Hey guys. First off I would like to say I love your continued support.

I love every bit of it and it really makes my day.

Second off, I would like to say there is a difference between support and harassment.

I'm not pointing any fingers here, I've got plenty of people doing this, but please, please PLEASE stop reviewing and PMing me (especially PMing) with UPDATE PLEASE and nothing else.

Please stop spamming my inbox.

I get it, waiting for a new chapter sucks and I'm thrilled that you like my story enough to be excited when I update and I am so grateful you want to keep reading as soon as you can.

Here's the thing though, I love this story as much as you do, but I have other obligations to fulfill.

I don't get paid for this and, while I try to update as much as I can, hearing nothing but 'more now' gets a little tiring.

I would love to hear your thoughts, opinions, questions, whatever! Heck, I'd even love to hear random stories about your lives and how you just got a dog/cat/whatever. Just so long as I know that you know there is a person over here, pouring her soul into these words, and you appreciate it enough to treat me with respect.

What I'm asking is not that you stop requesting I update, heck sometimes I need the kick in the butt and there are plenty of you who have made update requests pleasantly, even hilariously. What I'm asking is that when or if you do it, to treat me like a person rather than your personal source of amusement.

I love this story, I love writing it and I love all of you, but please be clear that I DON'T have an obligation to anyone else but me and I actually don't have to finish this story at your insistent requests or at all. Period.

I fully plan to complete this story because I love it, but if I'm made to feel like it's a chore rather than fun, I'm sorry but I'll stop. I don't need any more stress in my life. I just need to put that out there because I LOVE writing this and I don't want it to be taken away.

Also, since I'm ranting to whoever sent me that weird link (you know who you are) please don't. I'm a broke-ass college kid and I don't need a virus on my already jank computer, ok?

Anyway, I'm sorry if this comes off as mean/rude/whatever.

Truly I am so, so, SO grateful for all the love and support I get here. I just had to get this off my chest because the frequency where I get these non-constructive PM demands has become rather alarming and, honestly, between fulltime work and fulltime school it can be a little daunting to feel like I'm forcing myself to write because someone's been harassing me.

Sorry this got so serious and so wordy out of nowhere.

Again, to all my viewers, thank you all so much for your continued support! I don't know what I would do with out you guys!

Now, with my little rant out of the way let's get on to the show!

"What's a linket?" Dib asked, his voice carefully neutral.

He'd arrived at Rec Room 4 early, correctly guessing that Zim himself would be there when he arrived and he sidled up next to the Irken, awkwardly copying the graceful stretches the alien was leading himself through as a warmup.

The particular item the human was asking about was an allergen listed in Lard Nar's med file and although he asked out of curiosity, he mostly asked as an icebreaker to let Zim know he'd received it and appreciated it. He didn't say thanks because he was certain that, unless you were a cheesy bandit in the Wild West, this kind of under the table deal wasn't something you thanked someone for; you just nodded, macho-like.

Dib also still felt a bit guilty for invading the Vortian's privacy. Not guilty enough he wouldn't read the med file of course but… thanking Zim for essentially conspiring against the Captain, how ever tiny, felt mutinous and wrong.

Something told him this wasn't part of the friendship quid-pro-quo.

Zim, who was currently in the middle of showing how insanely flexible he was, looked up from his splits to glare at Dib. He was clearly not happy to have his warm-up interrupted. "Training doesn't start for another 30 minutes." He said instead of answering and Dib shrugged.

"Well, it's not like I had anywhere else to be." He replied cheerfully in an attempt to not let the Irken know how painful trying to touch his toes was.

Man he was out of shape.

Zim's brow furrowed and he pulled himself to his feet and began to stretch out his arms, "Fine. Don't mess up my warm-up with your stoopid questions then."

Dib frowned and struggled to his feet as well, copying Zim's arm stretch, "Oh come on, it's not like this is rigorous activity. Can't we just talk?"

"Sure." Zim said sweetly, stretching his quad, "Let's talk about your decision."

Dib went quiet and it wasn't because he was having a hell of a time balancing. He waited until they moved onto another stretch before he broke the silence, silently huffing, "rude" under his breath.

They spent a few seconds in awkward silence, Dib copying Zim's stretches and showing no indication of leaving or warming up somewhere else. Zim rolled his eyes and said, "A linket is a Vortian berry typically dried and used as a disgusting sort of spice. If this is your way of showing you received the… item I left for you, save it. We made a deal and Zim is not a filthy liar so of course I followed through."

