***I don't own Invader Zim or Star Wars: The Old Republic!***

Dialogue Key

"Hi, Floor! Make me a sammich!" = Regular Speech

'That's better! ...I guess.' = Someone's Thoughts

"I made mashed pi-tay-toes!" = Someone Yelling

Gone is Zim? Arrival on Korriban!

"NOW… prepare your starving, gurgling child-bellies for the awesome eventuality of DINNER!"

At the Membrane household, Doctor Membrane had just finished cooking dinner for his family thanks to his robot chef assistant, Foodio 3000. Just call him Foodio. The robot opened up his cooking chamber body, which I assume is similar to a pressure cooker, and shot out several servings of food that made Doctor Membrane's daughter, Gazline 'Gaz' Membrane, stare wide-eyed in amazement. On her plate now is a good sized serving of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, and an ice cold glass of juice to drink. Mostly, she's amazed that it didn't explode as soon as it hit the plate, like it usually does.

"Foodio 3000 hopes you love what I have made." said the chef robot before he frowned and asked "Also, what is love?"

"Looks great, Dad. I'm gonna eat that food." Gaz said.

But as she picked up her fork to take a bite, she was stopped by her normally too-busy-for-family father.

"Hold up now, daughter! Isn't it time your brother joined us?" he asked as he gestured to the empty chair where his son usually sits.

"Oh, man, no." groaned Gaz in a combination of annoyance and horror. "Since Zim vanished, Dib's been in his room for, like, a million years. I hardly recognize him anymore. He just sits there in that chair getting grosser… smellier."

"He sure does, but try to be more understanding. Dib's finally letting go of his silly obsession with aliens and ghosts and all his other non-scientific nonsense." said Doctor Membrane as he started assembling a scientifically advanced eating utensil before pressing a button and creating a hard light fork. "And it's not easy for him. Imagine if you stopped believing in, oh, video games."

"Don't even joke about that, Dad!" growled Gaz as she crushed her fork in her hand.

This didn't bother Foodio, who quickly replaced Gaz's destroyed fork with a new one, or Doctor Membrane as they're both used to how Gaz gets when someone mentions the possibility of her outgrowing something as addictive as video games. Even Doctor Membrane was fascinated by the old 8-bit Mario and Sonic video games when he was still a child right up until he was about halfway through his *Hi Skool* years, but don't tell his kids about that.

"Honey, letting go of silly ideas is just part of growing up. Why, as a child, I thought sharks were my friends." Doctor Membrane said.

But then he dramatically turned around and removed his bicep length black latex glove to reveal a robotic replacement arm that was hidden underneath.

"I know better now…" he said darkly as he flexed the mechanical fingers of his prosthetic… before slipping his glove back on and turning to his daughter. "So, try to be more supportive. He's your brother, after all."

"Okay, Dad." Gaz relents.

She quickly puts on a hazmat suit and picks up Dib's food. Walking down a dark hallway to her brother's room, Gaz shudders at the eventuality of facing her now totally disgusting brother. His paranoia has turned him into something that NOBODY would want to be around if they can avoid it. Knocking on the door, she calls out to her brother from what she hopes is a safe distance.

"Hey, Dib! Dad says come to dinner!"

"You know I can't leave my post, Gaz. Just shove the food in here." Dib calls back.

"Where's the shoving stick?" Gaz asks. "I can't shove without the shoving stick."

As Gaz opens the door, we can now see that Dib has really let himself go. He's stayed in that chair by his desk for so long that he's neglected his own health. He's so overweight that he has a very distinct potbelly and doesn't seem capable of getting out of his chair without help, his hair has grown so long that it now reaches the floor, his eyes have that weird crusty stuff built up in the corners, his nose is running a little, his teeth have pretty much all gone to hell, and I think I see signs of acne on parts of his face and forehead.

"Zim's still out there, Gaz, so I have to wait and watch. No one else will. They could never see the truth. Why, though? Brainwashing? Mind control? Brain-erasing ghosts?" Dib pondered as he went into a monologue. "Nobody believes me now, but I'll make them see. I'll expose Zim to the world, and open humanity's eyes to the danger they were in all along. Even Dad, world-famous man of science will say, 'I believe you, Dib. I'm sorry I ever doubted you.'."

"That's the worst Dad impression ever, but, Dib, let it go. Zim's been gone a long time, and as far as you know, he might just be gone for good." Gaz said as she tried to reason with her brother. "I'd be willing to bet that Zim will never, ever come back."

