A/N: There is a lot of things happening in many locations all at the same time. Hopefully it won't be too confusing. This is what I was planning on all along, although not with this many elements. May the readers have mercy on my soul.
"You came down on Tunaghost a bit hard," Gaz commented as she and Zim left the conference room, falling behind Tak as they slowed in their walk.
Zim made no reply as they walked out into the corridor. Gaz pulled him to one side. "I think she deserved it. You gave up a lot of your pride when you and I went through your base and recycled your old projects and whatnot. Especially when Dib wouldn't just take your word for it. Or mine. I could tell it really galled you. But you didn't whine about it. At least not as much as you usually would."
Her husband let out a heavy sigh, and Gaz took him into an embrace, resting her head on his cheek. She felt Zim's arms circle around her also. "I was proud of you, Zim." The two remained close for a moment before she continued speaking again. "Zim? That missile thing you've been working on? That was really smart."
Her Irken husband pulled back a little to look into her amber human eyes. "Of course it was! I am ZIM!"
Gaz just smiled, and settled into a slight rocking side to side in their embrace. "I know you, Zim. I'm betting you racked your brain, came up with all sorts of outlandish ideas that would blow up in your face. Then came up with how to harness such a blowup into something feasible during our CWZ Walker runs on game night."
Zim of course said nothing to confirm this. Gaz went on. "And I know you well enough to know that you've been going all out building dozens of prototypes for Echo to test fire. Then, with Computer's help over the past few days, probably a couple hundred more by hand before switching to designing an automated assembly line to do the work for you. And you told Computer to shut up as least forty times."
The girl gave him a kiss on the cheek, discreetly before some other Irken could walk by and go into dry heaves at their affections. "And neither did you neglect me the whole time. You've pushed yourself pretty hard the past several days. Harder than you should. Why don't you go home and relax? Let out some of that stress you've accumulated. I'm sure when Dib and Tak take you home they would appreciate it if you said you needed Mimi to take Gir for a walk around your block a few hundred times."
"Zim doesn't need them to drive me to my base! Zim could just fly my Voot… Oh, yeah. Zim brought it in for an overhaul. Eight years with only routine maintenance was a bit much. So why can't you take me home, Gaz-blossom?" Zim asked slyly. "Wouldn't you like to come over? Perhaps watch one of your appallingly bad 'terror' movies?"
Gaz smiled at the thought and touched her forehead with Zim's. Irken antennae folded over her hair. "I wish I could, but I have to go to Dad's lab for a few hours tonight. Sign off on transfers and drill into the administrators that Lab Security is only to walk the perimeter and help keep the public out without asking any questions. They specialize in that you know, but it's good to drive the point home in person. Plus I have to do an essay for class on why spending money is actually saving money." She let out a huff of annoyance. "I think I'll just dictate it to Computer before I leave. And to think I thought I was done with stupid assignments," Gaz muttered.
She could sense Zim's disappointment. "I'll call when I get home, okay Zim? I miss you too. But tomorrow we'll have the whole day to ourselves. All you have to do is take the day off. We can cuddle up on your couch and have a movie marathon. Or rampage the CWZ server."
Zim looked at her. He liked spending quality time with Gaz. Even when she used him as a pillow to lean into. Perhaps especially when she used him as a pillow to lean into. But on the other hand, he did like rampaging through humans, even if it was in cyberspace. And Gaz would be there too. What to choose, what to choose… he thought.
Gaz looked back at Zim, knowing what was going on in his mind. She let out a slight and muffled laugh briefly, letting go of the embrace. "Yeah. I love you too, Zim." The purple haired girl walked away, waving good-bye over her departing shoulder. "Now go home."
Alpha, Echo and Tunaghost kept out of sight in the conference room. Intruding into your bosses' space to get past them in a narrow corridor while they were being affectionate had a way of making people uneasy. And when it was your bosses' interspecies fondness being demonstrated? Well, that was a good time to make one's self comfortable behind solid objects.
Tunaghost peeked an eye past the open door, making sure the coast was clear. It was not. And she was overhearing everything. "They truly love each other, don't they?" she whispered.
"Yeah," Alpha replied in his own whisper. He turned to the SEN agent. "Look, it's no secret that Zim doesn't like us humans. Probably never will. And Zim is a lot of things. A lot of them not good. But he is loyal. To a fault. Their PAKs are programmed for that. I read that in your own SEN reports." Tunaghost looked at him. "Yes, Dib briefed us on a lot of things, and I like to know who I'm working for."
Alpha looked at Echo for a moment, and returned his attention to the SEN agent standing next to him. "Look around. Military base. Build up of weapons, equipment, even warplanes for a carrier force. Could make a person nervous. But you know what this place is once you pull back the cover story?"
Tunaghost only looked at him with a questioning look. "It's a prison. A leper colony. And the only bars are Zim's own loyalty in his mission. Yes, he has no loyalty toward us. But that loyalty applies to an even greater extent toward that wife of his. The other Irkens are the same. They follow a human, Tunaghost, and she can keep them in line. But look around. It's even more than that. They are devoted to their Lady. She's tough, but honest and responsible toward they're welfare. The opposite of what they've always had. But they don't see her as a Human Lady. They see a human that's their Irken Lady. And they are loyal to her. None of them can ever return. They are… well, contaminated because of it."
"Hey, Colonel," Echo whispered. "When did you get to be so smart?"
Alpha laughed as silently as he could. "I didn't. My wife clues me in. She likes to listen and people watch. Help them with their problems. You learn a lot doing that." He turned back to Agent Tunaghost. "So let them do their jobs. This won't ever be their home. But it's their Lady's home. And they won't take to kindly to anyone who comes in to mess with it. That includes their own people."
"So," Echo whispered as he peeked out the door. Gaz was just now walking away, with Zim following behind her. "Agent Tunaghost, what have you learned since you came in to all this?"
"I know one thing," she replied quietly. "An Irken's bond is instinctively sacrosanct in a bondmate's eyes. You hear about how it's a bad idea to get between a baby bear and it's mother? Imagine Mama Bear packing a nuclear powered tank with a few hundred other bears bringing up the rear."
"Right." Echo glanced at his watch, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Uh, ma'am. You're shuttle will be ready in about ten minutes to take you back home. I'm on alert duty pretty soon, so I can escort you up top to the hanger," the pilot said, waving toward the open door with his hand.
Alpha walked out of the elevator and back into the control tower feeling drained. Lim was the only other one there this evening. The marine officer had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't commanding the base's Irken contingent. He was teaching them how to act in the role of "Tallers" by example. The only human taller they recognized was Lady Gaz. The Irkens would listen to instructions given, but a human didn't command. Which was odd, since the two often sounded the identical. General Tak was the commanding officer. Alpha just filled in when Tak went home. He may be Captain of the Doomwind, but it had served it's purpose for now and was essentially sitting in storage.
But after three weeks, it seemed everyone was settling in. Granted, the Human and Irken personnel were still feeling their way through working in concert. There was grumbling here and there, but also recognition that there were some things each could do that the other side couldn't. And could be very useful.
Irken "Mantis" teams were light, quick, agile, not to mention small targets, and their built-in technology made them formidable. What they were training to do in Tak's hand-to-hand drills with eight natural and cybernetic limbs was incredible. And they were smart. But anyone would be with a computer wired into their nervous system. They had sharp teeth and functional claws. Those cybernetic spider limbs could be sharp too, not to mention function as a light energy weapon. They could stay functional in their duties for nearly seventy two hours without sleep. An Irken had a better sense of smell, and healed very fast.
Human "Gorilla" teams were pretty much the opposite. Slow and lumbering. But they were big with much greater body mass to work with. When they made contact, they made contact hard. They could operate in all weather conditions and Earth environments practically naked, without complex technology and their detectible power sources. Humans had endurance when technology failed or was damaged. A human didn't need to return to base for maintenance, but could crash out for a few hours under a handy log or cardboard box. In a pinch they could hunt for food and thrive on it. While it took a long time to heal from injuries, a human didn't have a single organ to be damaged. Some organs even had duplicate backups.