Dib blushed scarlet, secretly glad his current leg stretch forced him to face down and hide his face. How did Zim figure that out so quickly? He wasn't being sneaky about it, sure, but really? He couldn't just happen to be curious about the berry that Lard Nar just happened to be deathly allergic to?

As if sensing the human's exact thoughts, Zim continued his tiny tirade with, "By the way, your powers of investigation are sub par at best and horribly obvious. If you have something to ask Zim, spit it out now, but if you're trying to draw information from me or worse, attempting to engage in small talk again you know what Zim will do to your disgusting mouth appendage."

Dib rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, you'll rip it out." He grunted and switched legs, "I don't understand what your aversion to small talk is here, and stop being so paranoid, not every question I ask is for information."

Zim glared at him, "You just asked me to inform you about linkets."

Dib blushed, "Yeah, well… we already went over that I stink at small talk."

"So stop attempting it." Zim seethed. He pivoted sharply on a heel and stormed over towards the far wall of the mostly empty room. In its current state it looked like a barren gym but the Irken began to remedy that by typing some codes into the wall's interface. Several punching bags deployed from the ground, nearly cutting Dib's view of the Irken off and he had to step around it so see him.

"Why?!" Dib challenged, "Why is it so bad that I'd like to get to know you?"

"Because you have more important things to do than wonder what Zim's favorite color is." Zim snapped sarcastically, he pushed the punching bag aside and strode past Dib, who'd taken to following the Irken about like a lost puppy.

"I'm pretty sure I can already guess your favorite color." Dib rolled his eyes, "Besides, what's got you so touchy about that stuff anyway? Am I compromising you, huh? Causing you such inconvenience that this kind of kindergarten niceties are definitely worth this type of hostility."

"You also stink at sarcasm." Zim scoffed, an irritated grinding of teeth paired with a forced exhalation like a sigh and he said, "Look Dib-thing. I tolerate you but you're compromising yourself here."

"Really now?" Dib asked, folding his arms, "Wanna elaborate?"

"If it will put an end to your antenna maiming jabber, fine. Zim does not wish for you to become attached, at least not more so than you already are. Despite your filthy organic heritage, you have the chance to pry yourself away from the servitude your kind mistakes for loyalty. It would be a shame to miss such an opportunity by shifting that misguided drive onto the Captain or myself." Zim crossed his arms and gave the human a challenging look, daring him to dispute his logic.

"Hold up." Dib pinched bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up to his hair line, "You… you think that if we're civil towards each other I'll become so attached to you, it'll change my opinion on whether on not I leave Earth? What kind of backwater, egotistical bull is that?"

"This has nothing to do with Earthanoid bovines!" Zim snapped testily, "I simply have experience in this type of blind loyalty and since you stubbornly refuse to let me assist you, this is the best I can do."

"What, be a total jerk? Jee thanks. Real helpful." Dib snarked. He was suddenly and violently annoyed. What kind of weak willed, pliable sap did the Irken take him for? Like he'd forget Gaz just because he had a nice conversation or two with this asshole?

Fat chance.

Zim's eyes darkened, anger brewing beneath the surface. "Tsk. Figures you wouldn't understand what's being offered. All you organics are sentimental simpletons. You finally have the chance to pursue something because you find worth in it, not because blood or duty binds you, and instead you squander the opportunity by finding a new master."

"Stop calling me that." Dib snapped, not knowing what Zim meant by 'organics' but having enough sense to know the way the Irken said it, it was derogatory. "I'm not squandering anything, I haven't even decided, and you've got a lot of nerve telling me I'm acting like some weak-willed lackey. You don't know a damn thing about my reasoning or my motivation so you can shove your-"

"And what of your motivations Dib-thing?" Zim sneered, "You're probably going to die regardless of your choice, this is a war after all. What you should be doing is determining which cause is worthy of your blood. Instead, you make a choice on whom you owe a bigger debt. Pathetic. Take it from someone who knows, hyuuman, when you follow someone out of obligation rather than belief, you're no more than a puppet." He gave Dib an appraising sort of look, "You have the potential to pull the strings but would rather dance on them. It's sickening to watch." Zim crossed his arms and looked away, "I know how emotional ties work with you organics and Zim refuses to ensnare a single one of your strings. I claim no debt from you and I'll not confuse your feeble feely emotions. You said you wanted to make this choice by yourself, so make your choice for yourself."

