True to form and just as Red had expected, the moment Purple set foot on the ship he headed straight to the nearest comfortable surface. Considering that the ship had been outfitted with the sole intent to ferry a Tallest, there was, luckily enough, a couch (Vortian made, as per Miyuki's taste) directly on the bridge and long enough to accommodate his height.

Purple left his case somewhere it would be easily accessible and curled up immediately, as Red went on keying up the systems and initiating take-off. While his partner's ire seemed to have cooled slightly, he took little chance, keeping his thoughts to himself as he pulled his knees up against his chest and closed his eyes, measuring out breaths one by one, with antennae tucked close to his head. Ignoring the sounds of the ship, the rumbling purr of the engines, the soft beep of her various systems as they went about their tasks, he listened only for the sound of Red's retreating steps as he left – only then allowing himself a strangled sob.

Meanwhile, Red, having little to worry about as the ship was set on auto-pilot, contented himself with becoming a little more familiar with the Runner they were on. She was custom-built, of course, and though it looked as though her paint had been updated, he imagined much had gone unchanged over the years. Much larger than a Voot, but still not large enough for a sizable crew, the ship had been designed to be able to accommodate the Almighty Tallest and up to three of their Advisors, Guards or Council - or, as the case was currently, two Almighty Tallest.

It boasted an on-board suite, which Red supposed he would have to mention to Purple later (he'd be liable to appreciate that,); a sizable cargo hold, although it held only four crates he was fairly sure had been here since the beginning; a kitchen, empty but possessing the sort of equipment that could make some of the cooks onboard the Massive jealous. And, of coursec its own (very small) engine room -its door was jammed, which was frustrating; he would have loved poking around the old-school Vort-tech.

All in all, he couldn't complain about the state of the vessel itself. It wasn't his ship. Of course, nothing would ever come close to the Massive, which Red still insisted was his ship, despite the fact that it technically belonged to "any" and "all" "Almighty Tallest" that were and ever would be. But it would do for the short term. There were just a few small discrepancies that he'd have to take up with whomever was supposed to be in charge of these things later. For now, he just had to make sure the journey was as peaceful as possible.

Of course, the best way to do this, Red concluded, was to give Purple a little space. So long as he wasn't in the same room, he didn't run the risk of saying something - or, more likely, of Purple saying something else they'd both regret. With limited options, Red settled for poking around the ship's suite, something else he imagined hadn't been changed much since Miyuki's time, though he could easily see some of Spork's influence scattered here and there as well. Spork's reign had been thankfully short, a little brutal perhaps as the Former Tallest had the drive of conquest and a thirst for strengthening the Irken military, but none of the strategic know-how to back it up. And yet, there had still been time enough for those in charge to update Miyuki's protocol.

There was something odd about that. something that set him on edge, making his antennae twitch. A quick glance over the room gave way to a more thorough going over, drawer by drawer, shelf by shelf in pursuit of something to ease the discomfort that had begun to gnaw at the back of his brain like some sort of parasite. In the end, he'd left the suite in shambles and moved on to the cargo hold, using spider legs to tear into the archaic crates (nobody used wood anymore; it just didn't make sense.) Like the break of a time capsule, he found himself swimming in echoes of the Tallest that had never had the chance to use a ship like this. Her crew had prepared her for their needs and left it at that, never bothering to return and collect what was left behind.

It wasn't the shadows, Miyuki's robes, Spork's unusual collection of armor and laser-enforced blades (though those were certainly on Red's 'Ooo Shiny!' list of the day,) or even the outdated pieces of technology that bothered him.

It was the fact that throughout the ship, The Tallests' ship, there was not so much as a whisper of the Empire's current Tallest. Had they gone so long without using the failsafe that they just didn't bother updating the ship's contents? Did they simply expect him and Purple to have died, as their predecessors had, long before they might ever have need of it?

What might have been a pleasant cruise through space for a former Tallest was hardly any more than a brief stint on a ghost ship for Red; and though it might be frowned upon, he'd never been very fond of anything that might lean towards the superstitious. He was quickly growing to need a distraction from his distraction, and the single best distraction for Tallest Red in the whole of the Empire had and would certainly always be Tallest Purple.

He'd expected to have to wake him, was even prepared to do so in the most irritating way possible, but was surprised to find Purple sitting upright, almost where he'd left him, staring fixedly at the wall in front of him as though it held the answers to the universe… It was unsettling, but Red just shrugged it off as he usually did and made himself comfortable in the pilot's seat. "You know," he offered, letting amusement seep into his tone, "for someone so concerned with our wellbeing and the good of the Empire, Rarl's got to be the most useless Advisor I've ever met, not that he's much use in advising as it is. I mean, we never listen to him anyway, but I've just been through the ship and there's not so much as a can of nacho cheese."

