ON RESEARCH PLANET NINE

As he threw the meager bag of belongings onto his desk, Dib tugged at it's zipper and dug inside. Amongst his field notes, his papers, his books, anything and everything to keep him company on a short, two day flight, buried far at the bottom was something the shape of a smeet's toy.

"Dib! Hurry up now! I have things to attend to!"

Dib glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm coming!" He'd worked hard to keep the object out of view as he pulled it gingerly, halfway out. It was wrapped in cloth several times around, and he unpeeled it slightly to insure the object, precious and delicate, looked as fine as it had the night before, when he'd swiped it from Head Scientist's Membrane's lab… Even the biting anxiety he'd felt then remained, just a sharp as when he'd done it.

What Membrane didn't know wouldn't hurt him, would it? But he'd be furious if he learned… The item was in fine condition, he realized with anxious relief. He'd packed tools as well to work on the device. Dib crammed it back into his bag when he heard his name for the third time, slinging his bag over his shoulder hastily. It didn't matter, because he'd be at Devastis by the day after next anyway. And soon after that, Head Scientist Membrane wouldn't see him as such a troublesome apprentice anymore - Dib would have been proven right all along.

He darted out of the apprentice's quarters. He skittered down the labs long corridor and into the labs where, in a wide, spansive room, dark with only one light shining down on the head scientist, Dib came to a skidding stop behind a figure bent over a table at work. "I'm sorry, sir, I was-"

"Do you have all of your field notes?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Your books, your clothes, your tools, that little Vortian toy you've had since you were a smeet?"

"Yes si- wait, I haven't had that toy for decades now!" Dib pouted, slumping his shoulders. Membrane, bent over a work table, finally turned to face him.

"Ahh, yes, I am only teasing you," He patted the top of his head, a condescending gesture Dib couldn't hate entirely. He leaned down, examining Dib. He was quite tall, the tallest scientist in the lab, and although that made him Head Scientist, Dib felt his smarts would've gotten him that title anyway; he was the brightest scientist Irk had to offer. "Are these all in order here?" He asked, referring to the blue goggles around Dib's head.

"Yes sir. And I have another pair in my bag."

"Very good. I believe I sent orders for you to be to kept out of combat, but remember, if you are attacked, there is no shame in hiding,"

"I wouldn't hide from an enemy, sir," Dib said, furrowing his brow. "I have training you know," He'd trained the same allotted years as most other Irken's, although when the decision was to be made if he'd become an Invader, a hardened soldier, a scientist, or anything else, he'd ran for the scientist option. He could fight and he knew he could've been a great Invader, too, but research, lab work, all of that just intrigued him so much more. And the empire was considering sending scientists out with Invader's to probe and research alien planets before they were conquered, to better prepare both the empire and the Invaders for what awaited them. Dib was eagerly awaiting the day that decision was made; to be held to such high glory as a Invader was a title Dib longed for.

"Of course you do, Dib. But, you must be careful. You can't afford for them to become cracked while others are around. Now," Membrane rose up , standing just a few inches short of being a Tallest himself. This fact, this potential loss of power did not seem to bother him in the slightest, He spent so much time in the labs, nearly all of it, and hated to be dragged away from it. Usually, he found ways of having other's appearing in his place for meetings and such. Dib had done this before, though Membrane preferred to send out his hatchling mate and fellow assistant Gaz. "Where is our little escorting friend? Ah, I believe the time she might appear shall be coming soon,"

"When will you be leaving, sir?"

"Oh, tonight. I'll see the lab's final experiments taken away someplace safe, to ensure everything's where it should be before the lockdown." He gazed about the room. The lab felt a bit eerie so empty, although Dib had spent very late hours here wit the head scientist, watching over his shoulder as he worked, running back and forth with tools, vials, and droppers for him. The lockdown and subsequent evacuations had been called in the wake of Resisty trouble on the planets moon, where explosive and massive weapon prototypes were experimented with. Several things had been stolen and plenty of Irken machinery had been vandalized. But that wasn't the reason for an entire evacuation; one of the head scientists from the labs had been murdered amongst his assistants. The Tallest's had ordered the evacuation of Research 9's most important equipment, as well as of all it's brightest occupants. In the meantime, it would briefly become a battleground for the Resisty fighters bound to appear. "But, in the meantime, bring me that there alien splicer from the cabinet! There is still work to be done while we wait!"

"Yes sir!" Dib rushed off.