Humans didn't have much in natural offensive weaponry like Irkens did. Blunt teeth and nails. But those five fingers, along with raw body mass, gave them a certain dexterity and power with using knives and improvised weapons. And humans with their larger mass could carry much bigger weapon systems if it ever came to fighting on the ground.
The demonstration Alpha, Bravo and Charlie had put on two weeks ago at the lake about attacking an opponent from underwater, silent and unseen, and dragging said opponent back into the depths had left an impression on many Irkens. Alpha had the feeling it was similar to when humans saw the movie Jaws. Especially when water had that acidic quality on their audience's minds.
Now imagine combining the two. General Tak had done so.
Like throwing an Irken as an improvised sentient weapon in 'unarmed' combat drills? Well, it was scary having an Irken hurling at your face like an eight-limbed screaming football, all sorts of sharp pointy areas filling the air, with a yelling human wrecking ball charging in his wake seeking a center-of-mass collision.
Alpha let out a deep breath, clearing his mind. He hadn't seen much of his wife lately, covering the evening and graveyard watches while sleeping during the morning when General Tak came on duty. His wife often had her group sessions in the afternoon too, while he was on call during his 'off hours' reading up on naval strategy and carrier operations. Or looking over combined-species drills along side General Tak after lunch. Nether side may have liked those, but the possibilities couldn't be denied.
So Alpha was looking forward to the weekend. He and his wife could take the commute shuttle back to England and their little house while Colonel Beed, Major Lim and other Irkens got some military command experience in. It was safe enough as most humans had the weekend off, and even on the base things slowed down. There would be no significant food or material deliveries, commuter traffic trying to get to the airport through the base, ect. Minimal public interaction. Plus they had Computer to fall back on, and Tak and Gaz to call if something came up.
Yes, it had been a long, long week. Again. Spending some time at home with the wife to just enjoy the peace and quiet would be nice.
Zim ran a final diagnostic on the electromagnetic actuators in the left leg of his vintage Irken Scout Walker. All the lights were green on the plug-in device. He let out a sigh, looking up at the armored vehicle standing in his base's cramped fabrication bay feeling a sense of pride. His Scout Walker was one of the few left in existence, most having been scrapped four centuries ago. It had taken years just to find or fabricate parts for this restoration project. But it was now finished.
Standing ten feet tall on two thick legs, weighing in at twelve tons and colored dark red and black. The cockpit in the control pod was open, inviting. Naturally a museum and Zim's definition of mint condition differed a bit.
So it's power cell in the waist's drive section was fully charged. The fusion turbines in the 'backpack' compartment were fueled. The ammunition guide to feed rounds from the storage tank behind the pilot to the antique, but functional, autocannon on the right arm was lubricated; running a string of large caliber penetrators into the quad-barreled magnetic slugthrower. The left forearm was bulkier by comparison, with a rotating five round magazine wrapped around it to feed a small anti-armor missile tube centered inside the arm pod.
Zim retracted the leads to the scanner he held. It had not been easy by any means, but he had prevailed. Even finding a single missile old enough for the left arm magazine had been a challenge. But Computer had found some primitive blueprints on the human's internet that had given Zim some ideas. The Irken looked up at the armored hulk again. It was an old, but well thought out design. Even better than a MegaDoomer in some ways. For one, the missile racks weren't surrounding the pilot. So a secondary explosion from a hit wouldn't be catastrophic to the driver.
The Irken climbed up a ladder to the top of the machine carrying a small basket, smiling. Neither he nor Gaz had shown Dib this room when he had observed Zim's 'house cleaning.' The doorway had been plastered with a sign reading 'Gir's Taco Collection - Year one through five.' Dib wouldn't have appreciated Zim's collector's piece, and probably would have insisted on keeping it at the new base at the very least.
He leaned over and pressed a few buttons in the cockpit, starting a warm-up and system wide diagnostic check. Once the humming began, Zim reached into the basket and pulled out a cloth and a bottle of Irken Tank Wax. The Irken whistled a happy tune as he began polishing his pride and joy.
Gir and Mimi traveled along the sidewalk in their disguises. Mimi held Gir's leash in her mouth as she dragged Gir along his back down the concrete path. The sound of tacos being ravaged was clearly audible while the paper and rather greasy bag resting on Gir's belly was slowly emptied.
Only six hundred and thirty four more laps to go, Mimi thought to herself. Not only did she have to baby-sit Gir all day every workday, but now she had to walk the insane robot too? Mimi sadly shook her head.
"Oh, look at that!" A neighbor cooed from a front porch as they went by. "A kitty walking a doggy! How CUTE!"
"She's my girlfriend," Gir replied.
Mimi threw up a lug nut.
Naturally the human neighbor noticed nothing amiss.
'I am not your girlfriend!' Mimi radioed at Gir with a hateful glare as she continued to drag the dog costumed robot down the sidewalk.
"Aren't you a girl?" Gir asked innocently, munching away at his dwindling supply of tacos.
Mimi stopped, sitting down in regal cat position. She looked back at Gir. 'Well. Sort of,' she silently said over the radio waves.
"And aren't you my frieeeeeend?" Gir asked pleadingly. The disguised robot sat up and gazed at her, looking like he was about to cry.
Mimi scowled back at him. 'My Mistress ordered me to keep an eye on you,' she radioed.
"Yeaaaaaa!" Gir cheered.
Mimi let out a robotic sigh with a shake of her head. She hated to admit it, but this was much better than being back home when her Mistress and human 'Master' were alone. Whatever had happened that one night had caused her to delete that memory sector. Something about a closed door and being trapped under their bed for some reason. She had slept downstairs on the couch ever since.
"Awwwww. Looks like someone needs a hug!" Gir exclaimed, crushing himself against Mimi's sitting pose.
Mimi screeched a hiss, trying to get away. 'Gir! You're crushing your tacos! I'm covered in grease!' her radio wail pulsed out. Twin robot thrusters popped out past her holographic disguise and she rocketed away with Gir dangling behind on his leash like a leaf in the wind. Laps around the block flashed by. 'When this is done, I'm taking you through a car wash. You'll see!'
"Carnival ride!" Gir squealed.
Dib and Tak sat at home on the couch before the blank TV, the Irken wearing sweatpants and a sweater with a hole cut in the back for her PAK. She didn't have many clothes tailored for her yet, but she had felt like getting out of her fatigues.
Charlie and five disguised Irkens had driven away in the base's flatbed truck an hour ago. Dib had overly micromanaged the removal of anything hazardous to their developing smeet from the basement lab. Small floating cargo lifters had made the task easy, and isolation foam contained the casks of toxic materials. Afterward Tak had gone through the house with a particle sniffer to ensure there had been no contamination. She had also insisted that Dib take several showers just in case. He was similarly attired as well.
She had her own disguise switched off, and was resting comfortably into Dib as his arms held her lightly from behind. Tak held a tiny outfit spread out on her abdomen, looking at it.
It was a little one piece thing, with miniature arms, legs and footies. Pink, with a white chest and a purple cartoonish 'alien' face printed on the front with cute antennae curled to either side.
"Dib?" Tak asked.
Dib rubbed a few fingers back and forth across the forearm of the Irken he held in reassurance. "I know, Tak. I know.
They had both seen the little article of clothing at the baby outlet store in the mall during lunch. It seemed acceptable according to the Earth coloring traditions Dib had described. The disarming cartoon face reflected so many different things. Dib's lifelong interest in the paranormal. Tak being an extraterrestrial. An innocent life from two worlds.
They hadn't opened the package until they had gotten back home, and had some privacy after the basement had been cleared of hazardous materials. But now that pair of little baby pajamas was draped over where their developing child rested within Tak's egg sac.
It made things very real to them. Maybe 'real' wasn't the right word. They knew of course. Accepted what the scans said. But there was a difference between knowing and holding a tangible something for a tiny humanoid form in your hands. Perhaps 'solidified' was a better term.
