A/N: Thanks to the reviewers of my last chapter. It's been a while, but you (and your comments) have not been forgotten: Zerg170, memmek10k, Canadafangirl11, EduTorresD, MajorDarkblade, Cassidy, CoffeeWench, Guest, CatGirlFireflare, PowerTaco, and BlackBaccaraRose.

I also wanted to thank all those who wrote PMs, left thinking-of-you reviews, ect, when I put up a note saying that my mom was in end stage cancer and I wasn't going to be able to write more for some time. Within 18 hours of putting up that notice I had 24 email notifications of your notes of sympathy and advice. Such a response from so many people I don't even know meant a lot to me and I was able to share them with the family. I just wanted to give an extra mention to some of those who took time out to write and encourage, here and over facebook, or hanging out with me over TeamSpeak voice chat.

Lucus V. Moore, Zerg170, BlackBaccaraRose, Deus Orion, Already-Lost-It, WerewolfMazuko117, Guest, cold blue, Zekiev Clayton-Zolnerowich, BloodLordShadem, Cassidy, F-ckthesystem125, Bullet, Ish, Marisa, Quark, KingDawg and my online friends Katilen and Moon Beam (who spend time online with me watching the Invader Zim series and texting back and forth going over the TS channel going Lol), Camel69er, Ransom40, ChromeTi (Lela), Eagleeye, Yota, Hootowl, Chapka, and Dormath.

I put up the notice on 8/24/13, and mom passed away 8/28/13. It was hard and an ugly thing to watch and hear, but she was surrounded by family and friends. She passed away exactly as she lived. She never gave in, never stopped fighting, never surrendered an inch. She did not go quietly into the night, but fought death tooth and nail, kicking and screaming (in spirit of course) the whole way until her last breath. There is honor in that I believe. I think Zim would understand.

During my break this story hit nearly 27,000 views. Wow! Many chapters have over 1,000 with Chapter 12 (where they accidentally eloped) holding the record at 1,353 (chapter 1 doesn't count).

I'm also going to throw in a few lines from the TV show Andromeda. Some of my all-time favorite lines, and it fits Zim pretty good. Also one from a Dave Barry book, I think.

I broke this chapter up into three parts. Chp 23 parts 1 & 2, and Chp 24. Otherwise it would have been a 40k word chapter. Hopefully I'm not too rusty after my break. We shall see.

A knock on the door woke Gaz up, and she unwillingly hauled herself out of bed. The heavy curtains were sewn closed, and no light was penetrating through the window to illuminate her surroundings. Groaning and mumbling unintelligible threats against the sun if it ever dared rise too early again, she dragged her feet across the carpet in her pajamas and opened the door. A shaft of light snuck into her room and splashed across her squinting face. Gaz held her hand up over her eyes.

The door opened wider and the shadowed silhouette of a female Irken appeared, wearing a white robe showing a sliver of her pinkish purple nightgown. "Gaz?" Tak spoke into the doorway. The Irken cautiously looked to her right at the shelves where the human's security dolls lay dormant. The demonstration of why no one should ever intrude into Gaz's room echoed in Tak's mind. What those dolls had done to that block of ham was… disturbing. Especially to one who had a thing about meat. "Gaz. You're first class starts in ninety minutes. Dib is making breakfast."

Gaz opened her eyes, her vision slowly getting used to the light coming in from the hallway. She figured that the reason her introduction class into economics started in the morning was that it was easier to pass off their absurd theories to their students if they were half asleep. Gaz flipped on her bedroom light and squinted at her new book sitting on her desk. Economics 101 - Giving Corporations All Your Money: A Study of a Healthy Society.

The human girl let out a huff and looked back at her sister-in-law. It was about the last class Gaz wanted to take at the community college, considering it was pure propaganda. But it was a prerequisite to the ones she felt she would need next quarter and later on. She didn't want to be completely reliant on Computer in managing their resources like Zim obliviously was. It made sense to be able to fill in if Computer broke down or something and it took time to replace some processing core or other complex component.

Tak stepped back into the hallway and walked back into Dib's room as Gaz crossed over into the bathroom. As she splashed warm water over her face to wake up, Gaz's ears were assaulted by the banging of numerous pots and pans crashing onto the kitchen floor downstairs and Dib trying to convince Mimi it was her fault. Then there was more crashing as it sounded like Mimi was showing Dib what her fault really looked like. A small pot bounced up the stairs and rolled past the open bathroom door.

Both Gaz and Tak poked their heads out the the rooms they were in and yelled downstairs.

"DIB!"

"MIMI!"

"Sorry!" came Dib's apologetic call.

"Well, I guess I'm awake now," Gaz commented to herself grumpily. She turned her head and glanced at Tak who was standing in the doorway leading to Dib's room. Well, it was her room too now. The Irken was scratching inside her robe along her belly and chest again, her antennae leaning way back behind her head.

"Tak?" Gaz asked. "Are you all right?"

Tak looked at her with woeful purple eyes as her clawed fingers tried to scratch like some feral animal without tearing the silk nightie she was wearing underneath. But she spoke covering up what she was experiencing. "It's not that bad most of the time. But in the morning after my maintenance cycle is complete-" Tak didn't finish the sentence.

Gaz thought the Irken looked really uncomfortable at the moment. "How long has this been going on?"

Tak stopped scratching for a moment. "Since the smeet."

"Tak," Gaz said slightly exasperated, "that was over three weeks ago."

Tak nodded and resumed her scratching, but more softly this time. "It shouldn't continue past my first trimester. And Dib helps in the evenings. But he can't be with me all the time. It's just the worst in the morning," the Irken explained.

Gaz thought to why Tak hadn't said anything before. She recalled of one of the times she had spoken to Mrs. Alpha.

The human girl stepped to one side of the underground walkway and pressed a button near the edge of the sliding door. Gaz looked into the large transparent armorglass plate that gave the office a view of the upper bow of Doomwind. Inside Mrs. Alpha waved her to come in. The unsealed doors slid open and Gaz walked into the office like she owned the place. Which in fact she did.

It was the biggest private office within the base. Mrs. Alpha had her feet up on her desk and had been reading a thick book. She pulled her feet down as Gaz walked in and spoke. "The commute shuttle will be ready in an hour. Are you looking forward to heading home for the weekend?" Gaz asked.

"It will be good to get back," Mrs. Alpha admitted. "Immerse ourselves with familiar surroundings and visit friends back home."

Gaz looked around the large office. It was more of a conference room really, with the desk Mrs. Alpha was sitting behind, a bookshelf of cheap romance novels and hardcover mystery books. Hanging in the corners and on the shelves along the wall were non-flowering plants of various types. A dozen or so small chairs were stacked along one wall. "How are you settling in?" Gaz asked.

"Well enough," Mrs. Alpha sighed. "But all this is a lot to get used to." she waved out the window at the space-going carrier sitting in it's berth underneath a set of huge retractable doors. The surface side of those doors were disguised as a runway for VTOL aircraft, and could be used as one too. Irken cargo lifters zipped through the air outside and tiny figures in the distance directed traffic. "But somehow I don't think you're here to ask about me."

"You're right," Gaz told her without hesitation.

Mrs. Alpha waved to a chair sitting before the desk, and Gaz took the seat. "Well, I have an open door policy and I'm here to listen whenever someone needs it. Isn't that why I'm here?" Mrs. Alpha asked. "Would you like me to close the privacy curtains?" She nodded her head toward the office view.

Gaz shook her head. "No it's nothing like that. Mostly I just wanted to ask about Tak."

"I'm sorry, Lady Gaz," Mrs. Alpha said in a formal tone. "I can't talk about anything she said in group or if she came in privately. Honestly, I wish she would come in privately. But that kind of trust is not easy to earn, even with Computer disconnected from this room and anti-eavesdropping devices embedded in the walls. Tak speaks some in group with the other Irken women, but I think she only really opens up to her husband. And that's probably how it ought to be."

"That's not what I meant," Gaz said defensively. "It's just that she's living with us now, and sometimes Dib goes off on some stupid investigation. She's alone in the house with me. Around here she wears her General persona, but at home… Well, I don't know. I'm not very familiar with what happened to her on Dirt, and all the other things going on in her head. Look, I just don't want to be responsible for making her worse. Especially if I have reason to be… upset."

Mrs. Alpha cocked an eye at the girl sitting before her. "And," Gaz added, "she's not one of my Irkens under my appointment as Lady. Tak is, well, family."

"You want to comprehend the nature of what you're living with," Mrs. Alpha stated. "Okay. Tak hasn't spoken much about her time on whatever planet she was sent to. But I can briefly see the haunted look in her eyes whenever dirt is mentioned. In the recording you sent me Dib said she had to eat meat. So I asked around about why the foodstuffs and the human kitchen were located down in the bio-hazard bays. It's where the Irkens felt they needed to store all the water and meats we use to wash and cook for ourselves here."

Gaz nodded for her to continue. "They can't come in contact with either. But meat is worse. Much worse. And Dib told you Tak had to eat it to survive. The only illustration I can give to help you understand what Tak had to do to herself would be for you to melt plastic to about four hundred degrees until it melts and then drink it. Gaz, it doesn't just burn you. It melts into your skin and keeps burning. It fuses into your flesh and still it burns and doesn't cool down quickly. And that's just if you get it on you. But to ingest molten plastic?

