Chapter 13: Show of Comradery

There was a strange energy around the Massive now that they were heading back to Planet Irk. It was like humans had left something behind besides destruction. It was almost tangent, like a sour and bitter taste in the air. It was especially obvious on the bridge, the large view-screen showing the bleakness of space in seemingly higher definition.

The pilot's den was especially aware of this even as the stars were left behind like white lines in their journey through space. It was hard to miss the absence of a Tallest on deck … especially when it was replaced with two shorter replacements: Advisor Dimm and Advisor Rigg.

"The hail is going through," finally said one of the Irken's in the pilot's den.

A bulky Irken immediately popped onto the screen, saluting.

...

"Invader Skoodge reporting, my Tallest. It is an honor to receive a check-in off scheduled," came Invader Skoodge with a salute, his antennae high and his spine straight. He couldn't believe he was getting an off-schedule check-in. He really did hope that Tallest Blue noticed not only his hard work but also his growth spurt. He wasn't exactly Advisor height, but it was getting close. And, perhaps, given his past accomplishments as an Invader, he would finally get placement on the Massive.

He still couldn't believe that Tallest Blue had commended his work multiple times already. None of the other Tallest seemed to notice or care about Skoodge's zeal, not even Zim. But it was like Tallest Blue didn't see his height. He just saw a good service record with a drive to please.

That was why Invader Skoodge was pushing harder than ever. He had a new goal: serving under Tallest Blue directly. He knew the azure-eyed Tallest didn't have much of a cabinet, which is why the stocky Invader wanted in.

He would make sure that Tallest Blue lasted. This Tallest could not end up like the last few Tallest if Skoodge had anything to say about it.

Sadly … it was not Tallest Blue on the vid screen. Tallest Zim wasn't even there. Both of the Tallest seats were painfully bare and aching empty.

Beside himself, Invader Skoodge felt his dreams sputter and die like a blork falling into a star. Even his antennae faltered and wilted as his salute gave way.

No … not again. Not when someone finally started to notice him.

"So swift to answer and in proper military salute as well. Nicely done Invader Skoodge," said a tall darked-eyed Irken dressed in Advisor robes. Immediately, Skoodge recalled the Advisor's name: Advisor Dimm. Advisor Rigg was at his side.

The green-eyed Advisor, in turn, coughed awkwardly as if acknowledging the wilt of Skoodge's antennae. It had been a common occurrence with each hail given how many Tallest their empire had gone through in the last century, "Do not despair, Invader. Tallest Blue is merely resting. The Massive was attacked by the Ark and we are now heading to Planet Irk to make sure he is properly cared for."

Even though the words were probably meant to be reassuring, they only made the husky Irken's spooch sink … especially since there was no mention of Tallest Zim's status.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but ask, "And what of Tallest Zim? What of his health?"

The two advisors shared a look before the dark-eyed Advisor hummed, "So glad you asked, Invader Skoodge. Currently, any Invader that can be pulled from their assignment is being called upon to look for Tallest Zim. He left shortly before the attack from the Ark on some … private business. He abandoned his personal guard and we have no idea where he is at. We don't even know if he is alive."

Skoodge's antennae went flat against his head, his spooch sinking lower if that was possible. This all seemed wrong. Why would they be pulling Invaders for search parties?

Once again, he found himself asking aloud, "Why are Invaders and not part of the military being sent to find his Tallest Zim? Invaders are known for infiltration, cunning, and battle prowess. Those are not the specialties needed for search and rescue missions."

The two tallers looked at each other. Advisor Dimm seemed impressed while Rigg seemed concerned. Nonetheless, the dark-eyed Advisor smiled as he leaned forward, admitting, "Astute as you are rumored to be. An invaluable characteristic … especially if his Tallest Zim has to be convinced to return to Planet Irk as was decreed by the Control Brains themselves. Do you understand what is being asked of you, Invader?"

For a moment, Skoodge wanted to shake his head. No, he didn't understand … and yet he did. Invaders could keep their mouths shut and were trained to deal with special operations that required discretion. In fact, an Invader might even win in a fight against a Taller.

Perhaps even a Tallest.

And so, even though he knew he shouldn't ask, that he didn't want to know the details, Skoodge inquired, "And why do I need to persuade his Tallest Zim since this is obviously not a rescue mission? What has he done to make the Control Brains act, and why don't you want the entire Empire to know about it?"

