Proofreader: Kira Kyuu

Chapter 5: Pak

Dib quickly found himself regretting his earlier words as a door appeared at the end of the hall. It was then that the calmness their bonding session had managed to create now evaporated like mist to the wind. It was then that he realized that he couldn't do this. This was madness! He-he couldn't!

"W-wa-wait," gasped Dib. "C-can we wait on-on this."

The half-ling soon found himself trying to pull away, his limbs shivering as one organ or the other failed him.

With a grunt, Zim merely tightened his grip around the other's middle his claws digging into Dib's side. Dib yelped, losing his grip on the floor, but he didn't give up. Soon his fingers were trying to loosen Zim's grip around his waist, panicked breaths escaping him.

The true Irken could only thank Irk that the half-ling's claws hadn't fully developed yet. But, despite his obvious struggles, Zim could not blame him for suddenly being petrified. The Invader knew Dib was second guessing himself. He knew it wasn't because of the pain … it was because of the unknown.

"Come now, Dib-worm. I know you are nervous, but fighting it is something you can do later. Now, I need you to start calming down. That's all, try to count your breaths. They are quick and shallow, and I need you to try and slow them down. Just count."

He sincerely wanted to listen to what Zim had said, but the moment they stepped through the door, into the Voritan's lab, his breath caught and his eyes jumped around the enclosure. It reminded him of one of Zim's labs, except the walls were made of what appeared to be dried dirt with light brown wallpaper covering the dirt where it could. It was shanty, like it was a lab meant for a battle field. In fact, it was easy to tell that the lab had been in use for a long time. The wear and tear was evident on the tools, multiple used and broken pieces adorning unused shelves like a collection.

Yet, despite the definite third-world décor the lab had going for itself, the lighting was what bothered him. It was mostly dim in the room. The lights were all pushed up into the corners of the walls, save for a few tentacle lamps over desks, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was the brightest light of them all which hung tauntingly over a metal examination table. Said table had crude metallic arms hanging above it with none-to-friendly sharp tips on most of them.

But, before Dib could further protest, heaviness suddenly formed in his lungs and his breathing stopped all together. The Halfling's eyes widened and he quickly reached for his throat. His panic only increased as he felt his throat. It was as if his throat had just swollen up. Before Dib could properly think it over, or panic for that matter, he pushed away from his support and fell to the floor on his knees. Tears were streaming down his eyes as he clawed at his throat, trying to regain even the smallest of breaths.

The Voritan, fiddling with the pak on a nearby table, cursed. He threw a look towards Zim who was now leaning over the Halfling, trying to get him to release his grip on his throat.

"What took you so long in the halls?" growled the Voritan as he slammed the pak shut.

Zim immediately glared at the scientist, his eyes saying the threat for him.

The scientist sighed and pulled his goggles back over his eyes as he walked over towards the examination table, pak in hand, "Never mind. Get him on the table and strap him down. I won't have time to administer a sedative."

Dib shivered at the scientist's words, but wasn't able to pull away as Zim effortlessly threw him over his shoulder and quickly got him over to the table with natural grace. The Irken then set Dib on the chilling surface, ripping an arm from the ceiling and grabbing Dib's chin, stilling his head.

"Calm down, I'm just going to put this into your neck so you can get oxygen to your systems," murmured Zim as he turned Dib's head so he would barely see the needled end which quickly appeared. Zim didn't wait another moment before stabbing the tool into Dib's neck. The human silently yelped and tried to pull the offending object out by moving his head. The Invader merely griped his head tighter, keeping the Halfling still.

"I have inserted a breather into his throat. It will place oxygen into you blood and try to force some oxygen into your lungs," added Zim, taking a breath and pulling away to start his next task. He slapped Dib's hand away as the human tried to raise his fingers to feel his throat.

"Don't get calm too soon; his blood still isn't being filtered so hurry and restrain him to the table, on his belly. He might receive some type of brain damage or organ damaged if too much waste builds up in his blood stream," added the scientist as his form stepped into a lift which hovered over the examination table, a pak in hand. Dib stared at him for a moment, eyes wide with a look of betrayal as Zim cut off his shirt for the procedure.