"Gaz," Mrs Alpha said quietly as she stared at nothing, lost in her own thought. "They sent her to her job- not to perform a duty, which she did- but to wither and die out of their sight. Every time she chose not to let herself starve to death, she also had to choose to torture herself in a horrifically brutal way. Tak did this for years, Gaz, while she did the 'job' she was assigned. She didn't stop. She would have let herself heal as best she could each time, but her body also needed more nutrients to do so. Thus more meat.

"You and I, we endure pain at times. But when it gets to a certain point we'll take an aspirin. Not because we can't endure it, but simply to relieve the discomfort so we can focus on other things. Tak's sense of what discomfort level is acceptable to ignore is probably skewed simply because it's nothing compared to what she is used to enduring."

Mrs. Alpha shook herself of such ugly thoughts. "And on top of all that she has to adjust more than any one of her people alive has ever had to before. She has her organic mind that has been traumatized, and that technological one in her PAK programmed in ways I don't even want to think about. From what I've gathered from Dib when we've talked, Tak's technologic 'brain' has relaxed it's grip some on her organic one. She's adjusting and learning. It's really amazing, but those two brains might not always agree. So she'll have some confusion on a subconscious level at times I think. At least when she gets outside of her areas of expertise.

"Plus she's lived in total isolation for all those years of torment. Tak didn't have to live with the concept that her actions would impact anyone but herself for a long time. Or that she could seek out assistance. Tak may not seek out help except from her husband unless it gets real bad. Sometimes I think the only reason she comes to our 'Mothers Anonymous' group is because it's part of her sense of duty as a General to her female troops. I think she needs family to help her rehabilitate, but family is also an alien concept for her. Just make offers to include or help your sister-in-law, give her time to her learn. And don't be harsh, but fair."

Gaz had noticed the occasional scratch or rubbing in the evenings before Tak and Dib retired for the night. But it appeared that this morning itch Tak was experiencing was getting out of hand. "Tak," she exclaimed slightly exasperated, "your second trimester is over six months away. And you weren't going to say anything?" Gaz just shook her head and turned to face downstairs and yelled for her brother.

"In a minute, Gaz!" Dib's voice yelled back. "I'm trying to make breakfast!"

Gaz sighed as she shook her head. She turned into the bathroom once more as Tak looked on and opened the medicine cabinet. Gaz pulled out several bottles and scanned labels. "Dib has some stuff in here. Sometimes on his stakeouts he gets into poison oak." She noticed Tak's eyes at the word poison. "Most people are allergic to the oil on it's leaves, and it causes a rash that itches a lot for a week or two. Nothing serious but very irritating."

The human girl rummaged around some more and found the tube of ointment. "You've seen how dirty Dib can get when he's out checking up on some weird story."

Tak nodded. Already on seven different occasions Dib had shown up at their front door with sticks and twigs caught in his hair and looking like he has rolled in a pig sty. His Irken wife had no qualms about refusing to let him inside the house until he had stripped down to his underwear and sprayed himself thoroughly with the garden hose, with Gaz snickering when her brother was finally allowed indoors carrying his pants, shirt and coat. They were probably the only house in the city with a laundry hamper standing by the front door as Tak didn't even allow Dib to dirty the garage. Dib had finally learned to conduct such investigations very late at night when neighbors were too busy sleeping to see a young man in his underwear washing himself outdoors.

"Here," Gaz said, handing Tak the tube. "It's not water based. It says to rub the cream deeply into your skin to relieve itching."

Tak looked at the tube in her hands skeptically, then at her own hand and the three Irken fingers ending in minor claws. She didn't say a word, but looked at Gaz with an expression that said 'Really?'

"Right," Gaz slowly let out. Irken fingers weren't exactly meant for massaging. "Dib! Tak needs you upstairs!"

"I already told you I'm making breakfast!" Dib called back from downstairs. "Showing Mimi how to make beenie-weenies is not as easy as you'd think! Can't you help her?"

Gaz slapped the tube of ointment in Tak's palm and stomped out of the bathroom and to the top of the stairs. "Dib! There is no way I'm rubbing lotion on your freaking wife! You do it!"

The pajama clad girl clomped down the stairs and locked her eyes on her brother wearing only his sweatpants as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Then she put her hand over her eyes. "Oh, God! Now I have that picture of you two in my head! Thanks a lot, Dib! I really wanted my brain to wake up to that."

She swept past him and into the kitchen. "Stupid Dib," she muttered.

Gaz looked down at Mimi in her holo-feline disguise. Even with the holographic windowpanes operating now, preventing anyone outside from seeing aliens inside, Tak had only recently stopped using her human disguise while in the house. And Mimi still did so. Perhaps Mimi preferred that graceful feline profile to her clumsy looking robotic one. "Come on Mimi. I'll show you how to liquefy hot dogs. It's super easy."

The girl opened up the can of 'splodey beans and dumped it into the pot on the stove. As she pulled a package of hot dogs from the refrigerator, she spied Mimi giving her an expression that said she did not like this idea. Her mistress' feelings on meat were clear.

"Hey, don't give me that Mimi. We need to eat too. It would just be nice if your mistress could join us during meals instead of hiding in their room like she has been. It's not good for her. I'm just trying to make it so she doesn't have to see it. That's all."

Mimi gave a toss of the head that clearly said 'whatever' as Gaz pulled out a leftover bowl of rice and tossed it in the microwave. The girl retrieved a blender as the beans began to cook and the microwave hummed. "If you watch this, you can show Gir how to do this too. And you know how much Zim will love that."

Mimi instantly switched to a sitting pose like that of an angelic and purely innocent kitten.

The girl smiled as she dumped the whole package of hot dogs in the blender, held the lid down and pushed a button. Gir would no doubt make a huge mess in the kitchen at Zim's base when her Irken husband went home later in the day. Not that she wanted Zim to suffer actual injury; he would just see liquid hot dog all over the kitchen walls and yell at Gir to clean it up. She just wanted to annoy him for trying to cheat at tic-tac-toe during lunch yesterday. Insult her intelligence would he? That required something special to vex him.

Giggling from the bathroom upstairs caused her to turn her head. "Dib! You two better not be doing anything nasty up there! I have to use the bathroom too!"

Dib stepped out of the shower squinting without his glasses, slipped on his clothes and walked out of the bathroom to his bedroom door. He knocked twice, letting Tak know it was him.

"Dib!" Gaz called from downstairs.

"I remember!" he called back as he opened the door and stepped inside, closing it once again. "Tak, hun? Have you seen my glasses?" He felt his glasses placed in his hand, and his blurry world regained detail as he put them on.

Tak was standing in front of a new mirror hanging on Dib's wall. She was in her grey fatigues, but the back of her shirt where it somehow fastened behind her neck and pulled the back of her uniform snug around her PAK was open. The mottled cloth hung loose down her shoulders, exposing her green skin along her neck and upper back above her PAK. Dib smiled as seeing the dull purple collar of her bonding necklace both from behind along her neck and in the mirror hanging below her throat.

Dib gazed at her reflection. Those solid purple eyes, bent curled antennae. Tak looked back in the reflection and her green face flashed a small smile. "You've almost got your weight back," he complemented as he embraced his Irken wife from behind, careful not to touch her with his damp hair. His own bonding necklace clinked against hers. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"Sort of," his green wife answered. She raised a hand and patted one of Dib's embracing arms. "The morning itch is much better."

"But?" Dib asked, slowly drawing the word out. He rubbed his hand along her belly, enticing a soft purr from Tak.

Tak relaxed a little for a moment, then turned and stepped away as she reached behind her head and pulled her uniform shirt into place. The back seam along the cloth sealed into an invisible line, her grey mottled shirt now looking like a regular paramilitary khaki styled shirt anyone could be wearing. If one didn't count the two stitched black stars on her shoulders. Or her name stenciled across her right breast pocket and the capital letters 'EDF' on the left. Especially if you didn't count the clearly visible PAK on her back.

"I don't know," she said. "I feel like I'm missing something. Subtle and yet pervasive. I can't put it into words."

She caught the puzzled look on Dib's face. "I know. But I'm eating well. The supertoast is horrible, but I won't need to choke it down much longer." She looked down at herself. "I'm not emaciated anymore. But I'm flabby."

Dib took both her hands in his own and stepped back to sit on their bed with her standing before him. She looked like a healthy weight to him. Her bones didn't stand out anymore nor did she look pudgy. Tak looked… well, good. But given her history, perhaps she was developing some sort of eating disorder.

He reached up and ran a finger along her jaw line. "Hun, I think you are rather attractive," Dib commented with a smile.

And she was. Dib had never looked at a human like he looked at Tak. Well, he had been too obsessed before with his quest of saving the planet from Zim and every other paranormal thing that came along. But now he found he didn't want to see another human as attractive. Only the Irken before him with those purple eyes and becoming curly bent antennae. Even if they sometimes sharpened in Irken anger. When those features softened, they were beautiful for Tak seemed to glow in those moments.

Tak smiled in turn. She rather liked it when he used her shortened pet name. In private at least. The thick, sweet, nourishing liquid was her favorite garnish and snack. But her human was continuing to solidify his bond with her. And that was a very good thing. It had been hard at first, seeing Dib bond with the life within her faster than he did with his mate.