Advisor Rigg suddenly looked tired, but the grey-eyed Dimm merely looked sullen … perhaps even angry, "Astute doesn't even do you justice, Invader Scoodge. Let's just say that Tallest Zim is suspected of manipulating his fellow Tallest and the Control Brains require answers to make a proper judgment on the situation."

Besides himself, Skoodge couldn't hide the twitch in his antennae.

"And just let me say, such a bright mind would be invaluable to the Massive in the future. Tallest Blue needs a strong cabinet in these trying times, after all. And I am more than willing to make recommendations. That is if such a keen mind can prove themselves worthy," added Advisor Dimm, his offer as straightforward as a brick.

And though it felt like he was making a deal with a third-dimension ulk beast, Skoodge saluted. He would do what had to be done. He was an Elite after all and the prize on the line might just be worth Zim's wrath.

…

Elsewhere, Zim sneezed, his footsteps faltering for a moment as he kept heading towards his destination on the Planet Dirt. His vision was finally returning to his injured eye after that horrible battle with those feral hoomans. It was slow going though. One would think that being a Tallest was all pros, but you would be wrong. Healing took longer, his pak having more mass to deal with.

Not that that was slowing the ex-Invader down. He did not want to leave Blue alone longer than he had to. He knew that Sizz-Lorr would keep an eye on the co-Tallest, but at the same time, he knew the frylord's distaste for the situation with Dib. He had liked Dib and considered him an adored student. An imeel even. So, a part of the General probably wished that Dib would reappear.

And honestly, part of Zim wanted that too, but he knew the Dib-worm. He liked to struggle and fight and … would leave Zim.

No one before Dib-meats had believed in Zim, but the human never underestimated him. He had thought that Zim was a worthy advisory from the day they had met. And in some ways, the two had completed each other, like two stars rotating around each other, feeding off one another's heat.

If only Dib would see things his way.

Sighing, Zim made his way into the main entrance of Tak's old base. It looked like a junk pile. The whole building was covered in trash hiding its true size. It even had a trashy little entrance so it looked even more like a hovel. Most beings overlooked it ... just like it was designed.

Immediately, even though the lab had been empty for stellar years, the door recognized Zim's pak signature and allowed him entrance. With painful slowness, the lights on the hall's floor flicker to life as he started forward, the downward slope making the whole walk feel doomy and slightly off-putting.

It was as if Zim knew he wasn't welcome anymore, that he had betrayed its creator, but there was no one there to stop him.

So, ignoring the taste of stale air, Zim entered the main hanger, shadows chasing after him since only half of the lights turned on. Given most of the place was made out of spare parts found on Planet Dirt, it was surprising that anything worked at all. But, as much as he hated to admit it, Tak had always been resourceful.

She would have made a good Invader if she hadn't plotted against him.

Lip twitching, a cord snaked out of his Pak and connected to the old system. Immediately, the screens that could turn on flickered to life. Only about a fourth of them worked properly and the rest were either staticy or black which cast an eerie light over the entire base. Zim would admit that this would have normally been a pain to hack, but even old Irken tech recognized a Tallest's pak. The security merely let him in.

Zim immediately went to work, searching for the schematics he needed. Schematics for the Blocker. At first, everything seemed fine, but something was obviously wrong with the device. It was as if Tak had designed it to break down on purpose. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if she had some kind of failsafe. She was as paranoid as she was cunning.

Maybe if he could get the Blocker to work properly ... maybe he could loosen the parameters a bit so that Blue thought he visited Earth once and that they had a friendly rivalry there. Then they could talk about more things.

He really did miss their rivalry some days.

In fact, he just missed Dib, but Dib was too unstable to allow through completely … especially if Tak corrupted him more than he thought.

Wiping a clawed hand down his face, Zim shook off such thoughts until the system beeped at him. Yes, the schematics. His smile actually spread across his entire face like a madman. He even cackle until he noticed that the programs to run the Blocker were not included ... meaning the issues were likely all software like he suspected. And unfortunately, there was only a single note about the device's software: inquire with pak downloader.

Aka: Tak.

It was an old trick lots of research Irkens did to keep others from stealing their work. They sometimes kept the software of programs or final design steps on their pak so that no one could take it without permission.

The scream and resulting fit from Zim made dust fall from the rafters as the Irken slammed his gauntleted hands onto the computer, the glass blowing out and leaving a smoking mess.