"I do make my own choices. And I'm not bound by my debts or whatever crap you're on about." Dib snapped.

"Really?" Zim asked haughtily, "So you want to engage in this small talk drivel with everyone? If I gave you a list of everyone's favorite colors, you'd be happy? Please. You only want to know about me because you feel like you owe me. The only reason you stand my presence is because I've saved your life. Last time I checked, that's a debt – one you've repaid, by the way, but Zim isn't going to pretend he understands the twisted working of that big head of yours."

"My head isn't big!" Dib snapped, his hands going defensively to his ears as if he could hide them. He managed to hide his flush of embarrassment with one of anger, "What is with you and colors, anyway?" Dib muttered, wondering if this was another example of Zim's tunnel vision or if he really didn't want Dib to know his favorite color. Maybe colors were like the Irken version of accidentally congratulating a fat woman on her pregnancy – it was just in bad tastes. Before Dib could confuse himself with the possibilities of Zim's stupid fixation, he said, "Look, I just wanted to know you a little alright? I mean, yeah, you saved my life but I'm not interested in you because of that… its… well you can't say an Irken like you isn't interesting?"

Zim paused at that. He'd been in the middle of setting up various obstacles, his attention flickering between the human and his work but now he turned to give Dib his full attention.

"Hmph." Zim crossed his arms and glared down his nasal bridge at Dib. "So I'm a specimen then?"

"You're not a specimen you-"

"You said an 'Irken like me'." Zim challenged, "You find me unique, something worthy of study, no?"

Dib balked, blushing a little, "Well… yes, er… I mean, sorta, but that doesn't mean I think you're-"

"Let's say I died and was fine with you preforming an autopsy. You're saying you wouldn't be excited about that?"

"Wow." Dib said, running his hand through his hair, "That's a seriously fucked up question. I-"

"Yes or no, hyuuman. It's a simple question."

"Ok, yes, Jesus. That's crazily fucked up but if you were ok with it… er… but that doesn't mean I think you're a specimen though – I have a goddamn degree in Paranormal Investigation, aliens physiology is kinda my thing, it's not like I'm specifically gunning to cut you open or whatever fucked up thing you're thinking."

"...you said yes." Zim muttered, clearly not listening to the human. Instead he was biting at his exposed claw that most closely resembled a thumb. "Hm… so you really do see me like that… that explains a lot…"

"What?! No it doesn't." Dib protested hotly, "Look Zim, I-"

Zim held up a hand to silence Dib, he was still mulling over the new information he'd gained, talking aloud and ignoring the human's protests, "You can't get attached to a specimen. They break too easy… are replaceable… so it's not like an experiment would sway your decision…"

Again Dib tried to protest that he didn't see Zim like that but, shockingly, Zim seemed more comfortable being seen as a specimen rather than an acquaintance or ally. He smiled in a weirdly satisfied way and said, "Hmmm… alright Dib-thing. If I'm a specimen then I suppose learning my motivations could benefit you should you choose to stay planet side. Though I will warn you I'm a rather flawed example of the Armada." He shrugged and looked at the human, "You may ask my color preferences."

"Gah, Zim seriously that's not what I…" Dib's passion died out into irritation. He was massaging at his head, trying to stem the throbbing in his temple that would surely become a headache and attempting to figure out how this conversation had gotten so colossally fucked up. "Oh whatever." He glared tiredly at Zim and said, "And I told you, I already know your stupid favorite color so I'm not going to ask about it."

"That so?" Zim asked, mirroring Dib's posture. "Last Zim heard you said you thought you could guess it. Are all hyuuman's so arrogant?" He shrugged, "Tell me Dib-thing, what is it then? Astound me with your detective skills."

Dib shook his head, annoyed. He wasn't going to let the Irken bait him however and said simply. "It's blue."

Zim didn't even blink and he said, with an almost bored tone, "Hmmm… so you're speciesist too? How nice."

"W-what?!" Dib balked, a furious blush leaping to his face, "I am not-"

"You say you know my favorite color and the one you guess just happens to be the Resisty's colors." He looked down at the flat of his hand and polished the nails along his chest, inspecting them. From the tone of his voice it sounded like he was quoting something when he next said, "Irkens are an amalgam. There is no individual, only the Masses." He shrugged, "The Masses I answer to are that of the Resisty. Nice guess."

