FILE: [INVADER ZIM]/The-Rats-Of-NIMH…
-LOG ENTRY 10-
INFERNO:EXE.09-16-2017
"...What sort of proposition?" Zim asked slowly. His antennae stood at full attention, rigid and alert, his eyes narrowed with suspicion at the strange, commanding smaller. Mar simply gazed back impassively for a moment, before he gave a pleasant smile that didn't quite make it to his cold red eyes.
"I need something from you, Zim," Mar explained, sounding earnest and sincere. He certainly didn't look threatening. In fact, he didn't look any different from any other Irken. A little tall, maybe, but otherwise completely average. He was dressed as any civilian scientist, his garb similar to the Invaders, though the coloring was a little different. His hands were stuffed innocuously into the pockets of his starch white lab coat, his name clearly stamped across his chest, and a pair of goggles hung around his neck. But there was something about him, something about his behavior that set him apart from the others. Maybe it was his eyes, or that detached way he was smiling, but there was something about him, something unnerving that made Zim's insides squirm and recoil and writhe like worms.
"I need your help," Mar continued smoothly, and took a step forwards, his gaze never wavering. Zim swallowed reflexively, watching him warily, and held his ground. "And if you help me, I can make sure the Tallest give you anything you want."
"Why would the Control Brains leave you in charge?" Zim asked suddenly, clearly not listening. "If the Tallest can't be here...there are Irken here that are taller than you. What's an inferior worm like you doing in command?"
Mar stopped his casual advance and considered Zim for a moment. "By taller...do you mean you?" he questioned with a curious tilt of his head, a faint trace of veiled amusement lacing his soft tenor voice.
"Err...well, no, I actually meant Bob over there," Zim replied, motioning carelessly towards one of the navigators, who had at least a centimeter on Mar.
"But my name's Quark," the navigator said weakly.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Zim waved him off dismissively. "The point is you're too short. So what the frag is going on around here? Where are my Tallest?"
Mar regarded him quietly, his scrutinizing gaze sizing the other up before he gave a small nod, as if he had come to some kind of conclusion. "I'm a little surprised, Zim. You aren't as stupid as some have led me to believe."
Zim flashed him a sharp zipper-grin. "Bet you've been led to believe a lot of things," he said nastily, his grin widening when Mar's antennae flattened, and he took a menacing step forward. "Now get your brain-meats in order and tell me: where...are...my Tallest?"
"Now, now, there's no need to get so upset," Mar chuckled, and held his palms up in a placating gesture. "Your precious leaders are fine and well, I assure you."
"I think you're lying," Zim hissed, advancing another step. "So I suggest you start explaining to me what is going on before I pull your guts out through your eye sockets."
"Don't you even want to know what it is I'm offering before you start making threats?" Mar asked him mildly. He wasn't intimidated, and appeared unconcerned about the possibility of being attacked. Zim paused, studying the way the other's antennae perked up and the placement of his feet...Mar seemed relaxed, but his stance said otherwise, and Zim had had enough experience in combat to know when an opponent knew what they were doing.
"I don't think a little insect like you has anything real to offer," he retorted, his teeth snapping with mounting ferocity. His antennae jumped and twitched, augmenting his senses so that the room was suddenly sharply in focus. Colors brightened, smells intensified, and he could pick out every little whir and click and sound. On silent command, his PAK shot a charge of adrenaline into his system, and he tensed like a spring. However, the extra rush of energy had it various side-effects, as his mind jumped and tittered and steadily lapsed into old speech-patterns. The neurons in his brain began to fire faster, and the old well of energy started bubbling to the surface. "Now Zim is losing patience with your filthy lies. Where are my Tallest? Tell me!"
"I really don't think it's wise to pass up an opportunity without even hearing what it is first," Mar chided gently. "Besides, I told you, the Tallest are unharmed."
"LIES—!"
"I'm offering you something you've been wanting a long time now, more than anything in the world, I'd wager," Mar continued, as if he hadn't even heard the outburst.
"Zim said he won't—!"
"Even if it's the destruction of said world?" Mar asked archly, and if he'd had eyebrows he would have delicately cocked one at Earth's Invader. Zim froze, his hands outstretched as if to grab Mar by the throat, but they fell limply by his sides and he stood stock still, staring wide-eyed in surprise. His body quivered, and he glanced out through the shield of the Massive's observation deck to gaze tensely in the direction of Earth. Slowly, like newspaper in an inferno, all thoughts of the Tallest and of Irken Mar burned to ash in the face of a single, blazing thought: Dib. Suddenly, he realized what Mar was saying, that he was being given a chance to finally deliver a terrible and irrefutable blow to his long-standing nemesis, one that was worthy of their fight, worthy of Dib. The destruction of the boy's planet would be a victory Zim had been waiting for, yearning for...