Not that Zim cared as he stood there panting in rage, blood dripping down his face from where the glass had caught him. He was going to kill here. He was seriously going to kill that wretch femme.

Standing up straight, glass tinkling to the floor off of his form, Zim's hands became fists as he hissed, "So you're going to make me dig up, after all, Tak. This time, when I'm done with you, you'll wish you were dead."

And with that, Zim stomped out of the old workshop, the schematics for the Blocker still up and left for anyone to see on the one lone remaining screen, leaving the base silent once more with its trapped memories.

Memories ...

Memories ...

Memories ...

Memories always seemed to plague Dib when he was trying to catch a nap. Yes, he knew that sleeping was superfluous for an Irken, but he found a strange comfort in curling up under a blanket and just breathing there. It was a moment of solitude where his thoughts nor actions were being judged. For a moment … he could be a teen again. Human. A semi-normal life ahead of him with typical worries.

He was sure that these naps were just some kind of coping mechanism. That he hadn't grieved the loss of his world and family properly, but this was all that was allotted to him at this time. This warm blanked darkness. He just needed a few more minutes before pilot lessons, Advisor edict, or some other Irken lesson was thrown at him with dauntingly high expectations. It was enough to make him want to grind his teeth.

He just needed some sleep. He'd have his revenge soon. He … just needed a moment.

"Dib-beast!" suddenly came a familiar shout, the blankets being tugged off the changeling. "Get up for Zim. We need to talk over the plans and then warm up the ship. There is much doing to be done."

Whining, curling his long legs up towards his chest, the ex-human groaned, "Can't pilot's training wait a few more minutes. I'm exhausted from being constantly manhandled and berated. My brain feels like pudding and my bruises feel bruised. Have some pity. And personally, I can't take any more death plans. What are we up to? Plan 42? Really, Zim, I told you that we have enough plans to kill twenty Tallest. I can make one of them work, especially if Tak is going to try and infiltrate the Massive as a janitor. I know all the code names and I have the communication device to contact any one of you at a moment's notice," Dib flashed the watch-like band on his wrist before throwing his wrist back over his eyes, "Just let me nap a bit longer. The Tallest aren't going anywhere."

Zim stood there a moment, blanket over one arm, his antennae folded back. He seemed oddly quiet as if he was considering something that was most definitely not allowing Dib to sleep in longer. Then, in very un-Zim-like fashion, he stated quietly, "Zim doesn't think you are ready, Dib-smeet. I agree with Sizz-Lorr that it's too soon to send you out into the field, but time is up. Curious ears and eyes are prowling about looking for peoples that are not supposed to be here. We are getting the ship ready for you to leave, not practice. You will be leaving today."

The Earthling felt his stomach drop, or spooch technically, his words choked as she sat up in a panic, "Wait? What?! What do you mean I'm leaving today? I thought I at least had a few more weeks?! Who could be prowling around to push everything ahead so quickly?"

The ex-Invader rolled his eyes and threw the blanket at Dib, grousing, "Enforcers are coming. Someone recognized the Great Zim even though I kept a cloak on. It's those stupid Earth Transmissions that gave Zim away! I will destroy all those videos if it's the last thing I do!"

Dib wilted at the news but didn't interrupt the Invader's tirade, "But there is little time to discuss Zim's great future plans. The Irken Justice Division will likely be planet fall by tomorrow, so we all need to leave tonight. You will head straight to the Massive, present your fake admission files, use your pull as an Advisor to get all of us better positions, and look for the safest way to destroy the Tallest. And as little as I trust Tak, she will be on the Massive as soon as she can get the fake transfer papers to go through. Sizz-Lorr and I will work on the exploding ships and any other equipment you may need."

"You had me at exploding ships," said Dib flatly as he rose to his feet, stretching and cracking his bones. "Which plan was that? Six, twelve, and thirteen?"

Zim's antennae twitched at the sarcasm, but he didn't snap back. Instead, he stepped in close, showing how they were the same height. His words were full of concern oddly enough, "Promise Zim that the Dib-meats will try his best to stay alive. Pick one of the safer plans, like the moose trap or acid vat plans. You are not an Elite so there is no need to do anything with lasers or exploding ships if you don't have to."

With that, Zim then offered his arm forward in what was obviously a handshake.

Confused, Dib slowly offered his own hand. It turned into a weird handshake where Zim clasped Dib's wrist, nodding almost proudly as he proclaimed, "May your battles all end in victory, rival of mine."