PLANET CONVENTIA

When the Tallest's had encountered Zim in the first Great Assigning, they'd be shocked. Exiled to Foodcourtia, they'd hoped the traffic there would keep him infinitely busy. His determination to please his higher ups would translate to appeasing his fry-lord manager, Sizz-Lorr. Sending Zim to Foodcourtia had been like sending off a feral, rapid pet to be exterminated - except without the nostalgic sadness of what once was. Zim was never once helpful, never once a great Irken. His potential as a scientist, as an Invader, as a soldier, as anything was squashed by his unchecked ego and mania. Red and Purple had been greatly relieved and glad to be done with him… Until he'd come back.

They'd decided to try and use his presence for entertainment; they gave him a ruined SIR unit and random janitorial tasks around Conventia with the promise of something greater awaiting him. Of course, there'd been no such thing and they'd hope he'd either fuck up so badly he'd, 1) get himself killed, or 2) get himself exiled by someone else, but neither happened (as with Zim, nothing seemed to run in anyone's favor). As the other Invader's had completed their missions and the canon sweeps had all been completed, the Second Great Assigning was held. Zim had re-appeared with a mop and his SIR unit, who kept running circles around Red and Purple's skirts and tried to climb under them. They'd promised him the same empty promise again; a secret, nonexistent mission. But this time, he hadn't been satiated. That had been the night before. Red had known what needed to be done now.

"You know, we should just keep a slurpee machine in here," Purple was saying from his couch, spinning his drink in his hand, the straw whirling. "It'd be so much easier and we wouldn't have to wait for Bob to show up everytime. He takes forever."

"Mm." Red wasn't really listening. A knock came to the door and he called for whoever to enter.

"My Tallest," A guard stepped into the room, wigging his antennae in salute. "The Irken Zim is here as you requested. Will that be all?"

"Have at least eight guards at the ready outside. I'll call for you when we need you,"

"Of course, my Tallest."

"Only eight guards?" Purple looked wary as the guard stepped out of the room. "It could take more than that with him,"

"We'll see," said Red, as the door opened a second time. Chest out, shoulders back, former Invader Zim strode proudly into the room, saluting stiffly. It seemed when he made his presence known the environment seemed to darken, foreboding some stupid, pitiful disaster. The doors closed with a clang behind him. Purple sipped at his drink loudly, the cup nearly empty.

"I've come as you've asked of me, my Tallest," Zim was smiling, his confidence overbright. Red almost scowled. Purple seemed to barely notice him, watching him through half mast eyes.

"Oh, yeah, we called for Zim. That was quick."

"Yes, well, I happened to be just outside," Zim said and Purple raised a brow in suspicion. "What is it you'd have of me, my Tallest?"

Red drew forward, feigning a polite smile. "We understand you've been awaiting your mission, Zim."

"Oh yes," Zim grinned, looking devious. "My secret mission. I am eager to please both of you, as you can imagine,"

"Yes, well," Red glanced at Purple, who rolled his eyes. This should be good. "To be honest with you Zim, we've decided it would best for your Invader training if you returned to Foodcourtia. Forever." He expected a scene. Disbelief and shock.

"Yess, I thought you'd say that,"

"Did you now?" Purple blinked at him. "Do you hear that Red? He knew we were gonna send him back to Foodcourtia," Red stared in bored surprise. How like Zim to come with unexpected news. Of course, Red had anticipated this as well.

"Yes sirs, but I've come with an even better idea. Allow me to explain," A PAK leg was extending to bring him a tablet when Red interrupted.

"No, I think what we've decided would be best, Zim. You are the only invader with any experience uh, frying… Things. Doesn't that make you proud? And to continue your training alone, it would be-"

"Yes but that is hardly a mission, my Tallest!" Zim spoke very matter of factly, his tablet in his hands now, "I have been awaiting the secret mission you've promised me for over a year now, but I understand you need me to prove my abilities to you sooner. Which I understand! Only \the best should be given such vital, secret missions, and if you must know my prowess, then so be it-"

"What prowess, Zim? What could you possibly prove to us now, after everything?" Red demanded, narrowing his eyes. A look of discomfort flooded into Zim's face, finally breaking that irritating confidence. He looked aside, antenna falling backwards just an inch.

"Ah, well-"

"No, no Zim, we are not interested in hearing it. You quit your exile without permission. You realize that's not allowed, right?"

"Just tell him he's being exiled again!" Purple called from behind Red. Zim stared at both of them in wide-eyed horror; it was almost comical. Any mention of well deserved punishment and Zim looked the face of an innocent Irken - sort of. He was just always so surprised.

