TITLE: Our Own Armada

RATING: T

SUMMARY: The Tallest decide that all Invaders, once their missions are complete, will be terminated, as the Armada has no use for "obsolete" warriors. Led by Skoodge, the first exiled survivor, the ex-invaders search for a new home and find it with the most defective Invader of all.

DISCLAIMER: I love Invader Zim and thank Jhonen Vasquez subconsciously every time I destroy his work like this. However, I do not own Zim or any of the characters created by Jhonen, and use them only as long as he doesn't decide to go Anne Rice on all of us.

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"Tak," Skoodge said, interrupting her pondering of deep-space as they cruised past Orba Fala.

It was a small, purple planet, filled with juice-spewing Clorba larva, which produced the sweetest jelly in all of Space. It had been Invader Spleen's assigned planet, forcing him to cover himself daily in purple goo to blend in with the horrible natives, and while he had eventually managed to conquer the idiotic Clorba and their adult forms, Clorabora, which were gigantic worms with hundreds of razor-like teeth, his reward for years of diligent and dangerous work was not what he'd expected.

"How is Spleen's PAK doing?" Skoodge continued.

"You'd have to ask Stink," Tak replied, busying herself with the ship's controls as they came into orbit around the planet. "When we get sun-side, we'll have to disengage orbit and hide behind one of the planet's moons. We don't want them to pick us up on scans. Have we heard anything from Nen or Larb?"

"They're still terra-bound," Skoodge sighed. "No communication whatsoever. We'll have to jump and leave them behind if we hear nothing before 09:00."

"We're not leaving anyone behind," Tak snarled, twisting in her seat to stare Skoodge down. It may have been his ship, but Tak was eldest and tallest by a wedge of antenna, and she was not going to let anyone forget it.

From the deck of their renovated Ring Cutter, Tak and Skoodge had a brilliant view of Orba Fala's twin suns as they came around the far side of the planet. It took both dwarf stars to keep this particular little system alive, and while the three planets that it comprised were not all under Irken control, it was unclear how much longer it would be before the entire body ceased to exist.

Taking the ship out of orbit and making a beeline for the nearest moon, Tak noted the huge shrapnel field encircling the planet like a vulgar halo. Pieces of Clorba and Clorabora were preserved in the dead of space, floating through chunks of earth and the remnants of crude buildings, while Irken celebratory streamers wove through the carnage, making Tak's squeedly spoodge convulse. Somewhere on the surface of this ravaged planet, two of her disguised comrades were searching for supplies and cheap fuel cells that would hopefully power them all the way to Meekrob before its Final Sweep. If not, it was unclear what would become of Tenn, but Tak wasn't willing to take that path just yet.

A hail of static burst onto the deck as planet-side Larb tried to tune his communicator to the proper frequency. The Spittle Runner that they'd taken down to the surface had enough fuel now to get back to the ship, and with all the necessary supplies being loaded onto the small transport by Nen, their glorified pack mule, they were ready for the most dangerous part of the mission: Skoodge would have to steer the Ring Cutter into the atmosphere to scoop up the Spittle Runner so the smaller vessel wouldn't burn too much fuel, then escape the planet's gravitational field, line up the trajectory for a deep-space jump around the Narnar nebula, and pile-drive the malfunctioning reactor core with the backup drive all in under 30 clicks, or risk being picked up by Irken scouters.

"You ready for the swoop and squat?" came Larb's sour voice over the intercom. "We didn't have anyone tailing us as far as we could tell, but that isn't worth dookie with the Runner's scanners at half cap."

"That's a positive, you foog," Skoodge replied, putting the Cutter on autopilot, taking the controls from Tak, and calling Larb something that best translated as 'one without proper brain control.' "Get as high as you can and look for the beacon; we really should have found another way to do this entirely."

"Spleen will die if we don't repair his PAK," Nen put in, his voice sounding distant. Most likely he and Larb were taking the Runner up, and Nen was driving, leaving Larb to fool with the communicator.

"I know that," Skoodge replied. "I'd like to take the glorb-gnoshing twit who came up with PAK-ripping and feed him to the Hogulus."

PAK-ripping was a crude way of immobilizing Irkens without killing them. It was against Irken law to destroy the PAK entirely, and so when enacting the Obsolete Action, the legislative council had ruled that extreme damage was permissible, as long as death was only a "probable side-effect." The rip was executed by attaching a magnetic censor to the main panel of the PAK and tearing this piece off, taking several processing units with it and leaving the innards dangerously exposed.

This was the fate of all obsolete smeets and their PAKs. This was what had brought these particular Irkens together.

This was why they needed to save Tenn.