Disclaimer: Zim is not mine. Actually, he doesn't even appear here, so the Tallest are not mine. Most things are not mine. And if Invader Zim were mine, it would be going in to Season eight or something by now, so clearly the characters appearing here are not mine, and I make no monies off of them.

Author's notes: Awesome! It's now been over two years since I updated, and I sincerely apologize for that. I suppose none of you will believe me when I say I'm already working on Chapter 4 unless I actually update again this calendar year? I've graduated and am taking the summer off before I take the vow of poverty to become a graduate student, and I'm catching up on my writing. I hope to finish this before the end of the summer.

Thanks so much to those of you who put me on your watched fics list, and those who review. Sending those little messages into my inbox is a great way to both fill me with boundless joy and to guilt me into updating sooner. Hopefully Chapter 4 will be up within the week.

-DIVIDER!-

I spent the entire flight in a state of tension, waiting any moment for the inevitable end. I actually activated the emergency preservation measures in my pak, one of the few things I could control without them noticing. Spider legs or remote communicators wouldn't be any good in a small transport ship with a Vortian gun against my life support system and four more pointed at my head. They were the old-fashioned kind of guns, the ones that shot metal projectiles. My pak could possibly withstand a laser blast with its upgraded heat defenses I had installed, but not a lump of metal cutting through half its circuitry.

No matter. Once I was finished imitating the preservation sequence, my pak would remain intact even after I was dead. Perhaps if it drifted through a star it might incinerate, but it would withstand Irken laser fire, and when Purple ordered this ship destroyed it could be retrieved and my memories recovered. I had come up with quite a few weapon modifications and ship maneuvers that should be entered into the main database of Irken knowledge. So at least it wasn't a total waste. But I wished that Purple didn't have to go on alone.

Except we were still moving. We were almost at the flagship. I chanced moving my head a fraction of an inch, chancing the fact that they might shoot me, to see my beloved Massive drifting further and further away. Almost out of laser range. What was taking him so long?

"Surprised, Irken Tallest?" That was the Vortian who had grabbed my Pak, now pointing his gun at it. I still hadn't gotten a good look at his face yet. "We picked you for a reason. And it appears you are sorely mistaken if you expect your…colleague to do the honorable thing."

I chose not to respond. The jab at Purple hurt more than they would if they were directed at me. He didn't like being alone, he never liked being alone. But this was the wrong decision. The fact that these Vortians had played us so well, so perfectly, was sickening. But what were they going to do with me? Even if Purple had to go by himself, the Control Brains could still help. The Irken Empire would not crumble just because a Tallest was killed. It had gone on before.

When arms dragged me up and pushed me forwards, I was surprised. Clearly I had been too deep in thought to notice our docking. "Move, Irken Tallest," came the voice behind me. Not that I had much of a choice. I moved. Down the loading platform, across a hanger, into a high-speed elevator. Out of that elevator, down a corridor, then into another elevator. It was crowded in there with six Vortians, at least one of whom smelled very bad, and one Tallest who was not the correct height for this type of transport and needed to remain in a bent over position so his Almighty Antennae did not snag on the light fixture.

Finally, I was shoved unceremoniously out onto the bridge. As guards swarmed around me and shacked me, the voice behind me cried out gleefully, "We have him, Father!"

The ship commander's chair arm turned, revealing the reclining form of Lard Punt. Of course it would be him. Too many demands from that one. Always demanding more from our partnership than he and the rest of the Vortian slime were worth. Now that I was shackled and no one was grabbing my pak anymore, I could look at the speaker. And of course it would be Lard Nar, beaming like a little smeet with his first grenade at trying to impress the Vortian who helped spawn him. One would think he could grow up.

The chair swept down and came to a rest high off the ground so Lard Punt and I were at eye level. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the Almighty Tallest Red himself. We are honored by your presence," he simpered, clearly pleased with himself.

"Had to hide behind false signals and decoy ships to accomplish your goals, Lard Punt? And I have to ask, what are those exactly? You and I know perfectly well that the empire is perfectly capable of going on without me."

"Oh perhaps," he agreed. "But that's not what we're after. Your precious empire may be able to exist without you, but that doesn't mean it wants too. Too long have you Irkens deluded yourself with the idea that you are the superior species in this universe. You feed off of our technology like parasites. It is time for us to take back the empire that is rightfully ours! And when the images of you, broken and bleeding, are broadcasted throughout your empire, who do you think they will listen too? Your army is only as strong as your top. Your soldiers only care for themselves. Once one of you crumbles, what will they think? 'My Almighty Tallest was captured and killed, I might be too! I should join the Vortians to protect myself!' And once you have been exhausted of your…usefulness, all of top-secret passwords, plans, tactics that are encoded in that oh-so-advanced pak of yours will lead us right through the front door. It will be much, much simpler than you may think." A smile was tracing his lips, a devious one.

There wasn't anything I could say to that. My brainmeats were spinning too furiously to come up with any decent response that wouldn't just make me look worse. He could be right. I knew it. No one had ever thought to challenge the morale of our troops before. What if our structure was that fragile? What if the entire happiness of the empire was based on our people looking up to us, seeing our power, hoping one day to be tall too? We were happy being in charge and pampered. If they saw…no. I couldn't let myself be used like that.