They had known they were going to become parents. But now they realized that they already were parents. And the day would come when their child would wear this little outfit, and be held just as they now held each other.
"Not much of a date, is it?" Tak asked. "And we don't get the house to ourselves often."
Dib gave the Irken a gentle squeeze. "It's perfect, hun." He turned her face to look at him with two fingers. "We can just be together, the three of us. Maybe we can think of what to call her."
Dib leaned forward, tilting his head around Tak's body. "What do you think in there?" He asked into his Irken wife's front. "How do you like Jessica?"
Tak snorted. "Jees'ca is what Nardhogs say when they step in their own dookie."
Gaz drove her Jeep down the unfamiliar avenue. She knew the way to her father's Lab from her house very well. She also knew the way to the new base from her house too. That one was fairly easy as numerous signs along the highway pointed out the off ramp to take to reach the airport. But this was the first time she was taking the route from the base to Membrane Labs.
She drove along carefully down the wide roadway. Traffic was light as the sun set. It had taken longer than she planned to dictate her regurgitated essay to Computer and send it via email to her community college. She rather would have gone on at length to demolish the stupidity of it all. But it would have only earned her a black mark with professors who thought they understood how the world worked while they never ventured out from their classrooms, safe from reality.
The early evening shower had let up, but her old Jeep still occasionally splashed through a puddle. Up ahead a construction company was repairing an overhead skywalk between two tall buildings. Scaffolding covered the area in that direction, and braces attached to a pillar in the middle of the road. It looked like they were repaving the avenue and ran their machine into the supporting pillar.
Gaz shook her head and let out a breath of annoyance as she made a turn following the detour sign diverting traffic to another avenue. It seemed that they had torn up pavement along the whole road for nearly a mile in preparation. Maybe she would mention to her Dad the need for a device that would grind up asphalt, recycle it, and repave the street all in one machine.
As she made her turn along side the scaffolding, something dropped down and smacked onto the hood of her Jeep with a loud WHAM! A large nail gun bounced off the hood and clattered down onto the empty sidewalk with the attached hose snaking down along with it. Gaz hit the brakes, stopping in the middle of the road. She wasted no time hopping out.
Gaz looked up and saw some worker in yellow reflective overalls hanging from the above scaffolding by his safety line. "Hey!" she yelled pointing at the hood of her Jeep. The setting sun's glare clearly showed a large dent in the hood along with some smaller ones. She saw no visible way up to the catwalk above, and besides, if she was going to bring doom to his world she'd have to haul his sorry body back up.
The angry girl looked for a more convenient target. "You!" she pointed at a man in a business vest with the construction company's logo on the breast and wearing a white hard hat. "You see what your moron did to my Jeep?" Gaz stomped right into the foreman's face. "You'd better pay for that!"
The supervisor waved up to the man dangling in midair. "We'll settle it later, Miss. I need to go pull my man back up. I'm not paying him to not work." He moved to walk away.
He was spun back around, and a pain shot up his leg as a steel toed boot came down on his brown Italian loafers. "He's fine," the girl's menacing voice growled. "One of his co-workers can haul his sorry rear back up. You on the other hand are teetering on the edge of a whole new world of doom. That thing could have come through my roof and HIT ME! You really think that I'm letting you brush me off?"
"Fine! Whatever!" the supervisor cried, limping back. Her fiery eyes felt like they were burning into his weak, empty soul. "We'll take care of it." He reached into his jacket for a business card and a pen.
The man wrote something quickly down on the back and handed it to Gaz. "Send the bill with my card to the office, and they will send it to our insurance company. My authorization is on the back. Now please will you just go now? Your car is holding up traffic!"
Gaz swiped the card with a threatening growl and stormed off back into her Jeep. As she closed the door, another heavy tool fell onto the car behind her. She shook her head as she drove off.
"Maybe I should have Zim pay them a visit." She shrugged off the fanciful thought. "Nah, he'd just set things on fire and get into trouble." She looked at the card, then put it in her pocket. "Non-union, huh? Maybe an anonymous tip off to the Teamsters will do."
As Gaz drove along she forced herself to simmer down. She wasn't worried about the bill. If she wanted, she could order half a dozen high performance sports cars on one of Computer's credit cards. It was the principle of the matter that was relevant.
Alpha crouched down beside Major Lim as she watched on her displays. "Colonel?" Lim asked, pointing to the scene. "I would have thought that we would at least alert a squad to-"
"To what?" Alpha interrupted kindly. "Go in with a shuttle to land on the street and put down heavily armed ambassadors of good will? Don't you think that would be a bit conspicuous? And one of the SUV's would get there long after Lady Gaz took care of things." He patted the back of the Irken's chair, knowing she would not appreciate being touched on the shoulder like he would a human. "Accidents happen, Major, and this isn't Irk. We can't go in with guns ready every time she stubs her toe. And that would just tick her off too. You know how she doesn't like being baby-sat."
Alpha straightened, stretching his back. "Lim, there are no easy solutions in a balancing act like this. All you can do is make guesses at what could be needed, and be ready when it is. You're doing fine." He turned away, speaking behind his shoulder. "But Lady Gaz's safety is not my job, Lim. You're manning the board, not me. If it feels right to you, have some support ready when Lady Gaz is traveling. Now what do you think that would be?"
Lim pondered silently for a moment. "Four Irkens. Disguises, light arms in one of your 'SUV's.' But we'll need a human driver for moving through Earth traffic. When Lady Gaz arrives home, stand down."
"Sounds like a good plan," Alpha complemented the Irken. "So make it happen."
Alpha walked back to the armorglass view of the control tower as Major Lim pushed a button on her panel. "Third Squadron, First section. Report to the Motor Pool. Light gear only and disguises. Dress for rain. Stand By Alert in case Lady Gaz requires assistance. None expected."
"Very good, Major," Alpha said to the Irken behind him. "Mind if I ask why not someone from First Squadron? Your PAKs are the… most conditioned." He wasn't sure how it worked or how to be polite about inquiring.
"Simple," Lim answered with pride, never taking her eyes off her display. "If we do have to go in heavy, it should be us to do so. We are her Governor's Own. The First Guard." She paused in thought for a moment. "But technically I suppose we should be called her Lady's Own."
Some how that answer didn't reassure Alpha, but he did understand that pride. The Queen's Guard back home was the same way. "Alright. How about you order Lieutenant Bravo to be their driver? He's been grumbling about the workload we're under more than he should. Let's give him some light duty for a bit."
Lim looked back at the human gazing out at the view. "Somehow I don't think that is exactly what he had in mind."
Alpha chuckled. "I know. But he knows that he ought to be careful of what he wishes for."
The tall buildings gave way to shorter and more run-down construction. Trash on the street increased, and the sporadic parked cars on the narrower roadway she was driving on were increasingly missing hubcaps, hood ornaments, and an occasional window. Gaz drove past a police car jacked up on blocks, wheels missing, and the officers inside fast asleep.
Gaz looked in her mirrors. There was very little traffic behind her, no doubt due to the rain of construction equipment she had left behind. She shook her head. No doubt some overpaid and underbrained planner had just looked at a road map and drew a detour line straight between two main traffic arteries, not bothering to examine what it ran through.
This street was narrow as Gaz drove on, trying not to see the local view. Parking was virtually non existent along the road, with dumpsters and garbage cans waiting for their overdue pickup and multistory dirty brick buildings hugging the sidewalk. Gaz groaned at the sight of a crazy man in a muddy trench coat selling stolen hamsters stuffed in his inner pockets. And the line of customers waiting to buy.
I never figured out why Dib needed to save this planet, Gaz thought to herself. But she was honest enough to admit that there were a few things that weren't deficient. And it wasn't like everybody was dirty and incompetent. The girl sighed, looking at her left hand gripping the steering wheel and the clearly visible wedding ring. I guess I shouldn't complain, she smiled fondly to herself. Zim has many flaws too, but somehow he's the one that measures up. And he'll never stop trying to measure up. Even when he gets on my nerves, I still love him. Gaz let out a brief laugh at the dirty surroundings passing by. Yeah, Zim is a lot of things, but at least he's clean.
