Author's Notes: Why do I ever say I'll only write one fic in a fandom? I really didn't plan to dive head-first into Invader Zim, but it happened, and now I have ideas popping up all over the place like angry plot bats. This is one of those ideas, and if the opening chapter means anything then this should be good. Hopefully. Anyway, since I have a tendency to overthink minor characters in everything I watch, I got to wondering what would've happened if Bob survived the episode "Hobo 13", and then this idea was born. Hope you guys will like it, and thanks for checking it out :)

Chapter 1

The Dwarf Star

It was getting hotter in the voot cruiser, and the star approached closer into view. Only now did the little Irken invader wannabe known as Zim figure out something was wrong with the controls of his ship. He could've been warned sooner, but the only other passenger, table-headed service drone Bob, was taped to the back of Zim's chair and unable to escape. How Zim never noticed him there Bob didn't know, but that oversight would cost them their lives.

Bob was terrified of dying, but part of him had to admit this was a more exciting death than he ever expected to have. In fact, everything about this experience seemed so surreal.

It had all started at the bar where Bob worked. Well, technically it started long before then.

When Bob was born he was smaller than other smeets, and he had a physical defect that was rare in the worst way. Most defects were grounds for termination, but fortunately Bob's didn't affect his ability to work; only the job that would be programmed into his PAK. Because he had a flat head and his antennae didn't feel the environment as sensitively as they should he was doomed to life as a living food service tray. He simply wasn't qualified for anything else according to the control brains.

Of course that was start of his career, but the beginning of the end happened only last cycle.

He had been in the kitchen getting drink refills when another food service drone (a normal looking one) came into the kitchen with an excited look on his face. Last time that happened they had gotten a glowing review from a local food critic. Maybe the health inspection went flawlessly this time or something.

"Hey guys, you'll never guess who walked into the bar!" The other waiter exclaimed, "The Almighty Tallest! They're actually in our bar!"

"Really? That's amazing!" Another drone replied with just as much enthusiasm, "Everyone will want to come here after they find out about this!"

Bob was happy his coworkers were happy, but the truth was he couldn't care less. He knew the leaders of Irk were tall and powerful, but the truth was he just didn't get starstruck like other Irkens did. He had his job, his tiny dark sleeping hole in the basement of the restaurant, his head-table, and the 5 monies every two years he earned from his manual labor. He wasn't exactly happy, but he knew kissing up to more powerful Irkens wasn't going to change his miserable lot in life, so why bother?

"Hey Bob, get out here now!" His supervisor yelled impatiently, "Table 5 wants more soda!"

"Yes, sir," Bob called out in his dull beleaguered voice.

He strapped on his table and placed the drinks on top with a deftness that came with experience. Many others would spill the drinks or trip due to the shackles that held the table in place, but Bob had been doing this since he was hatched. Part of him felt a twisted sense of pride at his ability to work with his tray as if it were an extension of his own body. He'd like to see the Almighty Tallests try to do that.

The shift went on for another half hour without incident. The customers reveled in their sodas and salty snacks, and the food service drones went about their business serving them. At one point the Tallest turned off the sports game to take a call from some invader or another, but nobody dared to complain lest they invoke the wrath of their leaders. Bob thought nothing of it. After all, he was too short and lowly in programming to be noticed by two beings with such elevated stature. In a way he felt protected by his anonymity.

Then...it happened.

Zim, the Irken Empire's most notorious exiled invader, was going to Hobo 13 to be trained. Well, more like executed horribly, but Zim didn't know that. It had all started with a few playful bets. Each customer delighted not only in the game of chance to guess how Zim would die, but also in being involved in this game with their Tallests. Bob simply walked around with his table trying to do his job, but then Tallest Red pointed directly down at him, and his world seemed to slow down.

"You! Table-headed service drone Bob. You'll bet 500,000 monies on Zim succeeding," Red ordered Bob in a voice that sounded casual yet commanding.

"But, I only make 5 monies every two years," Bob tried to explain, but his voice sounded so small and timid and he wasn't even sure they heard him.

"500,000 for Zim!" Tallest Purple confirmed, and the crowd cheered.

Bob couldn't believe this was happening. He would never be able to pay that many monies back, and there was no way Zim could survive. The whole point of this trip to Hobo 13 was for Zim to die. It was the will of the Tallests. Bob would probably be thrown in a debtor's prison or shot out of a cannon for not paying back his massive debt.

Not knowing what else to do, Bob's knees buckled a little and he began to cry silent tears. He didn't fall, thankfully the table kept him from doing that, but he couldn't stop himself from crying. Fortunately no one was paying attention to Bob. No one ever paid attention to a tiny flat-headed service drone like him.

The broadcast went on for some time. Bob noticed most of the customers were so involved with the feed of Hobo 13 that they weren't ordering drinks. Bob's supervisor was a little peeved by this, but Bob was grateful for a moment to go back into the kitchen and breathe. His hopes and dreams depended on the insane defect that had been banished to the backwash of the galaxy, and he had no control over his own life anymore. Bob didn't even gamble! When would he ever have monies to gamble with anyway? This just wasn't fair!

Bob had used his down time to cut up an old green tablecloth to make a little flag that said GO ZIM on it. He knew it was futile, but he really, really wanted that former invader to prove them all wrong and keep him from going to airlock-prison or wherever debtors to the Tallests go.