...and would never forget, for as long as he lived.
He was quiet for nearly a full minute, breathing slowly, before he turned and, with eyes thin and mean and full of manic exhilaration, looked at Mar.
"I accept."
[...accessing...]
On Earth, people ran screaming through the streets. The road was clogged with countless fender-benders and cars fighting to leave the cities, as if that would do them any good. On the telly, reporters from every news channel were shouting frantically into their microphones as behind them people were pointing and staring up in awe. The camera swung towards the sky, where thousands upon thousands of Irken battle cruisers hung immobile and utterly silent, each one stationed exactly every one hundred miles in every direction.
All over the world.
Dib had never seen a Viral Tank before, and while they weren't as big as the Massive, they were certainly enormous (and numerous) enough so that just one, let alone thousands, could easily send the planet into an immediate and full-blown terror.
Don't panic, Dib told himself, and tried to breathe slowly. Inhale through his nose, exhale through his mouth, rinse, lather, and repeat. Gaz didn't seem to be having any trouble, and glared impassively up at the deadly war-ships drifting past them as if they were nothing more than harmless, fluffy clouds. Clouds with death-rays, but clouds nonetheless.
"You really think this plan of yours is going to work?" she asked mildly, her tone clearly skeptical, but she didn't appear concerned.
"I'm beginning to have my doubts," Dib replied faintly. "I didn't expect there to be so many...I'm sure I heard Zim's computer say there were only three."
"Obviously, they decided to call in reinforcements," Gaz said flatly. "So, any bright ideas, oh fearless leader?"
"We stick to the plan," Dib said stoically. "If we can take out the Massive, the other ships might, I don't know...give up?"
"...This plan is stupid," Gaz told him, and leveled a hooded gray glare in his direction.
"Well, it's all we've got right now," Dib sighed. He looked over Gaz's head to where the Massive pretty much sat right next to them (where they were currently parked on the moon), hanging silent and baneful and mind-bogglingly big. It looked very indestructible. Honestly, something that hugely, vastly, ginormously colossal shouldn't be allowed to exist. Seriously, it was the size of, like, twenty humpback whales combined together.
"You ready?" he asked, reflexively seizing a hold of the controls.
"Whatever," said Gaz with a small toss of her head. Dib glanced surreptitiously down at her hands, where they were clenched so tightly around her GameSlave2 that her knuckles were turning white.
"Okay," he said, revving the engine and launching straight up—
"GREETINGS, LOWLY PEOPLE OF EARTH."
The Spittle Runner lurched and nearly ran into the moon when Dib jerked back on the stick, yelping in surprise as a cold, disinterested, unknown voice boomed out through the Spittle Runner's radio speakers.
Dib squawked, fighting to get the ship under control, when the transmission monitor crackled to life, and he jumped when he recognized the all too familiar face. Zim grinned viciously back at him, his zipper-teeth bared in feral glee and his sharp slitted eyes glinting with giddy malice.
"Hello, Dib-stink," Zim intoned dangerously, his low voice charged with manic triumph, feverish red eyes brightly burning. His taunting smile quirked up and he arched a cocky brow. "Does the little worm-baby wanna come out and play?"
"Gladly," Dib snarled, matching Zim's grin with a savage one of his own, amber eyes sparking with wild fury and blood-lust abandon. He sensed a fight, and his blood was suddenly singing through his veins, setting his heart on fire. "Bring it on, alien freak."
"Excellent," the Irken hissed. "Zim will be waiting for you."
And the transmission abruptly cut out.
[...accessing...]
"GREETINGS, LOWLY PEOPLE OF EARTH." boomed a voice from every speaker from every battle ship from every point all across the planet. The people currently running and screaming and panicking in general came to a surprised stop and looked around abject terror. There was a minute or two of silence, utter and complete silence, as the world cowered and collectively held its breath. And then...