"Dib, I mean I've filled out, but I used to be able to sprint through an Irken obstacle course in ten minutes flat. Now I can barely jog six blocks and back without resting on the way. I'm much better than I was, but still…"

Dib thought he understood. While Tak had gained most of her weight back, she hadn't regained that muscle mass or conditioning. "So what you're saying is that you're just out of shape?" he asked.

Tak shook her head. "I don't know. I suppose that's part of it. I exercise on the base, but the past two days this feeling has been getting worse. Dib? About tonight. Can we just do the date thing?"

Her young human husband stood up to regard her. "Today is Gaz's busy day. We don't get the house to ourselves often. You don't want to play 'Alien Examination?'"

Tak shook her head. Dib smirked. "Not even 'The Naughty Invader?' I know you like that one."

His Irken wife smiled with a gleam in her eye, but shook her head. "You like that one too, Dib. Especially when I get my samples for study." Tak paused in thought, and brought Dib's hand to her abdomen. "Dib, my egg sac is growing. I just want to slow down. It's taking longer to mend, and I don't want to put too much stress on it."

Dib nodded in understanding. He gazed at her belly, his human hand held over that precious place by a green three fingered and slightly clawed Irken one, their simple wedding bands in plain sight. He couldn't feel her egg sac anymore now that her weight was just getting back into a healthy range. "I miss being able to feel that," he whispered to his wife.

A heavy thud banged on their door. "Dib!" Gaz's voice penetrated the barrier. "Breakfast is ready." The was a slight pause. "I even ground up the weenies so Tak can't see them. But I'm not waiting."

Heavy footsteps of steel toed boots thumped away and down the stairs.

"She really knows how to kill a mood, doesn't she? Well, come on," Dib said. He gave Tak's hands the barest of tugs. "Gaz and I would like it if you came down and had breakfast with us. You know. As a family."

Tak looked doubtful. "Come on, hun. You're not going to get used to it if you never try. Or are we going to hide our alien eating habits from each other forever?"

"That's not fair. You just have to see me eat snacks. I have to watch you stuff that filth you call food into your face."

Gaz sat at the kitchen table shoveling the mixture of beans, rice and ground up hotdog particles into her face. She had decided to skip her morning shower and make due with washing her hair in the kitchen sink. Then had gotten dressed for class while Mimi set the table. Dib skipped down the stairs two at the time and sat down across from her.

He greeted his sister as he picked up a spoon. "Morning, Gaz,"

"Don't remind me," she grumpily expressed.

She wished she had signed up for afternoon classes instead. But the one she needed was in the morning. Gaz had reasoned earlier that taking one long class well into the afternoon once a week was better than getting up early three times a week for shorter ones. Now she wasn't sure which was worse because today was going to be a busy day. Then again, the other days wouldn't be and she'd have time for herself and some quality time with Zim. Once he got done with his self-appointed shift at the base, whatever random schedule that was. But at least he kept his evenings free for her.

Another voice spoke up from the entryway leading into the living room. "What's that smell?"

The two siblings looked back at Tak. The tone of the question wasn't one of disgust or disdain. The Irken was holding an unopened snack box in her hand from her supply she kept upstairs. She was almost salivating, and moved to start opening up cupboards.

Dib and Gaz looked at each other in confusion. There was only human food down here. At least nothing that an Irken would find appetizing such as doughnuts. Tak apparently didn't find what she was smelling.

"She looks hungry," Gaz commented as she continued to eat her breakfast and watch her sister-in-law at the same time. "Tak, there is nothing down here you wanted before. In fact you said it was all revolting swill some digester threw up."

Tak moved on and opened up the refrigerator. Her antennae were stretched forward. Not seeing the source of that smell, she began to open the lower drawers.

"Tak!" Dib called out to her, "Don't open the bottom drawer. That's the one that-"

The Irken shrieked in horror and ran from the room.

"-has the meat," Dib finished.

He got up and moved to follow Tak into the living room. Gaz sighed, left her breakfast behind and trailed Dib. "So much drama," she muttered under her breath. "You'd think I was at Zim's place."

Dib overheard her and wasn't pleased. "You better get used to it. You're going to live there one day."

They walked in and found Tak sitting on the couch, stroking Mimi's holographic fur and staring at nothing in particular.

"Tak? Hun?" Dib asked as he took a seat close to her. He took her hand, and she ripped it away from him. "What's wrong?"

The Irken didn't say anything for a while. "Dib? Why would I want to do that to myself?" Tak whispered.

"What? Do what to yourself?" Dib asked with concern.

"I'm hungry. That's what I was feeling. I... something in me is saying I need to eat meat." Tak looked into his human's eyes. "Why would I want to subject myself to that horror again?" She gazed down at herself. "What kind of sick freak am I?"

Dib looked a bit perplexed as well. Gaz sighed. He was probably too close to his wife to think clearly, focused on her trouble rather than the signs. "Dib, she's starting to have pregnancy cravings."

"Cravings?" Tak asked with tears in her eyes. "I've had parasites before and never had these cravings. Not for… for-"

Gaz thought back to her earlier thoughts about what Mrs. Alpha had said about what it would be like for an Irken to eat meat, and what Tak had to do. She thought about how when Tak had sent Dib her message from dirt that she had been on a meat diet at the time. Yet she didn't demand, ask, or even beg for food or even rescue. She had asked to be given a decent burial when it was finally over. She hadn't whined, but endured. Tak may have given up hope when she was marooned, but she kept on going. But what would it feel like if one thought a part of themselves wanted to go back to that?

Gaz sat down on the other side of the Irken on the couch. Perhaps she needed to hear it from another girl. "Tak, you're not sick. And you are not a freak. This isn't you having an urge to torture yourself. What you are going through is sort of what you're supposed to be going through. Your PAK just wasn't built with your situation in mind. Your brain is getting mixed up signals." Tak gave her a look of clear disbelief. "Having a baby is not like having a parasite. You're body is going through changes, adapting to what it needs to do to grow a smeet, give birth to her and be her mother. It's a huge change. And you're eating for two people now. One of which is part human."

"Gaz, our baby has only what? Five percent human DNA? Zim had to resequence it to be mostly Irken." Dib pointed out. "How different from Tak could she be?"

"You should have paid more attention in biology, Dib." Gaz told her brother. "Five percent is a huge difference. There is only two percent difference between your DNA and a pig's." Dib looked at her. She shrugged. "Hey, I did a term paper on why humans were an insult to pigkind."

She turned her attention back to Tak. "You were on a protein diet back on Dirt. But now your on a wholly Irken one made up of mostly carbohydrates and tons of sugars. Your smeet needs raw material to grow. Proteins, amino acids, sugars, all sorts of things. She's been drawing those things from you, but you're running out. That's what you're body is telling you Tak. That's all. There is something that is in the meat your smeet needs to grow healthy. Not the meat itself. There are substitutes."

Tak looked at Gaz. The human girl sighed and put a hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Look, I'm going to say this only once, and I am not going to admit it later. You are not some sick freak. You are worthy, Tak, to be my sister. And you know what? I'm going to go through the same thing when I have a kid. Dib said that when my mom was pregnant with me, she craved scrambled eggs, ice cream, and fish oil mixed together. That's pretty awful. But she needed the nutrients and craved it." Tak had never heard Gaz talk about her own mother before. "What you are experiencing is normal for what you are going through."

Dib, spoke up. "Tak, we talked about this. Remember? You have morning itch, right? That's your body adapting to carry our smeet. There is going to be chemistry changes. Maybe volatile moods. It's going to be confusing at times for both of us. But we'll get through this."

"Have you talked to your smeet yet?" Gaz asked the pregnant Irken. She shook her head. "Try bonding with her, Tak. She's your daughter and is completely dependent on you. Everything you do and eat can affect her, but she effects you too. You're in this together."

Tak looked confused. Dib slid off the couch and onto his knees. "Here, watch me." He reached up and tapped his finger on Tak's belly, bringing his face close and speaking in a sweet voice. "Hello in there. This is your daddy. You're giving your mommy a tough time today, aren't you? Something tells me you're going to be a real handful. Yes you are."

"Dib, she can't understand you," Tak pointed out. "She's barely more than a bundle of cells."

Gaz stood up. "While you three bond, I'll go round up something for Tak." The two females looked at each other. "I can't promise it won't be gross, but we'll find something that won't hurt you."

As she turned to walk away, Dib mouthed 'Thank you.' Gaz just nodded, grabbed the phone off the wall and walked into the kitchen. She heard Dib mumble something. Then she overheard Tak speaking down at her abdomen. "Um. Hi. My name is Tak. Right now you are incubating inside me, and giving me cravings I do not want. Nor do I appreciate the itching." There was a human cough. "But I am glad you are here. That you-" There was a brief Irken sob. "-survived your conception. We don't want to lose you."

Yeah, Gaz thought as she thumbed through a phonebook and dialed a number. That wasn't a mood swing. "Hello? Chang's House of Soy? Do you deliver? Yes, it is too early in the morning." She pulled out one of Computer's corporate credit cards she kept on her instead of cash nowadays. "How about you make an exception and I give you a two hundred dollar tip? No, I'm not. My sister is. How did you know? Not your first call, huh?"

