Zim hopped into the trash can elevator. "Computer, take me down to the labs."

The elevator started its descent, and Zim tapped his chin. "This shouldn't be too bad. I'm an elite soldier, some discomfort for a while is manageable, and I'll have a new squishy servant to help around the house. Which is more than anyone else around here does!" He called up. "Except for Minimoose. Minimoose is good."

"I can stop this elevator right now and you can crawl the rest of the way down."

"Touchy." Zim rolled his eyes. The elevator slid to a stop and he marched out, hopping into his computer chair and leaning forward slightly to drive it towards the screens. "Alright, pull up all the information you can about smeets and breeding back when this was common."

Hundreds of articles and diagrams popped up. Zim easily sorted out the math-y lists out- no use learning about the birthing rate of Smeetery 213 or other nonsense like that.

"How many irkens in the past… hmm, fifteen eras have reproduced like this?"

"Insufficient data."

"Insuf- answer me!" Zim slammed a fist against the console.

"Look, if that information is out there, I can't get at it," The computer said. "It's sure as hell not common. The Control Brains probably keep a lid on it to stop people from doing this. They don't want anybody screwing around willy-nilly and ruining the gene pool."

Zim ground his teeth. "Fine. Interspecies breeding, then."

The computer whirred. "There are a few cases, but all of them that were reported died."

"Clearly they must have been weaklings." Zim scoffed. "Visuals on screen."

"You sure?"

"You're questioning me?"

"Nah, just don't want you throwing stuff at me if you don't like it. Again." The computer obeyed, and Zim's eyes darted over the largest screen.

"Zoom in on that one with purple eyes." Zim's antenna flicked as he scanned the irken up and down. They looked to be of similar size to him, and he saw a curve in their abdomen. It didn't look much like any fat irkens he knew- usually, the weight was deposited about evenly through mostly the chest, torso, and upper legs, creating a solid base that could absorb shock. This just looked like an open target right to the spooch. "Any more pictures of this one?"

"That's Elite Flick, they had an accident on a mission and were taken in for experimentation."

"Experimentation?" Zim's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"They made it to three months." Pictures flashed through, a progression as their stomach swelled and their skin paled from a healthy green to a sickly pale mint. In the last few, they were sitting down and it looked like there was a boulder shoved under their uniform. Zim's antennae pressed flat against his head- that looked... wrong."There were tests to make sure it wasn't contagious and how it affected them so they wouldn't lose a bunch more people."

"How big was the smeet?" Zim's tugged at his antennae, disgust and fear seeping through his tone.

"About twelve pounds. It was at least twice the size yours will be, and it was half some kind of spider-y thing. Humans are structured way more like irkens than that thing was."

Zim let out a sigh of relief. "Height?"

"About two units taller than you."

"There's nothing to worry over, then! Not that I was worried." Zim cheered up immediately. "How did they find out about it anyhow?"

"It was only a reconnaissance mission, they were with a team once they came back."

"Well, I've contacted the Tallests with disguises on before, I'll just have to wear something poofy and they'll never know. And if this goes well, it could create some resilient slaves." He grinned. "Side effects from any of those making hybrids?"

More whirring from the computer. "Nausea, temperature and mood fluctuation, energy loss, and cravings, as well as some minor Pak malfunctions. It looks similar to what general pregnancy was, just more intense."

"Hmm… so pretty much what the Dib said." Zim leaned back, feeling the floating chair bob slightly. He prodded at his midsection. "If you cause too much trouble, you're going home with him, you know."

Surprisingly, the smeet said nothing, but Zim supposed he didn't really expect it to. For now, he had research to do.