Chapter 3

Medea stepped into the main chamber of the control room. She lifted her eyes at the sound of a heated discussion.

"Then there were intelligent life forms on this planet..."

"Obviously! That's a moot factor. It appears they were nothing but pushovers, though..."

"Did you just instantaneously forget how we got ourselves stranded here?"

Jack gave Barry a nasty look. "If you're going to start that whole 'you should have been more cautious' ruckus again, then I'm gonna..."

Medea stepped between them, grinning slyly. "Did you guys find out something that made both your days at the same time or what?"

The two men ceased their discussion to give her a look of interest.

"You look pretty happy yourself. Anything we should know?" Jack asked, mock hopefully.

"Not really. Just in a good mood, I suppose. So, what was that about?"

Barry didn't try to hide the excited grin that crept onto his face. "Well, I was scrounging around that dilapidated structure on the north side of the base, when I found a little something." He held up something rather keen in resemblance to a lap-top computer. Opening it, the screen blared a rather visually disturbing orange-ish color, illuminating black text, seemingly a journal entry of some-sort.

Medea examined the catastrophic font, thinking fondly of her husband's own illegible handwriting. She placed a fingertip on a small rectangle symbol at the top of the screen, pulling it down to scan the entire document. "Interesting. Is there any chance of decoding it?"

"Eh. Not with none of our equipment working properly. However, decoding isn't necessary. Apparently 'english' is a fairly common language..." He pressed his finger to the bar at the top of the screen. A list of what could only be various dialects appeared in a drop-down window. Among them, was 'english'. He tapped on it once.

The document was reloaded in English, although in a very weird text. Barry handed the electronic journal to Medea. She squinted, making out the warped letters, eventually getting the hang of it.

'The last of our receiving towers was demolished yesterday. The few assertive survivors of the original attack have formed a defensive structure on the shadowed lower sector of the planet. Most of us were not so lucky. Dhi and I find ourselves in this dump. Not another soul for at least nine hundred miles. Transmission attempts are useless, and usually fatal. The 'Armada' can detect anything. We dare not let our fellow Ghenyyrrs know what we toil with.

Curse the Irkens for their arrogance and power! All attempts to resist their control have been rebuked with nothing less than absolute cruelty. I am deeply infuriated to reveal that they will be the cause of our extinction. It is only a matter of time before our meager source of provisions is exhausted. A meager amount of time before we, as a race, cease to exist.

I am, however, proud to record that their technology seems to be the result of conquest, not actual intelligence on their part. The mighty Irkens are brainless drones! The only advantage I can decipher that comes to them naturally is in their numbers. There are so many of them!

But, they will not have this planet!

Dhi and I have recovered the access codes to the underlying security system. Being the only survivors of our specialist team, it is up to us to reinstate the planet's defenses. Once completed, no vessel will be able to enter our planet's atmosphere and survive. Due to the unlimited power- supply of the core of our beautiful planet, the defenses will remain eternally intact....

I laugh at the Irken crafts, unaware of their fates upon the next wave of their massacre. I laugh at their mock-superiority. I laugh.

This planet will never fall to their malevolent hands."

Medea shut the electronic journal gently, a sad glint glowing in her lovely eyes. "I guess that answers why we were shot down. And why this planet is deserted..."

Barry stood up to look out one of the windows. A rough wind tore through the reddish soil, tossing sandy waves against the ship's outer walls, dirt grinding against the glass of the window. "What a loss. They seemed like quite the intellectual species..."

"Then again, you were reading the 'journal' of only one of these aliens. A scientist at that. Of course he'd be smart."

"I mean in comparison to those brutes! I have no respect for those with ambitions of conquest."

"Humanity is riddled with ambitious types. I hate to be the one to inform you."

"Shut up, Jack."

"I still say they were push overs."

"Shut up!!"

Medea rose and walked out of the room, leaving the two to their quarrel. Tapping a fingertip on her chin, she thought about the haunting entry. She didn't understand why anyone would want to simply demolish an entire civilization. The rewards of coming to terms with another culture! The ideas and customs, wrapped in their own beautiful, colorful ribbon of intelect...

She entered her sleeping quarters, flopping down upon the bed. She now strained to remember exactly how long of a trip it was from Earth to this planet. A month? Maybe two? But that was six years ago. Faster, more efficient spacecraft would have been invented by now....if her husband hadn't ceased his funding of space travel once she disappeared.... She wiped away a tear as it slid down her cheek. She thought of her beloved husband, her dear children.

She prayed these Irkens had developed no interest in her home planet while she was away...

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Zim pressed another random button on the console in front of him. According to the radar, they had already passed through the planet's solar system's boundaries an hour ago. Only four more hours to go. Smiling triumphantly, he turned to his companions.

Gaz was tapping away at her Game Slave as Dib attempted to teach Gir how to play Free Cell. Zim cocked a non-existent eyebrow at his sir unit, who was being uncharacteristically well-behaved. He cleared his throat.

"We will be entering the planet's atmosphere in less than four hours."