He waited a beat after Purple failed to respond, then grinned and cast a glance back over his shoulder "I did find some of Miyuki's old dresses though, might fit you, if you're curious."

Again, nothing. Rolling his eyes, Red settled for tapping out their current coordinates, bringing up the projected estimate for their landing. "I'd be more concerned about it, the lack of food, I mean, not you wearing Miyuki's clothes. But the warp drive on this thing is fantastic; it looks like we'll be there in roughly an hour or two. Still, with Rarl slipping like that… Maybe we can fire him after we get back, huh?"

Purple didn't move but did make a small sound of acknowledgement.

"That usually cheers you up, doesn't it? How many times have you fired him now? Thirty-seven, I think, wasn't it?"

"Thirty-six," Purple mumbled, this time prompting Red to actually turn round in his chair. A quick glance at the ship's clock proved they'd been en route no less than four hours, something which would have later unsettled Red, when he thought about just how long he'd spent trying to figure out why there was no sign of him on his own ship (and just how long Purple must have been staring at that wall.)

"C'mon, Pur… You've been sulking over there for hours now. You can't still be mad about the 'defect' comment, can you? You know I didn't mean any of it. I was just… tense, is all."

Purple tightened the grip he had on his knees, bending into himself a little more. "No, it's got nothing to do with that, and… You were right, I don't know what made me grab that stupid puppet; it was dumb. This is just- it's stupid… It's so, so stupid, but you have to promise not to laugh, all right?"

Red couldn't help his scoff, before nodding once, "All right, I won't laugh."

Turning the chair around, Red made his best attempt at a serious, considerate expression as Purple raised his head, just a little, glancing back at him. "Remember you promised…"

"Yes, yes," he held up his claws, "I promised."

"It's just… I might… maybe… perhaps, just maybe, have this little issue about… well… something to do with being afraid of …well, flying… And... um… Space."

It was surprising how quickly Red's expression could go from 'I am taking you seriously and am concerned for your well-being' to 'Are you fucking shitting me?', before he finally just ended with a soft laugh. "Wow, you really are defective. We're IRKENS. We're a space-faring race. We travel the universe, conquering, In ships. Flying. Through Space. Come on, Purple- You can't be serious."

Purple scowled at him briefly, before ducking his head again, muttering a few (creative, as far as Purple went) curses. "It isn't funny, Red. I know it's stupid. You know I've never done well; I always hated traveling."

"Aw come on, that isn't true," Red scoffed again, waving a hand as he stood. "You did just fine whenever our unit got shipped out. I never heard you complain then. You just locked yourself in the supply closet because you were convinced that Zim was going to try getting hold of the- … Oh."

He blinked, rubbing the back of his head. "Wow… Uh… How'd I miss that?"

Purple rolled his eyes, though Red could tell he was fighting not to smile. "You can miss anything, if it isn't something you want to see, Red. It isn't always a problem… I mean, being on the Massive isn't any trouble at all; it's effectively a mobile planet, other than a few… HORRIBLE instances I don't want to even think about, you can hardly even tell you're in space unless you spend all your time staring at it."

"I can't believe I never thought about it though; and you were such an awful pilot too. Sweet Irk, you spent over half the simulations with your hands over your eyes- come to think of it… How did you pass the sims, anyhow? I never did figure that out… I mean, obviously mistakes happen; ZIM passed after all…"

Purple coughed, looking anywhere other than Red. The floor was a good option. "Well… I maaaay have reconfigured the processor to give me better results the night before our final evaluation. Or bribed Zim to do it. Or something like that."

Red actually laughed, shaking his head. "You know, Pur, every time I think I've managed to figure you out, you go and surprise me. I'm not gonna say it isn't stupid, 'cause wow, is it ever stupid… Why even bother? If they'd found out, you could have been stuck in some janitorial squad or something. If you didn't want to get dragged around space, why didn't you just transfer? When you actually bothered applying yourself, your scores were fantastic; the Medical Division would have taken you on in an instant or even-"

Purple cut him off. "You said we should be Elite… You said we would make the greatest team there ever was; the four of us were going to conquer the Universe. That's what you wanted to do, You said we should be Elite, so we were."

Blinking in surprise again, Red finally approached Purple, letting his hand hover over his shoulder for a moment before carefully setting it down, gently at first until Purple raised his own, laying his claws across the top of Red's. "You became Elite, became an Invader, because I told you to? Huh… I guess that's why you've never listened to a thing I've told you to do since, right?"

