Title: Frequency
Author: Mizander
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All this time, and I still don't own it. I'm worse than Zim. Anyway - Invader Zim still belongs to Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon.

Chapter Three:

Despite his rocky start, the next five and a half months had been relatively uneventful as the cruiser drifted uninterrupted into, and then right through the ever-expanding Irken territory. Thankfully for Dib, who couldn't have known such information, Tak had outfitted her patchwork ship with an engine more powerful than was normally found in even the newer Irken voot cruisers. All in all, it had shaved an extra fifteen days off the journey - a luckier thing than he knew, given his time constraints.

As they entered the planet's gravitational pull, Dib was snoozing while slouched deep in the pilot's seat. This was both a position and pastime he'd adopted for most of the trip - far more than usual after his batteries and food supply had run down to the bare bones. GIR on the other hand had not been bored once during the entire course of the voyage, and he shivered with renewed excitement as the brightly flashing advertisements and neon-colored restaurant signs of Foodcourtia captured his attention. So entranced by these things was he, he nearly crashed the Cruiser during his landing. As it was, the trash bins behind the Gulp and Blow Nacho House would never be the same.

The sudden jolt stirred Dib out of his sleep, and he jumped in surprise at once more seeing unfamiliar surroundings, banging his head on the roof of the cockpit. It slid open, revealing what had to be the most enormous display of cheap advertising and cheap food he'd ever seen. It was almost as though the architect for this planet had tried to create a tangible version of the internet. The internet, strategically placed right in the middle of a mall food court.

Maneuvering the ship quickly into a parking space, Dib set foot on the planet's surface, eager for a chance to stretch his legs. After five and a half months in space, all of his limbs felt like jello at first, but they slowly regained their strength as he began to walk. Dozens of aliens wandered past him, none of them Zim and all of them too preoccupied with shoveling food in their faces to notice his stares, which, he decided was probably for the best.

Meandering uncertainly along the rows of eateries, Dib peered in the windows, unsure of where to begin his search, and hoping against hope that he would find Zim in one of the many stores - eating a...well, whatever passed for normal nutritional staples among the Irkens. With the exception of that waffle incident, he didn't think he'd ever really seen Zim eat anything at all.

As he passed by a particularly tacky place, bearing a bright neon green sign with the words "Schloogorgh's: The Flavour Monster" flashing brilliantly above, a creature manning the cash register caught his immediate attention. Short, obviously Irken and red eyes shining through a pair of goggles, Dib could barely believe his good fortune. He'd barely been here five minutes and already he'd found Zim.

Bursting through the energy field that served as a door, a pleasant sounding chime echoed through the restaurant as he weaved his way through the maze of booths and tables.

"Hey! Zim!" He called aloud, but the counter-server did not even look up.

Seconds later, he also found himself flat on his back, staring up into a scarred pair of purple eyes, narrowed in an angry scowl.

"What do you mean by shouting that ACCURSED name in MY establishment?" roared the creature - which Dib, backing up in his fright now saw was one hell of an enormous Irken.

"Er..." Under that penetrating gaze, Dib just decided to try for something resembling the truth. "I saw someone else and mistook them for...that...person."

The Irken, whose name-tag read 'Sizz-Lor', regarded him suspiciously for a moment, but then smirked, offering him a hand. Confused by the sudden change in demeanor, Dib wisely decided not to question a creature that could probably crush him like a bug, and took the proffered help. "Uh...I'm sorry."

"Heh. Well, I can only assume you're a head-hunter of some kind, 'cause no one in their right mind would ever want to be associated with Zim."

Dib let out a cough and ran with it. "Er, yeah. That's right. Headhunter. Say, you don't suppose you can help me? Y'know, with the Head-hunting, and all?"

Sizz-Lor's scarred face twisted, as though recalling some particularly painful memory. Then, he shook his head. "Well, I'm sorry there little guy, but I swore a long time ago I'd have no more to do with that annoyance. Plus, I've got a restaurant to run." He slapped Dib on the back heartily, making him fall to his knees a second time. "But just for undertaking some particularly noble work, I'll give you a discount." He set Dib upright a second time, and gave him a gentler shove towards the counter, then turned abruptly and stomped off into the kitchens.

Drawing close to the counter, (he didn't want to anger Sizz-Lor again) he came face to face with the Irken and could see now that it wasn't in fact Zim. Although it had the same buggy red eyes as most of them did, it also had antennae which curled under at the ends - putting him more in mind of Tak. Perhaps this one was another female.

"Hello there! Welcome to Schloogorgh's, what can I get you?"

Dib took a moment to process this. Having only ever been in contact with two members of the Irken race, both of whom had been hell-bent on eradicating his species and taking over his planet, it sent his mind reeling to come across one who was not only saccharine-sweet, but also apparently subservient.

"Uh...I didn't really..." Dib felt rather stupid. He was hungry, and he did have money, but he also hadn't been intending to make an order when he entered the restaurant, and he further wasn't sure what this food would do to his digestive system given that most Earth food was like acid to Irkens. "I thought you were someone else." he concluded lamely.

Her eyes widened a little, and a hint of testiness crept into that customer service-based friendliness. "OH." Seeming to struggle with herself a bit, she eventually fixed her face into a more neutral expression and addressed him again with a credible attempt at politeness. "Um, I'm sorry, but I overheard your conversation with my Frylord. I think I might be able to help you a little...but you'll have to wait until I go on my break in...an hour. We can meet out back, by the garbage disposal. I can't talk about it in here, the Frylord wouldn't like it much."