They sat at the table waiting. "Tak," Dib said softly. "I have to leave for skool soon, and Gaz won't be late for her first class. Go on, try it."

Tak looked again at the two plates sitting in the center of the table. One held what looked like a meat patty of some mysterious and questionable source that someone had driven over. The other held a block of what looked like a cube of artificial whale blubber, only less appetizing and not as natural looking. She picked up the fork and, reaching over, took a chunk of the white pasty square.

The Irken took in the bite and chewed with a nasty grimace and swallowed. "Ugh, that was perhaps the most awfully bland, vulgar texture and, and, Oh Irk! What was that horrid thing?"

Gaz answered. "Dried Tofu. Want some more?"

"Yes," Tak declared, reaching for the plate. She eyed the other one warily. "I'll save that one for later. It looks like Zim hit something with his Voot Cruiser."

Dib grabbed the plate before Tak could pull it to her. "Here. I'll make you a maple syrup smoothie with it. That should make it more tolerable for you, hun."

As Dib washed out the blender extremely well before preparing the smoothie, Tak asked her human sister-in-law "What is that other thing?"

Gaz eyed it warily as well. "That is something called a soyburger. Maybe we can glaze it in honey or something." She looked back at Tak. "Listen, you've been working hard for a while, and this morning's been rough. Would you like to take some time off for yourself? The VIP meeting isn't until late this afternoon."

Tak considered this. "I'm not sure what I would do. I'd be alone here. Even Mimi will be off babysitting Gir."

"How about you and Dib go to the mall during lunch?" Gaz asked. "You two could, you know, go eye-shopping for baby things."

Dib and Tak looked at each other almost shyly. They'd been out a little as a couple, but not as officially expectant parents. "I think I'd like that," Dib told his wife as he poured ingredients into the cleansed blender.

Colonel Alpha, Captain of the escort carrier Doomwind (which confused the Irkens. But to be fair, the confusing rank of what a captain could be was a long standing human tradition), stood in the base's control tower overlooking area. We've really got to stop long enough to figure out exactly what to call this place, his military mind thought. It's not a naval yard, not solely an air field. Not an army barracks or just a depot. It's more than a little bit of everything. But he supposed 'the base' would do for now.

He gazed at the scenery outside the armorglass panels amid the humming of computer interfaces and machines as well as the clicking of controls. Outside the control tower had a three hundred sixty degree view all around. Parallel to the commuter airport next door ran the base's large tarmac and runway. There were nearly sixty Harrier and Warthog aircraft out there in various stages of upgrading, lined up in neat rows. Another ten or so were parked in alert slots facing the runway. The runway was clear, of course, as those were the huge doors covering the dry dock Doomwind rested in. At the other end of the base next to the nearby lake were the six large hangers, with subterranean elevators inside to convey small spacecraft to the maintenance bays and the huge docking cradle. They were closed up right now and for good reason. Those contained the thirty Spittle Runners and the shuttles Lady Gaz's Irkens had brought with them. Everyone wanted those alien interceptors kept out of sight, yet ready to lift if they were needed. And the shuttles were flown out quite often during the night shift.

Behind the hangers was an area set aside for the motor pool. He had only casually mentioned a need for cars, trucks and other assorted vehicles a military base needed to Lady Gaz once. Two days later some tractor-trailers had delivered two dozen SUV's, a fire truck (for the human crew to operate, naturally), a few flatbeds for picking up supplies and other materials the base needed, and some forklifts of various sizes to use outdoors when outside sources brought deliveries in. And the base had needed a lot of things to make it livable. At least for humans. There were also several golf carts for transporting here and there on base without drawing undue attention. A lot of it probably wasn't exactly necessary as the locals wouldn't notice anything if a flying whale floated over the city. But Zim had always been nearly phobic of being exposed, and the Irkens working inside were a bit nervous too.

On the surface it looked large, but fairly unimpressive. About three thousand feet long, one thousand feet wide, and mostly made up of the hangers, control tower, the front gate, and large expanses of what appeared to be concrete. A few trees here and there. Under the surface, however, was a far different story.

The base extended downward several hundred feet all around, but only about a quarter of that was the dry dock for Doomwind. The facility was so big that the place felt empty with only a few hundred people living and working here. But it definitely was a military base. Below the tarmac ran conveyors, oxygen and other lines that ran ammunition and supplies to replace reactor fuel, power cells and replenish life support modules direct to the fighters parked outside. Hatches would open and robotic lifters would rise up and make attachments. Down there, a fighter's turn around time could be measured in under three minutes for a full replenishing, and double checked by a single safety supervisor or pilot on rotation.

Also underground were a few ground defense particle cannons and surface-to-space interception missile batteries in pop-up bunkers that had been part of the base's installation program. All around the perimeter were the typical looking guard towers and wire fencing. Naturally those guard towers only looked typical. Hidden in those were multi-purpose plasma guns which could switch to either rapid-cycle anti-personnel or heavy pulse firing anti-armor modes. Then under the hanger roofs were automated mortar tubes which could fire all manner of high and low tech shells.

And down below all that were the residential, fabrication, ordinance manufacturing and handling sections. Tremendous long-term storage spaces and on and on the list went. Down at the bottom were three 'small' cold fusion power plants and machines that took in water from the nearby lake and local runoff, then broke it down into hydrogen for the power plants and vehicle's fusion engines, as well as oxygen for life support. The whole base could literally seal itself off from the rest of the world and hold the local real-estate from hostiles for a very long time with minimal staff.

He had been impressed with the modifications done to their obtained aircraft and now the vehicles that had been brought in. The power cells installed within the cars would probably outlive the cars themselves. But the rest of it, as General Tak had given his team a familiarization tour, had left him breathless. And all this was a mere Irken storage depot. It wasn't even a front line base! There wouldn't be any more high tech Irken military technology coming in, but this place made the local city the most defended piece of real-estate on the planet. And it was all due to an flawed and exiled alien invader trying to overthrow humanity who had accidentally gotten married his native wife.

Alpha turned back from the view and eyed the large displays around the center of the control tower. There was a much larger command center deep within the base that hadn't been activated yet, but a chamber that could be used to manage the defense of an entire planetary system was pure overkill for what they were doing now. The past three weeks were so busy they had just flown past without notice. He had proposed some changes that the Irkens just weren't used to, such as actual ranks. And there was no way any of them was ever going to call a human superior officer sir or ma'am. Unless that human was Lady Gaz.

He looked down at the control officer working at one side of the room. There were three Irkens working the control tower coordinating flight operations and any ground traffic that came in. The Humans and Irkens weren't exactly comfortable working together yet, but everyone kept their thoughts to themselves. Most of the time anyway. Alpha read the nametag on the control officer's grey uniform.

"Lieutenant Blup, how does your board look?" the human asked.

"Specialist Roz's next delivery is scheduled to arrive in four hours. Ordered manifest includes duranium tubing, canisters of ablative heat shield spray, anti-laser reflective paint, plasma induction coils, another two hundred boxes of robot thruster modules, sensor eyes and control boards, as well as more repulsion field emitters."

"Figure she will run the wormhole at full throttle again," Alpha commented. "She'll probably shave thirty minutes off this time."

Blup ignored this. "One of the flatbeds has finished picking up the next load of honey, as well as several cases of maple syrup, and the cargo van is on the way back with more of your disgusting 'groceries.' Major Echo's training flight has circled your moon and is on their way back. Cargo shuttle two is in position at the Neptune orbital line and is deploying the first SEN hyper-frequency satellite for their deep space surveillance array. Then it will continue positioning their Early Warning Buoys. Shuttle three is dropping off human Agents at Loch Ness Lake, British Columbia, a place in Romania called Transylvania, and will pick up the VIP on the way back. Dragon Three is on Harrier escort with them."

The Irken turned to face the human. "Why should I be doing this when we have Computer to do it for us?"

Alpha let out a silent sigh. This point seemed to be difficult for the Irkens to grasp. They were reliant on their technology to do so many tasks for them. "You are going to be my Flight Coordination Officer on Lady Gaz's ship, and technology can suffer battle damage or be circumvented. It's tedious now, I know. But it's good training for when the dookie hits the fan later. Say we get hit by a Meekrob EMP torpedo and lose the computer network. You might have to guide Echo's whole wing in for combat landings, with only your brain and PAK sorting everything out and issuing instructions over the backup radio, while the rest of the crew manually spools up for a quick jump into FTL. Would Lady Gaz expect anything less of us if it looked like we may lose the ship?"

Blup seemed to consider this for a moment, then returned his attention to his display. Alpha allowed himself a hidden smile. The 'Lady Gaz expects' card almost always seemed to work if used logically.

If only everything else worked that smoothly, he thought as he looked back up at the central displays. Especially the views around the front gate. Why does this happen only on my morning watch? he asked himself. He was the Captain of the Doomwind, but right now he also acted as General Tak's executive officer. A role he had far more experience in. And the past couple of days, first thing in the morning, they showed up trying to get onto the base. To the best of his knowledge the base defenses were not designed for this situation.

Alpha pressed controls to zoom the view closer. Three large trucks were haphazardly parked just outside the gate, and several dozen green figures were trying and failing to climb the fence. But they were nearly reaching the top this time before falling back to the ground.