"You can't be considering exiling me again..!? I haven't even done anything this time! And last time had been stupid, I did well in Impending Doom one! I-"

"You've been putting alien slime in the sporchy pudding for the last three months here!" Purple cried. "Slime! Do you know how many Irken's have gotten sick? Do you?!"

Red ignored Purple, raising his hand, speaking lowly, "It's true you've been quite the menace on Conventia since you came here, Zim, but I might chalk that up to a fault of our own for keeping you here so long. I'll have you remember, however, that your exile has yet to be officially called off, by us," he placed a claw against his chest, glaring at Zim, "you aren't being exiled again, you are simply being returned to where you belong,"

"But, my Tallest," Zim drew his tablet close to himself as though for defense. "You two didn't expect me to miss out on a great assigning, did you?"

"Yes," said Purple plainly, "those were your orders. You weren't invited,"

"Orrr my invitation just got lost in the mail?"

"No, Zim. You weren't invited." Red had said it before at the first Great Assigning, he'd said it plenty more times since, and Irk was he sick of it, of Zim, of repeating such basic information. Any other Irken would follow obediently. Zim's obedience came with deadly fine print. "Regardless, we have guards to take you back, so you can go with pride, Zim, like the Irken soldier you sort of are, or you can-"

"But that's just it! Zim is not a soldier, I'm an Invader! This isn't a mission, this is just- just exile!"

"Yes, Zim, that's what it's been all along!" Red shouted. "How moronic are you?! Guards!" The doors behind Zim flew open and Zim whirled, watching, horrified. "Please, take him away. We've had enough," Two of the guards drew forward, grabbed Zim by his thin arms. Zim struggled, looking furious, hurt, and betrayed all at once.

"Return him to Foodcourtia," Red said, "And ensure he remains there. Zim, you're lucky this isn't a trial. Otherwise things might not be going so well for you," He turned away, the matter finally finished with. Oh, to send Zim out with a tracking collar that would blow him up if he even tried to step away from the grill… Perhaps Red would have that commissioned and sent to Sizz-Lorr for Zim arrived. The fry cook would need help sending him there. Or let him try to escape again and allow the Control Brains to decide his fate… Yes, that was a clever idea as well, and no doubt Zim would successfully escape a third time. By then the Control Brains would determine his functionality as an Irken. Perhaps they'd deem him defective. Red had had his suspicions since they were young, but to accuse another Irken of such a thing was heavy stuff.

Meanwhile, Zim squirmed out of their grasp, rushing forwards. Purple watched faintly interested from the couch, still sucking on his drink loudly.

"But My tallest this can't-"

Red spun, teeth bared, "Enough, Zim!" His voice rose steadily as he drew forward, pointing to Zim, who shrank. "You've always thought this was some little game, haven't you? You have been nothing but trouble for the empire since you were born! You're a parasite! You are not an Invader, you have never truly been an Invader, and you never will be an Invader! And would you QUIT BEING SO LOUD WITH THAT DRINK!" Red whirled to Purple and slapped the drink out of his hands. It flew, rolling over and leaking what meager contents remained.

"Hey," Purple whined, "I wasn't done with that yet!"

"Now take him out of my- where'd he go?" Red stopped short; the guards glanced around, confused.

The tiny Irken was nowhere to be seen.

Already far down the hall, Zim was scrambling as fast he could in the direction of the hangars. Just his fucking luck to have such a simple request shot down with an arrest! Geez, the Tallest's could be so blind! Red's words might've wracked his brain had Zim not been so distracted with escape. One PAK leg flew out and held out a communication device.

"Gir! Gir, answer me!"

"Yeeeesss?" Gir came a moment later on the other end. Zim opened his mouth but a red light flashed above him, the intercom springing on.

"Attention all IRKENS. The Irken Elite Zim is to be apprehended on sight. I repeat, the Ikren-"

"Hey! That's you Master!"

"Prepare the ship for take off, right now! Start the engine and make sure we aren't docked! We're leaving! Do you understand me!"

"No!" Gir cried, and hung up. Zim cursed and continued down the hall. The severity of the situation raged within him; how big were the consequences so his actions right now? How terrible would it be for him if he climbed into his voot and went on Tenn's mission right now? He wasn't sure, and so he tossed that concern out the window; for the time being, at least. He came to the hallway where the cafeteria doors were. At the last second, the doors flew open and Zim crashed splat into them, crushing his face.

