Author's Notes: I went away for a week, and come home only to find my internet has been disconnected. Rage!
This might have a lot of really short chapters, or I might cut out a chunk of the plot I had been thinking up, I don't know yet. This story is a combination of 'This is what I really think Irk would be like' and 'Hey, giant robot brain monsters are cool!' so I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this yet.
I don't own anything, blah. Blahhh. You should know this.
And thank you all for your kind reviews.
Fer once again sat on his lonely hill, looking past the dark shadows his people created and out into space. His clothes were folded neatly under his Pak a few meters away. He could now go nearly an hour without the Pak after consistently sneaking out here at night, but he dared not stay out longer than an hour, lest he be noticed missing from the common rooms. He wondered if some life form on one of those stars was looking back.
Trailing his hands through the red sands (A/N: Who could resist?), Fer stood up, began humming, and let himself spin. He did enjoy working on Voot runners, it was programmed into his head since birth, but it was slowly becoming unbearable. He was making simple mistakes, and failed to catch them. Every day he was shocked by a security camera's tazer for becoming distracted by his own thoughts and dozing off. All he wanted was to be outside, unclothed and unPAKed, alone and silent. The opposite of his working conditions. It was like his planet was calling to him, and him alone...
He stopped facing the opposite direction, looking out into darkness. He could see the glow from another facility's light to the right, but to the left, nothing. He wondered if there was a closed down factory there. He wondered if there had been a factory, but if it had been bulldozed, like the small building previously stationed on Fer's hill. He wondered if in that direction, Irkanes, the only other organism that thrived on Irk like the Irken race, grew there. If it did, Fer could survive there without the Pak. He could run there, and nobody would look for him. They would think he had snuck onto a ship somehow and left. Before he left, he would break and bury the Pak, and they would never be able to contact him again, not even the Control Brain.
He moved to look at his Pak and lump of clothes. Break the Pak...
One hour. Over an hour, and he would die without it. He only would have one peaceful, silent hour before he would be forced to once again wear the Pak and return to his quarters before he was reprimanded.
Fer clenched his fist. He didn't want an hour, he wanted a lifetime without that, that thing, without those things that called themselves Irken. Did they even care about their home planet anymore? In the name of great Irk, his ass! And the people in charge of the show were the worst! The Tallests, they didn't do anything besides make retarded decisions based on their moods and whims! They weren't leaders! They only had that position because of their height! And what in the name of Irk was the control brain, anyway? A giant brain? From what? Who's idea was it that the best thing to lead the Irken race was something unidentifiable?
Fer at some point had begun punching the sand, but now slowed his rage, his outburst subsiding. The Control Brain and the Tallests...
But height wasn't everything...
He could overthrow the Tallests, take their place. As long as the rest of the Irkens had enough snacks and were fat and happy Fer didn't even need to worry about them. The Control Brain.. if he could get close enough to it, he could eliminate it, he knew for sure. The Brain must have a complex computer system to keep it alive and functioning, and it wouldn't be hard to mess it up. It probably also affected all the PAKs of every Irken alive. It might mess up the Pak's programming, the PAKs might even stop working...
You'd kill a lot of Irkens.
Fer fell back on the sand. Red spots of dust floated up and obscured his vision. It was a crazy idea, but maybe not that crazy. It wasn't like he would be able to kill, though. The thought of his fellow workers lying dead, all of them, because of him, was something too hurtful to fathom. He wouldn't...
But if it would free dear Irk...
He wouldn't...
A small tingle began in his legs and spine, but Fer hadn't noticed it yet. Suddenly, his foot began twitching, and his whole leg went into a spasm. Flailing up, reality hit Fer. He had gone to an hour, and his body was no longer able to sustain itself without machinery. Clawing at the sand, he managed to drag himself over to his Pak, unable to grasp it as his fingers began twitching out of his control. He knocked the Pak over, then managed to throw his back onto it. Instantly the cords snapped out of the Pak into the holes on Fer's back, and after a moment the spasms stopped. Fer took a breath. It felt different. He wanted to cry.
He looked at his clothes with gloom, then began to get dressed. He would have to hurry back. His time here tonight was up.
The sadness in Fer's chest wasn't normal. He felt like he wanted to break..
'Like my planet,' he thought, 'my precious Irk is breaking. Like my heart is breaking for it. Like my mind is breaking for it...'