"Computer, can you divert more current to the fence?" Alpha asked.

The disembodied voice of Computer spoke out. "I'm sorry, Captain. If I give it any more power, it will melt."

The Colonel/Captain reached up and thumbed the Irken modified radio attached to his uniform's shoulder. "Charlie how you doing down there?"

Charlie's voice buzzed back. "They've got rubber gloves and threw quilts over the razor wire this time."

Alpha looked up as the elevator doors slid opened and Zim entered the room. Great, Alpha thought to himself. He took a step over to his own control board and pressed a communications button. "Gorilla squad to the fire truck for crowd control. Crimson team, you're up. And I want a Mantis squad in their disguises, hanger five."

A terminology had been evolving the past few weeks by both species. Not flattering, but useful. Especially when used over a loudspeaker and you didn't want it broadcast that you were talking about aliens. He also didn't want the Irkens involved unless it became mandatory. Disguises could become dislodged in such an environment, but if the fire truck's hoses couldn't keep the intruders from climbing over they would need somebody in reserve to round them up.

"Dirt Colonel Alpha," Zim called out.

Alpha sighed. Not in annoyance at Zim's insults. Zim didn't say it as an insult. More like trying to say the rank with his PAK insisting on adding a demeanor. To be honest, he felt sorry for the guy. What was it like to have an electronic brain feeding your mind concepts that could be so distorted that it made a carnival's particularly deformed fun house mirror look like a view from the Hubble Space Telescope by comparison? The guy seemed like he was practically cursed at times, and yet had such good fortune. It was as if some invisible force had some bi-polar love/hate thing going on for the Irken since the moment he was hatched from his incubation tube. At least that was the sense he got from what Alpha could gather from whispers and overheard tales. Zim's view of humans in particular was, well, not good. But he did try. Zim was a lot of things, but a willful hypocrite wasn't one of them. He truly admired, respected, and adored his human wife. He just seemed to have very low tolerance levels and a high set of standards to match. Actually, it seemed Lady Gaz was the same way. Just more… grounded.

"Why has this trespassing not been dealt with yet?" Zim demanded. "With all the might of Irken defense technology on this base, why are they not running away in fear? Today there are more of them!"

Alpha let out another sigh. The Irken's attitude got worse when he had been skimping on PAK maintenance. "Governor Zim. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves with particle beams and plasma bursts." Not to mention outright destruction would be wrong here. "We can't use more stun grenades because they brought tennis rackets. It will be taken care of by the time General Tak gets back. It's our job to take care of the details so you higher ups can focus on the big picture. When things quiet down I'll go out there and have a chat with them. You've heard of a measured response, haven't you?"

"Of course," Zim said with pride. "That is the amount of firepower available divided by the number of targets."

Alpha inwardly face palmed. But really, Zim wasn't the most difficult person he had served under. Or had the worst ideas ever. They were just… wrong in a human sense. Well, not as wrong as that colonel who thought teaching marines ballet would improve hand-to-hand fighting skills. But still…

Charlie's voice buzzed again over the communications net while on the display screen the fire truck drove to the scene. "Security to Command. Their coming over the wire!"

"Okay, then. Just use the mortars. They are quiet and effective," Zim suggested.

"I can't call in mortar fire on Girl Scouts!" Alpha exclaimed. "Besides, aren't you the one who started all this by ordering a ton of 'Carmel Cluster Bombs?'"

"Zim only ordered one box!" the Irken countered. "Zim gave instructions to dispose of it when they turned out not to be examples of Earth style munitions. Tak asked for such things for inspiration! Besides, who would order more? They are probably made of sawdust!"

"Nope," said a nearby control operator with smudges on his face and hiding a wrapper. "Just sugary goodness."

"Computer!" Zim called out. "Launch a volley of gas rounds."

Alpha just stared at the displays of the base, video showing a box pop up from a hanger roof, exposing mortar tubes. He fumbled for his radio. "Gorilla squads, abandon front gate and for God's sake hold your breath!"

On the display figures of five defenders dropped the brooms and poles they had been pushing green uniformed (and now rubber gloved) girl scouts off the electric fence with, and ran. A yellow cloud of mist exploded in the middle of scrambling little girls, and they began dropping to the ground. Alpha's mouth just hung open.

"There. Problem solved," Zim stated happily. "When they wake up from their nap, you can go down and have your chat. I'll be back downstairs working on Project 'Lancelot.'"

"You gassed Girl Scouts?" Alpha asked unbelievably. Using chemical weapons on little girls seemed so wrong. Even if they were behaving like sharks who smelled blood in the water.

"You've been using an electric fence for the past three mornings," Zim pointed out. "May as well be using a giant cattle pod."

Alpha sputtered a bit. "But- but we have signs telling people that the fence is electrified!"

Zim regarded him with a look. "Foolish human. You think merely putting them to sleep quickly is worse?" And with that Zim turned back into the elevator. "Signs!" Zim quietly giggled as the door slid closed. "What a silly notion."

Alpha turned back to his displays. How was it that Zim made his protest seem so stupid? I hate fundraising season, Alpha thought as he keyed up communications once more and called up a duty roster on his display. "Security alert stand down and get some rest. Support squadron personnel, fourth section. Clean up at the font gate. Bio-technician, please get in your disguise and check the casualties for any lasting effects."

The officer checked his displays one more time. He really preferred it when Zim stayed down in the lower levels during work hours. He did good work down there if someone like Computer silently double checked everything. He just had this inexplicable way of complicating things.

Alpha walked toward the elevator. He eyed the third Irken in the control room. Her display showed an aerial view of a Jeep leaving a suburban residence. "Major Lim? Does Lady Gaz know you've been using some of Governor Zim's stealthed surveillance drones to keep tabs on her?"

Lim just sat back and watched her displays. "No. She does not want us to accompany her at all times, even though our primary purpose is her protection. But this is not an Irken world. Lady Gaz does not want us being open in performing our duty. Her words were 'One big brother is bad enough. I don't need a freaking babysitter too.' So we have Computer monitor from a distance. We're not sure what else we can do but support her efforts here, and trust her understanding of this planet."

Alpha regarded this for a moment. "We are all feeling our way through this, Major. We'll things ironed out in time. So what does Lady Gaz's itinerary look like today?"

"Today the Lady has her first 'college' class this morning until her late lunch at two o'clock. The VIP meeting is at 3:30, and she has a partial shift at her Parental Unit's workplace starting at six."

Alpha nodded and turned, called up the elevator. "I'm heading to the front gate to sort things out with the Girl Scouts. We can't let this go on. And be sure to call me when General Tak comes on duty. I really need some sleep."

As the human waited for the elevator to return, Lim pondered to herself what expelling iron had to do with anything.

Gaz's Jeep stopped next to the guard shack after driving past a white van, the nearby tent, and through the base's front gate in order to let Tak out. The General was in her human holographic disguise now that she was outdoors again, with a raincoat in her arms. Gaz, wearing her black coat, leaned over the now empty passenger side and spoke through the open window flap. With the weather easing into a rainy period, she had reinstalled the door skin that covered the open air vehicle in bad weather. "Tak? I can drive you to the hangers if you want. I've got a few minutes to spare."

Tak shook her head. "No, I would rather walk for now. I need the exercise. And it gives me time to prepare."

Gaz nodded in understanding. After her time on Dirt, bonding with a human mate, and now carrying a smeet, Tak was no longer comfortable among other Irkens. A psychological after effect of her previous ordeal. Tak didn't exactly avoid other Irkens. Her duty wouldn't permit that. But it did cause stress. She preferred the company of humans (which was not the same as actually enjoying it), and whenever possible worked on the aircraft parked outside, coordinating with the Razors, or by herself in her office researching and designing. She made time for newer arrivals as well, but saw they needed space to get used to her not being human, and not seeing things in a human way. Yet it seemed that having a husband to go home to (or sometimes complain about) and her status as a mother-to-be made Tak less different, and easier to acclimate to. And perhaps the reverse was also true.

"Alright," Gaz replied. She pulled a card from her coat pocket and handed it to Tak, leaning far into the passenger side to reach out through the far window. "Here. When you and Dib go for some lunch and do some baby shopping, pick something out that catches your eye. My treat."

Tak eyed her with a mystified expression as she took the card. "Look, Tak. I know it's not easy living with me while settling into a married life with Dib. And I do give you both a hard time because I don't want to be aware of my brother's love life. I'm… in the way when I'm at home. But you've been good for him. You and he having that smeet is probably the best thing that could ever have happened to him. Dib is more… balanced these days."

"I do not blame you. I wouldn't want to live with Zim either. -"

Tak was going to say more, but for some reason Gaz burst out laughing. "I'll move out eventually, Tak. I promise. Then you and Dib can have the whole house to yourselves."

Gaz turned her Jeep around as Tak walked off toward the far off hangers. She stopped at the front gate's fence, seeing the disguised Irken standing at the guard house saluting her. She also paid more attention to the white van on the other side of the humming fence with the lettering 'Girl Scouts of America - Selling Cookies at All Cost,' and the open tent with two green clothed little girls set up next to their cargo van. She hopped out of her Jeep and spoke to the Irken in the bad 'comb over' toupee and blue contact lenses who stepped out onto the pavement.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Lady Gaz. Colonel Alpha made an agreement with these 'Scouts.' They stop trying to intrude on the base and set up outside the perimeter to sell their snacks. If they behave in an orderly fashion, we'll have a chance to buy more," the Irken reported, "with a running tab to be paid at the end of the month. Computer will handle it."