Oh, but if only young Gaz knew just how wrong she is.

Zim's POV.

Hello there. For all who are wondering who I am, it's very simple.

I AM ZIM! Former Irken Invader Zim. But I know I was never an invader. The Tallest merely sent me to Earth in an effort to get rid of me. They had hoped I would have just ended up in an endless void or possibly died by flying into a sun or a random black hole, or something. But in doing so and leaving their secret logs unencrypted, all they've done is given me enough hatred to tap into my previously unknown Force abilities. A Sith Overseer here on Korriban caught wind of my strength in the Force, so they covertly came to Earth and brought me here for a chance to become a part of the Sith Empire. An empire that all Irken kind normally tries to stay away from. Tallest Miyuki and Tallest Spork, the predecessors of Red and Purple, tried to invade Imperial Space once before. They failed horribly, and many Irken soldiers died in that one battle.

But my point is that ever since the discovery of my Force Sensitivity and my apparent mastery of a blade, I'm the first Irken to ever be enrolled in the Sith Academy.

My shuttle has just arrived on the Sith planet known as Korriban, and I can already feel the power of the Dark Side simply oozing from the very sands of the planet. I exited the shuttle flanked by two Imperial troops in pilot clothing. Rather than my usual Irken Invader uniform that I used to wear, I am now garbed in basic gray acolyte attire with a Vibroblade strapped to my back. And there's a couple of other funny things that happened to me during my initial training.

It turns out my PAK really wasn't needed for me to survive like I initially thought. A couple of Imperial scientists ran several tests on me and discovered that I actually would grow to be a very tall Irken one day. About as tall as the Tallest, actually. Topping out at an even height of five feet, maybe five foot eleven inches if I'm lucky. That PAK that was installed into me when I was a Smeet was actually a device that would prevent me from reaching a certain height due to the Control Brains believing me to be a Defective. Lucky for me, it was able to be removed and I hit quite the rapid growth spurt. I currently stand at 4 feet eight inches and have retained a thin yet strong body type. And my antennae have grown a little longer, too.

But as I took a moment to take in my surroundings, I noticed a separate shuttle with a batch of former slaves disembarking. Although I made a note of one individual who was wearing fancier robes. Likely a prodigy who is being trained in the Sith Arts.

"You there, slave! Stop standing around and go join your fellow rubbish!" a rude voice said to me.

I looked in the direction of the voice and saw a rather annoyed looking Hyooman walking my way. He has reddish brown hair, blue eyes, and white skin that has a bit of a tan to it. On his right eye is a reddish tribal tattoo, and he has a pointy beard on his chin that, if I'm being honest, looks more like he ripped it off of an Earth goat's face and glued it to his own. He's wearing dual tone red armor like that of a warrior, and has a single Lightsaber hilt clipped to his belt.

"I'm sorry, are you talking to me? Because I see no slave here." I ask him in honest confusion.

Perhaps my shuttle arriving at the exact time as that shipment of slaves threw him off.

"Don't play dumb, slave. You know that all new slaves in this group are under scrutiny by the Sith Lord, Lord Zash, to find one worthy of being her apprentice. Although, I must admit this is the first time I've ever seen an Irken as a slave." the man all but growled.

"Oh, but I am afraid it is you who is mistaken, Harkun." said a new voice. "This is no mere slave."

Harkun and I looked and found a man in standard armor for a Sith Warrior walking towards us. He looks to be what humans refer to as African or African-American in terms of physical appearance with dark skin, light black hair, and brown eyes. He has a strong build, but the deeper wrinkles around certain areas of his face show that he is getting on in years. Clipped to his belt is a single Lightsaber.

"I would appreciate if you would leave my new charge be, Harkun. Simply focus on the acolytes you will be training." the man instructed.

But I can tell from the amount of power he is giving off that it isn't a request. Harkun grumbled and gave me one last glare before he walked back to where his supposed 'students' are waiting for him. I can already tell that I'm not going to like this guy.

"Terribly sorry, acolyte. It seems your arrival was poorly timed, and your shuttle arrived at the same time as a recent shipment of slaves. Don't mind Harkun over there, he simply hates his job and the fact that he has to work with slaves. Not to mention the fact that he detests aliens with a passion." the man said. "Ah, but where are my manners? I am Overseer Tremel, and I shall be your instructor here at the academy."