The invader gave no excuse to the Halfling as he pushed him down onto the table, his belly against the cold steel as a collection of restraints raised from the table like hands from the grave. Dib nearly bucked when he felt something sharp prick against his back. Yet, that sharp feeling was nothing compared to when he felt two cold hands trace down his back, feeling each bone and muscle under the skin, but, despite the panic running through his veins, Dib bit his lip and laid his forehead against the cold steel. He'd survive this. It was only pain. He'd survive this. It was only pain. He'd survive this, and get revenge.

"Well, he has a larger and more solid bone structure then you guys, but I doubt that that will hinder in the pak's attachment to his spine," said the Voritan calmly as he traced his fingers up and down Dib's spine, "Give me a scalpel. The thickened spine might confuse the pak during attachment, so we'll make an entry hole for it."

Dib nearly jumped out of his skin the next time someone touched his back, the cool voice of the Voritan quickly grumbling, "Now, this will only be a pinprick … the worst has yet to come."

With a soundless whimper, Dib dug his claws into the metal of the table and pressed his head against the metallic table. Its only pain. Its only pain. Its only pain … your heart has suffered worse.

A flinch escaped him despite the warning as the blade dug into his skin, every muscle in his back tightening as he felt the warmth of blood pool around the edges of the wound. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin the moment the cool metal of the pak laid against his back. A grinding noise from his teeth was all he was allowed as protest, given that his lungs were momentarily useless

Dib was sure he wouldn't be allowed the simple right of screaming when the pak attached itself.

"We need to keep his spine as still as possible, hold his head and neck still," added the Voritan as he placed his hand over the pak, ready to activate it, a small smile forming on his lips. He knew the specimen before him was not a real Irken, but he would still take some pleasure from watching it tremble and silently scream in agony. It was the least he deserved for all that had been brought onto his people by the Irkens. Yet, if this plan truly worked, he'd never have to worry about the Irkens again.

Zim silently did as he was asked and Dib wished he had at least he lung power to whimper as he heard a click come from the pak. There was a moment's stillness, a building tension, and then half a dozen little tentacles climbed out of the pak. They seemed to run over Dib's back, as if tasting it. Then, the little limbs were still for a moment as if contemplating their next action. Dib was ready for the shock as the little tentacles started to crawl into the wound in his back all at once, tearing the skin in order to get deeper access. Warmth soon covered his back as blood pooled down his sides and onto the table. Silent screams escaped Dib's lips as he tried to struggle against the grip of the restraints of the table, yet his strength soon wavered as he felt the tentacles start of wrap around his spinal column. He quickly buried his head into the table, tears running down his face as a cracking noise filled the room, the tentacles weaving into the very bone.

Yet, before Dib could throw his head back to cry another silent scream, the pain was suddenly dulled, his entire back going numb. He slumped heavily against the table, his eyes lazily staring at the claw marks he had created in the metal. He could still scarcely remember doing so, but now his mind was all fuzzy and warm, like something was slowly pressing itself into his psyche. There it pulled his pain away as it crawled into the deepest catacombs of his mind, logging and entering data as it made itself at home.

The Voritan titled his head as Dib's struggling became still, his breath returning. His fingers were quickly upon the pak, pressing a switch so it bared its inners to him. The scientist stood on his tiptoes to get a better view of the pak's inner workings, soft red light playing over the features of his face and goggles. Zim wasn't far behind in checking out the pak's workings.

With a sigh, the scientist pulled away, matching Zim's glance, "The pak seems to have noticed its owner's distress. It has administered sedatives to deal with the pain of its entry as well as its continued work in integrating itself and removing any foreign bodies … or in this case, any traces of the specimen's human organs that still remain."

Zim nodded and ran his fingers lightly over the pak, his mind calming. For the briefest of seconds, he was sure Dib was going to die. Luckily, that hadn't happened. Nothing, not even death, could separate him from his adversary … his competition … his enemy … his teacher … his fellow defective. Dib was his companion, even if he didn't know it yet.

"What was your worry for then? I know it's not because everything is perfect," murmured Zim as he stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest as his antennae fell back against his head.

"You'd be correct in that assumption," said the Voritan as glanced upward at the pak's readings, drawing his fingers out of the mechanism, "but it could be worse."

"But it's not good either," growled the Invader as he desperately tried to keep the rage out of his voice. It would do no good for his pak to read his stress signals and target the Voritan as a threat. He needed the irritating worm alive … as much as that fact distressed him.