A thousand things went through Dib's mind. Evidently she realized who he had mistaken her for. Should he apologize? She seemed a little upset. Maybe she was going to base helping him on whether or not he did. On the other hand, she seemed a bit afraid of her boss. Hell, HE was definitely afraid of her boss. Maybe it would be a worse idea to bring any of this up at all in front of him again.

"Um...so...what do I do until then?" he settled on asking.

She gave him a strange look. "Well, there is only one thing you can do on Foodcourtia. What can I get you?"

Finishing up his nachos (which evidently were fit for human consumption), Dib stretched and looked at his watch. He had about five minutes to walk around the restaurant, and as he did, he found the counter-girl already waiting for him. She looked very similar to almost every other Irken he'd seen, though slightly less bizzare without her enormous Schloogorgh's hat and goggles.

"So." he said, by way of greeting. "You said you'd help me with Zim?"

"I don't know how much I can help. But I knew Zim, yes. He was at one time, an Invader. Most of us want to be Invaders, you know. So did I - but I failed the test and was encoded into Food-services. Zim, on the other hand...well, he screwed up, and they sent him here as punishment. No pay or anything like that."

Dib nodded. A lot of what he'd heard coming out of Zim's leaders was starting to make sense. "Um, so...then what?" he pressed.

"So, Zim worked here as kind of a glorified slave. Then, our Tallest wished to make a second attempt at conquest. As far as we know, Zim was watching the broadcast of the Great Assigning on TV, and just...left...apparently under the delusion that he was still encoded as an Invader or something of the like. We all watched it... we all got a pretty good laugh out of it. Except for our Frylord of course, Zim was good help…cause he was unpaid, like I said before. Our Tallest sent him to some planet in the far reaches of the galaxy just to shut him up. They didn't even think there was going to be a planet there in the first place. I guess there was, and he survived there somehow. Thought he was going to take it over. Kept on bothering Our Tallest for supplies. Weapons. Food. Stuff like that. Our Tallest will only put up with things like that for so long you know. They're busy. I don't know all of what's happening now, but they did send for him back."

Seizing upon this, Dib perked up and cut her off mid-ramble. "Where do you think they're taking him now?"

"Well...there's a security hold in the Vortian system." said the counter-girl thoughtfully. "I would think they'd take him there. As a prisoner maybe...maybe they'll even delete his life-force from his pak. Depends on how badly they judge his crimes I suppose."

"Thanks a lot." Dib said, trying not to wince at the casual tone with which the last was delivered. "...just, one more thing."

"Oh, yes?"

"Well, if you wanted to be an Invader so bad, why didn't you just run out with Zim when he left? Or go to your Tallest and ask for a mission like he did?"

The expression on the Irken's face changed from mild to enraged so fast that Dib backed up a few steps. "What do you mean by such an insult!?" she roared, dropping her low-class lilt and sounding for all the world like Tak or Zim on one of their 'pitiful human' rants. "I am no defect! I serve my Frylord and my Tallest as the best cashier this galaxy has to offer!"

"Sorry, sorry." Dib said, putting up his hands in a placating gesture. "Didn't mean to offend. I don't have much experience with Irkens, I've only known Zim...and he does what he wants, when he wants."

The Irken still looked angry, but seemed to calm somewhat. "Zim's a defective. He's going to have to face up to that someday. If he's lucky, maybe they'll just stick him back here at Schloogorgh's. I have to get back to work. I can't say it's been a pleasure talking with you, but then, you are foreign alien filth." Her face softened a little. "I'm sorry, I guess that was a bit harsh of me. See? That's why they tell me I couldn't be an Invader. I'm too soft. That, and I'm not supposed to talk down to the customers. Anyway, I'll see you around sometime, maybe."

Ambling back inside, the heavy back door of the fast-food restaurant swung shut behind her, and Dib was left alone with his thoughts and another journey ahead of him. Perhaps the Irken cashier hadn't been able to give him the precise location of Zim, but she had painted an incredibly clear picture of her people's Empire. It also explained a lot it seemed, about what had happened in the past few years on Earth between himself and his missing nemesis. Judging by her reaction to any inference that she would be anything but a Cashier, and a good one - it must have been much easier for someone like Zim to block out any such idea that he could ever be anything but an Invader. The ego, the posturing...everything about the so-called alien menace was as clear as day.

Instead of anger however, Dib felt overwhelmed by pity, and all the more resolve to find Zim before he was put to death in such a horrific fashion.

Time to see if his cashier-girl's advice was of any value.

Author's Notes:

Again, a thank-you for the reviews. Please give generously. Personally, I don't like this chapter as much as the others - this is what I call a 'purpose and drive' chapter...but things will pick up next time. Plus, I didn't want to make things too easy for Dib. And don't worry. I don't do original female character romances. Nameless customer-service girl probably won't show up again...or at least, not in any sort of role other than the 'would you like fries with that' persuasion.

Next time, I promise Action. Danger. Excitement. And Zim. Also, I do believe that, if memory of my own outline serves me correctly, Dib gets some actually competent help from a...somewhat familiar and memorable source from the series.