Gaz just shrugged. "So what are you doing out here? I didn't think my Irkens got assigned outdoors this far from the hangers."

The small guard stepped out of the shack, only coming up to Gaz's thigh like most of the Irkens on base. "Only a few humans have been brought in, and most of those are training for pilot duty. They take over during traffic hours in the mornings and evenings, but they need too much sleep and downtime just to refresh their brainmeats and retain what little they were able to learn. Human-looking robots weren't complex enough for the task. That leaves us Irkens in the support squad to take up the slack."

Gaz regarded the Irken for a moment. "You're one of the last Irkens that were brought in. I guess you didn't realize what your job entailed when you were offered it."

"I know my duty, Lady Gaz," the Irken said in a slightly snubbed tone. "You may be human, but according to my Tallest you are now my rightful Taller. It is your place to say how things are done."

Gaz crouched down onto the balls of her feet, bringing herself to his level and smiled. "Doesn't mean you are happy about it," Gaz commented, looking evenly into his disguised eyes. "Your PAKs weren't indoctrinated or programmed to serve me, a human, like the first ones were. You were brought in at the last minute and didn't have the orientation classes. You do so because it's what you're Tallest would expect of you. You don't have to tell me my planet is lousy or that my species is stupid or pathetic. It is and most humans are."

She had heard of the people that had driven up to the front gate, thinking it was either an entrance to the airport or thought the guard shack was a drive-thru burger stand. That would probably never stop, thus the need for a manned position at the gate.

The human looked up into the cloudy sky. "You didn't pay attention to the weather report, did you?" she rhetorically asked with a sigh, removing her coat and emptying the pockets. She began putting it on the Irken before her.

"Lady Gaz!" the Irken exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"It might rain in a few hours, and you didn't bring your raingear. Did you? So I'm lending you my coat."

Gaz still may not be an emo-empathetic pseudo-hippy like her horrid elementary skool teacher Mr. Elliot. But she had an expanded family now, a flawed husband she loved, and her own (not to mention competent) Irken people to look out for. It wasn't just Dib, Tak, or even Zim who had been changed by their experiences and new-found roles to fill. It may not be in Gaz's nature to be a ruler over her people, but it was completely against her nature to be a failure.

Gaz zipped up the coat, which looked more like a poncho on the Irken before her, and stood up to rummage for a moment in her Jeep. The Irken looked on in confusion. The human stood back up to rummage in her jeep for a few seconds, and then turned to hand him her umbrella.

"You may not be exposed to rain inside that guard shack, and can take it's elevator back underground," Gaz told the Irken, "but if someone drives up during your shift you'll have to come out to tell them to turn around. This will protect you, and unlike you I'm immune to water. Just leave them in my studio when you go back inside."

The small Irken sputtered. A Taller was doing this? For a smaller? Every taller in the Irken civilization would have rightly used him as raingear. Especially on his last job where he had filled in for a time to replace a missing bumper on his previous Taller's airskimmer. He had heard from the other Irkens who had joined Lady Gaz before his cluster had. He had figured it was mostly the usual indoctrination of their PAKs talking, and he just hadn't been reprogrammed yet. After all, no Taller was that concerned with their underlings. Not even the good ones. But now he began to realize that none outside of the original first squadron had their PAKs altered to suit their new assignment. And even the first ones had simply been changed by her influence.

"And I suppose that snack stand just over the fence is driving you nuts," Gaz commented. "But you won't shirk your duty or abandon your post." Gaz smiled again. "Or give out the slightest hint of complaint. I respect that. Go on," she nodded toward the tent. "I've got a few minutes to keep an eye on things."

The small Irken's eyes grew wide. "But- but-. Lady Gaz. This is the worst job on the whole base! I mean base security is important. But we have to just stand here waiting until someone has to tell one of the stupid outsider humans they can't take a shortcut through the base. It's… it's demeaning when they try to order us to get a burger-of-cow. But you're going to stand in my place so I can get a snack?"

Gaz smirked. "Yup," she said. "I wouldn't be much of a Taller if I accepted only the perks that came with being one. Alpha told me that a good Taller is one that is willing to do the crappy jobs they assign others to do. And I hate failing at anything." She turned to speak into the empty guard shack.

"Computer, make a note for Beed. The support squadron does not get the unpleasant jobs dumped on them simply because they were brought in last or might be perceived as less devoted to me than First Squadron. Base security is the most important job on the base, and First Squadron are my personal guards. Get the hint? If an Irken gets stuck filling in for the human personnel, my First Squadron should be first in line. Not last. Got it? And update any Irken going outside on upcoming weather conditions."

The Irken walked past the opened fence and toward the creepy Girl Scouts sitting in their tent with boxes of goodies, his mind blown away. How was it that this human was the best Taller in the Irken Empire? Perhaps it wasn't just a fluke that his Taller was the only non-Irken in galactic history to have been not just granted Irken citizenship, but made a rightful Lady by the Tallest as well.

Gaz got back in her car and drove off when the Irken returned munching on his Carmel Cluster Bomb cookie. He took his position at his post in the guard shack, wearing his Taller's black coat that draped over him like a poncho and holding her umbrella. Just wait until the others in support hear about this! He thought to himself as the Jeep pulled out of sight.

Zim, standing on a step ladder, was disconnecting test leads from a tall metal tube leading to another bank of blinking diagnostic components while dictating random notes to Computer. He stood above the floor amid various types of lab equipment deep within the new base when Dib walked in wearing his green visitor's badge. The human looked around. The room was filled with crates, humming machines of Irken design, and a fairly large automated assembly line prototype. The lighting was dim amid the glow of testing equipment and robotic fabrication arms.

"What?!" Zim grumbled over his shoulder, not bothering to look to see who had intruded. "I thought I said I didn't want to be disturbed!"

His antennae were bent forward in concentration as he unscrewed an amputated cone shaped sensor ring off of a tube nearly a foot wide and four feet tall standing upright on the floor. Then the Irken carefully pulled out a cluster of ruby colored cylinders as wide as his wrist and let a robotic arm take them off to a storage trunk one by one.

"These substandard civilian components are far less durable than Irken military automation is calibrated for. This requires tremendous precision."

"Uh, Zim?" Dib asked. "The weekly meeting is about to start. Tak asked me to come get you. Again." Computer had tried four times to remind the Irken before Zim said to shut up.

Zim looked away from his work and down at the human standing there on the floor. A crash sounded as he dislodged a ruby colored cylinder and it shattered on the floor at Dib's feet. He looked at the human with disgruntled eyes. "Look what you made me do!" he cried pointing at the debris. "This is delicate work! Automated fabrication and juryrigged components don't just settle in to place!"

"I didn't do anything!" Dib protested. He looked at the Irken above him on the step ladder. It looked like he really needed a break. "Do you even know what time it is?"

Zim only gave him a blank look. Dib glanced at his watch. "It's almost 3:30, Zim." Nothing registered in the Irken's eyes. "In the afternoon. It's Thursday."

"Oh. Of course it is. I knew that," Zim replied, brushing off Dib's reminder. He stepped down off the ladder. "Why can't you have these 'meetings' without me?" he asked.

"Because you're the so-called 'Governor,' Zim. Not an Invader where you can just go around by yourself and- Okay, let's not go there." They still had heated arguments over the past. At least when Tak and Gaz were out of earshot. "You and Gaz are the leaders here. You have to coordinate with people so everyone is on the same page. I told you this last week. And the week before."

The Irken let out a sigh. He was sure meetings were a form of torture. "Zim just wants to build missiles and tune fire control circuits in peace."

Dib regarded his old nemesis-turned-brother-in-law as they left the test lab and walked down the corridor. "We really need to get you a hobby."

"That is my hobby," Zim replied tiredly.

Dib shook his head. "We need to get you a better hobby."

They sat around a small conference table in an otherwise empty room, except for the large display overlooking the seated figures. Neither Tak nor Zim were in their disguises. Naturally Tak and Dib were seated next to each other, as well as Zim and Gaz.

Alpha and Echo eyed each other. This week Zim and Gaz had spent half the meeting passing notes back and forth, playing connect-the-dots on a middle skool yearbook picture taken during one of Dib's acne outbreaks. This of course divided Dib's attention, and he sent unnoticed glares their way every few minutes. Now they were playing their GameSlaves, not indicating the slightest bit of attention. General Tak was the only one who showed a form of, well, professionalism. But at least Governor Zim wasn't voicing chronic complaints like he did last week.

Alpha exchanged glances with Tunaghost. She looked like a habitual college senior, with dyed spiked hair and 'I partied all night' eyes. But that was part of her front as an agent, hiding her intelligence and sharp eye from the world. Not that she didn't enjoy being a permanent senior at her college. That much was obvious from what he overheard when Dib and Tunaghost were catching up before the meeting started.

Alpha let out a polite cough. "Governor Zim. Will you be able to remember Agent Tunaghost's report? She covered quite a bit." Managing brass without letting them know they were being managed was a tricky thing.