Dib blushed furiously, he hadn't meant to say what he did but he didn't like the way Zim was looking at him… assuming how he knew. "Your gym clothes are blue!" He snapped pointing to the recreational jumpsuit the Irken wore. They were a lighter shade than the navy of the resistance. "I know they're not regulation, and everyone else seems to wear whatever they please, but you always wear blue when you workout."

"Considering the type of extra fabric we have available, that's not exactly evidence." Zim snorted, still inspecting his nails.

"Yeah? Then how about the way you dig through the dishes in the mess hall until you find something blue when you think no ones looking. Or how you don't have any decorations in any of your sanctioned spaces except a blue plant and a blue painting in your lab."

Zim's head snapped up like it'd been yanked by an undeniable force. His eyes dilated slightly, antenna perched atop his head and then, after a moment, the shock on his face solidified into a glare. "You… have you been spying on me?"

"What?" Dib's spine stiffened and his voice shot up an octave in surprise. Zim's antenna honed in on that sound, twitching just so, and noticed the way his voice quavered when he said, "Who me? Uh… why would you even say that?"

Zim's eyes widened at the implications, his spine going ramrod straight and his fists clenching dangerously.

Dib had yet to go to Zim's private lab; the human had only been to the publicly sanctioned lab issued to Zim and while that was indeed called his private lab by crewmates it wasn't the one he'd decorated. In fact, the human shouldn't even know Zim had a second lab, he hadn't even visited the place himself for over two weeks except for…

Well, except for last night.

"Explain now." Zim grit out, his voice low and dangerous.

Dib began to sweat and gesture wildly about, his eyes anywhere but on Zim. "It's…. it's not like I intended er… I mean it wasn't on purpose… not at first any… uh… wait that sounds bad… what I mean is…"

Zim crossed the space between them in two quick strides and slammed Dib against one of the oversized punching bags, lifting him by the shirt collar so his feet couldn't touch the ground. "You better get your story straight now, hyyuman." He growled dangerously.

"Ok, ok, jeez." Dib squirmed against Zim's grasp, his hands instinctively tightening around the Irken's biceps as if he feared he'd be dropped without the extra support. "I did spy on you last night but it wasn't on purpose." The latter half of his sentence came out in a panicked rush and he'd flinched back at the sound of Zim's PAK port sliding open, fear that he might become a shiskabob making him talk even faster than normal.

And that was saying something.

"I was up late last night thinking after what you'd said and happened to bump into you. I thought it might be a good time to talk but when I got close you were talking to someone so I hid cuz I didn't want to interrupt but I kinda stayed near cuz I did want to talk but you never really noticed and I realized it seemed kinda sneaky but then I remembered I needed to practice my sneaking if I decide to go back and you are an Ex-Elite and I originally did it just to pass the time until you weren't busy but you kept finding things to do and I… well I…" His sentence started to fizzle out as he began to run out of air, not pausing to take a breath between words.

Zim rolled his eyes, seeing that Dib was turning blue in a panicked attempt to quickly get the whole story out. He immediately slackened his hold and watched, unamused, as the human immediately fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap, gasping like a fish out of water.

"Breathe hyuuman." He sighed, and planted his hands on his hips, annoyed and glaring down at the human desperately trying to catch his breath. A thought suddenly struck him, antenna perking up in interest and he said, "By the way Dib-thing, how did you follow me anyway? Zim would have noticed if you were clinging to the walls with your grubby hand-thingies."

Despite the fact that this probably wasn't true, given Zim's lackluster powers of observation leaving much to be desired, Dib was wary of telling the Irken the truth. His eyes widened just so, and he looked up towards Zim nervously, "Um… well about that…"

Zim's eyes narrowed, quickly associating Dib's hesitance with answers he wasn't liable to like. "What?" He drew the words out just between a wary growl and a sigh.

"Well…" Dib pulled himself to his feet and looked away, trying to assess escape routes if need be, "You were right about the Jeffery tubes..."

"Unbelievable." Zim exploded, "Has your ginormous fluff filled head cavity completely forgotten the little fact that nearly half of those tubes are still irradiated?!"

"…I used the air vents too… I'm not completely incompetent." Dib muttered moodily and crossed his arms.

"My apologies I don't think my antenna picked up on that." Zim hissed dangerously, "You did what now!? Are you trying to tell me that for at least half of last night we were breathing in air tainted by your filthy Earth-smelly body?!"