"That's right," he replied, smiling softly.

"You're crazy, y'know," Red grinned, giving his partner's shoulder a quick squeeze, "But crazy or not, you've got nothing to worry about. You remember my scores. Best on Devastus, I could've done those simulations blindfolded; little Runner like this one? Not a problem."

Purple only nodded, seeing no harm in indulging Red's ego for once. "It's true, You are the best pilot I've ever seen; the new recruits are still trying to beat your records."

"Hah! Let them try. Remember how I handled the Massive when she went crazy? I took care of that, didn't I? And I don't even have to pilot this one; everything's automated and safe as you please. We'll come out of hyperspace in an hour and zip right on down planet-side. I'm here," he beamed, antennae raised proudly. "Nothing's gonna go wrong."

Abruptly, there came the sound of metal wrenching in on itself, and the ship went dark, alarms blaring in a near-deafening roar as the auxiliary lights came up again, glowing their muted crimson. /ATTENTION!/ called the ship's voice, a pleasant, well-educated female both Tallest could recognize as a copy of Miyuki's personality interface. /SOMETHING HAS GONE WRONG!/

Purple's claws dug sharply into the top of Red's, his eyes widening as he sucked in a breath. Miyuki's automated voice continued its declaration in a surprisingly positive tone whilst the two Tallest exchanged a mutual look of terror.

/The ship has suffered core meltdown, which is rather unfortunate for the both of you!The Estimated time of your HORRIBLE pain-filled doom is in less than fifteen minutes- Oh dear, that's not good at all, is it? Support Systems are DOWN, I'm afraid - My shields and weapons systems are DOWN.Communications Support is also down!/

Fairly sure the back of his hand (as well as Purple's shoulder) was bleeding by now, Red glanced back at the ship's display, as it merrily flashed a series of statistics before bringing up a video on the main screen. Music filled the bridge as four Vortians, dressed in prisoners uniforms, appeared in shadow. /The radio-caster is in perfect working order, and oooh, it's that song from the Vortian-Boy Band!/

The AI seemed to sigh happily. /I do so love this one…/

Both Tallest blanched, neither wanting to be reminded of Miyuki's odd fascination with their former ally - a fact which was quickly tossed aside as the AI paused its cheerful sing-along to helpfully add, / Life support systems at fifty percent - Power dropping at ninety percent, eighty percent, seventy percent, sixty percent -if you plan to do anything, my Tallest, I would certainly suggest you attempt doing so now!/

A quick glance back down at Purple and Red was fairly sure the lavender-eyed irken had started to hyperventilate. He couldn't really worry about that, however, pulling away sharply in a motion that sent Purple falling backward, staring wide-eyed at the screen while Red leapt back into the pilot's seat and immediately letting his claws dart over the controls. "Okay- no problem. We're fine, hang on- I've just got to get us out of the automated systems and put her into manual overdrive; that'll just take me a minute or two; we'll be just fine."

Screens flashed rapid lines of code and status reports. Red's claws moving rapid-fire while his eyes darted over the information, and in the background, four Vortians and an AI crooned about the tragic loss of their home and the sting of betrayal. Red let out a holler about the same time Purple choked on a sob. "THERE! Now to get us out of hyper-space, and we'll just come in for a landing on the nearest available planet. No problem, it's no problem-"

/Oh, Oh... We had a good thing goin' -Oh, Oh, baby, why'd you burn us down? Oh, Oh... We never meant ta hurt'cha- Power levels now at forty-five percent, thirty percent.../

"YES, THANK YOU. I CAN SEE THAT!" Red roared, punching the ship's engines hard, as she broke from hyperspace, another blaring alarm signaling the failure of the navigation systems. "We're out!" He turned, grinning wildly at Purple. "See? Just like that, best pilot you ever knew, right?" He laughed, perhaps a little too high, a little too insane. "Didn't even put us near Resortia either, just that stupid little dirt-ball Zim's on. Now all we've got to do is avoid him and we'll be just fine!"

/AND NOW WE'RE BURNT TO THE GROUUUUND! Ten percent- five percent- System at-/

The AI cut off with a slow drag of syllables, and Red sucked in a breath, closing his eyes tightly for a moment. "Okay, Purple, we're coming down hard and fast. We don't have breaks, all right? So just-Grab something and hold ON. We're gonna be fine."

The ground came up in a rush, the sound of impact echoing in Red's antennae with the kind of clarity he knew simply wasn't possible. He laughed again, softer, quieter, "We're gonna be just fine." Whispering again as though it were a prayer, "I promise."