A warning light lit up on her dashboard, and Gaz checked her gauges. The engine was running hot for some reason. She growled at the happenstance. This was not the time for something like this! The girl looked around. Unless she was willing to run over several garbage cans, there was not really any place along the road to pull over.
Gaz drove another block, and pulled a short way into a narrow alley, off the road. That there was little traffic didn't mean there was none at all, and she couldn't block the street. She opened her door and stepped out, groaning at the faint wisps of steam crawling out from under her Jeep's hood.
A quick overview showed the head of a nail embedded in the hood where the deepest dent was. She hadn't seen it or the steam due to the glare of the setting sun. Gaz mumbled angrily to herself as she reached back in under the dashboard and pulled the hood release.
"Colonel Alpha?" Lim called, watching a view the surveillance drone was transmitting back to her display. "I think Lady Gaz's vehicle is suffering mechanical defects."
Alpha stepped over and examined the scene. The Jeep was parked a short distance in a rather dirty alley, and Lady Gaz was about to lift the hood. "Looks like you made a good call, Major Lim," Alpha remarked. "Now would be a good time to roll out your stand by team."
Lim nodded, keying her controls. "Lieutenant Bravo, Lady Gaz is having trouble with her vehicle. Proceed to 127th Street and Sukkel Lane to lend assistance as required."
Gaz lifted the hood, and a moderate hot blast of steam shot out, causing her to cough lightly as she secured the hood in the upright position. Steam gushed from a puncture in a radiator hose, and was steadily losing pressure. Gaz swore to herself a few times. It looked like when that nail gun had hit her Jeep it had impacted hard enough to misfire, punching a 16p nail through the sheet metal hood and into the radiator hose. The embedded nail had sealed the hole to a certain extent, but it had been steadily losing coolant. Now scalding steam was rapidly escaping from the puncture.
Gaz weighed her options. There was no way to plug the leak without burning herself, and it still wouldn't stop it. Driving on with a dry radiator would ruin the engine. It wasn't significant enough to call a tow truck.
The girl made her way back around to the rear of the Jeep. Once the back door was swung open, she retrieved her emergency kit. Gaz dug around for a minute.
She heard heavy footsteps behind her, and the girl looked over her shoulder. There were two men standing in the alley entrance, slowly walking her way.
"Hey there, Miss," the shorter one said. "Looks like you're having some car trouble."
Gaz turned to face them, giving them an eye. The one speaking was wearing a black turtleneck, and faded jeans. A typical and forgettable appearance. The taller one was rather muscular, wearing sunglasses, black combat boots, a wide and faded military surplus T-shirt, and sporting a goatee. Gaz went and sat back onto the rear bumper of her Jeep, bring her left boot up across her knee as if to check her bootstraps.
"That's pretty observant of you," Gaz muttered fiddling with her boot. "Maybe you should apply for a detective's job."
The shorter man laughed. "Oh come now. Is that any way to talk back to a pair of concerned citizens? It's a rough neighborhood, you know. Even if you manage to patch up whatever is wrong with it, it looks like you'll need to get some water for it. There is a liquor store around the corner where you can buy some, but leaving your car unattended would be a bad idea. We're just offering to watch it for you. To, you know, make sure nothing happens to it? For a small fee of course."
"Sorry," Gaz sneered. "I don't have cash on me. And I have coolant," she said, dragging out a container of antifreeze and putting it on the ground. She wasn't some stupid girl who wasn't prepared.
The talkative man sat down on a nearby wooden crate. "It still could use a water mix. That antifreeze is just an additive. Won't protect your engine like a mixture would." He scratched his chin, pretending to think. "Why don't you lend my associate your credit card? He'll go get a gallon from the store, and I'll make sit here to make sure he comes back."
Right, so you can run it through a reader and make a copy later? No thanks, Gaz thought. "I'll make due with what I have. After all, it just has to get me to a gas station."
The talking man began to grow visibly impatient. "Listen, Missy. I'm trying to be nice here, but my associate isn't very understanding. Why don't you just hand over your jewelry and we don't take your car to a chop shop. We don't need to worry about melting the engine."
"Are you kidding me?" Gaz sputtered. "My necklace is-" she broke off before she put her foot in her mouth. The bonding necklace could never come off, even if she wanted to give it up. The ring on her finger alone was worth more than the Jeep she drove by at least a factor of two. The skull necklace? "-from my husband when we eloped. You don't want the skull one. It's only value is sentimental, the only thing I have of my mother. And my wedding ring? It's unique enough to trace, and you don't want my husband to track you down."
The muscle man stepped forward, approaching Gaz. "Somehow I'm not convinced," he said in a condescending voice, cracking his knuckles.
"You don't know my husband," Gaz spat back with venom. She crouched down fingering her other boot as if to check the laces as the brainless muscle approached closer. "And you don't know me."
The muscled man took another step forward, his shadow draping over the girl. Gaz's left fist shot out, connecting with his groin, her fingers wrapped around a set of brass knuckles. It wasn't a direct impact, nor was that her intent knowing how dangerous knuckles were, but it certainly caused pain. She then launched up from her crouch, jamming the top of her skull straight into the man's lower jaw.
As she spun around the collapsing thug her right arm snapped forward, and a solid thunk echoed between the speaking man's legs. He looked down as Gaz finished her spin and landed a smack to his associate's skull with an open palm, then pulled back the muscled man's hair and delivered her watch-wearing forearm to the face, sparing him the lethal knuckles in that hand. The talking one gulped. Between his own spread legs was a quivering switchblade sunk into the wooden crate he sat on. He looked back up as the girl approached, and his associate lay in a puddle moaning, rubbing his head and holding his crotch.
Gaz glared into his eyes as she stalked forward, reaching down to retrieve the knife out of the crate. His own eyes tracked her hand as it reached forward and yanked back the thrown weapon. One hand held the black handle while the other hand, wearing those illegal brass knuckles snug against her wedding ring, folded the blade back in place.
His eyes tracked back up the girl, past her neckline and into her face. She spoke. "It seems the sun was in my eyes. My aim was a bit low. This time."
She backed away. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood. I could have sent your associate to the hospital at the very least. Now do yourself a favor. Pick up your friend and go away. Maybe I won't tell my husband about this."
Alpha chuckled at the scene displayed on Lim's monitor. "See, Major? Your Lady can take care of herself. And she's smart. Bravo and the relief team will be there soon, but I think Lady Gaz will be on her way before they get there." Lim looked dubious. "I know. You want to send in an assault shuttle armed to the teeth. But she didn't call one in, did she? She could if she felt it was necessary."
"I still don't like this situation," Lim declared.
"I don't think any of us do," Alpha replied. "If you have another drone out there, I'd keep an eye on those two hoodlums until Lady Gaz clears the area."
"Master," Computer spoke up.
Zim lifted his head from his work on top of the Scout Walker, the main body shining a bright polish. "What is it now? Can't you see Zim is trying to relax?"
"Yes, Master," Computer confirmed with a cybernetic shake of the head. "But Mistress has had an altercation with two human males after having difficulties with her vehicle. She has injured one of them, and both are in retreat."
Zim squinted his eyes as he shook his head and put down the bottle of Tank Wax. He had offered on more than one occasion to refurbish an older Irken Armored Personnel Carrier suitable for an Irken Lady. But Gaz had just given him one of her looks that a human would translate as 'I love an idiot.' Zim had also suggested retrofitting her aging Jeep. That had merely earned him a scowl. The next day, upon asking Dib why his sister wasn't being sensible, Dib had mentioned that perhaps it was just that time of the month and he had better get used to it. Zim had computer check Gaz's calendar, and there was no mention of any blocks of time set aside for extra irritability to excellent ideas. Humans could be so confusing.
Zim climbed down to the floor and walked over to the equipment along the walls. He ordered Computer to transfer anything he had on the altercation to the display in front of him. Obviously there was a surveillance drone in the area, or Computer wouldn't have known anything had involved Gaz specifically.