"That's really the only problem you have with this?" Dib deadpanned, his face blank and irritation evident only by the way he clenched his fists. "You know what Zim, how would you like it if…"

Zim didn't seem to notice the way Dib trailed off and stared towards the entry way. "Of course that's not my only problem! There's a million different protocols and rules you just breached and look at me when I'm talking to you hyyuman." He snapped his head towards where Dib was staring, his eye practically budging out of his socket.

An extremely sizable alien had just walked through the Rec Room's doors and was currently walking across the large, gymnasium sized space that separated them from Zim and his dozens of punching bags and obstacles. Whoever this guy was, he must've been at least 8 feet tall, with huge muscles that swelled with every step he took. He had bright, sightless green eyes, and was the first alien Dib had seen with anything resembling hair. The hair, bleach blonde in color, sat atop his three heads, which were arranged with one over each massive shoulder and the final centered above the chest. The light color brought out the deep tan of his skin. He wore a garishly purple jumpsuit that cut off just above his massive biceps that convinced the human even speaking to this individual could be hazardous to his health.

Zim seemed not to notice how terrifyingly huge this alien was or he just didn't care by either bravery or stupidity or both. His eyes darkened into a glare and, shockingly he marched up to the behemoth, having the audacity to start laying into him. "Damian." Zim snapped and, as he neared, Dib was terrified to see that the Irken was about half the size of the tri-cranial alien. He felt his insides go numb as he placed the name 'Damian'. This had to be the sparring partner Zim had mentioned during debrief but… if Zim was regularly sparring with this behemoth…

Maaaaybe Dib should work on not antagonizing the Irken so much…

Zim didn't even flinch as he marched up to the towering alien and, amazing, had the balls to punch him on the arm.

Dib felt faint.

"Where exactly were you!?" Zim growled, annoyance evident.

"In my quarters." Damian replied in a deep, gravely voice that sounded like he was chewing rocks. The effect was even more unnerving by the way his two extra heads echoed the sound. "Why are you mad? We agreed to spar after training."

Zim crossed his arms and tapped his foot irritably and, in the shadow of the giant, Dib couldn't help but think he looked like a nagging wife. "We switched sparring times because you were supposed to help me prepare for the training session. I would have thought one of your tiny brains could have comprehended such a task."

Damian frowned and crossed his arms, his gaze flickering between Dib and Zim. Dib wasn't sure why the alien was suddenly scrutinizing his, and he nervously edged a little bit behind Zim just as the tri-cranial said, with a touch of humor, "You're mad you had to entertain."

"Of course I am." Zim snarled, "We were supposed to warm up and prepare. Instead Zim had to endure filthy pleasantries with the large-headed hyuuman dirt-child because you decided to hit snooze."

"Hey!" Dib snapped, "I'm right here you know. And my head's not big."

"It is large." Damian said, unhelpfully, "For your size. You are tiny."

Dib flushed scarlet and surprised himself by blurting, "Do you always start your introductions with an insult or am I just lucky?"

Damian either didn't care or hear what Dib had said; instead the tri-cranial was fascinated by the shade the human had morphed in his humiliated rage. Apparently blushing wasn't a common occurrence, or at least not the way Dib blushed - his pale white skin changing almost as dramatically as a chameleon when startled.

"You're very… pink." Damian said, taking a step towards Dib. His massive body hunched so all three heads could peer down at the boy.

"Oh… uh, thanks?" Dib supplied, feeling awkward and wanting nothing more than to take three very large steps back to reclaim his personal space that was suddenly invaded.

"Welcome." Damian said, and straightened himself out, already disinterested in the exchange. "I am Damian. CSO."

"CSO?" Dib echoed.

"Chief Security Officer." Damian supplied and shrugged his massive shoulders, "Means I throw you in the brig if you step outta line. Don't step outta line."

"O-ok." Dib stuttered, uncertain if he was being threatened or informed. He tapped his fingers together nervously and glanced down at his feet, suddenly and uncomfortably aware that he was being stared at and hoping that the behemoth would get bored and look away.

"I gave you my name. What's yours?" Damian said, but the way he said it sounded more like he was honor bound to know now that he'd begun an introduction rather than he actually cared.

"Uh… I'm Dib." The human shifted his weight awkwardly and looked at the vicinity where Zim was, wondering how long he'd allow this uncomfortable exchange to continue, and was dismayed to see the Irken had disappeared to the other side of the room.

"Hmph." Damian grunted in acknowledgement but didn't claim to be pleased to meet Dib like society usually dictated. Instead, the three headed alien turned to Zim, who was in the middle of lugging several sandbags across the floor. "Zim." Damian called, his deep voice sending chills down Dib's spine; unnerving and emotionless. "What should I do?"