The scent of smoke, mixed with fuel and hydraulic fluid, did much to mask the sickly-sweet smell of Irken blood, but little to mask the overwhelming pain. Just opening his eyes a sliver was difficult, and nearly impossible, he discovered, when it came to his right. He must have taken quite the hit to his right side, though he was fairly certain he'd woken rolled onto his left. Perhaps he'd managed to reposition himself somehow to lessen the aggravation of the wounds…

Blurrily, he tried to come back to himself long enough to access the damage. The worst of it certainly did seem centered towards his right: cracked ribs, lacerations, surely; he could feel the sluggish flow of blood down the side of his face. His hearing seemed to be damaged as well, which explained the terrible throbbing just above his temple; something must've happened to his antennae. Breath rattling in his chest, exhaustion began to take over, and he let his eyes fall shut once again. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. They'd made it… They'd made it, and now he could rest, just for a moment or two.

/REACTIVATE./

His good eye snapped open, body going tense. Purple knew that sound; he'd heard it once, only once before, on another cursed planet, the sound of it making his insides twist and the blood freeze in his veins. He heard it once when the two of them, he and Red, had been young, scared, and alone.

Rolling himself over, he forced his limbs to cooperate once again, thankful at least that his limbs seemed mostly intact. No broken bones there, at least. The wound in his side shifted painfully ,and he choked clutching lightly until his claws came away stained pink… He could hear the snap of broken wires and the sizzle of fire, steadily blooming somewhere amidst the broken glass and fragmented electronics…

They were going to have to move quickly, it seemed, and if he was right, which he feared he might be, Red wasn't going to be in any kind of shape to be moving at all. Rising shakily to a stand, Purple swayed on his feet before he stumbled, falling sideways against the wall, catching himself on its jagged edge. He choked out a soft laugh. If he wasn't more careful, he imagined, he might lose more than his thumbs.

He retrieved his case. Thankfully, blessedly, the damn thing had survived, tucked underneath the couch, which stubbornly had remained where it was bolted to the floor. They would need it now more than ever he imagined, a thought which was only assured after he found Red, twisted beneath the wreckage of the ship's console, mangled Pak giving off tiny, ominous sparks.

The rumbling press of heat refused to allow Purple more time to discern anything more than the fact that his co-Tallest was indeed still breathing, soft, shallow breaths that indicated at least his body yet lived. The state of the rest of him would have to be dealt with later.

Ignoring the screaming protest of his own injuries, the fresh wave of blood that flowed deep from his side, as well as the frantic warnings set off in his brain that Red shouldn't be moved at all, he worked as quickly as his own body would allow to pull the mess of cables and dented metal off of his partner.

Fire had crawled swiftly up the hallways now, catching light to the floor, climbing the walls like a starved thing, but Purple paid it little heed as he hauled the other Irken upright, pulling Red's arm across his shoulders and half-dragging them both through the shattered remains of the windshield. His steps were slow, jagged movements that left a sluggish trail of mud behind them. He didn't know where he was going, didn't know where he could go. But for now, so long as the climbing flames stayed behind them, he really didn't think he cared.

They'd landed, it seemed, in some sort of park - not too close, but not too far from a residential area. If they were luck,y there would be somewhere on the planet he could find an antennae large enough to broadcast a distress signal. He'd just have to find it and get them there, without either of them bleeding to death or stumbling onto the native inhabitants.

At their best, the two could have easily dealt with a problem, but now, leaning up against the tree line, Purple knew that neither of them had any chance of surviving a direct confrontation, even if humans were- as stupid as Zim claimed them to be. He gave Red another once-over as he tried to come up with possible options. The damage seemed to be superficial for the most part: plenty of bruises, a few lacerations that looked worse than they actually were, a dislocated shoulder (easily fixable.) The real damage, or what was cause for concern, had been the blow to his head and the extent of possible damage to the ID Pak.

The chassis, itself, had been nearly caved in, and without having a secure place for them to hide, Purple really didn't want to even attempt to discover what sort of damage might have been caused internally. His own Pak may have been better off, but even that was starting to wear as he'd continued to push his body to its limits- still it offered a small glimmer of hope.

/Location of nearest medical facilities approximately-/

Blinking, his good antennae perked. "Medical facility… Ah! That's right…" He grinned down at Red,. "You may have wanted to avoid the little menace, but every standard-issue Invader's kit contains the necessary equipment for treatment in the field. Looks like we'll be giving our friend, Zim, that visit he's always asking for."

All he'd have to do is pinpoint the general location of the wannabe-Invader's base, and then, if luck held out, Zim would be as stupid as he remembered.