As he watched the replay, Zim began laughing at the stupidity of these human thugs. What did they expect from a human so exceptional that she could become ZIM's bondmate? Cower like a pathetic worm-baby? HA!
The replay finished quickly, and the display showed Gaz pulling items out of a box in the back of her Jeep, and then walking around to the engine housing. "Master. Major Lim has sent out a team to assist the Mistress. They are approximately fifteen minutes away."
Zim wanted to go too, but he currently had no transportation. The Voot Cruiser was back at the new base with half it's parts removed. On the other hand Gaz was most capable, as was just demonstrated, and had not called for help. She had a rather independent streak in her brainmeat too. But things seemed under control, and help was enroute. It was probably better that way. If Gaz got angry for someone showing up as if 'she needed a babysitter and couldn't take care of herself', it wouldn't be Zim.
"Computer, continue to monitor," Zim commanded as he climbed back up on top of the armored machine. Polishing a twelve ton walker took time, and he was only halfway through.
"Very well, Master," Computer replied in a tone. Computer was a bit… concerned however. Although his Mistress was in the clear, Computer had not been able to establish a communication link with Mistress' wrist device. But he had three stealth drones in the area now, keeping watch.
The man that had done the speaking helped his associate down on the sidewalk four blocks away. The muscled man was still objecting to being beat up by a young girl. And the bloody nose which had stopped, several lost fillings, the pounding headache and aching teeth. Not to mention his very sore nether-regions .
The one who had done all the talking took out a cell phone and dialed a number. "Hey Douglas! It's me. You know. Tink? You're going to make me say it, right? It's Mr. Tinkles. Shut up. I hate you too. Listen, get Nick on the line. Of course I do. I don't exactly call to chat about his grandma you know." There was a pause. "Nick! I may have something here. A quick snatch-n-grab. No, someone with car trouble wearing some real fancy jewelry. No, the girl is downright scary. But I think I can work something out. Yes, peacefully. I know you don't want attention, everything quick and quiet."
There was more pausing as he listened to the person on the other end. "She's got a ring that looks like it's worth seven grand minimum, but the jackpot is her necklace. The gem is half inch wide, perfectly clear, and get this. It's not faceted. A sphere without a single flat surface on the whole thing. If it's real I bet it can fetch a hundred grand easy. If it's not we'll settle for the ring and toss the necklace. What do you mean fifty percent? Your cut is usually ten and you just find buyers. That risky just to fence the thing? I'll go for twenty five percent. You know forty percent of nothing is zero, right? You don't even know if it's real yet. Right, I wouldn't be calling if I thought it was fake. Deal. Thirty on the necklace. But the ring is still ten."
The call ended, and the muscled man sitting on the sidewalk looked up at his associate. "You know the girl didn't even try to claim it was a fake, right?"
"Yeah," he said as he dialed another number. "But leave Nicky with some doubt and he'll settle for a lower cut. Hello? It's me. We got a job. Get here right now or we miss out. Yes I meant the crew. She beat up Vic here. But she's a smart one. She'll back down if it's obvious that's the only move she has. I just want to do this with as little fuss as possible."
Gaz covered the cooled hole in the radiator line with a healthy smear of her Dad's ultra-eternabond glue. She blew on it until it was tacky, inserted the nail that had caused the puncture, and started to wrap the hose with another invention. Giga-strength duct tape. The hose would have to be replaced anyway, and the patch should hold long enough under the pressure and heat to get her to a garage.
The girl lifted her head and looked down the other end of the alley. A SUV had pulled in, and four men had gotten out. They were similarly dressed in clothes that said 'I'm a thug' and were spreading a map out over the hood of their vehicle.
Riiiight, Gaz thought. And I'm Little Bo Peep. Men never stop for directions. She turned her attention back to the work at hand. The wrapping had to be done right. Wound tightly without bubbles or folds, but thickly along about eight inches of hose. Even then it would only hold for so long. Next she would have to dump the antifreeze into the radiator's small opening.
Gaz glanced at her watch. The face was shattered, and the display blank. Great, she thought. No calling for backup. Hopefully Zim's old surveillance drones were still up and in the area. She was starting to get nervous.
But the men at the other end were still pointing at the map and at various random directions. They hadn't made any move. So she could finish her work and drive away. It would only take a few more minutes.
"Colonel."
"I see them," Alpha told Lim as he watched over her shoulder. He reached up and thumbed his radio. "Bravo, please tell me your almost there."
Bravo's voice came back over the speaker. "Six, maybe seven minutes out. Problem?"
"Not sure. SUV and hoodlums blocking the far end of the Lady's alley. Suspicious, but may be a coincidence too. There isn't any other place to pull over at that spot."
"Somehow I get the feeling you don't think so," Bravo commented
Something in her other display caught Lim's eye. She watched it for a moment, then a part within her PAK designated the development as Ambush.
Lim's speaking altered into almost a sing-song chant as her PAK and her physiology made adjustments for potential fighting. "The aggressors previously defeated have been picked up by two more 'SUV's' and are moving toward Lady Gaz's position. Three blocks away and closing. Windows tinted, unknown numbers. Contacts designated as probable hostiles."
Alpha spoke again into his radio. "Bravo, floor it. We've got bad guys. Three SUV's, maybe a dozen men. Three blocks away." I don't get it. The neighborhood doesn't look that bad. What could they be after with those numbers?
"I'm running the red lights I can, but if I get in a wreck we won't get there at all."
Alpha nodded to himself. At least the Irkens with him are in disguise. He could claim he was driving his kids somewhere if they crash. He thought that because it was less disturbing than knowing they couldn't possibly get there in less than four minutes.
Lim seemed to think the same thing. The small Irken pushed a key. "First squadron, combat alert. No drill. Report to assault shuttle in hanger three, full gear. Multiple hostiles approaching Lady Gaz's location, intentions unclear. Her vehicle disabled. She is attempting repairs."
Alpha cautiously tapped the Irken seated before him. "Get Second Squadron on the move too, no gear. Disguises only," he advised. "The First may not have enough time to suit up." He looked at Lim's reflection in her display. It was tense. "You're one of the shuttle pilots, right Lim? Go. I'll man your board."
The Irken practically hurled herself out of her seat and toward the elevator. "Computer," Alpha called as he took Lim's position. "I need the morning shift coordinators here just in case things get busy."
He looked out at the airfield. The only thing he really had on hand that had both the speed and ready to go right now were Echo's alert fighters. But what could they do? Turn a few city blocks to dust? The street was too narrow and there were power lines in the way to land them if he ordered Echo's flight to go in on foot. Commuter traffic was approaching it's heaviest at the nearby airport too. If he ordered them in, how could somebody not notice? At least the shuttle could hover and troops repel down lines or use gravity distortion packs, or whatever they did. Or just fire a few warning shots if need be. If they were high enough people might think the bursts was lightning.
"Master."
Zim groaned. "What is it now?" He was now polishing one of the armored legs. There were so many crannies to get into. Access ports, hardened hydraulic and power lines within joints, not to mention the joints themselves.
"There are possible threats to the Mistress moving into her area. I cannot establish a link with her communications device. First and Second Squadrons are scrambling, and I am now opening the hanger for the assault shuttles."
Zim dropped the bottle of Tank Wax and the rag he was using, rushing over to one of the walls. "Computer, show me. This display."
A split view of Gaz's surroundings and of two earth vehicles driving down a road appeared. He wanted to be there right now! But he was stuck here without transport. It would take forever to walk. Even if he asked Tak for a ride, it would be too late. Even though Gaz's guard units were responding, it wasn't Zim on the way to his bondmate.
The Irken looked up to the Scout Walker. Computer spoke up. "I know what you are about to ask. No, the Walker is too big to fit through the transfer tunnels to the access tube for the Voot Cruiser."
"Why didn't you mention this sooner?" Zim cried out crossly.
"I did six years ago. You said, and I quote, 'I'll figure that part out later. I am-'"
"Shut up, Computer!"