He didn't trust him.

"Like I said," murmured the scientist as he pulled a thick cord out of the collection of wires above the slab Dib was on, sticking it into the pak with a sickening clicking noise, "it could be worse. But never fear: you can fix it."

Zim glared at the Voritan's failed attempt at human humor. Apparently, there was a vid collection floating around of some of Zim's earlier, more retarded, hails. They were highly sought after and apparently considered one of the best comedy collections this side of the universe. When he finally got his power, the first thing he was going to do was destroy every last copy of his ... dumber days, to put it lightly.

Gritt personally made it an obligation to get in as many Earth jibes as he could before the very mention of Earth was erased from the record, because by the look on Zim's face, that would probably be happening soon.

"How do I fix it, Gritt? Do I go out and get a carbonator from a Buick or what?"

Gritt, in all his Voritan knowledge, was stumped, "A Buick … is that like a type of Irken medical device?"

Zim could only laugh, noting again just how much Earth had corrupted him, his voice bouncing off the walls has Dib's pak pulled the other into a forced stasis.

…

It was easy to say that Zim's laughter from earlier quickly died, but that was just how the real world was he supposed. It would allow you one moment of happiness just to painfully thrust you to the ground like a coconut from a tree … a tree that had just happened to have cement planted around the entire circumference of its trunk.

Well, at least he wasn't full of nasty white milky gooey Earth juices.

Zim sighed and buried his head in his hands. He so did not want to do this and when he said so, he meant so! He'd rather cut off an antenna and be half blind for the rest of his life than do this. Really, he'd do it. He'd do it without any type of painkiller and with a rusty hedge clipper to boot, just so he wouldn't have to do this.

The Irken sighed, a very human characteristic he had sadly hijacked due to too much human watching. Slowly, despite the pleas of his innards, Zim dialed the hail frequency regretting it before anyone even answered. But he had to do this. He had to do this for Dib and himself. Irk, here he had thought that Dib's height would be nothing but a pro, but no! That would just be too easy, wouldn't it? Irk forbid if something went his way once in his miserable life.

The fourth hail went through and Zim physically cringed when a face appeared on the other side, shock on the other's face as his hat tilted slightly to the left, "Zim? Zim, why are you calling me its three in the morn-… ZIM! When I get my hands on you I'm going too!"

Yet, the other's anger was quickly replaced with a dread filled look. If an Irken could go pale, he was that, his words weary, "Yo-you're dead. The Tallest had you squished." The other quickly pulled away from the screen, placing a hand over his forehead, "I have food poisoning, don't I?"

"You and I both," grumbled Zim as he slouched forward. Dying would have been easier than what he was about to do, "Now, from one outcast to the other, I have a business deal for you. I will no longer be underfoot … and neither do you."

Sizz-Lorr had always been an Irken of few facial expressions, but today was the first time he had been angry, then shocked, and then for the first time in a long time … happy. His words almost satisfied, "I'm listening, dead man."

Zim really hated that Earth vid collection.

…

Blue sat silently in his Tallest's chair, a look of distaste on his face as he played with his jarred eye once more. It had been several day cycles since Zim had disappeared and, frankly, Blue was getting annoyed. Now, he always considered himself the brains of the operation, but not a conqueror. So it was unnerving when an Invader would call every other hour to report something or ask for supplies. It had never occurred to the Tallest just how much work Zim really did.

But, despite his obvious annoyance, there was something else, like a whisper in the back of head. It spoke no words, but for some reason its presence told him he felt a little lighter about having his co-leader gone. It was like a feeling of opportunity, like a guard was no longer standing in front of his cell. He was able to escape now.

Blue's rare smile quickly disappeared as that old feeling of confusion quickly crept back into his pak, his mind asking: escape from what?

"My Tallest?"

The current Tallest stopped dwelling on the feeling and looked down to see a shorter Adviser; the shortest and newest Adviser, in fact. Blue believed his name was Ta-boo, yet he was not about to address him by name. Zim always found it faintly disturbing that Blue remembered everyone's names. He said that a Tallest shouldn't remember such lowly servants. Only high ranking officers and Invaders deserved such individual attention from a Tallest.

But Zim isn't here, now is he?