He extended his hand to shake and I returned the gesture, giving Tremel a firm handshake as custom dictates.

"A pleasure to meet you, Overseer. My name is Zim, and I hope to do well under your tutelage." I said to him with respect.

Hey, after putting up with Dib and everyone always turning a blind eye to his antics, anyone who stands up for me is okay in my book.

"Good. Now that we have gotten pleasantries out of the way, there is much to do and every minute is critical. You see, Zim, for decades, I've administered the trials that prove who is and who is not worthy to join the Sith Order." he explained. "The trials are a chance to weed out the weak. Those who face them either survive to become Sith, or die."

Having confidence in my skills, I simply spoke what was on my mind at the time. All the while trying not to revert to the arrogant personality of the PAK that the Control Brains had used on me.

"I won't disappoint you." I said simply.

"Good. I risked a lot to make this happen." Tremel said as I raised a nonexistent eyebrow at his words. "Yes. You are here and ahead of schedule because of me. I expect you to obey. You face your trials, you serve me, and I will make you the most powerful acolyte here."

"Sounds like a plan." I said with a nod.

"Come. Walk with me." Tremel instructed as he started down the path from the landing pad.

I gave a final look to my trooper escorts and gave them a nod of thanks, which the female trooper responded in kind with a bow. As she and her male companion returned to the shuttle, I jogged down the path to catch up to Tremel. I can already tell that things are about to get hectic.

"The trials themselves are difficult enough, but they are hardly the greatest threat you face." Tremel explained to me as we came to a stop at a shielded door. "There's an acolyte here named Vemrin. He's your enemy, and he will try to kill you. We must prepare you."

Why am I not surprised that I already have an enemy at this academy. No surprise there, considering how quickly Dib became my enemy when I first arrived on Earth. I'm just glad the Sith Empire took me in, so that I could finally get off of that spinning ball of… FILTHY... rr-rr-rrr… dirt!

Still, I couldn't help but say "But I just got here. How is it I already have an enemy?"

"All you need to know is that you are a threat to him, and he to you. We'll make sure you can stand up to that threat." Tremel said simply before pointing to the Vibroblade on my back. "That practice sword you've arrived with is insufficient-the blade of lesser acolytes. You need a dominating weapon."

"And where might I find such a weapon?" I asked.

"I am glad you asked, Zim, for I shall tell you where to find one now. In the tomb of Ajunta Pall, there's an old armory. A strong Sith Warblade awaits you there. The tomb is thick with K'lor'slugs-deadly, savage creatures. Be speedy but careful. They've been the end of many an acolyte." Tremel explained to me.

I couldn't help but let just a sliver of my old personality show through at the mention of the K'lor'slugs.

"If they attack me, I'll see to it that they are the ones who are ended! For I AM ZIM!"

I slapped my hands over my mouth and saw the overseer was slightly startled by my outburst. Not that I blame him. The hyoomans back on Earth never really paid much attention to my outbursts, but here, everyone notices these things.

"Terribly sorry, Overseer. That was part of a habit I'm trying to kick." I said apologetically. "Just tell me where to go and let's just… forget that that outburst of mine ever happened."

"I don't blame you for wanting to kick such a habit. I had a very similar one when I was entering my adolescent years." Tremel said with a bit of empathy. "Anyway, the tomb of Ajunta Pall is just beyond this door. You can't miss the entrance. Once you acquire the warblade, I suggest you spend some time in the tomb bloodying it. Then come to me in my chambers in the academy."

I nod in understanding of my instructions as Overseer Tremel walks off to the Academy. I sigh and slump forward at my initial screwup. It's times like these that I really wish Gir was still in one piece. The Tallest may have blew him to pieces, long story I'll tell you later, but I was able to save his core and store it away for when I can get some better parts to rebuild him. It will take time and money (which will take awhile to get, since I currently only have 50 credits to my name), but I'm positive I can put him back in one piece!

But first, I must acquire my warblade and pass my trials. And so, I am off!

***To Be Continued…***

*Since the word "school" is written as "skool" in the Invader Zim universe, I figured that the term "High School" would be written as "Hi Skool".*

If you enjoyed this chapter and enjoy my new story, please like and follow if you so desire and don't forget to leave a review telling me what you think of this story idea. May the Force be with you, and I'll see you all in my next update. Buh-Bye now!