Zim stepped away and climbed back up the ladder next to the Walker. The Irken, brooding, hauled himself into the cockpit. He needed to think. "Computer, transfer telemetry to the onboard system here."
The heads-up display and other screens flickered to life as Zim powered the Walker's electronic systems up. The scenes transmitted from the surveillance drones appeared on the HUD before Zim. It seemed all he could do was watch and he hated it.
Gaz felt she was almost done when she heard the squeal of brakes. She poked her head around the hood of her Jeep and swore. Two dark SUV's had pulled up, blocking the alley's entrance. The girl swore, angry with herself. She should have abandoned her Jeep and went into one of the nearby shops. But they were closed now. But at least she could have called someone. Maybe a tow truck. Or convinced a shop owner to stay open until Dib came to get her.
She swore again as she watched six figures exit the two vehicles, including two familiar ones. It looked like the drivers were staying inside the getaway vehicles. Gaz looked back the other way. The four down on the other end had stopped pretending. One was getting back in that SUV, but the other three were heading her way. Those had drawn weapons of some sort, pointed at the ground.
Gaz really swore now. She looked back again in the other direction. Those six were brandishing weapons too. Tazers of some type from the look of them. She took a breath and let it out as she stepped around the Jeep to face the 'leader.' If they were 'smart' enough to bring something that wasn't designed to be lethal like shotguns and uzi's to avoid serious jail time if things went bad, maybe she could still get out of here.
Mr. Tinkles didn't state his name or any stupid move like that, so Gaz would never learn it. He merely pointed his wildlife tazer at the girl, motioning with it. "We tried doing things the nice way last time. Now we go with the easy way. Take out your weapons slowly, and toss 'em."
As Gaz slowly tossed her switchblade and brass knuckles away, Mr. Tinkles admired his piece. He really liked his brand of tazer. PETA approved for stopping wildlife like small bears. It was considered more humane to use than a gun when a bear decided to try and eat you. The electric prongs were an inch long and sharp, and delivered a charge that could sizzle bacon. It was big too, adding to the intimidating factor. Almost like a submachine gun. Plus if things got ugly, it was quiet. Sure it would put a person in the hospital, but it didn't send the cops into a hissy fit like gunshot wounds or bodies did.
"You know what we want," Mr. Tinkles stated coldly as he pointing that tazer at Gaz's center of mass, gangster style. "So let's not have any trouble."
Gaz looked around with her hands up, playing it cool. She was covered from so many different directions. She sighed and dug into her pocket, pulling out her Jeep's keys. She threw them out in front of the leader. "Fine, take the stupid Jeep."
Tinkles just let out a scornful laugh. "Not the Jeep. Your jewels. Now."
"Computer, get me Air Traffic Control!" Alpha commanded. "Then alert General Tak. Get her back here on the double."
"Understood, Colonel Alpha. Air Traffic Control on the line."
"ATC manager Fred. Who is this?" A voice echoed through the ceiling speakers.
"This is Colonel Alpha, the Naval Air Base next door. We've got an urgent situation here, and are about to launch troop shuttles. We need a clear airspace when we do."
"Understood. I'll have my controllers hold all takeoffs on the taxi line, and the incoming flights at the outer marker. You'll have a clear five mile zone in six minutes."
Alpha swore to himself. We're just settling in, he thought. We weren't ready for a crisis. "Fred? Listen real good. You don't have six minutes. I need to launch yesterday."
Gaz fumed as the leader examined her wedding ring, then handed it to one of his men. "Nice. Worth more than I expected."
"My husband is going to utterly destroy you. You know that? I don't think he'll even settle for horrible experiments this time. I hope it is slow and painful."
"Yeah, right," Mr. Tinkles replied. He gestured with his tazer. "Now that fancy necklace you have."
Gaz looked back at him with wide eyes. "I can't."
"Oh don't be sentimental. Just hand it over and we'll be on our way. No one has to get hurt," the thug's leader snickered.
"I didn't mean I wouldn't. I said I can't. It's welded around my neck."
One of the men behind her reached over and pulled at the back collar of her dress. "Uh, boss? I think she's telling' the truth."
The leader groaned. Always a complication. "Alright then, go get the bolt cutters. We'll just have to cut it off her."
Gaz's face paled. The bonding necklace was Judgementian technology. Bolt cutters wouldn't even leave a scratch. But it would trigger the failsafe mechanism encoded within, cutting off her airway to enforce their legal status. These morons were going to kill her trying to get the necklace off, and weren't going to notice anything was wrong until she started turning blue. That left her with only one bad option. Pray for friendly fire.
Gaz jammed her elbow violently in to the stomach behind her and spun, grabbing a wrist of another as cries of warning rang out. The tazer in the wrist she held went off, its barbs shooting out with a trail of thin wire. Someone yelled and went down. Arms grabbed around her middle, and she slammed her head back into a face. Those arms released as another set grabbed her, trying to pull her down to the ground. Gaz sent the heel of her foot backward.
Alpha let fly some bad words as he hit a key on the control panel in front of him. "Assault shuttles launch now. Lady Gaz under attack."
Lim's voice answered back form the hanger. "We're loading up now. Reactor warming up. Forty five seconds to lift." Her voice sounded desperate.
"Bravo," Alpha called over the communications net this time. "You need to get there right now."
"We're moving as fast as we can," Bravo called back. There was the sound of a crash over the channel as their SUV hit something. "We're still good. Still good," he claimed with a very strained voice.
"Computer, do the base mortars have the range?" Alpha asked hopefully.
"Negative."
Zim's rage boiled as he had watched his Gaz-blossom hand over her wedding ring to those hoodlums. Through gritted teeth he had ordered computer to send every surveillance drone into the area and keep track of every single one of those filthy parasites. Then one of those dookie animals grabbed his bondmate, clearly intent on her bonding necklace.
The Irken realized the same thing his human wife had realized. Then he saw the desperate fight break out. He had to get there NOW! But how?
In Zim's brain, thousands of jumbled variables circled chaotically. He sat back in the large Walker, and planted his hand on the controls out of reflex and his previous training.
Zim's brain went CLICK.
It was as if a thousand fractal snippets of information suddenly snapped together. Each one a fluidic shape, constantly changing. Yet each shape of the overall puzzle fitting together. Achieving harmonic resonance. Zim was no longer sitting in a Scout Walker. He was the Walker. And his beloved mate that he could no longer survive without was being attacked. Her life was in jeopardy. Their bond threatened. Her bonding necklace snatched at like some cheap shiny trinket to pawn off to dookie scum! VIOLATED!
Zim slammed down the canopy and it locked in place automatically. He didn't even buckle in as he activated protocols within the onboard computer. A scout walker wasn't designed for front line combat, but out on the flanks or beyond the lines. It needed to be able to react instantly to ambushes, even at rest. It was terrible on the gear, but it could do it.
The walker came to life in three seconds under those 'oh crap' protocols. Zim thumbed the toggles for the fusion turbines in the backpack compartment behind the cockpit. Blue flame jetted out of flung open vents and began to fill the fabrication bay, melting the floor beneath the exhaust.
"Computer!" Zim yelled into the communications net. Another control on his left control stick rotated the missile magazine on the left arm, sliding an anti-armor high explosive warhead into the launch tube. Zim pointed the left arm at the door in front of him. "Emergency jettison! Fabrication bay, NOW!"
There was a tremendous lurch as the underground fabrication bay within Zim's base was blasted free, plowing through the backyard, the kitchen, and taking out half the living room with erupting debris. None of it mattered. All that mattered was Gaz-blossom.
Zim waited a few moments of time as the bay was hurled toward the stratosphere, and sent a missile into the access hatch that was too small. The Irken rammed the fusion turbine's throttle to full as the explosion shattered the wall.
Dib rushed out to the car with Tak right behind him. He heard over Tak's communicator that Gaz was in trouble, and the base was responding. As he unlocked the car, Dib looked in the direction of Zim's base. Out of long entrenched habit: Was Zim up to something? Was it all a trick? Had Zim done something to his sister?
