***

When the emergency lights came on, they filled the entire Massive with a harsh red glow. From his perch atop the cruiser, Zim could finally see what was going on. Irkens were scrambling around like crazy. Some jumped into their ships, others passed weapons to each other. Every now and then a violent impact from outside would make the entire vessel shudder and rumble. When that happened, Irkens ducked and covered their heads. Panic caused everyone to scream expletives in their native language, especially the higher ranked individuals who ran around waving their arms, trying to grab back any sense of order.

Throughout the bedlam, Zim just watched. He was the only one sitting still. Gir sat beside him, looking back from the master to his master's fellow Irkens. Somehow to the SIR, there was something his master was probably supposed to be doing. His limited intellect kept what this something was from him leaving him none the wiser.

After the last explosion rocked the Massive, Zim got down and finished reloading his supplies. He moved calmly and quickly. When finished, he climbed into the pilot's seat. Gir plopped down beside him. "Yay! We're gonna fight!"

"No, Gir," Zim corrected him firmly. "We are not going to fight. We're leaving."

"Leaving?" Gir pointed outside. "But they need help!"

Zim clenched his sharp teeth together and asserted his grip on the controls. He set his gaze straight ahead determinedly. "I don't care."

"Oh. Too bad for them." Gir mimed a punch. "Bet you could kick them 'round real good!"

Zim grunted and waited for the dock to open to let all the ships out. When it did, Zim floored it and shot out into space. When he gained a sufficient distance, he slowed and looked back.

The Massive was surrounded by lots of other smaller ships, some Irken and others belonging to the enemy. Explosions looked like little bursts of light and colored streaks denoted the exchange of laser fire. Near as Zim could make out, these enemy fighter ships belonged to the Resisty, a rebel force that openly defied the Empire's encroaching dominion over the entire universe. They were formidable opponents and the only real threat to the superior might of Irk. Zim remembered saving the Tallest from them once - and bitterly regretted it. Could have solved all his unforeseen problems right there.

The Massive rocked again from another impact. This time it was so large it disconnected the ship from the space station. It was an awesomely devastating sight as little bits of debris scattered miles throughout space.

"Wow," Zim muttered. "This actually looks bad."

Gir spotted something and pointed. "Look at that! WOW!"

Hovering at just the right proximity of distance, Zim noticed something he never noted before. The Resisty's own version of Irk's Massive. It was the one delivering the injurious shots at the steadily disabled Massive. Sooner or later it'd hit a vital spot and the ship would explode.

Irk would be no more.

Torn, Zim placed the heels of his hands to the sides of his face. I don't owe them anything. ANYTHING! I gave them allegiance and they gave me spit in the face! I do not owe that horrible world and its stupid manipulative Tallest anything! Nothing! They destroyed my life, they made me into . . . into THIS!

"Isn't this ironic." Zim's voice tinged with sarcastic arrogance. "Look at you. Almighty Irk getting its ass kicked. Not so superior now, are ya? I laugh at your misfortune. HAHAHAHAHAHA!" He clutched his stomach, tears forming in his eyes. He shared his depraved glee with Gir. "Fate has lent us favor, Gir. This is what a twisted sense of justice looks like. Karma is what you get returned. I love it!" He burst out laughing again, banging his fist on the motherboard.

Gir eyes turned red and he droned in his monotone, "Laugh alone and the world thinks you're an idiot."

Zim cut off. "Huh?"

Gir returned to normal and clapped. "I read it on a bumper sticker! Hehehehe!" He hopped up and declared, "I'm gonna go play in the back, 'kay?" Without waiting, he ran to the back of the cruiser.

Zim sat back and watched as Irk lost more and more ships. His heart said one thing and his head said another. Overwhelmed, he grabbed his antenna and yanked down on them in frustration. "Dammit! No! I don't have to DO this! I am NOT under obligation! What happens to them is not my problem!"

"They're your people, Zim. Look in the mirror sometime."

"Dare you tell me what I already know?!" Zim growled and then it caught in his throat.

There he was. Sitting in the passenger seat, an otherworldly glow surrounding him. Dumbfounded, he could only stare. He hadn't "seen" him since that night in the graveyard. He wanted to hug the thought-form but he knew it was impossible. You can't touch what you can't see.

The Dib apparition leaned back, casually crossed one ankle over the other. "You need to be reminded every now and again."

Zim crossed his arms haughtily. "Oh? I suppose you know better. Where were you all this time?"