Then, before Dib could question the odd show of comradery, Zim had let go and he was being spirited away by Sizz-Lorr. The bulky Irken had basically been waiting for Zim to stop talking before he was thrusting Dib's Advisor robes into his arms and dragging him out into the main hanger, telling him to get dressed. It was a bit awkward considering everyone was running around him and packing things up, especially since he wasn't a fan of his new spindly form. He wore long sleeves, long leggings, and gloves all the time for a reason. It wasn't because it was apparently fashionable for Irken kind. He really did hate his new skin and his odd hands with their missing digits.

Nonetheless, he dressed quickly, feeling like he was going to a last-minute wedding, and he was the surprise bride. This whole getup really did feel like he was putting on a dress with the long skirt even though part of him decided to call in a toga for pride's sake. And before he knew it, he was done ... and now had an audience. An audience of Gir.

The little robot was smiling dumbly up at him like he was the prettiest girl at the prom. "Your dress is super pretty Mary! We should go dancing!"

Dib was about to defend it as a toga and not a dress, but he immediately had the defective SIR unit on his arm. The little bot started whooping and swinging his legs which caused the ex-human to stumble about in a mockery of dancing. Apparently, the flailing about was enough to stall the chaos of the hanger. Everyone even had the audacity to gather and stare before Zim finally grabbed the small SIR, throwing him into a nearby crate of packing peanuts. The little robot seemed quite happy with the abuse as he started flinging packing peanuts around leaving all the remaining beings to eyeball Dib in a critical manner.

Dib immediately hated their stares and almost wanted Gir back. Almost.

"Are his antennae supposed to be kinked like that?" was the first thing Gritt asked, the scientist having returned to help pack … and apparently mock Dib.

"His skin is also too smooth? Almost smeet-like. Should we give him a scar or two before he goes?" asked Sizz-Lorr as he scratched his chin while staring.

"His collars also too short," added Tak's mouth which made Zim immediately respond, "No, it's perfect. It's just Dib's freakishly large head that throws off the length."

"Hey," said the first thing out of Dib's mouth before Sizz-Lorr interrupted, "Remember to use Blue from now on, Zim. We don't need any unnecessary attention drawn to him with an odd human name like that."

Then, before Dib could defend his original name, Sizz-Lorr was lifting up his arms, correcting his posture, and adjusting his communicator higher up his sleeve. The changeling didn't even get time to be offended when the fry-cook started tugging off his gloves.

"Hey, hey. What are you doing? I need those!" he yipped as one glove was stolen from him and then another.

He didn't even get to try and snatch his gloves back because Tak had decided to invade his personal bubble by pulling on his robes as if testing the give of the fabric.

"Ah good, he's reactive to shorters," she murmured, only to push his robe up slightly and ask, "And is he supposed to be wearing pants under these? I don't think Advisors wear pants anymore."

Tugging his skirt free while still trying to get his gloves from Sizz-Lorr, Dib didn't even get to defend himself verbally because Zim was suddenly strangling him. Obviously, the Invader was messing with his collar, but it felt like strangulation. It was the Old Home incident all over again: bullied by a group of shorter yet older people.

The tugging and chiding and adjustments continued for another ten minutes until all three Irkens took a step back seemingly appeased. Gritt and Gir were still laughing from their perched positons on the lab tables.

Bunch of sadists. All of them.

"Ok, he looks slightly miserable and haggard. Just like Advisors are supposed to look, especially the new ones," said Sizz-Lorr, humming in approval. "Still needs some scars though."

"Yes, misery is a requirement given you have to serve the Tallest while also shooing about the shorters. It is a horrible job," agreed Tak.

"Hopefully you don't gain too much attention with that giant head of yours, Dib-meats," said Zim as he folded his arms behind his back. "A heighten collar can only hide so much."

"Fuck … all of you," said Dib, haggard-looking at this point.

Sizz-Lorr laughed at this and came forward. Dib twitched away thinking he was going to have some part of his person tugged at again, but instead the bulky being placed a hand on his shoulder while offering a smile. It seemed less mocking and more proud at this point like a father sending his son off to college. The point was further driven home when Sizz-Lorr tugged Dib's head down and leaned his forehead against Dib's, his tone proud, "You will do well and make us proud, imeel. May your battles all end in victory."