There was a low thump of sound, and a trail of debris off in the distance reaching into the sky. Then an explosion, and a trail of fire screaming across the sky like a meteor. Dib tracked it with his eyes. It wasn't an orbital burn, but suborbital. Very, very, very low suborbital. Almost horizontal, and heading past them overhead and toward the city skyline.
Zim was definitely doing something, but he was rushing to Dib's sister in distress. Whatever was going on it seemed Zim was going to the rescue. Somehow, Dib felt he should be afraid.
Tak also watched the trail of fire flash across the sky. Her superior Irken vision had caught a glimpse of what was at the leading edge of that trail. Not a good look, nor could she make out any detail. But she knew Zim was flying that vehicle apart. It was what she would do only if her mate was in grave danger.
"Dib, forget the base. We need to stay here."
Her human husband looked at her dumbly. She spoke again, in a soft tone as he was not particularly rational and confused at the moment. "Zim just blew out a big chunk of his base. It's still raining debris over there. The new base isn't equipped for human casualties yet. Only Irken ones. Zim's base is best fitted, but probably isn't accessible anymore."
Gir stopped in mid-stride as Mimi led him along back from the car wash.
"Gir," Computer signaled over the communication frequency. "Emergency recall. Mistress is being attacked. Master responding. Surface level of our base destroyed. Access tubes to lower levels destroyed or buried. Reestablish access to medical bay at once. This is a priority one order."
Gir didn't say anything in response. His cyan eyes turned deep red, and the jet turbines popped out from his legs. The robot took off, the doggie disguise ripping away. He flew two feet above the sidewalk. Mimi rocketed behind him. She knew what it meant to have a mistress. What it meant to look upon her mistress after she had been ill treated by others.
Beed charged up the ramp of the assault shuttle with other armored Irkens of First Squadron. Second Squadron was already loaded and sealed inside their own shuttle. Lim was in the cockpit stabilizing the reactor and two others checked their plasma turrets. Delta was sitting in the co-pilot's seat, looking at sensor scans and reading off ranges and directions. Beed looked at the others with him as he locked his particle rifle in it's saddle beside his seat and swung a restraint harness down.
Please don't let us be to late, he repeated over and over. An assault shuttle was designed to bring in troops while under fire. To force hostile landing zones. Not to start up in them. Pre-flight took place beforehand on Irken bases or ships. It was powerful, but not designed to be lightning quick as there was always some trade off. Lim was probably taking dangerous short cuts as it was.
"Contact!" Delta called out from his seat. "Ballistic trajectory bearing zero-three-one. Moving fast. I can't read what it is."
Beed watched Lim lean over for a look. He heard her call back in a high strung voice. "Irken Scout Walker. ETA to Lady Gaz fifteen seconds! I think it's Zim!"
"Oh god," Delta let slip. He had seen what Zim could do with a walker in cyberspace. Somehow he didn't imagine the real life version would be much different.
Beed felt a fraction better. Not in the situation. Not that they were reacting far to slow. Not that they all had been tip toeing because this wasn't an Irken world where they could be blatant in their duties. And not in that Lady Gaz had not allowed herself to be followed by guards wherever she went. But that help was going to arrive in a few more seconds. And if sixty Irken Infantry couldn't get there, a single Irken Armor unit more than made up for it.
Mr. Tinkles stared with a slack jaw. What the-, he thought. That girl had just erupted. One of his crew was staggering back up against a wall after being tazered in the leg. Three more had bloody noses. But he didn't really see that. He was remembering her wide eyes. He didn't understand what happened. But that girl's expression was one of real fear. That her life was in grave danger. And she fought like a trapped animal.
His crew had forgotten about their tazer weapons after the first case of friendly fire. They were trying to just restrain the girl. All they wanted was that freaking necklace. But she kicked and hit with boot heels, fists, and her palms when she could get a shot in to some face. She bit and clawed. She bent back fingers. She yanked one man's long moustache.
But she was being worn down as his men gathered what wits they had and used their numbers and mass to try to bring her under control.
However, all the commotion and noise was bound to attract attention if it went on any longer. Even in this neighborhood, someone seeing a young girl being attacked by a dozen men would bring in the freaking cops. He wasn't worried about traffic. Their SUV's blocked the alley very well. But the surrounding buildings had windows. They were supposed to be quiet, calm and be gone by now. If there was one thing Mr. Tinkles knew about Nick, it was that he hated anything that drew attention. He waved the getaway drivers back into their halfway vacated SUV's.
Gaz bit another finger and slammed an elbow into an eye socket. It seemed like this had been going on forever, but it could only have been a few seconds. Not even she could fight off so many.
She heard a voice call out "Get back!" and she was released. Gaz turned to the new threat, her mind running too fast for thoughts. She was only aware of newly open space around her as she turned. Gaz's heart hammered inside her chest like an eight hundred pound gorilla. Her pulse battering within her ears. She could almost see her pulse as the blood vessels in her eyes distorted in time with her beating heart.
Gaz finished her turn and saw the leader pointing that big tazer gun straight at her center of mass, gangster style. Are you kidding me? her brain managed to get out seeing the ridiculous shooting stance.
Then she saw, almost in slow motion, the puff of decompressing gas. Two lines of wire shot out toward her, and two oversized electrode darts struck her. One just below her sternum, the other just to the right of that breastbone protecting her heart.
Gaz's body flooded with electrical fire.
Echo and nine other human pilots ran to their aircraft as the base went to full alert. Around the perimeter he could see bunkers rising out of the ground, emitters for energy weapons poking out. Up ahead, as he ran to his plane sitting in the Alert Five slots, he could see missiles being positioned by robotic arms coming from under the tarmac. He even saw an ammo loader pop up and begin running rounds into the aircraft's flechette gun magazines.
"Please tell me this is a drill," one of the Crimson Shield pilots exclaimed.
"I don't think so," a Dragon's Fang pilot called back as he puffed out his breath.
Echo silently concurred. They didn't have much in the way of bullets yet. Just what came out of the first test runs of the production method. Not even enough to experiment with in training when they took a lap around the moon.
He reached his plane and climbed in rapidly, pulling on his helmet and making the connections.
"Control, Dingo flight checking in. What is going-"
Alpha's voice sounded in Echo's helmet. "Lady Gaz got mugged. Going bad. Oh jeez! She just went down. I think she's been shot!"
"Oh bloody freaking hell," Echo cursed. "The Irkens are going to go freaking berserk!"
"Echo," Alpha sounded shaky. "I need to know what I'm dealing with here."
It took a moment to catch on to what Alpha was asking. Or more precisely why he was asking Echo. He was asking, not as a human in oversight of an Irken contingent of their fallen Lady's personal guards. Alpha was asking as a Britain to an American who served in the British Military; who had grown up in a certain culture. A culture still in it's teenage period of development, yet a giant. Most of the time asleep or distracted. But a culture that had a long history of going berserk when they perceived getting sucker punched below the belt. A nation who upon suffering such a blow, would basically ask one question. 'Which country do we carpet bomb first?' Only a completely insane person with a death wish would do such a thing to a people that was on record as being the only country on Earth that had proven a willingness to drop nuclear weapons on other people. Twice. That had utterly destroyed the threat potential of other powers permanently.
The Irken empire did this sort of things in their good moods. What would happen when Irkens got pissed off?
Echo spoke very quickly into his helmet mike as he set his figher's preflight diagnostic. "Listen, Alpha. You're not dealing with people. You're dealing with a forest fire. You can't fight it, or you get burned. You can't use reason, or it will turn on you. Get in front and make use of it. Direct it's purpose so they feel they are fulfilling it."
Alpha called up the base's communication net. "All hands. Lady Gaz is down. Don't know how bad. Lockdown the base, and get those assault shuttles in the air! Mission is retrieval. Lady Gaz comes first. Payback can come later. Focus on the job, because your Lady needs you to do it right. Third squadron on the perimeter defenses. Fourth on base operations. 'Gorilla' squads report to the armory for security duty if we have to send Lady Gaz to a hospital."