"Buried six feet under, Zim. Sorry," the form grinned. "Bad joke. You're having another one of your agony fits of moral ambiguity. That's where I come in." Rather smugly, he pointed to himself.

Zim muttered. "I've already made my decision. There is no moral ambiguity. My mind is made up."

"Is it?"

"Of course it is!" Zim shouted. "I'm turning this vessel around and I'm going . . ." he faltered slightly. "I'm going home."

"And where is home?"

"Well, Irk." Zim gestured helplessly. "But . . . it's not . . ."

Dib saved him the trouble. "It's not where your heart is. You know the old adage: home is where the heart is. To yours it's with my sister, is it not?"

Nail on the head. Zim sat down with a thump. "Yes," he said softly. "I have to see her again. If only just for one more time."

Dib smiled. "Yes and yet you're torn. Why is that?"

"Why? Ah, were it so simple." Zim forced himself to look at the galactic space battle that raged only a few miles away. "Maybe it's because of how I used to feel about the Tallest. I really looked up to them, Dib. They were all I lived for. I thought there was nothing finer in life than impressing them." He formed a fist and placed it between his eyes. "I was fortune's fool. I can't be that fool again. I won't be that fool again."*

"I would do it."

Zim looked up.

"Humanity shunned me and I fought you anyway. I hated humanity too but they're my people. To fight for one's principles is easier than living up to them and I vowed to live up to mine no matter what."

"Even if it means saving those who shun you?"

"Sometimes you have to do that," Dib replied. "It's a thankless lot to have in life. But it's a role many play and they never get sung for it."

Disturbed, Zim rested his chin on his knuckles. "It doesn't seem . . . worth it."

"Worth it or not, you have to decide." Dib pointed open-handed to the distant battle. "You're the only one who has to live with the consequences."

Zim half-closed his eyes. "Yes. I do." The weight of it bore on him unbearably. "I should have died instead of you." Suddenly it struck him right there, so hard he slammed his back against the seat. Sparkles filled his vision for a moment and he found it hard to breathe. "Oh shit! I can't believe it!" He spread both hands against the windshield. "I vowed never to use it again but . . . maybe . . ." He took a deep breath and looked over at the Dib-form. "Should I?"

Dib smiled. "The best way to envision the future is to invent it." And then he was gone.

Zim grinned and took hold of the controls. Elation and a hardened sense of resolve filled him. "Gir, we're going to help save Irk."

Gir popped up front and cheered. "Yay!"

***

"No, Lark, I'm NOT going."

Lark Atwater clasped both hands together. "Please, Gaz. I can't get anyone else to come with me. Please, please, please."

Gaz didn't look up from her Latin textbook. She was sitting Indian style in the makeshift living room on a beat up old brown armchair. She was trying to translate a whole page of text and in her personal opinion, it required a sustained peace and quiet. Gaz gritted her teeth together and made an annoyed grunt.

Lark used her index finger to gently force the book down so she could see her roommate's face. "No one else wants to come. You're my last hope."

"That's pretty pathetic." Gaz yanked back and then leaned forward to write a word on a piece of notebook paper. "If I'm your last hope, then you weren't looking hard enough."

Sighing, Lark straightened up and raked her fingers through her reddish bangs. "You don't even know who the tickets are for go seeing and you're saying no. Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"Nope."

"Gaz, c'mon. Ask me what the tickets are for."

I will destroy her. A very bored Garfield like expression on her face, Gaz let out a long-suffering exhalation. "What are the tickets for?" Not Star Wars, not Star Wars, she prayed. And if it's anything involving Freddie Prinze, Jr. I am resigning from the human race in protest.

Lark leaned in and whispered it in her ear.

Gaz jerked back a little and stared at her. "No shit. Show me the stubs."

Smiling Lark produced them and handed them to Gaz who couldn't snatch them away fast enough. Staring at them with round amber eyes, she shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe I'm holding these."

Lark laughed.

Gaz looked up again. "How in the world did you manage to get them?"

"I cut chemistry yesterday to get 'em. That's when they went on sale."

Of course. Leave it to Lark to decide what she held in the greatest esteem. Gaz's forehead furrowed and she handed them back. "Lark, you shouldn't cut chem. It's finals week for chrissake."

The red head picked up her pocketbook and put the tickets in her wallet. "So? I think tickets to THEIR concert is worth every finals week. I'd cut graduation for these guys."

She would. A wry grin played across Gaz's lips. "Tell me again why you're going to college."

"Because in order to become an aeronautical engineer you need a degree in that kind of engineering." Lark found a rubber band and gathered her hair up. "What are you studying so hard for? I should think computer programming should be a cinch for a genius like you. Not to mention that dead language you're staring at."