When Bob's break ended he was forced to go back out there, out to face the crowd and the screen with that desert boot camp displayed on it. He attached his little flag to the table and placed an order of nachos on there as well. Might as well face his destiny head-on.

When he got out there he served the nachos to the awaiting customer, who 'accidentally' spilled the rest of his drink at the drone's feet and caused him to almost fall over. Customers were always abusing Bob that way. They felt that because he was a defect it was perfectly alright to torment him and make fun of him. He hated it. He hated his job and he hated what life had programmed him for. He wanted better, but he knew he would never get it, especially not now.

Then, as he stood below the Tallests awaiting their next order, something amazing happened. Zim won. He was actually winning! Invader Zim was defeating the trials and succeeding!

Bob quickly took a calculator out of his PAK and entered the odds to determine how many monies he would get if Zim pulled through. 6 million. Bob could hardly believe it! He would get 6 million monies if Zim passed every obstacle. He would be as rich as a tall Irken! He could live anywhere he wanted, and he would never have to work another day in his life.

"Uh, Bobby?" Tallest Purple called down to him in a condescending voice while shaking his empty cup, "It appears I need a refill."

"Argh! Get it yourself!" Bob snapped, actually snapped, at the Tallest.

The Tallests were too stunned to yell back at him. They merely looked back at each in bewilderment. Bob didn't care. He was either going to be rich or going to go to a debtor's airlock-prison-angry beehive. Either way the Tallests no longer had the power to threaten him...or so he thought.

Bob couldn't help but look back on what a fool he'd been. Of course the Tallests would never honor their debt to a mere food service drone, especially one as imperfect and unimportant as he was. When Zim succeeded Bob was sure his worries were over, and had quit his job on the spot as he threw his table on the ground in a huff.

Looking back, Bob wondered if it was actually the monies that sealed his fate or the fact that he was so disrespectful to the Tallests. Looking at it that way, he figured he probably deserved to fry in a dwarf star. No Irken ever questioned or yelled at the Tallest. Ever. Bob really was a defect.

Just as Bob was lamenting his life and trying his best to not be afraid of death, another miracle happened to him for the second time that week. The ship turned away from the star.

"Finally, found the problem!" Zim exclaimed in triumph. For some reason Zim had been talking to himself the entire trip, "For some reason the navigation relay was missing. Good thing I had a spare in my PAK. Now I can take this beautiful ship back to earth and cannibalize it for parts. Then I will create a super weapon to- Wait, no, I should wait for that bag of tanks the Tallest promised me! Yes, I will have victory over all! I am ZIM!"

Earth? The planet that was 75% acid water? Bob began to sob at the prospect of going to such a disgusting death trap. Even his crummy serving table job was better than that! He was going to burn and drown!

"Huh?" Zim grunted; having heard Bob's loud crying, "Who's in here!? Who dares invade the ship of ZIM?"

Zim got up and looked around shiftily, finally seeing Bob tied up behind the seat. Bob stared wide eyed at the crazed invader. Zim might've been a joke so the powerful elites, but to a civilian like Bob that had just seen Zim fight and manipulate his way through a boot camp, he was utterly terrifying. Zim was trained as an invader, he had killed two previous Tallests, and had nearly decimated their own home planet. In short, he was the closest equivalent to a serial terrorist an Irken could imagine, and he had just discovered Bob in his ship.

"Who are you!?" Zim demanded to know as he pointed an accusing claw at the tied up drone.

"Mmf, mfmph, hmph!" Bob tried to speak, but his mouth was taped up.

Zim stomped up to Bob and violently ripped the tape off his mouth. Bob yelped in pain, and then tried to collect himself so he could speak to Zim without sounding like a complete wuss.

"What is the meaning of this!? Who are you? Answer Zim!" Zim interrogated the hapless smaller Irken.

"I'm...I'm…" Bob was going to tell the truth, but telling an invader, even one as mad as Zim, that he insulted the Tallests was suicide, "I'm lost. I thought this was a different ship. I'm sorry, sir."

"Get out!" Zim shouted as he pointed to the door.

"But...I'm still tied up, and we're in space," Bob objected, but he knew he sounded more like he was whining.

Zim used one of his PAK legs to cut the bindings around Bob, and then fixed him with a hard glare. To be fair, almost getting burned up in a sun after surviving Hobo 13 would put anyone in a sour mood. Bob could understand Zim being suspicious of a stranger, even one as harmless looking as him.

"Get out," Zim hissed in a quiet tone that was somehow scarier than his yelling.

"Um, should I take an escape pod, or-?" Bob tried to ask.

"GET OUT!" Zim screamed for seemingly no reason, causing Bob to run to the other side of the ship away from Zim, "You will not steal Zim's glorious new ship! Be gone, intruder!"

Bob managed to find a small escape pod and quickly got inside. He felt it being ejected and soon was drifting aimlessly through space inside the thing. After a moment he realized what a stupid knee jerk decision this had been.

Fortunately he was a smaller Irken, so he wasn't uncomfortable. Unfortunately he had no food and no way to control the pod. All he had was a distress signal so he could ask for help, except he couldn't. He was sentenced to burn by the Tallests. He could never return to Irk or else he would be killed. Like it or not, Bob had nowhere to go and soon would die alone in space.

And it had started out as such a normal day...