"Oh no, please continue your pleasantries with the hyuuman. Zim really had no actual need for you after all." Zim snapped, and while his voice came out even it was clear by the way he was dragging the sandbags that they were a touch too heavy even for him.

Damian apparently noticed this and walked over to Zim and picked up the bags, annoying the Irken by shooing him out of the way. "Sarcasm." He replied, raising an eye ridge at Zim, "You're still mad."

Zim growled and crossed his arms, "Not mad just stressed. You know how important this is to me."

"I do."

"Then I don't need any of your lip! Are you here to help me or not?" Zim growled, "We only have a few degrees before they arrive and I don't need my first training session to fall apart because I – no, put them on the other side, yes, there – I don't need it to fail because I couldn't even handle something as insignificant as set up."

"You won't fail." Damian assured and he looked at the punching bags hanging about and the various obstacles already in place. He obviously saw a pattern because he said. "Course 7, right?"

Zim just nodded and went back to work. Dib attempted to help but the only thing left was heavy lifting and he conceded that if Zim had to call this behemoth for back up then there really was nothing he could do.

Dib watched as the rest of the pieces were pulled into place and room suddenly looked like some sort of obstacle course, though he couldn't understand why there were so many punching bags running down a line in the middle. The two aliens finished just as a few early birds were starting to show up and Dib decided he should probably go and mingle with them. He slunk off, not hearing the small pep talk Damian was giving Zim.

"They'll like you." The tri-cranial assured. "I like you."

"They don't have to like me." Zim snapped, dusting his hands free of sand, "They can hate me all they like. If they think I'm too strict or defective or… whatever! The important thing is they follow me and allow me to train them. It's for the cause, I just need them to tolerate me long enough to know what to do if they come face to face with an Armada solider or… any other real Irkens."

"You are a real Irken." Damian said, and he gave Zim's shoulder a small squeeze.

"T-that's not the point!" Zim snapped, his antenna snapping up on top of his skull. "The point is that-"

"Relax." Damian's big hand gave Zim another reassuring squeeze. "You'll do ok. They'll like you." Zim's antenna wilted and he blushed, he looked down at his feet, his shoulders sagging. "I'll see you afterwards for sparring, OK?"

"Ok." The Irken mumbled and pushed his hand away, his blush deepened and he spat, a little angrily, "Zim isn't a smeet, I don't need your reassurances."

Damian shrugged and said, "Ok."

And with that the massive alien sauntered off. Most of the recruits had made it at this point and were milling about, talking; they parted like the Red Sea when Damian walked past, allowing him to leave and then they continued with their chatter, some glanced Zim's way, others loudly wondering what this was about.

Zim frowned.

It was now or never.

The Irken walked out from under his obstacle course into the wide open space of the entry way. Those who knew Zim, mostly bridge crew members, immediately stopped talking and began to fall into formation but there were a few who didn't.

Show time.

"Alright, listen up." Zim snapped, his voice easily carried across the hall, silencing those talking and forcing the few stragglers still arriving to hurry into formation. Zim began to walk up and down the ranks casually, his arms behind his back as he inspected the recruits, thankful to see that they remembered how to line up, and he said as much, "Well. Zim will say it's heartening that you all still remember your place. Even if you've all spent the last few years fattening up." He said that last comment as he passed a particularly large blob of a recruit. It wasn't exactly the recruit's fault, since he was an actual blob but he still looked down rather abashedly at Zim's scrutiny. The Irken turned and began to walk the ranks in the opposite direction, missing the apologetic pat on the arm another recruit offered the blobby one.

"I will no longer sit back quietly as we become pliable blobs of flesh for the Armada to sink their claws into." Zim continued dramatically, "Lard Nar has granted me the duty of whipping your pitiful meat sacks into shape and, so help me, I'll do it and I'll do it right. Some of you have been in past wars, been soldiers for other worlds and some of you are complete novices. But I'm going to train you to fight the Empire and Zim will assure you none of you have been through the kind of hell I'm about to put you through." He paused in the dead center of the room, his eyes roaming over the recruits who were suddenly shifting their feet and looking like they wanted to be anywhere else. Zim didn't seem to mind and continued his less than comforting speech, "You will be pushed harder than you knew you could be. You will want to quit. You'll hate it and by the end of it a good deal of you will hate me." Zim paused, making eye contact with each and every person before continuing, "But when we finish we'll be some of the best damn soldiers this galaxy's ever seen. And by the end of it you will trust every person in this room with your life, without the slightest hint of a doubt."