"Oh-! Oh, hey there Zim!" Skoodge appeared on the other side of the door, bending forward to help Zim up. "I'm so sorry, had I known you'd be running from the authorities I might've tried to open the door slower. You alright?"

Zim gripped his face between two gloved claws as he allowed Skoodge to lift him up.

"NO, I am not alright! Now get outta my way!" Just as he was trying to squirm away from Skoodge and dart down the hall, Tenn stepped out of the cafeteria, too. Upon seeing him, she grinned a slimey grin, placed hands on her hips. Zim nearly snarled in irritation.

"How's that secret mission going Zim?" She asked.

"You shut up! You planned all of this, didn't you?" One hand still held his face, the other pointed wildly at her.

"Planned it? Pff, no, but I wish I'd been that-"

"DIDN'T YOU?!"

"I said NO, dumbass!"

"H-hey now," Skoodge spoke between them, "let's-"

"There he is!" A voice at the end of the hall behind Tenn and Skoodge made them jump, and Zim startled, stumbling backwards. He glared at Tenn as he got to his feet, a wicked grin spreading into his mouth.

"Whatever! Good luck on your mission, Tenn! That is, if I don't complete it before you!" Zim shouted as he ran. Tenn's shit-eating grin quickly withered.

"What did you say?" She shouted shrilly after him, and finally a spike of determination, of some sort of triumphant flooded through him. Yes, he could do this,he could flee, because he needed to prove Tenn wrong, he needed to prove them all wrong. Zim didn't' realize he was laughing, nearly out of breath as he ran. A sort of panic switch had flipped on within him. He threw open the doors to one of Conventia's main halls, stumbling into the front entrance of the building. What little of the sun had been out was now nearly gone, and the sky was a deep, surpy purple and black. The cool night air struck his skin. His blood was thrumming wildly within in him, his breath came in quick gasps. As a soldier, moments of escape weren't new to him. He would be lying if he thought he didn't somewhat enjoy the ride, but amongst his excitement, terror was mixed in there, too. He couldn't let them drag him back to Foodcourtia. Not when he had so much to prove to them, not when he was so unworthy of such a punishment. Zim ran forward, shoving aliens walking home or to their duties aside as he found a crowd deeper down the street, towards the heart of the city. In the air, ships flew to and fro, and not far ahead, the hangars loomed, tall and busy with air traffic. Zim grinned and ran faster. Behind him, a shrill voice rang out.

"ZIIM! GET BACK HERE OR I'LL CLAW YOUR GUTS OUT!" Zim threw a look over his shoulder in time to see Tenn, scrambling across the crowd on PAK legs, eyes furious and mouth twisted into a snarl. She was faster than the bumbling Irken guards in their heavy armor and spears, and PAK legs only made her quicker. Zim wound through the crowd, ducking and sliding beneath taller and wider aliens; he would never admit it but perhaps his miniscule height did come in handy sometimes. He darted through the crowd, the familiar sound of clicking PAK legs following close behind. He was rushing towards an alleyway when a sudden bright ,green blast erupted at his left, just beside his foot. He nearly lost his balanced, his wn PAK legs activating on extinct to hurl him just a step out of the way. He kept running, but spun to see behind him as he did; Tenn, held above the crowd still clicked towards him, plasma gun in her right hand. She aimed it again and Zim doged the next, lethal shot, just barely.

The alleyway ahead of blocked with random massive garbage bins and abandoned trash. A ruined cruiser was gathering dust in the middle of the path ahead, a tiny home for alien vermin. Mentally, Zim went over everything he knew about Tenn, in regards to combat. Although they might not have trained together, he knew she'd even outdone Larb in the academy. She'd been one of the last to conquer her planet, but he did have to admit that Meekrob had been a special case with their involvement with the Resisty in mind. She'd been given her mission due to her superior use of disguises and espionage, plus her abilities on the battlefield. In Impending Doom One, before it's sudden end, she hadn't piloted any mechas or ships. She'd been on the ground. As Zim considered this fact, still running, about to hurl himself over the crashed ship ahead, a PAK leg wrapped expertly around his right leg. Not a split second later he was being wrenched back, flying through the ar before he struck a wall, hard.

His own PAK legs scratched against hers, and an end caught on her cheek, tearing the skin. A long line of magenta blood slipped from it and caught on her top lip as one of his PAK legs found a plasma gun to aim at her, just as she aimed hers. They stood that way, gasping, her just a foot lower than him as she held him up against the wall, he still grappling with her PAK legs; their guns aimed at each other's faces.