Silently I began activating my self-destruct sequence. It would take a moment to come out of preservation mode. My pak would be lost to all time but at least my image and my knowledge wouldn't be used against my people. Only in my panic, I forgot about the confirmation beacon. The one that sent an end-of-life report to the Control Brains before the soldier finished activating the sequence. The one that's audio and visual cue was kept on to keep track of the general populace, but was turned off in Irken Elite, who were supposed to have enough intelligence to make proper decisions about such things. The one that was not re-silenced when I had the upgrades done to my pak several months ago.

No sooner had the signal gone off, when Lard Nar screeched, "THE SELF-DESTRUCT! STOP HIM!" Sweet Irk I hate that screech, I managed to think to myself before four guards were on me. I fought, trying to keep concentration enough to finish the sequence, but the connections were bad. I punched and kicked as best I could being shackled, which was to say not much at all, although I did manage to bite someone and I felt one of my armored wrist guards collide with someone's gut, causing him to make a satisfying choking sound. The connections were getting worse. Then, a searing pain in my back. A hazy red film obscured my vision and I saw numbers. 10:00. 9:59. 9:58. 9.57. I whirled my head around. My pak. They had my pak. In panic, I reached for it. The shackles caught me of course, and I stumbled, watching Lard Nar, holding my precious pak, step further away, out of my reach. Was I going to die on their terms after all?

Suddenly a communications tech from further down the bridge called out, "Commander! The Massive is hailing us!"

I'm not sure if I was more shocked or if the Vortians were. A call from the Massive could only mean Purple, and I don't think he'd ever initiated a call in his life. And so soon after all of this. Even with my lifeclock beeping down in my head, I was scared for him. Scared that he would have to rule alone. Scared that if this call didn't go quickly, he would see me die.

Lard Punt shifted his chair back over to face the viewscreen. "Answer," he commanded.

Purple popped into full view on the screen. To my immense shock, he seemed relaxed. He was reclining in his favorite chair that he used when we were playing Tactics barely an hour beforehand. I recognized the grip of his favorite spear just peeking from the outside of the frame, resting in what had to be my chair. What was that doing there?

"Lard Punt," he said coolly, not bothering to raise a hand in greeting. "What a treat to see who is behind this little demonstration."

Something in that tone I recognized. Before we had really started spending time together, a bulky smeet of about his height had tried to knock him down and take his lunch, or, more critically, his curly fries. Purple had told him to mind his place, very quietly. When the bully persisted, he punched him. Repeatedly. To the point that they both received punishment, though know knowing what I do about the smeet schooling process, Purple also got a merit on his record, and was flagged as having leadership potential. That was how it was. I lost my temper like a roaring volcano, spewing at anyone and anything that got in my way. He froze over. Completely. And if he had gone off to our (now his?) room to practice spearwork to calm himself like I was betting he had, then this was colder than I had ever seen him. To be honest, it scared me a little bit.

"Tallest Purple," Lard Punt was replying, voice all oil. "To what do we owe this distinct pleasure?'

"I'm satisfying my curiosity," he said, smiling. "You see, the Massive isn't usually attacked. So naturally I'd like to know why before I do anything… rash. But first, may I see my co-ruler?"

"And why, pray tell, should we show you our hostage?" Lard Punt inquired. The façade of politeness was quickly fading.

"I would expect that you took him to attract our attention," Purple was studying his fingers as he spoke, still keeping his cool. "If you want to continue talking and perhaps enlighten me with whatever manifesto you have come up with this time, I will need to see him in order for you to keep my attention. I have rather pressing matters to attend to if you no longer wish to speak with me. You left a very large hole in my ship."

Lard Punt was vain. Torturing me and broadcasting the videos to all of civilized space was one thing. But to show his success off in front of my co-ruler was too grand an opportunity to pass up, I suppose. He jerked his head forward and I was pushed into the view of the camera, next to his command chair. By this point I was starting to feel a bit lightheaded and it was difficult to keep my eyes focused. Five minutes left.

I could see Purple's calmness waver at the sight of me, ever so slightly. All this time ruling with him and I knew his body language better than my own blasters. Keep calm, I wished, don't let him win.

I should have expected him to be able to read me just as well, for all the attempts I was making to look normal. One of his eyes squinted, just slightly. "Indulge me, will you? Spin him around." he said softly, eyes not leaving my face.

"And why would we do that?" snapped Lard Punt.

"To make sure he is unharmed. To convince me that you are serious about keeping him as your hostage."

The commander nodded, and I felt myself jerked around by the shoulders. I actually heard the gasps from the other Irkens on the bridge as my pak-lass back came into view. When I was facing the screen again, Purple's attention was diverted, silencing the technicians with a few waves of his hand.

Still ignoring the Vortians, he said, "Quin, prepare the main planetary gun for fire. Lock onto the flagship."

