Title: Frequency
Author: Mizander
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Invader Zim? Whazzat? Well, whatever it is, it's not mine. From what I've been told however - it belongs to this one guy named Jhonen Vasquez...and this other company called Nickolodeon.

Chapter 5:

Dib raced through the corridors at breakneck speed, listening to the clunk of many pairs of running feet. He had not looked back to see how close their pursuers were, nor could he distinguish friend or foe from the erratic rhythm. His own legs pumped relentlessly, and he doggedly ignored the increasing protests of his lungs that commanded him to stop, despite the certain doom that would bring. As he went, he berated himself mentally for all the times that he had skived out of phys-ed class or turned down invitations from other skool children to play dodgeball or foursquare at lunch time. Compared to his companions, he appeared considerably out of shape.

Skoodge and Zim were on his heels with the alternating dire curses and attempts to hurry Zim along from the former as the only reassurance he had that they had not been captured or killed. Out in front, GIR lead the pack while wailing his usual insane song. Under more normal circumstances, Dib would have suggested they all be checked for some kind of mental deficiency, but despite his abysmal idiocy, GIR seemed to have an innate survival instinct buried deep within. Dib had seen it time and again during his earthly encounters with Zim - and as strange as it would seem he had faith that the little robot would get them all to safety or killed in the attempt. A risky gamble, but a necessary one as well, given that there really didn't seem to be much other viable choice.

Synonymous with that moment in Dib's thoughts, GIR skidded to a sudden halt and nearly caused his unsuspecting group of followers to crash into eachother as they pulled up short. With no background noise, Dib's sense of impending doom went from zero to thirty as he heard their pursuers clearly for the first time, steadily closing in.

"We have to go in here!" GIR informed them in a sing-song voice, as though he had not a care in the world.

At the edges of his peripheral vision Dib could see Zim hanging deliberately at the back of the group, chest heaving with fatigue, but otherwise listless. Starkly in contrast, Skoodge stepped forward, antennae flicking about wildly to scrutinize the door. "This is the ship bay isn't it?"

"YEP!"

"Isn't there another way out?" Dib asked, eying the thick barrier warily and fearing the answer.

Skoodge shook his head. "This is Irken architectural planning. Which means that the entirety of the planet would have been made into one specific structure."

"No exit huh?" Dib eyed the lifeless Zim and began to wonder if for once, he had the right idea.

"Except this one." Skoodge confirmed, his tone soldier-like. The erratic twitching of his antennae was the only indication that he might be in some way nervous. He sighed, making a brave attempt at bravado. "Well then, I guess..." Dib never heard the end of that sentiment, for as Skoodge stuck his hands on his hips he trailed off. They both looked for a second in mild disbelief at the stolen keycard that still hung, forgotten until that moment on his belt.

Wasting no time with words, he held the card against a small pad by the door and the four hurried inside. As a final precaution, the Irken shut the door behind them and slammed his fist onto the sister keycard pad. The unfortunate device sparked once and then blinked out, clearly dead. Dib might have been surprised, but aside from the numerous times that Zim had out ran and out powered him, his jaw was currently sporting a swelling, rather purple bruise from the earlier skirmish. It almost made him feel a little safer.

That feeling was squelched almost immediately as the door flew open, sending them all racing once more. Apparently, the lock that Skoodge had destroyed was not technologically connected with the one on the outside. The unfortunate effect of this move had efficiently locked them in a room with their troupe of pursuers, all of whom were packing some rather nasty weapons judging by the deep burns the bolts of energy were leaving in the walls, floor and surrounding vessels.

"How are we all going to fit into the cruiser?" Dib demanded, as he fought to get his breath back. There was barely enough room for himself and GIR and they'd be rather cramped if all four tried to squeeze in.

"We're just going to have to deal!" yelled Skoodge who was already halfway inside, and his tone gave little room for debate. Warily, Dib climbed quickly in to the pilot's chair, and was closely followed by GIR and Zim - the later having been hoisted in bodily by Skoodge who found his seat last, scrambling across Dib's lap to wedge himself in front of the controls to the right.

GIR immediately became preoccupied by his master, who sat hunched in the back of the ship, muttering under his breath to himself. Dib had more important things to worry about, but at least Zim was showing signs of life. Normal (for Zim) signs of life at that, if the rise and fall of his intonation had anything to do with it.