"You…. Annoying little… Fuck," she hissed between breaths.

"You can't kill me," Zim growled, "you'll lose… Your Invader status, and… your mission…!"

"You can't kill me either," he considered telling her he wasn't an Invader, he was a food service drone, but he kept that back considered it was less of a comeback and more of a further insult.

"If you take this mission, the Tallest's will be furious. They'll send people after you. I'll go after you, Zim. Turn yourself in, and it'll go easier-"

"Never! You put it in the Tallest's head to keep me from my secret mission! Who's to say it wasn't you who stole this from me in the first place!"

"I've stolen nothing from you, Zim! Don't you understand, you never had a secret mission! The Tallest were just keeping you here so they didn't have to worry about you fucking up whatever mission they could give you!" Zim might've shouted back, fury building up within in him so that he might've burst. But from the left something hard and squeaky struck Tenn's head, and it surprised her enough to make her loosen her grasp, stumble just a step to the side. Zim took the moment to unwind himself from her PAK legs and he sprung away, darting towards the crashed cruiser where, atop it, stood-

"Must defend my Master!" Gir's eyes were bright red and he was preparing to hurdle not an explosive or anything truly useful, but another alien rat-thing.

"Gir! What are you doing here!" Zim hissed, grabbing Gir by the middle, hooking him under his arm as he leapt over the crashed ship. His boots struck the hard ground on the other side and he ran. Gir's eyes faded back to cyan and he looked up at Zim from where he hung limp.

"Look what I found! He's dirty!" Gir held up in one hand his alien vermin, a rat like creature with purple fur and big, bulging yellow eyes. Perhaps he'd unintentionally sent out a distress signal to Gir? Or maybe Gir had gotten bored and simply come to find him. Just in time, then. Behind him, Tenn was scrambling after him again, shooting, but he'd gotten enough of a head start as he threw himself out of the alleyway and back into another crowd, the hangar close now. Activating his PAK legs, Gir still hooked beneath him, he ran faster.

His ship was haphazardly parked between two much larger cruisers of the same model. Zim didn't have the monies or proper identification to receive new, better upgrades to his cruiser, something he'd been in dire need of since he'd technically stolen his ship from Foodcourtia when he'd left. The windshield flew up on his voice command, and he let go of Gir who crawled into the pilots seat. Zim hoped in after him, letting it shut loudly.

"Alright, good work Gir!" The ship was already alive and running, as he'd asked of him. He worked frantically at the dashboard, opening a map and radar. "We finally have our mission now,"

"Yaaay!" Gir chimed beside him, clapping. He put the alien-rat into the compartment in his head, smiling gleefully.

"Computer! Download mission information from my tablet!" He commanded. The computer obliged, the words DOWNLOADING appearing on the windshield until it completed. "What are the coordinates we're being sent to?"

"Research Planet Nine, sir,"

"And the package, what package, what are we escorting?"

"Package?" The computer repeated dully. "Not a package, sir. Irken Assistant to Head Scientist Membrane, Dib, is to be escorted to Planet Devastis."

"Dib? Who is this 'Dib'?" Zim leaned forward suspiciously.

"Master, your friends are here!" Gir said gleefully behind him. Zim jerked his head around in time to see Tenn. Just second later, a group of guards, more than before had appeared, armed and angry, shouting. Within the ship, he could just barely hear the commotion of it. Overhead, within the hangar, an alarm had begun to blare. The hangar's entrance, gaping mouth that looked out into space above, was beginning to close. Zim hissed in panic.

"Nevermind! Take us to the Dib now!" The coordinates were set instantly and Zim gripped the ships toggles urging it forward. It crashed first into the parking marker in front of him, jerking them about, before it backed wildly up, wavering into the air. He barely missed another leaving ship as he rushed for the exit. He thought, distantly, of when he'd fled Foodcourtia for the first time; Sizz-Lorr had, of course, been furious, sent several ships after him. He'd nearly not made it, just as he did now; narrowly, as the exit ahead grew smaller and smaller, Zim leaned forward, gritting his teeth. Behind him, Gir was riled up, laughing and screaming all at once, gripping his arm and shaking him wildly. Come on, COME ON! Couldn't the damn ship go any faster?! If they weren't quick enough, they'd-

They shot through the exit, just as it grew an inch too small for them, hurtling them ahead into the atmosphere. Zim laughed, half crazed, and Gir shrieked, perhaps unaware they'd made it. On the radar, Research Planet Nine blinked, hardly two hours ahead of them.