Zim turned out to be even more stupid than he remembered, and there would no longer be doubt in Purple's mind that humans were, indeed, a race of morons - there was no way that obnoxious, little green hous,e with its hideous decorations and eyeball-searing windows could be considered normal.

"We've found him… I wouldn't have trusted it, if it was just my Pak picking up the signature for Irken tech, but this…. This is pure Zim… He's got to be the biggest idiot in the whole of Irken history, the worst example of an Invader our race has ever seen. But you know, Red… right now, I don't think I could love him more."

Those last steps felt as though they might take a century to complete. Logically, Purple knew it hadn't been that long, or even that far from the crash, but he certainly felt as though he'd already made his way across the planet, dragging his partner along as dead weight. He couldn't blame Zim entirely for the disaster of his base (yes, yes he could - he really, really could) though, he shuddered as the creepy eyes of the gnomes followed him towards the front door.

Years before during Spork's brief reign, Standard Issue Kits had been a thing of wonder. Irkens were renowned for being able to blend in seamlessly with a native race, crippling systems of government from the inside, observing from perfectly structured illusions. THEN... Then, Impending Doom One had happened - Zim's fault, all Zim's. The resulting destruction had eliminated the Invader Core almost entirely, devastated the Irken population, and nearly destroyed over seventy-five percent of their home planet. The required resources for rebuilding the damage built up a staggering debt, and as a result, everyone suffered. Kits today were little better than a smeet's plaything, cobbled together as best they could be with hope and a prayer.

Of course, their race wasn't well known for prayers.

The front door swung open the instant Purple had reached it, something of a blessing and a curse as he stumbled, finally unable to push himself forward, and hit the tiled floor with an ominous thud. He wheezed and supposed he should be grateful he'd taken most of the impact, himself; Red didn't need that sort of damage. Though, he was fairly certain his ribs, once cracked, now perhaps trying to puncture organs, would have been happier without the extra weight.

Raising his head, he stared blearily up at the SIR unit, which stared back at him with its odd clear-blue optics. It waved in a frantic gesture, voice high and grating. "HI!" Purple blinked once… then laid his head back on the tile.

Oh, yes, they were doomed.

/MASTER. YOU ARE REQUIRED AT THE FRONT DOOR./

The Computer tried to be responsible, he did. It was difficult when you spent every day trying to maintain control of a house filled with morons, but he'd like to think he'd managed well so far. However, currently his master, the Master's Houseguest ('Minion-Assistant'), Skoodge, and Mini-Moose were rather preoccupied. The three of them sat around a table, deep in the center of Zim's base, staring intently at the cards in their hands - or… not-hands. (The doomsday device did not have hands, but seemed to be winning.)

"Hrrn…. Zim does not have any two's…. Go fish."

/MASTER,/ Computer tried again, Zim waving him off. "Yes, yes. Let the robo-parents deal with it."

/Uhh…. I really… don't think that's a good idea, Sir… The Tallest-/

Snarling, Zim tossed down his hand of cards, Mini-Moose darting down to stare at them while Skoodge looked pointedly away." The TALLEST will receive another shipment of filthy Earth-manufactured goods on SCHEDULE. Can't you see I'm involved in VERY important business right now? And WINNING."

/No, you aren't./

"SILENCE. Zim is WINNING."

"…You ,uh…you really aren't, Zim." Skoodge offered carefully, cringing back in his chair when the shorter Irken rounded to glare at him. He had never been more grateful than when Gir burst through the door, leapt up, and slid dramatically across the table on his knees (…did Gir even have knees?) scattering cards everywhere ,before grabbing Zim's head, smashing his cheeks in, and screeching in his face. "MASTER! MASTER!"

Zim flailed desperately for a moment, before toppling backwards out of his chair and onto the floor while Gir remained stationary, left holding air. "WHAT. What is it Gir?" He spat with a growl. "WHY does EVERYONE want to interrupt me today?!"

Gir, it seemed, had decided to conduct a fan-dance with the handful of cards that had remained, while Skoodge busied himself collecting the rest from the floor, "Iiii've got no idea! BUT! BUT! Mommy and Daddy came to visit and they look just AWFUL!"

"…Eh?"

/AHEM.Master? The screen./ Computer prompted.

"Ehhh?" Zim, Skoodge, and Mini-Moose all turned to face the main video screen. Gir turned to the opposite direction, waving cheerfully at nothing.

"COMPUTER!" Zim roared again as he took off in a dead run towards the elevator, with Skoodge close behind, "Why didn't you tell me the Tallest had arrived!?"

Left alone, once again, Computer just… sighed.