"Yes, yes. There will be another shipment of Early Warning Buoys to be picked up on Monday," Zim began to recite, never taking his eyes off the GameSlave or pushing buttons. "The next Hyper-frequency satellite will be ready in another month, and will be positioned in a wide polar orbit around the sun at a range of thirty of your Astronomical Units. The Early Warning Array is ahead of schedule because the Swollen Eyeballs underestimated how quickly we could position them, and we are outpacing their home-based production. Their next requested field trip is in two weeks, and again are requesting a shuttle to save on airfare and to bypass local- DIE ZOMBIE SNAIL! DIE! They also want to know about our weapons development, which is none of their business. My Gaz-blossom says that Zim agreed that both sides would keep each other updated, so Zim will oblige- SMOOSH YOU LADYBUG OF UNDEADNESS!"

"Okay," Alpha said. He couldn't understand how someone could be so incompetent and competent at the same time. Like the alien had two brains with one constantly interfering with the other. Lady Gaz on the other hand didn't exactly pay attention, yet missed very little. That ability wasn't perfect, but the girl's intelligence could be downright scary.

General Tak spoke next. "Major Echo, your report?"

The air wing commander cleared his throat. "We've got forty Harriers and seven Warthogs certified as spaceworthy. Most are still unarmed except for the alert birds. Zim's Voot Cruiser and Tak's ship are in for badly due overhauls. As for pilots, well I'm really surprised. The Dragon's Fang's two pilots are up to speed, and the rest are a week into flight training. The Crimson Shields are in too, with another couple of pilots to help serve as instructors. They are all military like us," he gestured to himself and Alpha. "That's a good thing. A lot of people we bring in to serve in the cockpit will need to learn that this is a job, not some game. But that is pretty normal nowadays."

Echo stretched his legs a bit in his chair. "The Angry Housewives passed screening, and are filling in as base supply administrators as well. Their only condition is that we can't let the Drinking Buddies know a thing. I think they want to be in on some elite secret to privately hold over them. And they aren't worried about being paid. It would interfere with their alimony. They really want to punish those guys. We're feeling out a few others we've known in the service and sending their recommendations with Tunaghost back to the SEN for screening.

"The Proper Villains are also in. Black Ops is a pretty shady business considering all the laws we have to work around, and they like the idea of skirting around 'the man' and being the good guys. Everybody will have other jobs on base, but we're directing most people we bring in toward flight ops."

Gaz looked briefly from her GameSlave. "Already? That's almost a full squadron."

Echo shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah. Just about every boy and a number of the girls in skool wanted to be either fighter pilots, astronauts, firefighters, policemen, or secret agents. Now they can be parts of all of those in one career. It's like a chance at a childhood dream in a way."

Gaz just let out a humph. Zim paused from his GameSlave for a moment. "And they have no issues with aliens?" he said, glaring at Dib.

Echo let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "No. Most of them have been playing games and watching movies about either fighting aliens, fighting along side aliens, living with aliens, or all at once for so long that the younger generations are pretty desensitized to the concept. Discovering that it is a reality? That takes some catching up in their minds, but not as much as you think. The General helps with that familiarization. Having a-" he coughed "-home life reinforces that you're a person too, despite the differences."

"But…" Dib spoke out. "Don't they care that Zim was sent to undermine, enslave, or just destroy our civilization?"

"Well, people are pretty forgiving," Echo commented.

Zim stuck his segmented tongue out at Dib and returned to his game.

Echo began concluding his report. "As for the other CWZ convention finalists? The Imbalanced Brainmeats are good, but crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if half of them violated parole to make the convention. They don't do anything serious, but one time they TP'ed a police car while cops were sitting inside. Then posted it on the internet. Huge security risk. The Posers? They just don't take much seriously and won't believe any of this. Something about how no one shows their 'true face' or something. The Crapola's? Their parents belong to the most inept crime family in Canada. Mostly harmless, but the authorities keep an eye on them. So we are thinking that in a few weeks, when we're all settled in, that Computer should go through the convention database and look through every team that got high scores in the semi-finals. Just to broaden the search as we've already gone through everyone on the CWZ beta server. Unless you want to wait until CWZ goes live for public release."

Gaz looked up briefly. "We'll keep it in mind. Right Zim?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," replied Zim as he pushed buttons on his GaveSlave. "UNICORN FRIENDSHIP POWER IS NO MATCH FOR ZIM!"

Gaz shook her head. Zim really needed to get away from those girl game demos. He had no idea he wasn't playing Zombie Hunter. Her demented husband must be fifty thousand points in the hole by now. But it was fun to play along over the linked game watching his character use a watering can in ways it was never intended to be used. It made these meetings much more palatable.

Alpha reported next, ignoring the childishness and folding his hands. "And that brings us to a problem. We're spending our human manpower in flight training, and then there is personnel for the ship. But we're skimping on manning the base perimeter. I know it's automatic and can be controlled by Computer with supervision by three men in a control room. But it's not foolproof. Technology just can't replace boots on the ground, and we're stretched thin. Especially when we have to interact with the local population. We compensate with the Irken personnel when it's quiet, but it's a waste of talent and skill. Especially at this time when we're just starting to gear up. We humans can't take their place in technical fields, even if all this equipment you're shipping in is 'civilian grade.' We'd have to hold college classes to catch up, and that will take a long time. We can use it, but not maintain it. Let alone make repairs."

Tunaghost spoke up. "The SEN has finished programming data-miners to single out qualified personnel with wet-navy carrier experience. Echo, you suggested we focus on ship operations rather than technical tracks for the time being. I did pass that on, but don't expect anything soon. Qualified people who are also competent, open-minded, and not completely delusional are not easy to find."

Tunaghost looked at her few notes. "Now as for the material samples I took back with me last week," the agent went on. "We can duplicate the alloys that Doomwind was constructed with in about three years. Life support components, magnetic plasma regulators, those sort of things are not a problem. Give our sources ten months. But any main systems like propulsion will take a very long time. What you have is so far advanced, and we don't focus heavily on technical sciences. We have some hover technology, but it's prohibitively expensive. Only Membrane Labs can afford lifters with a capacity over a pound. And even they can only lift half a ton at most."

"That doesn't matter," Gaz stated. "Our major items will either be researched here with us, shipped in from off world, or will be diverted to Membrane Labs for development."

On her GameSlave, Zim's character was by his house holding a bottle of suntan lotion while pink bunnies approached with housewarming presents. She decided she didn't want to know and looked up from her game.

"Alpha, I went ahead and took the part-time job my Dad offered as head of Lab Security. It's a token position to represent the family more than anything, and I only have to put in a few hours a week to 'show the family crest.' So at lunch I called in and told them that new hires will spend their probationary period maintaining the perimeter at a storage site for shelved projects. They will stay outside the fence, and handle people trying to take shortcuts to the airport. I said if they let me down they would spend the rest of their contract at the 'science station' in Antarctica. It is so cold they will have to look at their ID to remember their gender. And that yes, that clause is in their contracts."

"Alright," Tak said. "Moving on. Project Toothpick is now ready for full production," she caught Tunaghost's raised eyebrow. "That is the 'dogfighter' cannon to be employed by the air wing." It appeared further explanation would be necessary. "No Irken will turn over our military technology to another species. It's hardwired into our PAKs. Basic civilian parts have more leniency. So I've been going through examples of what is readily available to Earth militaries for inspiration. It is all primitive and pathetically obsolete. And yet, there is a certain resourcefulness in utilizing such crude methods."

Tunaghost looked totally perplexed now. Tak went on. "Nearly every space faring race uses very high end and restricted technologies in their arsenals. Focuses for naval units are mostly energy weapons or guided ordinance with AI evasive subroutines. And correspondingly, defenses such as plasma and particle reflective armors, heat dissipation sinks along the hull, polarization fields, repulsion beams to prevent larger impacts from smart warheads and so on. The list is almost endless. But it is all directed at countering the most advanced weapons available."

Tak let out a mischievous grin. "We are going to circumvent all that with the low end approach. For close range fighter combat our Earth planes are going to be equipped to fire these."

The General held up a small clear cylinder suspending within it what appeared to be some form of fastening bit for a hand drill, made of silvery metal and about as half as long as her middle finger.

Tunaghost gazed at the object in her hand. "What is that? A bullet? Won't it be too slow for space and just bounce off if it hit? Even steel and Kevlar can resist bullets."

Tak continued her grin, and keyed up a wireframe image of a complex looking multi-barrel cannon on the wall's display. "This is not a bullet per se. It is a self-sharpening, pyrophoric and iridium jacketed, depleted uranium flechette. Fired from a graviton based rail gun tied into the fusion engine, with variable muzzle velocities for atmospheric or vacuum operations. But projectile speeds can exceed mach 25.

"Each round consists of twelve such penetrators, and each cannon fires three thousand shots per minute. A small plasma burst injected from the fusion engine behind each shot can cause the flechettes to expand and spread out along their flight path. Or for more precision the plasma injector can be switched off. With the inertial dampening system in each plane, the space previously used for primitive jet fuel can now be used for magazines. It is ugly, barbaric, and primitive. But it will be effective because instead of trying to overpower an aggressor's defense technology with energy beams or exotic explosives, this will simply shred light spacecraft with hundreds of pinpoint kinetic energy impacts. In later years we will develop something more proper, but in the meantime…"

Tunaghost, as well as Alpha and Echo looked at Tak with worried expressions at the word uranium. "Uh, Tak? Tunaghost asked. "Isn't that, you know-" she said pointing at Tak's abdomen. "-radioactive?"