Gaz's eyes had dropped back to the book. "I'm blessed with the typical perfectionist's attitude. It'll show on my record."

The other girl laughed.

"Fine," Gaz spoke in a singsong way. "Laugh all you want. You'll see."

Lark tugged on Gaz's ponytail. "Whatever, girl. So are you coming or not? It's tonight."

Wait, this was a change. She thought about it. "Okay. I'll go."

Lark jumped up. "Yes!"

Gaz held up a warning to back up her assent. "BUT. If you're using this as an opportunity to act like a total moron in the presence of the lead singer, I will leave you there for the wolves to devour. Weeks later when they finally find your body, they'll be nothing left but bones and a few torn pieces of your Ralph Lauren tank top. Due to open-air exposure and the voracious appetite of early decomposition, only dental records will be able to identify you. Since the tests will be inconclusive you will be buried in an unmarked grave in the darkest creepiest corner of the cemetery. While the vines slowly and surely entwine around your headstone, only your sudden absence from the top of the pyramid in cheerleading class will leave any shadow of a doubt in their minds of what really happened to Lark Calandra Atwater."

By the time she reached the end of it, she was topping it off with a real sense of malicious relish. There was an evil twinkle in her eye.

All during the telling of the morbid tale, Lark stared at her with this deadbeat stare. Finally she came to a conclusion. "Gaz, honey, you need help."

Say you say we all. Gaz put her book away and sat back down again. "Am I the only one you managed to convince or are any of your life-sucking female members of the prep squad coming?"

"I only got two tickets. Besides," Lark dipped her chin guiltily. "My boyfriend, he, uh, we're having some problems. You see we were supposed to go and . . ."

I knew it was too good to be true. "So I'm your pity company."

"Uh, yeah. If you WANT to look at it that way," Lark said uneasily. "But his loss, eh?"

Excellent, I get to spend the entire night listening to her bitch about the man-in-the- tenuous-position-of-being-the-One. Gaz shook her head. "Lark, sometimes when I think we're getting to be friends, I don't know. Sometimes I wonder about you."

"About me?" Lark reacted with surprise. She reached over and tugged on Gaz's shirt. It had a picture of Marvin the Martian on it with the words ISN'T THAT LOVELY? under his image. "Really, Gaz."

"I like this shirt." Gaz delivered it with all the threatening promise of a death sentence.

Defensively Lark held up both hands. "Hey, no offense meant." Beep, beep. Wordlessly Lark smacked herself in the head, grabbed a textbook off the coffee table and bolted out the door. Even from inside the dorm, you could hear the squeaky sound of her tennis shoes on the linoleum floor.

Again, the mysteries of time and space yield yet another promising result.

Gaz checked her watch and rolled her eyes. An hour to go until individual studies. Getting up, she wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Her mouth fell open. Her eyes narrowed into two slits of evil.

"Lark drank the last soda." A smile crept on her face. "She will pay." Shaking her head at herself, Gaz grabbed a can of pineapple juice. Coming back into the living room, she picked up the pile of unopened mail off the counter. Rapidly going through them, she wandered around in a semi-circle.

"Bills, bills, junk, another bill, junk, junk, subscription to Playgirl." A flagitious smirk skittered across Gaz's face. "Oh Lark, how well do I know thee." She continued. "Free ESP reading (yeah right), letter from Membrane." She folded it in half and tossed it in the pile with the junk mail. It was just another 'form letter' he sent every month. He thought by doing that he was doing his playing daddy bit. "Another bill (hey I paid that!), University of . . ." Gaz trailed off and stared at the last envelope in her hand. She double- checked the return address to make sure it had her name in the corner. It did.

Shaking her head, Gaz made sure she sat herself down. She'd been applying constantly since early fall, hoping desperately she could transfer out of this hellhole into some place better, some place more prestigious. This letter could change her life forever. For bad or for good.

Knowing her kind of luck, she knew better than to hope for the latter.

Gaz braced herself and then tore into the envelope with the necessary amount of ferocity.

Unfolding the letter, she took one moment to wallow in the tension before opening her eyes to the result.

Bringing both feet to the floor, she stood up. Her mouth hung open. Clutching the paper in her hands, the shock slowly turned to that of complete excitement. In agony she looked around. "There's no one here." She looked at it again and then a bright smile spread across her face. Standing on the couch, Gaz indulged herself and made a victory pose. "I GOT IT! I GOT THE GRANT!"