Blue's antennae twitched at the inner realization, but that wasn't what bothered him. This voice in the back of his head felt familiar … like going home after a very long time of being gone.

"Yes, Ta-boo?"

The small Irken jolted, his head coming out of its bow as he stared at his Tallest with wide, shocked eyes. His expression was easily matched by the curious and even surprised looks of the rest of the staff in the room, even Sizz-Lorr. Remembering the newest, not to mention shortest Adviser, was like remembering the servant that had just served the Tallest's drink. It just didn't happen.

"Is there something wrong, Ta-boo?" added Blue, a grin forming on his face at the expressions around him. It was nice not to feel constricted. Maybe having Zim gone for a few days wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The adviser stuttered, before he nervously pulled at his robes and looked to the floor, murmuring, "Y-you know my name, sir?"

Blue put on the soft, reassuring smile that he usually wore when talking to some of the more dishearten members of the species, "Well, of course. I know all your names … every single one of you in the room. Why wouldn't I?"

A choking noise escaped Sizz-Lorr as he stared at Blue in shock. Yet, his look was nothing compared to the look of the pilots that were just below him, or the Advisers. It was rich. It was always a treat in Blue's mind to catch his people off guard. In fact, with all the odd things he'd thrown their way, he was surprised he still could catch any of the regular workers off guard.

A soft chuckle escaped the ruler as the slack-jawed expression remained on Ta-boo's face. Slowly, Blue leaned forward in his chair, as if he were speaking to a child, "What is it that you wanted, anyway?"

The small Irken, tilted his head and he seemed to struggle with his vocals for a moment before murmuring, "Well, I was informed that Tallest Zim was to know if we received any clues to the whereabouts of any resistance groups."

Blue cocked his head and was about to give a command when a shadow over fell him. The Tallest tipped his head up and glanced at Sizz-Lorr for a moment as if daring him to interrupt. The ex-cook merely tightened his lips and said nothing. Blue tried not to smirk at the small victory. Sizz-Lorr was Zim's unofficial babysitter/guard dog for Blue. He had just always been there, yet, despite his obvious guard dog appearance, Blue respected him. It was like they had once seen battle together.

So, regardless of his obvious intentions, Blue would allow him to voice his opinions … later.

"You mean the Resisty? Please, they are a helpless assemblage of fools since the Voritan's abandoned them," murmured Blue, his once tightened posture loosening to a slouch, his fingers slowly stretching for a drink at his side.

Sizz-Lorr tightened as he threw a glare at the adviser since he knew what the other was about to say, but the shorter being pretend not to see the venomous glare and merely kept his sights on his Tallest. Ta-boo didn't think much of Sizz-Lorr, even though he was somewhat a high official in Zim's cabinet. He had no idea why Tallest Zim seemed to barely be able to tolerate the other, yet he gave him so much power, even giving him the great privilege of private meetings within Zim's quarters. No one even had any idea what they talked about … and no one dared ask.

"No, my Tallest," came Ta-boo, "It is the Ark."

Blue opened his mouth, about to say something, but stopped. He had never heard of this group, but for some reason it crept up his spine, leaving a chilling feeling in his bones, "The Ark … I don't recall that resistance. Are they new?"

Not good, not good, not good! Was all Sizz-Lorr could think as he looked at Blue's expression. He was supposed to keep Dib from re-emerging while his other half was gone, but that was from himself. Zim had no idea what an actual, physical, outside stimulus would do to Blue's mind. That was why he and the rest of the original group had gone out of their way to destroy every clue that remained of Dib's old life. They destroyed Earth, removed all proof of the planet's existence from Irken files, and deleted Zim's conquering tapes. Personally, Sizz-Lorr thought that one was personally more for himself than for Blue's sake. Yet, despite all their efforts … one thing remained. The Ark. Zim had actually given him his own squad in order to eradicate the force, and he would be after them right now, taking care of the Ark, but he had to babysit 'Dib'.

He definitely had to stop this.

Ta-boo's antennae went straight up in the air, "H-haven't heard of them? My Tallest … b-but they are one of our top priorities! They are dangerous, cunning, and revenge seeking. Their leader will stop at nothing. He and his followers, despite their small numbers, have interrupted countless invasions, destroyed numerous Invaders, and … made it a personal vendetta to destroy Tallest Zim. In fact, that's Sizz-Lorr's top priority when he isn't consulting you or Zim."