More pressing to their situation at the time was the fact that the pursuing soldiers had learned that their current weaponry wasn't doing much to breach the hull of Tak's ship, and they were soon scrambling for the more powerful cannons their own modes of transportation would supply. Again, Dib panicked as he realized the airlock doors were closed - trapping them still. Once the ship cannons started going off, there wasn't much they would be able to do to dodge the destructive lasers coming at them from all angles. Dib was by no standards an ace pilot, and even Tak's weaponry wouldn't have much to offer, outnumbered as he was.

Losing his head completely, Dib shut his eyes and threw his arms against his face as though it would protect him from the impending onslaught. The sound of a blast close by, followed by violen lurch of movement caused him to pull in tighter on himself. This action was punctuated further by a wave of vertigo as the ship took flight. Daring to open his eyes, he could not help but shake his head in awed amazement. He had barely time to marvel as he was nearly thrown from his seat due to Skoodge enacting a spectacular barrel roll out of the hole he had blasted through the airlock himself.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but your leaders were idiots to get rid of someone like you!" Dib exclaimed, feeling slightly humbled.

Skoodge's mouth thinned a little in response, and he thrust the controls at Dib. "You concentrate on driving the ship, I'll concentrate on clearing our path."

Deciding that this was neither the time nor the place to try and make headway on that particular branch of their acquaintance, Dib did as the Irken soldier ordered and caught up the controls to the ship just in time. Even given their situation, he wanted desperately badly to execute a move as cool as Skoodge had, but he found it was all he could do to merely dodge the potshots that were being taken at them.

Skoodge was not wasting his shots, but rather concentrating the fire on anyone who came in too close. His expression changed dramatically as the struggle wore on, the gleam in his eyes taking on a fanatical spark that could have rivalled Zim's. One particularly well-placed shot of firey laser death sent an Irken voot cruiser into a tailspin collision course with the metallic prison-structure planet. Victoriously, the Irken leapt into as much of a standing position as the cramped space would allow and shook his fist at the smoldering black blot on the otherwise unmarred walls. "FOOL!" He roared. "DO NOT MESS WITH THE IRKEN ELITE!"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, when the full impact of where he was and what he was doing seemed to catch up with him. The black-gloved claw shook violently against the dash of the ship, and the short Irken sat back down hard into his seat. It was in that crucial moment that a voot that had tailed them managed to get in a poor, but debilitating shot that glanced off their left rear thruster, crippling it enough to slow them down.

Skoodge looked at Dib, wincing almost apologetically as a second, better aimed shot struck the thruster again, causing a brief struggle against the controls that had they lost, would have resulted in them joining their predecessor as a decoration on the side of the Vortian prison.

Not for the first time since starting his trip, Dib felt near hopelessly lost and out of his league. Earth had been his territory and he had had merely one alien to deal with. Now, they had many more, each with extensive knowledge of this part of space. Although Skoodge was an excellent guide and shot, they were undeniably completely surrounded. For each cruiser he crippled, another arrived to take it's place. Dib had always been an optimistic individual however, and even staring what looked like certain failure in the face, he couldn't help but hope for the best case scenario. In the movies, something always came along to save the…

Dib could barely believe his luck as three of the closest attacking ships suddenly exploded with no apparent warning. By the looks of surprise on his face, Skoodge evidently hadn't caused that to occur. Looking around, Dib could see no evidence of any help. This, however brought to mind a more frightening concept.

"Uh…Skoodge? Do Irken ships normally randomly implode or anything?" He could picture it now. Things like that had always seemed to happen in the past, especially with his precious video tapes of Zim. Every time he'd managed to get away with a picture or video intact, something would come along out of the blue to destroy his hard-won victory anyway. The last thing they needed was a miraculous escape, only to explode thanks to faulty Irken technology. Just how HAD Tak pieced together this ship anyway?

"No…" Skoodge's response was a mite irritated but he was looking at the screen curiously, having momentarily abandoned his gunman post. Outside the Voot's dome, Irken ships continued to vaporize under the onslaught of their invisible savior. "..but that would make them explode." He pointed excitedly at a random bit of what still appeared to be garble to Dib. When the human looked at him confused, he translated. "That says that there's a cloaked ship somewhere in the vicinity."