She jumped down and for the only time in her life, she wished she had a bottle of Merlot to break against someone's head.

Gaz calmed down and made herself sit. "I got the grant," she talked out loud. "That means . . . that means I'm moving out of the godforsaken city and this miserable town! Away from Membrane, away from Lark, away from everyone." She laughed and cried at the same time. Never had she felt this happy in her whole entire life. And it was happening because of her, her credentials, her accomplishments, her. No one else. Her.

Me. This letter is everything I get to be because I made it happen. I made something good happen for myself.

Gaz went to the window and opened it. Sticking her head out, she inhaled deeply and then let it out with a loud sigh of contentment.

Nightmare world just lost another resident.

***

However, in the greater scheme of things, the residents of nightmare world moved in and out of the neighborhood constantly. In a ceaseless amazing chain of coincidences this often meant while one sun shone down upon one's fortune, another unseen source of illumination darkened upon another's.

"All right, Gir," Zim muttered quietly to his servant. "I am going to need your obedience in the absolute. That means you do what I tell you exactly. Exactly."

"Yes sir!"

"Good."

Zim put on a residual stealth shield and stopped his cruiser just outside the Resisty's area of radar reach. Instead of mixing it up with the other fighters near the Massive, Zim had a different strategy in mind. Rather than subject his ineffective Voot's defenses to the far more superior might of the enemy's, he decided to use its other capabilities, namely him.

Zim made certain the ship would remain where it was and then started to suit up in his space gear.

"Gir," he spoke to the rigid SIR who waited since commanded to do so. "I need you to watch my back. Keep an eye on the radar and monitor any incoming transmissions. If I need help, I will tell you I need it. Do not make any move without my consent or knowledge. Do you understand so far?"

Gir nodded.

"Excellent. Now Gir, listen closely. I am going to place an explosive on their main firing mechanism. I'd do it from here but unfortunately if I do that, the enemy will see us. Only by working directly touching the hull can I move in complete secrecy. Now this explosive probably won't destroy their ship nor will it destroy the weapon. But I am hoping the explosion will throw off the trajectory enough so the Massive can reactivate its shields. Of course, the Massive's shields need time to recharge and unfortunately the number of pauses between enemy fire has made that all but impossible." Zim looked toward the doomed Irken vessel. "I am hoping I can buy them that needed time."

He looked back at Gir. "Please tell me you got all that."

Gir nodded. "Yes."

Zim eyed him. "All right, what am I doing?"

Gir remained silent.

Zim smacked himself on the forehead. "E enu ivee tensa!" he grumbled in his native tongue. "LISTEN. I am going to make something explode and I need you to watch to make sure nothing stops me from making that happen! Do you understand NOW?!"

Gir smiled sweetly. "I like explosions!"

"Gir. . ."

"Yes, sir, I obey!" Gir saluted. "Stand guard while you place explosive on firing mechanism and save the Massive from imminent destruction. Yay."

Zim made two fists and hissed, "Yes! There's hope for you yet, my evil henchman." He pressed a button on his suit and his invisible helmet went over his head to protect it from Out There.

His SIR giggled inanely, tainting the veracity of that claim. He waved gaily after Zim opened the cockpit and activated his rockets. "Bye-bye!" he called watching his master becoming smaller and smaller as he drew closer to the enemy vessel.

***

Deep inside the Massive, Purple covered his head as another explosion rocked the ship. "We're going to die!" He was under a table in a ball of fear. "I never got to finish my last candy bar! I was saving that you know!"

Red, meanwhile, crawled out from his hiding place and looked out into space over the top of a computer terminal switchboard. "It looks bad." Frightened, he looked over at his partner in the Empire. "I think we're throwing our towel in."

Purple uncovered his head. "No. . . You don't mean . . ."

Red nodded sadly.

Purple moaned. "Nooooo! We're the Irken Empire! Superior beings don't die at the hands of those less superior than them! That's just dumb!"

Red couldn't believe it either however he voiced it in a more realistic less hysterical manner. "We may have to surrender." He sat down with his back to the computer. He stared straight ahead, stunned. "I can't believe I said that."

Purple flinched when an enemy collided with the ship nearest to their quarters, making it rock again wildly for the hundredth time. Then he crawled over to his co-ruler. "There's got to be something we can do. There aren't any defenses we've overlooked have we?"

"No." Red still kept staring straight ahead. "We've exhausted everything." He made a frustrated sound. "I don't understand! How did they get so . . . so powerful? Where did they get that kind of brute force?" He punched the floor. "And why is it no one knew about it?!"