Zim watched on his HUD the view of Gaz's battle with the thugs seething. The fusion turbines were redlining, being designed for short atmospheric hops a few hundred feet off the ground for perhaps half a mile at most. Not sustained high speed flight. Indicator lights were well into the yellow zones. His PAK making numerous adjustments every second in order to navigate.
Then he saw Gaz hit, and collapse to the ground jerking wildly. He was approaching the area below. He noted the figures around her, keeping clear. The Irken bondmate no longer boiling inside. But something colder. He didn't see filth humans, dirt beings or any of the past insults. Those things weren't even animals. They were unworthy of any designation except one: targets.
Zim sighted in. He was glad he had this machine and it's inferior weapons. Energy weapons were clean. Ballistic weapons and explosives were messy, and Zim was in no mood for clean. But Gaz-blossom was also down there. Zim switched navigation modes, and dropped a nano-transponder bomb with a gelatinous casing. The technologic spores would stick to any biologic tissue and emit a signal. So anything not moving down there was Gaz. Anything moving was, well, not Gaz.
The spherical 'bomb' flashed down the Walker's descending flight path powered by a small engine. It burst in the alley among the crowd of walking targets. Zim was not five seconds out and cut the turbines to enter freefall, centering his landing zone right over his Gaz's collapsed form. Locked, loaded, and weapons free.
Mr. Tinkles cut the tazer's power, gesturing some men to move in. He had hated to do that, but this needed to be finished quickly. Besides, it wasn't like he shot her with an actual gun.
"Uh, boss? She don't look right. I'm not sure she's breathing."
A cloud of mist erupted amidst the group, causing them to cough and gag. And there was a sound up above that was getting louder. Almost a whistle, but it cut out.
"What was that?"
The cloud dissipated, and the men looked around confused. One looked toward the upper story windows to see if someone had throw something.
"Holy -"
He was cut off by a huge armored thing crashing down from freefall above the fallen girl. It landed facing toward the far end of the alley. Thick metal plating in those legs actually bent from the force, and pavement cracked and buckled. Hydraulic lines split, spraying fluid before shutting down and back up lines kicking in. Electromagnetic actuators shorted out and reset from shock damaged circuits in the legs.
Mr. Tinkles looked up at the huge machine as it's arms raised up, huge weapons mounted on the forearms. His eyes bulged. The bore on that gun is as large as my eyeball!
A terrifying voice echoed out of a loudspeaker in pure, cold, hateful rage. "GET AWAY FROM MY WIFE!"
They all felt complete and unadulterated doom now. The girl had said her husband would track them down. And whoever was inside this monster of urban destruction was her husband.
They all most likely thought the same thing. Her psycho husband brought a freaking TANK!
Only perhaps a second had passed since the voice of doom rang out. The left arm swept up aiming down that alley, magazine rotating, locked, and blasted a missile into the blocking SUV and its getaway driver at the other end. It didn't simply explode. It ripped apart into fragments. Building windows shattered from the concussion, spraying glass everywhere. Headlights from the mild traffic on the roads swerved with the sounds of screeching tires. The sounds of cars making 'screw the detour' maneuvers could be heard as well as the few nearby pedestrians evacuating the area in panic.
Another second was stretching into two as these things played out. The torso of that behemoth swung around, right arm outstretched, slamming into three men and sending them flying into the brick wall behind the Walker's swinging back with meaty thuds of several tons of transferred kinetic energy.
Mr. Tinkles, his underwear warm and full, turned to run, his eyes still on that death machine behind him. Two steps. Three. Others were running too. That right arm continued to swing round, level, rotating barrels spinning up, until it was facing the other end of the alley. Another running step taken. Then the noise.
He saw no fire from that gun. Only the chainsaw noise of magnetically driven penetrators breaking the sound barrier at a rate of several thousand per minute. Mr. Thinkles turned his head, all human thought driven from his mind. There was only one animal instinct. A prey animal's instinct. Get away.
Bullets began to shred the SUV's now in front of their path of flight as heavy penetrators began to rake along their sides. The drivers inside almost vanished as shells ripped though thin fragile metal, safety glass, the drivers being a non-factor of resistance to those shell's velocity, out the other side of the car frame, across the street and into the closed building beyond. Hundreds of times over in the space of a few seconds.
Mr. Tinkles managed to duck past and into the street as the solid stream of projectiles tracked into the second SUV, his body pelted by chunks of flying car pieces being torn off in rapid succession. He looked back, filled with terror as that machine took a step in pursuit. Another missile on the left arm rotated into position as it was brought to bear, the right arm still firing a solid beam of projectiles.
The second SUV detonated, it's warped and burning chassis flung into the street as the third loathsome vehicle continued to be shredded. Fire spread as atomized gasoline expanded in the air, igniting in a fireball. The horror of animal cries from men's throats echoed into the setting sun as two were engulfed, and then silenced as they were stuck down. Practically disappearing from the impacts just as the drivers had moments before. The only thing that could be said was that it happened too fast to be defined as grisly.
"RUN FILTH! ZIM COMES FOR YOU!" came a roar as the machine took another step forward, its gun blazing through rounds as if the universe would end in five seconds.
Mr. Tinkles and his surviving and scattering men ran down the sidewalks. The voice echoed more portents of doom. "YOU CAN'T HIDE! ZIM WILL FIND YOU ALL!"
Alpha watched the scene on the display before him, repeating one foul word in dreaded and horrific awe of death incarnate.
Gaz struggled to open her eyes. The roars, the booms, the screaming cold rage. She was lying on the wet pavement, pelted with hydraulic fluid. Her bladder had released, adding to the mess. Her head was tilted on the ground, and she focused her eyes. A metal titan stood in the alley amidst fire and smoke. Stripping the remains of an SUV down to it's chassis with gunfire as faint figures ran.
Something was wrong. She moved her eyes. There was a smell of charred flesh draping over her, and a hint of pain in her chest. There was a sound missing in her ears. A certain drumbeat from before she collapsed.
Something in her weaken brain identified heartbeat. Gaz flailed a hand. She struggled to take in a breath and let it out.
"Zim!"
The walker stopped immediately, as if it had eyes in the back of it's head. Perhaps it did. Gaz's brain was foggy. She struggled for clarity. There were several smashing footsteps. She was losing fast. She couldn't feel much anymore.
Brain starving for oxygen. A voice told her.
Gaz's eyes moved back down the alley, and the foot of the walker. I'm going to die here, Gaz thought. But her fragmented concepts were on Zim. He had taken action. He would continue to do so. He would pursue destruction for taking her away from him. Zim would run out of things to shoot with, and resort to smashing. Power would run out. Zim would not stop his pursuit. Her husband would not survive much longer than she. He couldn't. Not without his bond.
"NO!" She would not let that happen.
The sound of hinges opening, and a slapping of light boots on the pavement as someone jumped down.
Three fingered hands reached under her head, lifting her face into another's. One with red Irken eyes. Out of disguise, a note was made.
Gaz moved to raise a hand. One moved to take it up.
"Gaz-blossom!"
The girl spoke weakly, her vision slowly crowding with stars. Her body tingled. Or was it her brain? "Zim. Don't do it."
Zim needed something to keep going after she was gone. To keep him going. To help not descend into madness when his wife wasn't there to stabilize his biology and mind with her bond. With a surge of will, she weakly reached into a pocket and withdrew something. She brought it up and a hand latched on.
"Gaz! Please. Just hang on!" Her head was lowered back to the pavement. There were sounds of a PAK opening, and gadgets removed to be placed on her chest.
She used her will to press that paper into his hand harder. She looked into his eyes with love. "Zim, you have to live for her. Make her real. Promise."
"Zim promises!" came a cry. "Just hang on!"
A sharp pain snapped in her forehead. Pain. But everything was fading fast.
Somewhere in the fading haze Gaz sensed herself being lifted up. The roar of turbines. The heat of exhaust and flame as things caught fire.
Then blackness.
End of phase 3: Shock. Initiating phase 4: Recovery.