"THIS IS THE IRKEN ARMADA," said the voice, in a clipped and professional way, but it was very clear that it was bored and deemed addressing the denizens of Earth to be beneath it. "ONE CYCLE AGO, OR APPROXIMATELY TEN OF YOUR EARTH YEARS, WE SENT AN AGENT TO YOUR WORLD TO DETERMINE IF YOUR RACE WAS SUITABLE FOR CONQUEST EITHER BY ASSIMILATION, ENSLAVEMENT, OR DESTRUCTION. UNFORTUNATELY, WE HAVE DEEMED YOUR PEOPLE TO BE UNFIT FOR ANYTHING BUT IMMEDIATE TERMINATION. PLEASE STAND BY FOR YOUR IMMINENT DEMISE. THANK YOU, AND HAVE A PLEASANT DAY."
There was a click as the speakers shut off, and the voice cut out, to be instantly bombarded with a world-wide cacophony of noise as every person on the planet screamed objection.
"NOW THERE'S NO NEED TO GET SO UPSET!" the voice snapped irritably as the speakers were harshly switched back on. "ACCORDING TO OUR AGENT, YOU ARE A VIOLENT, UNINTELLIGENT SPECIES THAT PREFERS TO WALLOW IN ITS OWN FILTH AND MAKE WAR RATHER THAN ATTEMPT TO BETTER YOURSELVES OR THE UNIVERSE IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM. YOU HAVE POLLUTED YOUR PLANET BEYOND ALL USE AND RECOGNITION, TO THE POINT THAT WE WILL BE FORCED TO OBLITERATE IT ALONG WITH YOUR PATHETIC EXISTENCE. GIVEN THE EVIDENCE AGAINST YOU, I STRONGLY BELIEVE WE ARE DOING YOU A FAVOR."
The Earth resounded with the concerted shrieking of every human being alive, and the voice gave a tiresome sigh. But apparently, some scientist somewhere was able to get a message back to the invading force, obviously pleading for mercy, to which the agitated voice replied with:
"NO, I'M AFRAID WE WILL NOT RECONSIDER. FOR IRK'S SAKE, YOU HAVEN'T EVEN DISCOVERED INTERSTELLAR TRAVEL YET! OTHERWISE YOU WOULD HAVE HEARD OF US SOONER AND GOTTEN YOUR ACT TOGETHER. WE'VE HAD NOTICE POSTED IN THE OMEGA QUADRANT FOR YEARS."
There was a brief pause as whoever it was argued plaintively.
"WELL, YOU SHOULD HAVE TRIED HARDER," said the voice primly. "REALLY, I'VE NO SYMPATHY AT ALL—"
It was about that time that the speaker was suddenly interrupted by a spectacular explosion, so big and so bright it could be seen all the way out in space. There was a lot of screaming and shrieking on the other end of the line, before the transmission abruptly cut off. About half of civilization sent up a combined cheer of gratitude, while the other less stupid half remained crouched under their tables and waited to see what would happen next.
[...accessing...]
"Really, I've no sympathy at all—" Mar was saying unsympathetically when suddenly the Massive pitched wildly into several nearby vessels. The dull thud of distant explosions shuddered throughout the ship, and it groaned as flexiplastic cracked and ceramic girders twisted until they snapped. Mar grabbed the console as the entire ship listed onto its side, screeching Irkens scrabbling for purchase as they tumbled past him. Calmly, he switched off the transmission and glanced around in confused vexation.
"What on Irk is going on?" he demanded, sounding extremely put out. Zim had seized a hold of a nearby Irken, who was clinging desperately to one of the chairs, and hauled himself up the unfortunate insectoid's body. Growling irritably, he kicked the Irken away and climbed into the chair, positioning himself so that he was crouched atop of what would have normally been the backrest had the Massive been upright.
"Dib," he answered simply, his voice light and airy. But he was practically thrumming with excitement, his garnet eyes glowing eagerly and his antennae quivering in anxious anticipation. "I believe he's here, now."
"T-Taller Mar!" shouted one of the Irken.
"What happened?" Mar called.
"Something hit us, sir!" the Irken cried.
"Well, that's pretty fragging obvious, isn't it?" Zim retorted derisively. "Can any of you useless navigation-drones tell us what on Irk it was?"
"I...I don't..." the panicking Irken started, but the sentence died in his throat when what looked like an enormous goat's horn floated past the observation deck, pieces of debris crumbling off and spinning away as it bumped gently into the flexiplastic window with a jarring force that sent a spider-web of cracks racing across the surface. Zim activated his PAK's atmospheric processor in case it shattered completely, flinching slightly at the tingle that jolted through his antennae as the invisible space-helmet settled over his head. He squinted for a moment at the bizarre object floating before him, before his eyes suddenly lit up with recognition and a happy grin spread across his features.