Purple shrugged. "So what should we do? We're dying out there, Red. Look," he pointed to a grid on the wall. All the life signs of the Irkens flying their battle ships were flat except for maybe three or four. "It's going to take eighty years to train that many more pilots." It hit him. "Oh no . . ." Sanity lost from his eyes. "No, no, no . . ."

Red saw his counter part losing it and grabbed him by his shoulders. "Snap out of it! That's not helping me think!"

"You can still THINK?" Purple said in a high pitched voice.

Red didn't answer. He just crawled over to a computer panel where a now-dead technician was sitting. Pushing the body out of the chair, Red sat in it. Purple got up and came to his side. "What are you doing?"

Red turned and looked at his co-ruler wearily. "There's two options left."

Purple looked from the computer and back at Red again. "What are they?"

Red took a deep breath. "We surrender or . . . self-destruct."

"Surrender?" Purple became faint. "You mean . . . that's it?" A darkness passed over him. "The Irken Empire doesn't surrender."

"Right." Red didn't look happy about it. "You know what that means."

Purple paled. "I do." Pause. "So where's the self-destruct?"

Both leaders looked around and then back at each other.

"You mean you don't know?" Red asked his eyes snapping open.

"No! I thought YOU knew!" Purple objected indignantly.

"Me?! Why would I know?!"

"Because you're the Tallest!"

"Excuse me, ahem, don't want to be rude but YOU'RE the Tallest too!" Red shouted back. He smacked himself on the forehead. "It's going to take a miracle at this point."

Purple reached into his pocket and took out a candy bar. "That's it. I'm eating this. Want half?"

Red shrugged and put his hand out. "Why the hell not?"

***

Lightly, Zim crawled over the ship's hull, only the tops of his boots and the tips of his claws in contact with its surface. He paused every now and then to take deep breaths. He didn't like to admit this readily but he was scared. His heart was pounding wildly and whenever he lifted a hand to crawl, he noticed it shook. For a second, he took time out to made a fist and steel his nerves. He could do this. He had to do this. Irk's survival depended on it.

Still despite his dedication to the task, he couldn't help wondering if this was indeed the right thing he was doing. Whatever the true principle behind the Resisty's rebellion, its logistics probably adhered to his line of thinking. But it was like Dib said. Despite his hatred for the Empire, they were his people. They were what he was a product of. They were why he was here. If for no reason other than that, he was going to save them.

For several minutes he inched slowly and carefully over the hull. He took deep breaths. Think about something else. Anything. Pick something.

Zim walked home from skool along his usual route. He stopped when a kitten crossed his path. The animal stopped too and stared at him. Kneeling, he put his hand out to the tiny gray creature like he'd seen human children do. The creature investigated his claw and then rubbed its furry face against his knuckle. He found himself smiling and he scratched the animal under its chin. It sat down and stretched its neck out, perfectly content to sit there and let Zim pet it.

"Wow."

Zim frowned and looked over his shoulder. Dib stood there and stared at Zim petting the cat. "Wow what, stink-beast?"

The human shook his head. "That's the first time I've seen you go near an animal without running away screaming first."

Zim gave the kitten a final stroke along the length of its back before standing up. "This only proves how really little you know of me, earth creature." He squinted one eye at his rival. "What did you expect me to do? Light its tail on fire? Attach alien devices to its back and let it destroy your city?" He smirked. "All of those would be fun but I cannot resort to such cruelty toward dumb creatures. Of course," he smiled at Dib evilly, "you are the extreme exception to the rule."

Dib crossed his arms. "Honored, truly." There was no gladness in his voice. "No, seriously, Zim. That little display tells me you're not as ruthless and unyielding as you like to say you are. Of course I suspected this all along."

Zim put two fists on his hips. "What are you getting at?"

Dib shrugged. "Exactly what I said, space boy."

The alien came close as he dared to the trench coat clad human and pointed in his face. "However you think, it won't help your chances for victory. I hope you know that."

"I do."

Zim lowered his hand. "Then why say anything at all?"

Dib only grinned. "I just love watching you get your act on."

"What?!" Zim's eyes went round. "I ENTERTAIN you?"

"This shocks you." Dib stated it in a self-satisfied manner. "Oh boy. So many possibilities."

Zim grabbed the edge of the human's coat. Dib stopped smiling and pulled back nervously. He removed his eye lenses so his enemy had to stare into his blood red eyes. "You think me a fool for your pleasure. Well, think of it no more, sadly misguided flesh creature. Your entertainment ends here."