I heard the "Sir!" from offscreen. Then, the warning beepers on the bridge indicating a ship had achieved a target lock. A separate viewscreen showed the long rectangular lens in front of the ship begin to glow as it charged power.

"You're bluffing," Lard Punt cried, and I could see him starting to shake.

"I'm afraid I'm not," Purple replied. "You see, I have been generous. I allowed you to finish your little hostage scenario. I gave you ample time to prepare before contacting you. I have given you the chance to explain yourself. I was willing to talk. But the fact of the matter is you are not serious. Tallest Red is missing his pak, giving him anywhere between ten and one minute to live, depending on how long ago you did it. With him dead, the existence of your ship is no longer my concern. Ou planetary gun will destroy you much more completely than the old-fashioned way, I think, and from a further range. I haven't gotten the chance to play with it myself yet." And by Zim's shortness he was actually smiling!

The Vortians babbled. Half of them were staring at the estimate readouts for how long they had until that massive laser, the one they themselves had designed, would fire. The other half was staring at Lard Punt, wondering if their commander would do something.

A long tense minute passed, and I felt my knees beginning to weaken. Suddenly, "Allow him his pak! We will continue discussions, just please hold your fire!"

I felt the cool, live-giving metal of my pak against my back, and what a wonderful feeling to link up to it again, feel the strength going back into my body. I could see now that Lard Punt looked terrified. The Massive was still preparing fire. Then Purple looked at me. "Is it intact? You linked properly?"

I nodded my head yes, though inwardly I was gaping like an idiot. This morning I would have said Tallest Spork would come back from the dead and tap-dance across the bridge before Purple would be threatening anyone with a laser, yet alone the biggest laser in the entire empire.

Several long, tense beats. Then he gave a wave of his arm, and the weapon began powering down. A large, collective sigh of relief echoed around the Vortian bridge. Despite still being uncertain about where this entire exchange was going, terrified for my Empire's future, and frustrated that Purple's continued presence in the call meant that I couldn't self-destruct (I couldn't do it in front of him, never), I had to appreciate the overall craziness of the situation. The Vortians were the ones with the hostage, and Purple was the one doing the threatening. What a fool Lard Punt was, thinking we weren't the superior species. It reminded me of when Tallest Miyuki had talked them into designing the Massive for her. Granted, what Purple was doing now could hardly be called friendly negotiations, but it had the same feel. The same quietness, compounded by the strangeness of watching Purple say more words at once in a position of authority than I had ever heard him deliver by himself in our reign as Tallest.

They were talking again. I dragged myself out of my thoughts to listen.

"…and furthermore, you will surrender the Massive!" Lard Punt was saying. Apparently he had been in the middle of making demands.

"And why, pray tell, would I agree to any of this?" Purple's eye was twitching. For all he might be struggling to keep calm for the sake of the Empire, Lard Punt's behavior was clearly getting to him just as much as he was me.

"You will agree, Tallest Purple, because we have demonstrated that your grand Irken Empire is a farce. You are unable to protect even those who are highest up in your government. You claim Vortian technology and terrorize us with it. And for that we will make an example out of Tallest Red, here. Perhaps a few video feeds of our treatment of him in our interrogation rooms will convince your people that they are not quite the grand, glorious beings you are."

"Or," he continued, after a pause to let it all sink in. "You can acknowledge our empire as independent and superior and we will be happy to return your leader to you."

I could have killed him. I would have, had I not been restrained. He wasn't close enough for me to impale him with a spider leg, I calculated the distance. Purple was the leader too and it was an insult to imply I ruled him, too. I wasn't sure what he thought he was accomplishing, but staying in contact was just making things worse. Why was he listening? Why was he not killing them at the first demands he made, securing his admiration as a strong leader in the eyes of our people? My life was not worth the crumbling of everything we had worked so hard to achieve.

He was leaning forward in his seat, eyes enraged slits, opening his mouth for a response when we all felt an impact. It was slight, I was guessing off of the bottom of the hull somewhere. We all turned to the pilot, expecting some sort of explanation.

"An asteroid perhaps, sir?" he said meekly to Lard Punt. I would have thrown him out of the airlock for reporting so poorly. "There is a small belt nearby."

"Send a squad down to check for damage. I'll not have this ship beaten to pieces while we stand about talking. Tallest Purple, clearly you are not interested in taking our kind offer. We will be leaving you now, and rest assured we will welcome any further inquiries as to Tallest Red's safety. We'll even be happy to let you negotiate for what's left of him."

Leaving the link open, I suppose to see Purple's horrified face, he commanded the navigator to set coordinates for Vort and prepare to set forward at maximum speed. Clearly these so-called negotiations were finished.

-DIVIDER! -

Again, thanks for your patience! I'm a bit concerned about the pacing and dialogue in this particular chapter. It felt a bit awkward to write, possibly because it's difficult to decide whose point of view to use when. In most of the chapters it's obvious where the action/drama is and therefore where to put the point of view, but in this section of the story it's complicated, because I want to give the reader initially the same sense of confusion of what's going on that Red has. Hopefully I've accomplished this. Constructive feedback is appreciated, as well as any reviews that let me know a few of you are still out there! See you again soon!