Tak put the cylinder away. "Slightly, and the material is also toxic. Which is why they are coated in an iridium casing and this example contained in an isolating material. We have means to deal with such hazards during production and storage. Safety containment will not be neglected. After space combat it will also become a severe navigation hazard, but our Spittle Runners can fly around such a debris zone and deploy drones to match speeds and recover materials. Nothing beyond our current capabilities.

"Ordinance production will be a problem. Our shuttles can go out to the asteroids and bring back some supplies of raw iridium. Earth sources are impossibly rare. We could even bring back raw uranium. But we did not equip ourselves for real mining and molecular level refining to develop the depleted form, and neither my Dib nor Lady Gaz wish us to take risks damaging the local area with processing." She lightly touched her abdomen. "I can't say I blame them."

Gaz interrupted. "When we're more established, I'll just buy a old mining ship. Then we can do all sorts of stuff out in the asteroid belt, beyond Earth laws and bureaucracy." She looked at her brother. "And without damaging the planet. Happy, Dib?"

Her brother nodded.

"So, I'm curious. Where are you going to get such material?" Tunaghost asked. The SEN would have had objections to processing transuranic materials as such a process was used in developing traditional weapons of mass destruction. It was a controversial subject among humans.

Gaz sighed. She hated how humans could make things so complicated. Sure she could smuggle in all kinds of stuff, but Dib would no doubt end up saying something to Tunaghost and the SEN would get in a hissy fit. It would be less aggravating to procure such things locally. Gaz pressed a button on her wristwatch. Professor Membrane's head appeared in the tiny display.

"Why hello, daughter," he said in greeting. "I am very busy right now, so I can't talk."

"It's okay dad," Gaz sighed again. "I just need some material for a project we're working on. Do you think you can get some, uh, depleted uranium for me?"

"Why sure!" her father said as he examined a test tube. "Anything to help you develop an interest in SCIENCE! How much do you need?"

"Umm, say four tons?" Gaz asked.

"Not a problem," Professor Membrane exclaimed. "Just help yourself to the HazMat vault in the basement. The combination is '3.'"

"Wait," Gaz said in disbelief. "You keep uranium down in our basement?"

"Of course. A nuclear powered microwave needs fuel, just like any other device."

"We have a nuclear microwave?" she asked incredulously.

"Well naturally, daughter. A very busy man of SCIENCE like me can't wait five seconds for coffee! Well, I have to go now. See you in three months!"

The small display on her wrist blinked back to displaying the time. Gaz just shook her head. "Dib, I think you'd want to take a few of my Irkens and remove whatever toxic or dangerous compounds Dad left down there."

Dib nodded his head in compete agreement. Previously there would have been no way that he'd let any Irken anywhere near the basement lab. Even if they were here to defend the planet instead of invade it, keeping that basement secure from alien infiltration had been beaten (sometimes literally thanks to Zim) into his mind throughout his childhood. But with a baby on the way, he had fatherly concerns on his mind. Their child was from two different species. Birth defects were a constant concern for both Dib and Tak regardless of how many scans were taken to reassure them. There was no question that their house was going to be empty of anything that could increase that concern. Even if Dib had to have help from Zim himself, so be it.

Tak watched her young human husband get up and leave the room. "Which leads us to Project Lancelot. Zim?"

"Huh?" Zim responded, looking up from his game slave. Gaz nudged him in the ribs with a hidden elbow. "Right," he said, keying up the wall display. It showed a wireframe view of a missile, coming apart to show components and pieced back together. "You are not at a point of developing human crewed weapons platforms that can be armed with traditional energy weapons such as a primary or even secondary level plasma cannon, meson disruptors and particle beams. Therefore, at General Tak's insistence for a fighter deployed system, Zim has developed this different approach."

Zim gestured to the display with pride. "To engage light warships or small escort ships with the fighters developed here would be result in massive casualties, and General Tak's anti-fighter cannon would require getting into point-blank range to saturate them with hits. Casualties would be very heavy resulting in loss of platforms for future sorties. Also penetrating heavy defensive armor of capital ships would require much heavier projectiles and is not practical with small craft.

"Therefore Zim has developed this missile system for a double standoff approach with… lasers," Zim said for dramatic effect.

It was lost on this audience.

Zim sighed and lectured further. "Combat lasers are largely ineffective. Anything that could contain and focus the EM radiation would also be deflected away from the target by reflective armor and chaff used by nearly every naval power. Higher energy states that could do real penetrating damage would mean the radiation energy would escape the resonance chamber, fry the crew managing it and melt the emitter. Other energy weapon systems that can make use of magnetic and various other containment fields are smaller in size, mass, easier to manage and operate, and far more durable for similar damage output."

The graphics on the display changed to indicate a squadron of fighters approaching a large target. "Your fighters would gain a firing solution of your target vessel, and launch from long range. With the mini-fusion engines Zim is using and the light weight of the unit, that range will be about a quarter of a million miles. They will then travel to their second standoff range. Normally an enemy would expect incoming missiles to begin evasive maneuvers to close for an impact on the hull. Before their anti-collision defenses have a chance, however, your missiles' fusion drives will self-destruct."

Zim could see the confusion in the eyes of the humans before him, and this pleased him. Well, not Gaz's eyes. They were rolling with a 'just get on with it' expression before returning to her GameSlave to examine the abominable handiwork Zim had inflicted on a girly game.

The Irken continued with his presentation. "These missiles will take no evasive action, but instead line up for direct line-of-sight. The detonation of the fusion drive will of course vaporize the missile. But for a microsecond before it does, it's energy burst would pass through these resonance chambers. As it is destroyed in the explosion, it releases an X-ray laser beam into the target. It is BRILIANT!"

"Wait, wait," Tunaghost interrupted. "You are using a fusion bomb to pump a laser?"

"Well, it's much more complex than that," Zim said, annoyed that such a design was so simplified.

"I thought you agreed with the SEN to not have weapons of mass destruction, Zim," she said.

Zim got more annoyed. "Zim personally no longer has such weapons! Dib attested to that, and it was HUMILITATING. But that is not good enough? So now only humans can fabricate weapons of sufficient power to save your pathetic lives? Even though you CAN'T? Well, let me tell you, human. What you think of a destructive weapon down on the dirt is NOTHING out in space! These will be deployed by human pilots. Zim would be out in his Voot Cruiser with proper Irken weaponry covering them from interception! And it is an insult to ZIM to play worm-babysitter."

Gaz reached up and gently pulled on her Irken husband's arm. He was getting worked up again. "Tunaghost. You're investigators, not sold-" she stopped speaking as she saw Tak stand up.

"Agent Tunaghost, you apologize to myself and Zim," she commanded with narrow eyes and a growl. "This pathetic, backward planet is our home now. We may have titles, but we're still exiles. More importantly," she said holding a spot on her belly, "this is my daughter's homeworld. Just as much as it is yours. She will grow up in this environment, just like you. Grow up in your culture, just like you. Grow up among humans like you did. She will be native to this world just as much as you are. No matter what she may look like, part of her is human. Zim is doing his part in making sure her home planet won't be destroyed. Zim has a human wife. She's sitting right in front of you! If they have smeets, this will be their homeworld too. NEVER forget that."

Tunaghost bowed her head briefly. "I apologize for jumping the gun. But you have to admit that someone who spent years trying to destroy humanity and planning to use multi-megaton devices can be troubling."

"Anyway. Let's move on," Alpha said to break the tension. "Would these missiles do significant damage to enemy ships?"

"An individual hit would obliterate a small craft at standoff ranges. But they would be maneuverable enough to evade once the initial surprise wore off. An escort or patrol ship could take moderate damage, but would remain in action with redundant systems. Light warships? Perhaps armor damage and systems disruption as exposed gear and weapon emitters melt. A true capital ship would lose a bit of armor, but not really feel it.

"However," Zim continued, "one Harrier can carry twelve of these lighter X-ray laser missiles in single and dual racks, and a Warthog can carry twenty. With a full carrier strike, that is over one thousand three hundred anti-ship energy weapons in a single volley. That is not even counting the heavy version."

"A heavy version?" Echo asked.

"Oh yes," Zim replied, keying up a new graphic on the display. "For dealing with capital ships. At twenty feet, the heavier Warthog can only mount one torpedo. It is powered by a much larger fusion reaction, enhanced by surrounding graviton emitters creating a harmonic resonance buildup around the fusion chamber. It also has four repulsion fields focused inward to form a wedge around the warhead to channel more energy forward before it vaporizes. Essentially this weapon is powered by a microscopic supernova. This beauty fires a Gamma ray laser. It will punch into a Viral class cruiser like it's hull was made of your disgusting toilet paper."

Zim glared at Tunaghost. "You have no idea what a weapon of mass destruction even is. I do. It is my assignment to protect this miserable dirtball from them. And I am compelled as a bondmate to protect my Gaz-blossom living here. So leave dealing with them to the experts, little girl."