Blue blinked once or twice. He did not know about that. In fact, why the irk didn't he know about this! Why the nerve of it all. If someone was threatening the empire, no matter how small, he was supposed to know. And Sizz-Lorr … that jerk! He had asked him once why, as a general, his ship wasn't with the Armada like the rest of the generals. Yet, the lying cheat said that it was nothing of important. He was just doing some odd jobs Tallest Zim sent him on.

A growl escaped Blue, a strange sound that made all of the advisers turn their heads from whatever conversation they were having. The beings' exchanged worried glances and then sent a glare at the youngest member of their group, Ta-boo, thinking he was the culprit. The shortest of the advisers cringed under their gaze, but the attention was quickly diverted when Blue was suddenly to his feet and glaring down at Sizz-Lorr.

The large Irken took a surprised step backward as he looked into those angry orbs. The behavior shocked him mostly because that was not a characteristic of Blue, but Dib. He promised to remember that look in Dib's face forever. It was the last expression offered to him before "Dib" had gone away and Blue had begun.

"M-my Tallest?" murmured the ex-fry cook as he felt his instincts kick in, "I can explain," said the Irken as he looked around, noticing all the attention, "Perhaps in private at least."

"Yes, yourTallest. Your leader, lord, and master," siad Blue as he leaned in close, "Yet, perhaps, you would like to explain to me and everyone else in the control room why you have only informed one of your Tallests about this threat?"

Sizz-Lorr's antennae fell hard against his head as all eyes fell on him, but it was Blue's eyes that truly captured him. He was disappointed. Now, Sizz-Lorr would never admit it to Zim, but he did have a particular liking for Blue/Dib. The ex-human had qualities that an Irken could never hope to ascertain. Curiosity, hope, forgiveness, cunning, sarcasm, and kindness. He was a good leader. He cared about his people. He even suffered for his people … no Tallest had ever done that. They were generally greedy people. Blue … he hated conquering, but he did it with a high chin if only for his peoples continued survival.

The commander found himself bowing, "I-I am sorry my Tallest. I-it's just that his Tallest Zim … asked me not to tell you."

Blue's eyes went wide in shock as he stared at the form at his feet. Zim, his closest companion, had lied to him? W-why? Zim might have been irritating, loud mouthed, and a bit trigger happy, but he always told Blue the truth. He was Blue's best friend. When no one was around, the two of them would merely sit in their chambers watching old Invader reports about superstitions from other planets. It was easy to say that Zim knew Blue better than he was sure he knew himself.

And for some reason this truth … it hurt. He trusted Zim. He trusted him with his very life. His very pak.

Blue's antennae dropped and his eyes drew downward in a sad expression as he looked downward at Sizz-Lorr, "Why would he ask that of you?"

Sizz-Lorr merely gave his saddened Tallest a begging look. He could not tell. Blue's shifted, the want to disappear suddenly filling his gut as he questioned himself. Was he the weakest of the two leaders? Did Zim not trust him with this information? Blue swallowed, biting his tongue slightly to keep the estranged emotion he was feeling at bay. It was weakness for an Irken leader to show such failings. So what if Zim had kept something from him … he would no longer.

The towering figure threw a hard look at his pilots and with a wave of his hand, said coolly, "Hail Tallest Zim. I believe him and I have some words."

The pilots all cringed but quickly started to do as they were told. All they could do was silently thank Irk that Zim wasn't personally here or there would be a fight of the ages boiling.

"Hailing Tallest Zim. Transmission received in three, two –

The screen suddenly blinked to life before the pilots could call out one and Blue threw a glare to the screen, mouth open, ready to hiss his demands, when his eyes went wide. It was not red eyes glaring back at him, but cold emotionless goggles. The two beings stared at each other for a still moment, and when Blue opened his mouth ready to demand who the hell he thought he was interrupting a Tallest call, the figure spoke, his deep voice resonating in hatred.

"Tallest Blue," came that deep voice that sent a shiver through his form, "I don't believe I've have the pleasure. My name is Professor Membrane … and I'm going to kill you."

XXX

Paw07: Not much to say … just tired, but Membrane has finally shown up. Wooh!