It took Dib a moment to process what the Irken had told him, but suddenly it struck him. "The Resisty! They have a cloaked ship! It's gotta be them!"

Skoodge was still giving him a bit of a funny look, but it eased into a more relaxed expression finally. "I guess I've got to get used to being on the opposing side myself. I do wish they had a cooler name though."

Whatever Dib had been expecting, it certainly was not this. "You're going to join us then?" he asked.

"Of course I am. First of all, I can't go back to the Empire. I'd be executed on the spot after this little escapade. Secondly I'm a soldier and I'd feel better knowing I was doing something for the common good... even if my opinions on what that 'common good' is have to change. Third, I don't even want to go back."

Dib gave him a grin as the communications device crackled to life. Every muscle in Dib's body relaxed as the Resisty hailed his ship to tell him they were taking them in. It was all over. He'd…in some small way, won. Victory for Dib.

Once safely inside the Resisty ship, Dib realized with a start that he'd nearly forgotten all about Zim, safely tucked away in the back of the ship with GIR fussing over him. He'd been so quiet – so unlike Zim at all. As he clambered out of the ship, the other members of the Resisty gathered to greet him like they had been the first time he'd met them – he heard the clang of GIR as he leapt from the ship, and Skoodge.

"So Zim." The other Irken outcast began in a friendly tone, "Are you going to join our new cause as well?"

"HOW DARE YOU!" Zim screamed at the top of his voice in lieu of a reply. "I WILL TELL OUR TALLEST OF YOUR INSUBORDINATION!"

Dib didn't see the punch, but he certainly heard it. The next thing he knew, Skoodge was falling past him, landing motionless on the floor. The spark had seemed to dissapear from his eyes, and he made no move to get up. There wasn't time to attend to that however, as Zim rose out of the ship and advanced on Dib with all the fury of a short, green angel of death.

In the end, it had taken at least five aliens to drag the screetching Irken away, still ranting in a spectacular display of delusional madness about being an Invader and The Tallest. He could still be heard down the hall, even after the door closed behind him.

The general attitude aboard The Massive was no less than terror of the sort that breeds nightmares. The Almighty Tallest were righteously pissed off, and that was many different kinds of bad for everyone involved. Several innocent Irkens had already been victim to random acts of violence, various expensive items had been broken, and more than one smeet had already learned a plethora of rather interesting words. Even Purple could admit that he didn't know that many creative curses – a great many of which had been devised by Red simply for the occasion.

"Though, I really don't know why you're so angry." Purple smirked hopefully at his co-ruler in an attempt to calm his ranting. "Sure it's irritating and all since we don't get to kill Zim, AND he's been captured by the enemy. If you think about it though, it's ZIM. He'll cause them just as much trouble, if not more than he caused us. Am I right, or am I right? I think I'm right." Purple paused a moment to savor the logic and rationale in his thought. It wasn't that often that he got to be the pinnacle of reason in their day-to-day dealings.

Red snarled, apparently unconvinced. "That's not the issue here. Did you stop to think that we had TWO traitors escape today?"

Purple frowned. "Invader Skoodge? But he's short."

"Yes, AND fat." Red finished the thought, then paused to pin his co-ruler with a significant look. "He's also a good Invader."

Purple looked confused. "I still don't see what the problem is." There had to be one though, ever since they'd become the Tallest, he'd never seen Red actually look troubled. The lifestyle just didn't permit for things like that. "Ah! That's it, isn't it! We need nachos!" He eyed the service drone. "YOU! Bring us Nachos. And would it kill you not to skimp on the cheese this time?"

Red forced down an angry groan. Sometimes Purple just didn't get it. On the other hand, nachos did sound…pretty good.

"Ah, the Resisty'll probably squish them both like bugs." Purple chortled, spraying the reutrning drone with the excess of cheese.

Red leaned over, grabbed a handful and joined his partner in laughter. Maybe Purple was right about the whole thing. After all, if nothing else, they were The Tallest. They could do whatever they wanted.

"HEH! Bug."

Author's Notes:

UGH. I hope this chapter is somewhat worth the time it took to get it out...twice. My computer blue-screened the first time I wrote it, and I lost everything. It took me this long to try and write it again. sigh

Er...there's a couple of projects in the works - please look for my new story soon.