Zim crossed his arms, "Now. I understand that we are not all Irkens here. Tallest, not even half of us are the same species. And that's what's going to make us great." He said, "Today you see before you an obstacle course. When I call your name, each and every one of you will try your hand at it. I will rank your strengths and weaknesses and then you will be given a group number. That will be the group you stick with for your primary training and where we will make each and every difference at our disposal a distinct asset. We will assemble each morning in here, together at 0600 and then you will assemble again later in the day for your group." A sadistic smirk crawled up his face and he crossed his arms, obviously pleased as he said, "And for those of you worried this might interfere with your shift schedule, don't you worry your pretty little heads. You're looking at the new Quartermaster." A groan filtered through the ranks that Zim quickly silenced. He then pulled out a list and glared down one poor recruit and said, "Now, with pleasantries out of the way, Ensign Jijin, you're up."

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Lard Nar found Zim down in the Warp Core near the end of the day. Most of the engineers and maintenance personnel had shuffled out, but the Commander was currently fussing over the main control panel he and Dib had inadvertently damaged when they saved themselves from falling into the core.

"Zim, can we talk?" Lard Nar called down toward the central platform, because honestly the day had been long and he didn't want to descend the long ladder down to the core's main room. He'd thought Zim would be up in the rafters, fixing the wires, or else he would have entered a different way.

Zim, ever the master of evasion, called, "We're talking now."

Lard Nar sighed and launched into his dialogue without preamble as he began clambering down the ladder, wincing at the swell of his calves. Maybe he shouldn't have hit the gym so hard today, but he could hardly be a potato when the crew started their training. "Zim, what exactly is this ridiculous notion of Dib treating you like a specimen all about?"

Lard Nar had originally planned on talking to Zim over tea time about how the training had gone, but since Dib had showed up instead of Zim, and since the human had some interesting things to say about what had gone down in training, the Captain decided ridding his ship of childish animosity was probably more important than seeing who could still run a mile without dying.

"Put on some goggles, I'm working with radiative Xerons in here." Zim called, not bothering to look up from the pounds of machinery he was fussing over. When Lard Nar had made his way down, put on his goggles and made his way over to his Commander, the Irken finally graced him with an answer, sighing dramatically. "I don't want to influence his decision."

Lard Nar took note of the defensive tone of Zim's voice, clearly he expected the Vortian to lecture and it's not like the Captain was one to disappoint. "We both know that's not why you did it." He began, hoping this could be a productive conversation rather than the nagging he feared it might dissolve into.

"And why did I do it, Nar?" Zim patronized, examining his tool and setting it just right to begin fussing with the wires.

Lard Nar had to restrain himself from strangling Zim in that moment. He clenched his fists, forced them to relax and took a deep breath. "Fine, we don't have to talk about it." He assured, annoyed beyond belief, "I'm just saying, Dib seems to take things almost as literally as you do and telling him to treat you like… well like some sort of experiment has me more than a little worried."

"Dually noted." Zim huffed and pointed towards the toolbox at Lard Nar's feet, apparently unsatified with the tool in his hand, "Hand me that G71 oztic, I think we might need to revamp cables I1 through D9 and if I can't salvage it we might need a whole central grid to fix it."

Lard Nar's eyes glanced over the machine and he nudged Zim slightly out of the way, "What about the W4 series? Most of those are external processors, we might be able to swap them out and-" He froze mid-sentence, and glanced at Zim just in time to see a slight smirk fall from the Irken's lips. Lard Nar's eyes narrowed and he placed his hands on his hips, "Oh I see. You're distracting me with shop talk to avoid the issue. Very clever." He crossed his arms and gave Zim an appraising look, "And very childish."

"Well what do you want me to do, Nar?" Zim snapped, "It's not like I'm going to become besties with some hyuuman who doesn't even know if he wants to join up."

"I'm not asking you to be 'besties'," Lard Nar deadpanned, an eye ridge arched sarcastically. The sardonic way he said 'besties', quotations audibly apparent, was so ridiculous it would've been hilarious had it not been obvious that he was furious. "I'm asking my Commander to have the social graces to be civil enough in the presence of a potential recruit that you can greet each other without hiding under this weird specimen façade." He ran a hand over his horn with a sigh and said, "It seems like every day it's something else with you two. Look, I know you're not exactly fond ofhim but-"

"I never said that." Zim cut in, shocking Lard Nar into snapping his mouth shut with a little 'click'.