"Wh-What are you going to do?" Dib replied very quietly.

Zim backed off and put his contacts back on. "At present, nothing. Now that I know how seriously you take me, I know how far I can go with you."

Dib's eyes widened.

Zim smiled. "Oh it is nothing so insidious. You have your entertainment value as well. Prove me wrong about that and you'll get something for all your troubles, Dib."

For a second Dib lost his tongue. Then he regained it. "What would I get?"

He kept the grin on. "Credit."

The human frowned and made an angry gesture. "From who, Zim? FROM WHO?!"

The alien backed away and winked. "Me." And without staying to observe the human's reaction, he made for home fast.

Probably the most decent conversation we ever had, Zim thought stopping to rest. "Okay, where am I?" He lifted his head somewhat and looked around. Suddenly he grinned. There it was. Carefully he activated the gravity on his boots and stood up. Blithely he marched up the mechanism and knelt just under the weapon. It chose to fire right then, causing him to grab the sides of his space helmet and at the same time grab onto the base of the weapon (it looked like a cannon out of a Star Wars film) to keep from flying out into space. He could only be grateful there wasn't any sound in space or else he'd be deaf. Again.

"All right, that was annoying," he muttered crawling nimbly onto the weapon. "Now where's the mechanism? Ah! There it is." He watched it kick back and click forward (without the audible click) projecting a ball of fire with deadly accuracy right at the Massive. Helplessly Zim watched the Massive rock wildly from the impact. He noticed the fighters in the distance were becoming fewer and fewer. Hmm, that meant the battle was coming close to an end. Win or lose, the Resisty would then notice him when they would do a cursory scan for hull damage. Have to make this quick.

Zim reached back into his pak and pulled out the explosive. Manipulating the tiny thing onto the mechanism, his fingers worked quickly to attach it securely before it could kick back again. He waited for a few seconds, watching it fire again to make sure it remained stuck. It did.

Satisfied, Zim set the detonation switch attached to his wrist and then quickly moonwalked across the hull. When the Voot came within sight he called into his communicator. "Gir!"

"Yes sir!"

"I'm deactivating my gravity. You're going to have to catch me. Copy?"

"Copy!"

Zim switched off. He took a deep breath and shut off his boots. "Here's to infinity and its many outcomes."

Free floating away from the enemy vessel, he spread his arms and pushed back with his feet to get the maximum thrust. Gir maneuvered the Voot at the right angle and caught Zim on his momentum. Looking back at the ship and the growing miles between himself and it, Zim brought his arm around and pressed the detonation switch. "See you in hell."

The explosion came as a small burst out orange and yellow light. Zim's mouth dropped open. Just as the thing blew, the weapon chose to fire again mid trigger, which caused an internal eruption. It set off a chain reaction. First it destroyed the cannon completely and then hurried along either side of the vessel. Reaching the engines, it made them explode as well. And as everyone knows, when the engines on a space ship are destroyed, it carries the same sentence on to the rest of the body as well.

"This isn't what I had in mind," Zim gulped and then he panicked when he realized what was happening. "Oh shit! Gir, we've gotta get out of here! That thing's not going to be done exploding for a while!"

He hit the button that said THIS MAKES YOUR SHIP LOOK LIKE A BLUR. Aiming for the nearest and safest direction, he chose the Massive and headed right toward it. In his escape from destruction, he passed the fleeing enemy fighters who was just as shocked as anyone to see their mother ship become reduced to salvage material right before their eyes.

Several moments passed. Quietly the lone Voot drifted toward the Massive and Irk at a regular, steady pace.

When the enemy was, in effect, to be seen no more, Gir began to cheer. "Hooray for Irk! Hooray for master! Hooray for meeeeeee!"

Zim shared in his robot's happiness with a sheepish grin. "Yeah. I guess we did pretty good on the save-the-day thing, huh?"

Gir only hugged him. "I did good."

"Yes," Zim told him. "You did good."

Gir hugged himself and sat there, doing just that for a little while.

Manning the controls, Zim steered toward the Massive. "C'mon. The battle may be over but the war's still hanging on around here somewhere. How annoying is that?"

"Not as annoying as having no tacos!" Gir replied abruptly.

Zim just chuckled.

***

*reference to Romeo and Juliet with no metaphor intended. For those who don't read Shakespeare, after Romeo kills Tybalt, he realizes what he's done and screams, "I am fortune's fool!" Which I think means that even though he got something good, he was a fool for believing in it. That's only my interpretation of course. ;)