I was re-reading old chapters and I was reminded of something I never covered that I completely forgot about but always wanted to address. Whoops. Hope you enjoy this smaller chapter, I needed to do a smaller one after that longer one.

Part 27: Empire

Zim kicked open his base door, flopping onto the couch immediately. His PAK did the work of taking off his disguise as Dib shut the door and sat beside him with a sigh. Zim turned his head to face the TV. He hummed and his PAK's top spot opened, a small speaker poking out. The music that started to play was calm, and Dib took a moment to recognize it was the music from the India band he'd shown Zim.

"Zim has decided he does not enjoy the parties. Too, too loud." Zim complains, kicking up a leg and letting it drop to emphasize his point. Dib had to begrudgingly agree. Even the music Zim was playing was at a low volume. Despite this, his antenna were still bobbing to the beats.

"Yeah…. Not as fun as they all make it seem. Then again, I am kind of an introvert." Dib confessed.

"Dib-stink, you are far too energized for that," Zim retorts, closing his eyes.

"First off, I'm shocked you know what an introvert is. Secondly, introverts can be energized; I just don't prefer crowds or people. I mean, I can handle them, I just don't go out to join any." Dib explained, kicking off his shoes. Zim copied him, his own boots hitting the floor with thuds. He stretched his claws and sighed contently.

"Dib-stink."

"Hm?"

"Your world is run very oddly."

Dib paused in stretching his own toes. "…That was a weird structure for that sentence, but I get what you said. Why do you say that?"

"Your governments are so…" Zim waved his hands in the air. "Broken apart. Your species has how many forms of government?"

"In practice?"

"Yes. … Wait, there are MORE?" Zim questioned incredulously. Dib snorted.

"Throughout human history? Yes. In current practice, however, there's…" Dib started to count on his fingers. "…about 5 that are the most common. But that's not including chiefdoms or smaller ones like that. There's democracy, a republic, a dictatorship, a communist nation, a monarchy, an oligarchy—wait, that's six."

Zim groaned loudly, throwing an arm over his face. "You can't even keep them straight!"

"Hey, there are a lot of cultures and countries out there, give me a break. I don't know them all. It's a lot of information to keep track of. I don't have a computer stapled to my back." Dib shoots back. Zim grunts, a smirk forming on his face.

"Touché."

"Why do you even care? You live in a country with a democracy-based government; one of the best ones you could have chosen to hide out in."

"Irkens follow our Tallest, no one else. They are the pinnacle of rule for the Empire. It is much more stream lined." Zim explains. Dib grimaced.

"Aren't they idiots?" he asks. Zim flinched, lowering his arm to glare at Dib. Dib was giving him a shit-eating grin. When Zim's glare grew he held his hands up. "I'm kidding! …Mostly. Okay, okay! I'm sorry!"

Zim retracted his fist, laying back down on the couch in his previous position. "Zim… does not totally disagree with Dib's observation. The current Tallest are… very one-dimensional in their goals."

"How do they get anything done?" Dib asks, kicking his legs; pondering if he could find anything consumable by humans in the Irken's kitchen. He doubted if there was it wouldn't have been tampered with my Gir yet. He heard Zim sigh.

"Zim doesn't even do the passive salute any longer…" Zim mumbles.

Dib looked at him curiously as he started for the elevator. Dib followed him on impulse now, the ride down silent. He followed Zim to one of the many labs, sliding into a swivel chair as Zim started to set tools out on a table. He was flicking his antennae, captivating Dib to the point he reached up and it hit his finger tip in one of the motions. Zim jerked away and looked at him in surprise. Dib pulled his hand back, trying not to laugh.

"Sorry. Your antennae were flicking, I didn't mean to."

Zim huffed, shaking his shoulders. "Zim does not care."

"What'd you mean by 'passive salute'? …Zim, what are you doing?" Dib asked. Zim paused, having turned for some mechanical arms that had dropped from the ceiling. He perked up an inquisitive antennae.

"PAK maintenance." He said nonchalantly as the arms latched into his PAK and it popped off his back. Dib jerked back, struggling to stay on the swivel chair as Zim caught the PAK and laid it down before him.

"WHY?!"

"…Because Zim needs to." Zim answered just as nonchalantly. Dib gaped at him.

"But doesn't that-"

"It does not hurt, Dib-stink. Yet. Zim has a timer. It is not the first time this has been done. It is a regular occurrence." Zim explains, grabbing a tool and working on the inside of the PAK. Dib watched him for what felt like an hour until he scooted close again.

"Um…. So, what's the purpose of the Tallest?" Dib asks, taking in the PAK now that he could see some of the inner workings of it. it was far more advanced than anything he'd built; or seen in his father's own lab. Oh, how his father would react to knowing that.

"The Tallest are the leaders. As Zim said upstairs, it is efficient. They are… Zim does not wish to say 'figure heads', as Dib once referred to other nobility on this planet. They do give orders that must be followed. However, the Triumvirate oversee the court cases and Smeet production and memories of Irkens." Zim explains, almost as an afterthought while he worked. Dib hummed curiously. "Essentially they oversee all of Irk and the Irken species. It is, as you can expect, a full time job."