"Pardon me, what was that?"

Zim rolled his eyes and huffed, "It's not that I don't like him, exactly. Zim of course hates him but he's a good warrior so I hate him out of respect obviously, but beyond that…"

Lard Nar's eyes flew open so wide if he had any whites to be seen it would've been the artic on his optics. He was so comically shocked that Zim, for once, didn't seem to have any comment and decided to return to his work. Lard Nar meanwhile had covered his mouth, brows furrowed with thought and he suddenly placed a vice-like grip on Zim's forearm. "By the gods," He gasped. "You like him. You really like him."

"What?!" Zim yelped, his cheeks dusting with a light smattering of purple. "No! At best I tolerate him."

"Uh huh." Lard Nar raised his eye ridge and crossed his arm, "You're doing the thing."

"I'm not doing anything." Zim snapped angrily.

"Nu-uh. You're trying to get him to dislike you so you know what to expect and can't be upset if he doesn't want to be buddies. You're pushing people away again, Zim." Lard Nar warned, a frown adorning his lips. He couldn't help but feel a thrum of pain knowing that, even after all these years, Zim believed himself to be a danger unworthy of getting close to others. The Vortion sighed, wondering if Dib had what it took to force down the Irken's barriers and make him understand. He had to hope anyway, Zim needed more people he could rely on to help balance out his still present grief.

"I don't want to be buddies with that hyuuman!" Zim snarled, resorting to anger now that he'd been push too close to emotions he wasn't comfortable expressing. "I told you. I tolerate him. I'm trying not to influence his decision. That's it."

Lard Nar sighed and he said, quietly, "You're not a danger to anyone Zim. You never were." He gave his Commander a smile and tried to pull him into a hug that Zim quickly shot out of, as though it burned. His smile diminished, becoming brittle and pained but he still tried to get through to the Irken. "You know, it's ok to have friends Zim."

"Irken's don't have friends!" Zim spat bitterly, and he turned away from Lard Nar, hugging his arms together as if he were cold.

An uneasy silence filled the space where both officers were momentarily lost in the turmoil of their emotions.

Lard Nar frowned, his quiet voice breaking the sudden silence, "You have me."

Zim gave him a small smile before his frown deepened and he sighed, "I'm not exactly the best Irken."

"Oh, pish posh." Lard Nar swatted at the air to dispel the ridiculous notion and put a hand on Zim's arm. He met his Commanders eyes and gave his arm a slight squeeze, "You're amazing and you know it."

The hesitant smile on Zim's lips grew sharper with a humorous arrogance, "True." He conceded easily, "I am."

"Don't you think Dib might think so too?" The Vortian pressed gently and Zim frowned, self-loathing marring his features suddenly.

"I doubt it." He growled.

"Zim…" Lard Nar began gently, "You killed my brother." Zim's body stiffened under the Vortian's touch and he gave him a wide eyed stare like he wasn't sure if it was more appropriate to apologize again or flee. "Don't give me that look, you know I know it wasn't your fault and I don't blame you. I'm saying it because when we first met it wasn't exactly on the best terms and I think you're pretty great. I mean, if we can be friends after all that, do you really think Dib's going to shun you just because you yelled a little? You're a great person and an even better friend. Loyal, thoughtful, honestly I wish you could see it." He cut himself off with an annoyed little huff and shrugged, mustering up a reassuring smile for Zim, "Food for thought."

"Thoughts don't need to be fed." Zim said immediately and it was so serious and so sudden that Lard Nar couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"My mistake, Commander." Lard Nar soothed, giggling at the way Zim looked increasingly distressed for not understanding the joke. "Although this is a perfect example about what I mean." He gave Zim's arms one last squeeze and said, "In all seriousness, you need to remedy this whole 'specimen' thing. If he enlists, he's going to want to throw that big brain of his at every bit of lab equipment we've got to conjure up some answers. And believe me when I say I doubt you'll like the results."

"Hmph." Zim crossed his arms over his chest, his cheeks still flushed with color, "I'll get around to it."

"I mean it Zim." Lard Nar warned, "I don't want your excuses, he's a person not a gallywomper, he's not gunna bite your head off. Just don't do that thing where you work yourself up and start pushing him away. Please? For me, if not for yourself."

"Fine." Zim sighed.

Lard Nar smiled, "Good. See that you do."