"Oh, Dib-worm, very clever," he sneered to himself. The 'goat horn' was actually a large chunk of his Transport Station, which originally had been designed in the shape of a crescent moon. Dib had obviously been able to commandeer the entire spacial outpost and had crashed it directly into the Massive. Since the craft was Irken in design, it hadn't shown up on any of the monitors as a threat, and of course no one had expected it to run right into them. Zim was rather impressed, though he was loathed to admit it.
As an adversary, Dib never let him down.
[...accessing...]
"Brace yourself!" Dib screamed, gripping the controls of the Spittle Runner for dear life as the Massive loomed impossibly larger and larger in the window of the observation deck of Zim's space station. And then there was a resounding, horrible, deafening noise that punched in through his ears and six feet into his skull as the station slammed into the side of the Irken war ship with enough force to throw the Runner back with a wave of sheer pressure. The floor of Zim's orbital base buckled and crunched, and Dib threw the Runner into full throttle, frantically dodging flying debris as he gunned for the gaping hole in the Massive's side, straight towards an explosive inferno as the two vessels collapsed into one another. It was like watching two very big monster trucks—like, the-size-of-a-couple-of-moons big—crash into each other headlong...only he was watching from the inside, and trying very hard not to die.
The sound in itself was mind-blowing, and almost did blow out his ear-drums. Screaming metal, twisting ceramic, shattering glass. And then the roar of fire as they flew directly into the conflagration, their little ship shuddering as it was knocked about by several nearby explosions. Dib's breath came in short, gasping bursts, and his heart thudded wildly in his chest and attempted to crawl out through his windpipe when all he could see were flames—
And then all at once they were clear and this close to hitting a wall.
"Look out!" Gaz shouted, reached over, and wrenched the control stick as hard as she could. The Spittle Runner spun crazily, just barely avoiding smashing itself to pieces, before Dib was able to correct it—and then they were hurtling down a corridor past injured or dead Irken, bashing through doors and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.
After what had seemed like an eternity of traversing hallways and back-tracking and on occasion demanding directions from a very surprised alien, but was really only about ten minutes, Dib finally came to an imposing, impassable steel door that must have stood at least thirty feet tall and fifteen wide. It was shut tight.
No problem, he thought savagely, and without even slowing down he activated the modified gun-turrets mounted haphazardly onto the sides of the Spittle Runner and blasted a smoldering hole right in the middle of the whole thing. They shot through the smoke and hit the floor in a shower of sparks, skidding for fifteen feet—metal screeching on metal—before they hit a wall hard and came to a jarring and abrupt stop.
Dib sat there for a moment, panting heavily and willing his heart back under control...and then he reached up and gently patted the dash. After he'd managed to erase all personality programs from the little ship, it had proven to be extremely useful, having lived through countless space battles with Zim, several trips to neighboring planets, as well as carting him to and from classes every weekend back in the Academy. He loved the old thing to pieces, and silently thanked the stars it had survived this, as well.
"So...any thoughts on how to handle them?" Gaz asked. Dib blinked and looked around at the fifty or so Irkens slowly advancing on their ship.
"Yeah," he said, and punched a button. The cockpit slid open with a soft hiss, and he jumped out—wobbling slightly since his legs had become the consistency of wet noodles—but he shook it off and strode purposefully forward. Flashing his detective's badge, he pulled a Plasmar Neuron Blaster 9000 out from under the seat, and announced in an authoritative voice, "This is the police! You are hereby all under arrest for acts of terrorism and attempting to destroy the Earth! Put your mother-fuckin' hands behind your mother-fuckin' heads, bend over and kiss your freaky alien butts goodbye!"
[…Please Wait While The File Loads…]
THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, its characters, or affiliated ideas. More or less all rights belong to Mr. V.
Well, my muse is still alive and kicking on this story. Hooray! I liked writing this chapter. Lots of action here. The scene where Dib crashed Zim's space station into the Massive was particularly delicious. The part where Mar is speaking to the humans is a scene based off a similar-type conversation the Vogons in Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, when they were explaining to Earth about their intention to destroy it in order to erect an interstellar bypass. So props to Douglas Adams.
I'm having a little trouble with Zim, though. I love his insane nature, but it kind of clashes with the more serious theme this story is starting to lean towards. I can explain it away with the loss of caffeine, but I miss his little outbursts. So I think I'm going to make it where he only gets all crazy whenever he's really angry or upset. I hope I made that clear in the story.
Can't think of anything else,
Raha