"How long has that been the system? I mean, if the Control Brains control the largest issues why aren't they just the leaders?" Dib asks.

"Mmm…. Zim can't check that time with his PAK removed. However, Zim does know that it is like… a checks and balances system for power. The Control Brains, mighty as they may be, are not mobile. And are kept on Irk. They do not leave the planet."

Dib snorted, garnering Zim's attention for a moment. He raised an antennae at him. "It's just. What if the planet blows up, or there's a nuclear melt down or something? Here we're kind of doomed, but your species has space travel. Can't they figure out a way to move themselves?"

"Zim does not have the patience for…. Well… Zim would lie if he said he'd had not considered that. But the Control Brains thought it unnecessary." Zim admitted, returning to his PAK. He switched his tool out for two more. Dib eyed the device wearily.

"What's your timer at?"

"Four minutes… twenty-eight seconds."

Dib hummed. He refrained from looking at Zim's back. He wasn't eager to have THAT question answered just yet. Dib realized he'd zoned out when Zim suddenly picked his PAK up. Dib looked up at him, shocked to see his skin had grown fainter. The PAK slid back onto his back, Zim grunting and sliding into a chair of his own.

"How long did you have that off?" Dib asked worriedly.

"Six minutes and forty-eight seconds." Zim says. He set his forehead against a palm, the arm propped up on the table by the elbow. "Zim does not feel well."

"But you're going to be fine, right?"

"Zim will recover within minutes." Zim said, waving him off. Dib looked him over once; but decided against pushing the Irken.

"You said that it kills anything else that tries to use it, does that happen to other Irkens?" Dib asked. Zim cracked an eye open at him. He smirked.

"Do not be ridiculous. Suitable PAKs are recyclable. However, the need for PAK replacement is rare. If a PAK is that damaged, it's vital systems are likely also damaged; and that Irken is already dying."

"That's… cynical."

"It is a cynical topic. You are essentially asking if a body transplant is something feasible. Is it for humans?" Zim questions. Dib scoffed at him.

"No."

"Zim figured."

"Then why ask? Ugh, never mind." Dib sighed, waving it off. "So, about that term passive salute. What's that mean?"

"Ah… When showing the Almighty Tallest respect Irkens will wiggle our antennae. Zim… has noticed it happening less and less when the Tallest cross my mind."

"Well…. They did betray you, so…" Dib trailed off, biting his lip. Zim's eyes narrowed, but not towards him. He was grateful, because he enjoyed having all his limbs. Zim instead eventually sighed and laid his head down.

"The Triumvirate would have made that decision," Zim begins. "Zim went against a direct assignment."

"YOU?"

Zim groaned. "Yes, Dib-stink."

"But wouldn't it have been some Invader assignment? Or weapons development? Did you say those were your jobs?"

"Zim said those were jobs, yes. They were not… Zim's last job."

"What was so bad you defied a direct order?" Dib asked incredulously.

Zim was silent. He was questioning heavily telling Dib any of this information. While it wouldn't be of use to the human—now—it was… a sore subject, to say the least. He was in no mood to revisit that chapter of his life. But he was also in no mood to push it off and withstand this line of questioning inevitably later when Dib's curiosity grew again.

"Zim… was one such court case with the Triumvirate." He confessed. Dib balked at him.

"HUH?"

"Zim's… enthusiasm with weapons development may have… clouded his judgement temporarily. And I may have… forgotten the robot I had been piloting was still on Irk during Operation Impending Doom I."

Dib start to laugh, loudly, giving Zim a slight throb in one of his temples. He rubbed at it, already regretting his decisions for this entire weekend.

"You—HA—you actually!" Dib managed between wheezes. He started to choke, that action being the only reason Zim could discern that he stopped laughing. "I didn't think you had a record!"

"Is Dib implying he does NOT have a record with the local police?" Zim questioned, already knowing the most likely answer. His suspicions were confirmed when Dib suddenly clammed up. He looked away sheepishly, pouting.

"Okay, so I might have a small one. But, they're all misdemeanors. I never destroyed a portion of my own planet."

"In Zim's defense Zim blew up more than any other Invader," Zim says. He had a flash of when he'd tried that defense against Red. It hadn't worked then. He was not surprised it still did not work now, even against Dib.

"I don't think that counts when what you're blowing up is your own race." Dib teases. Zim glared at him.

"Red felt the same…" he grumbled. "Technically, Zim was banished, this being the first time. But when Zim heard of Operation Impending Doom II, ZIM WOULD NOT PASS THAT UP!"

Dib watched Zim point at him in his declaration, a wide smile on his face. Dib gently pushed the hand away, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, but you still blew up Irk."

"Zim did not destroy Irk, Zim merely…. Um… only significantly damaged it…" Zim said, his voice growing quieter as he realized the correction wasn't much better. He smacked his head against the table, the headache returning. "Zim addresses his mistakes."

"I mean…" Dib's smile grew. "You did still beat out the other Invaders."