All of Dib's irritation dripped away into nothing and instead he felt his throat catch. They were proud of him? And to be called imeel as well? Tak had told him about the word after much prying. Apparently, it made Sizz-Lorr a sentimental old fool, because the word was used mostly by smeet caretakers and cadet trainers. It meant to forever tend and was considered a title of endearment.

Dib had to swallow several times before he was finally able to lean his head fully against his teacher's forehead and murmur back, "I will use your teachings well, meeli."

Then, before the moment could end, Dib offered up an awkward hug. Hugs were more of a human tradition, but Sizz-Lorr didn't seem to mind. In fact, the large Irken even gave him a hearty slap on the back before pulling away.

It was almost too much. He couldn't even remember his own father hugging him like that for that matter being proud.

Too bad everyone was now watching them like they were afternoon drama. Gritt looked terribly confused like he didn't know Irkens had words for parental-like figures; Tak was shaking her head in amused judgment; MiMi just gave him that dead-eyed judgy look the little SIR always seemed to have; Gir was shedding tears like it was the most beautiful thing in the world; and Zim … he looked insulted.

"What was that? Do you both have the brain worms?!" asked the ex-invader, his fingers twitching like he wanted to strangle them both. "We have no time for fuzzy gross touchy huggies! There is plotting and sneaking and explosions that need doing."

"Way to kill a morale boost, Zim," said Dib dryly before Tak step forward, the shorter Irken picking up MiMi and offering her to Dib as if she was an actual cat.

"You apparently were a fan of my ship, from what I've heard," said the female Irken, MiMi hanging there. "I'm honestly surprised it didn't' kill you."

"It tried, trust me. It also had a weird obsession with people's butts," said Dib as he cautiously moved his hands forward, uncertain if he was supposed to take the little SIR unit or not.

If Tak was blushing, no one said anything as she forced MiMi into the taller Irken's hands, stating, "Human butts are gross. Now take MiMi. She's more than capable of assisting you in your assignment until I can get stationed on the Massive. She is especially good with infiltration and espionage. You will not find a better SIR unit."

"A better SIR unit? What about Gir?" asked Zim as he waved a hand down at his own SIR unit, the little robot currently licking the bottom of his own foot.

There was an awkward moment of silence where everyone looked at each other before they broke out into laughter. Even Gir joined in, completely oblivious to everything.

The laughter continued for a moment until Zim finally became completely serious to add, "We would all die."

Zim always seemed to know how to ruin a good mood.

"Alright, enough cow-mooing and mushy byes from all of you. Dib's has much to do. He needs to get to the Massive, integrate, set up recommendations for us, and use one of my amazing plans to kill the Tallest," said Zim, all but pushing Dib towards the ship, MiMi's optics big as she held onto Dib like a small scared monkey.

"Stop making this sound easy, Zim," said the ex-human dryly before he plopped down in his seat. He looked over the controls before setting MiMi in the passenger seat. It was an upgraded L5 Shuvver. A common ship that would go mostly unnoticed while docking, but it had the engine upgrades needed to run if his docking requests were denied when he finally got to the Massive.

Swallowing heavily, the reality of the situation now hitting him like a two-ton boulder, Dib nodded to his team? Yeah, team, and stated simply, "I'll be off now, I guess. Wish me luck."

"We all make our own luck!" was all someone yelled as he sealed the ship, the engines coming alive and ready to fly as the bay doors started to open.

There really was no going back after this.

"I feel like I'm going to puke," said Dib mostly to himself as he pulled back on the control wheel, the ship shifting upward.

MiMi helpfully offered him the equivalent of an Irken barf bag.

Not that Dib took it. He was already heading upwards, escaping the gravity of Dirt. He wanted to feel the weightlessness of space for a moment before the artificial gravity kicked on in the ship. He wanted to escape every need that had haunted him these last few months. And yet, the moment his bones felt hollow and weightless, the artificial gravity was kicking on, a heaviness settling on his shoulders.

This mission was going to be different, harder. It wouldn't be like a ramped-up game of cat and mouse like he was used to doing on Earth. The stakes felt higher and death felt like a real possibility.

Setting the ship to autopilot, Dib didn't know how to feel about possibly dying. Because, in his head, he already felt like he had dug three graves.

So was the nature of revenge he supposed.

XXX

A/N: Angst at the end because let's face it, Dib probably has some serious survivor's guilt going on. Not much else to say except Covid might not have killed me, but it nearly destroyed every creative bone in my body. .