not about the get the satisfaction of making me angry. He picked up his tray and walked around the table to Zim, who took a small half step back, smirking as though he thought he had won before it was over. Dib paused and then dumped the remaining contents of his tray over his adversary's head. Laughter grew from the surrounding school children, enraging Zim. Just before the pain of the filthy earth sludge kicked in, he shot a look of cold, bloody hatred into the eyes of his enemy, who returned the look with easily matched potency.
Tak watched the sun rise once again, with the same bitter contempt as every other morning. She had just spent the night working on the different schematics she had designed for her soon-to-be voot cruiser, modified of course.
After she had run out of fuel and been forced to land here, on a nearby planet, all her free time had been devoted to transforming her feeble little escape pod into a vessel capable of traveling longer distances. That of course would have been much too perfect, though. There was a problem, many problems. The first and foremost would be the lack of resources. Not even the greatest of Irken invaders could have produced a long-distance craft using only a shabby escape pod for parts, no that would have been too easy.
The planet she had the misfortune of being stranded on was at the very edge of the Irken Empire. A planet called X-136; it hadn't even been given a proper name. Outcast planets as such are greatly overlooked by Irkens in high authority, a criminal's refuge. Therefore, most beings on these planets are looking for a place to eat, sleep and avoid eye-contact. No store keeper in their right mind would bother with these criminal ridden places, unless of course it was cheap accommodations or a quick meal that was being offered. In other words, there was no place for buying building materials, no resources. Not that she had the money to buy anything anyways, no, that was problem number two.
Because of the lack of suppliers, all of her materials were shipped in from other planets within the Irken Empire, which cost big money. And in this kind of environment money was acquired one of two ways; you earn it the hard old fashioned way, or you stole it. Tak still had at least an ounce of dignity left so she did not steal…often. She had a job; yes she had gotten herself a job. It was not a glamorous or even an easy one, but it paid good money…speaking of her job here she was arriving at the place now.
"You late" Melba grunted bluntly. "Again" Tak's boss was nothing to brag about. A fat, old Irken with a little dinner in the middle of town, but she cared and that was enough. Melba quickly threw one of the rough aprons with a faded little logo in the top right corner in Tak's direction. She caught it with an angry fist.
Tak was seething, and with every word of Melba's all too familiar you're-late-again speech, her anger grew to a dangerous level. That is, until some new words escaped Melba's tight little mouth. "Lighten up honey, you're always so tense"
After seeing Tak's angry expression transform to a slightly confused one Melba's tone became one more appropriate for the situation "for the customers at least then" she added bluntly. Tak gave one more scowl and then marched away to begin the day's torment.
"Welcome to The EatBeast what can I get for you today, sir?"
"That ROTTEN Dib-worm" Zim yelled, frustrated. "He hasn't even seen my amazing plan!" Zim slammed the front door behind him; he had just arrived home from after school.
"COMPUER! Take me to the Schematics room; it is time to devise a NEW AMAZING plan"
"Sure, whatever" came the unconvincing reply. As the floor underneath Zim's feat lowered him down to the requested area (hopefully) Gir came running in from the Kitchen. Zim could see Gir's head as he looked down the shaft of the still descending elevator.
"YOOOUUUU GOT MAIL!" he drawled. Zim rolled his eyes at the frayed tone in his assistant's voice before turning his attention to the matter at hand. A NEW plan would require a NEW threat. Maybe he could scrape some over-looked human-weakness from the depths of Gir's memory chip…maybe.
Now that the elevator had stopped and Zim had exited it, he found himself, not in the schematics room but entrance to the armory. He rolled his eyes and then stared up at the celling covered in thick tubes and wires. Updating the computer's service ability would take weeks but it was obviously needed. He turned away from the armory entrance and headed down a hall to the main control chamber. He was just about to pass through to the schematics room when something on the side of the wall caught his eye. A screen about two feet above his head was blinking a red message: INCOMING TRANSMISSION.
Perplexed, Zim reached over to the keyboard of to the side and quickly punched in a sequence to begin the message. It was recorded, he could tell as soon as it began…
It was a solemn faced Irken, Head Assigner Skutch actually. He was standing stiff with his arms down by his side and his head tilted upward slightly. "Due to recent activity in the gauzan region, the Irken military has hereby postponed your current mission and instructed you to report to the base, Katztn in sector 43-847. He seemed to stagger a bit before continuing.
"I am here to inform you of the mass reassigning as a result of our current situation with the Despian rebellion. Subject…" Skutch's voice was replaced by An emotionless recorded voice "food service drone number 188632-866" Skutch now continued "will report to loading dock K54 to receive further instruction, good evening"
Zim stood silent for a moment, thinking about what he had just heard. Had he just been…drafted? It made no difference anyways, that was Head Assigner Skutch. So, if he said to report to the Katztn base, then that's what was going to happen.
Ok, guys this is my first IZ fanfic, so I know it's probably not the best but I will tell you that I have big plans for this one, big plans! XD Comment and I will continue.