"Here we are. Sorry it's not much, but hopefully it'll do."

Zim examined the room from the doorway, flipping on the light switch. The room was modest enough and moderately sized- though he had seen better. "I suppose it will do for now."

Atra smiled. "Good. Well, I think I'm going to head back. Oh! Right- dinner is in an hour, so make sure you're at the cafeteria if you want to eat. Tonight is buffet night!"

With that, Atra turned to leave, but Zim was quick to stop her. She had kept him in the dark long enough. Tonight, he was going to get some answers out of her. "Oh no you don't! Start talking, science drone. If you are not a defective, then how are you here? Surely there's no way you overcame your own programming."

She froze, refusing to face him. "Do I have to be a defective to have common sense?" she asked calmly. "I know I must seem strange, but-"

"Strange doesn't even begin to cover it! No Irken would have helped the Dib and I escape. No Irken would have turned down an opportunity to kill me!" Zim's PAK legs shot out, elevating him so that he was at eye level with her. "So tell me, drone. Who are you really?"

She stared at him quizzically for a moment, their eyes locking, before finally she sighed, a defeated smile spreading across her lips. "I really thought I could keep this up for a little longer. I was waiting to see when you'd finally notice."

"So you admit it! Reveal yourself!"

"I suppose there's no harm in it, seeing as how you've already joined the Resisty. Though I must warn you, you won't like what you're going to see." She reached for the button she kept hidden in her lab coat, and again, her Irken visage vanished. The familiar antennae and green skin vanished, and something- or rather, someone he hadn't seen in many years began to take shape.

Zim watched as her true form revealed itself, his mouth hanging open. His expression contorted into one of horror as he watched her ethereal figure take form. "Y-You, you're… you're a Meekrob!"

"Bingo."

"B-But… you… you lied…"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Yes yes, my identity was a lie to help me hide in plain sight amongst the Empire. Go figure."

"But how..? You would've… you would've had to create a fake PAK… a whole new identity for yourself… is Atra even your real name?!"

"No, but my real name would be far too complicated for you to pronounce." She clicked her tongue in mock disgust. "I can't even communicate telepathically with you. I thought that was a gift of the Irkens?"

He looked away, somewhat embarrassed by her remark. He couldn't exactly deny it. Some Irkens, usually elites, had "abilities", such as telepathy, telekinesis, or mind control. Tak, as he had come to find out, had been gifted with such an ability. "Some. Only the elites may be given such abilities."

"Oh. I see. Such a shame that your people stereotype each other like that. By 'elites', you mean the Tallers, right?"

Zim didn't answer her, but he didn't have to.

She shook her head, leaning against the wall beside the doorway. "I understand that our people have a bitter rivalry. Believe me, it's taken everything I have to even consider working with an Irken… but I think you're different from them Zim. You, and the other Irkens I met while working undercover. I think there are more like you out there, but they're scared. I wish… I could find a way to free all of them…"

He watched as that faraway look clouded her eyes- he had seen the same look on Dib multiple times. It made him sick. It was a sign of weakness, and more importantly, a sign of pity. "Oh, look, what a hero you are. Zim doesn't need your pity," he spat viciously before storming into his quarters, the door sliding shut behind him.

Atra merely sighed. She could only hope that he would eventually come around, otherwise this was going to be a rather tense trip.

Once inside, Zim angrily kicked at the bedpost. The absolute audacity of that Meekrob filth! He might have agreed to join this ragtag group of soldiers, but he didn't agree to be on the same team as a notorious enemy of the Irken Empire! He sighed in defeat, flopping back against the bed, falling rather unceremoniously onto the mattress. Rationally, he knew that it shouldn't matter, that now, he was just as much of an enemy to the Empire as a Meekrobian.

"Hiya master!" a shrill voice shouted from the corner of the room.

"Gir?" Zim abruptly sat up. The little robot was sitting rather comfortably, eating what appeared to be a plate of… something. "I thought you were in the Dib's room?"

"It was boring in there. I misseded youuuu, master!" Within seconds Gir was on his lap, hugging and squeezing Zim like his life depended on it.

"Okay, okay!" Zim grumbled, gently pushing Gir off of him. "I can't believe this… I thought it would be bad enough being stuck on a ship with the miserable Dib-human…"

"Mary's nice!" Gir insisted. "He gave me weenies! See?!" Gir gestured to the plate of weenies he was holding. Zim opened his mouth to ask where he really got them, but ultimately decided he was probably better off not knowing.

He sighed, allowing himself to drift off into his own thoughts once more. "By doing this, I really am cutting off everything with the Empire, aren't I?"

He knew full well that he could no longer be loyal to his Empire. Not after everything that happened. But years of conditioning and PAK programming were hard to overcome, even as a defective Irken. His inner soldier screamed at him, every second of every day.

"Mutiny!"

"Rebellion!"

"Traitor!"

"If you can't serve your Empire then why are you even alive?!"

"Your life has no worth if you are not serving your Empire."

He didn't like those thoughts. So persistent, so… loud. Much louder than they were before. But Zim no longer wanted to serve anyone. Not the Tallest, not the humans, not even the Resisty. He just wanted to be Zim. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so.

Zim sighed, cradling his head in his hands. What sort of mess had he gotten himself into? Would he really be of any use to the Resisty now, if he could not be of use to his Empire?

No Zim. Bad thoughts.

But as he was starting to see, the bad thoughts, more often than not, kept coming. Bad, uncontrollable thoughts that plagued his mind day and night. What was with him? He used to be able to control his fears, his desires, his insecurities. But now, now he couldn't go a day without an intrusive thought.

Zim scoffed. In the end, they were just that. Thoughts. Silly little pieces of his imagination. As long as he didn't act on them, he was fine.

Dib's new room, while it was distinctly alien, was surprisingly comfortable. It reminded Dib of a futuristic hotel room- it had a bed and a bathroom- and yes, even a TV.

He had panicked about clothes, but Atra had reassured him during the tour that all Resisty members wore uniforms. Dib had pointed out that he wasn't even sure he wanted to be in this supposed rebellion.

"You want to protect Earth, don't you?" Atra had asked.

"Uh… yeah. I do."

"Then that's a good enough reason to be here."

Dib then pointed out that Atra still hadn't explained what was going on and what was so special about he and Zim. Atra had waved him off, telling him that everything would be revealed during the briefing first thing in the morning.

He couldn't even be excited about the fact that he was literally in space, thousands of miles away from the Earth. He was far too exhausted, the thoughts of his hectic day scrambling his brain. Thoughts of Lard Nar, Atra, the Resisty, Zim…

He shook his head. If he started thinking about Zim now then he wouldn't be able to stop.

He laid back onto the bed, allowing himself to get comfortable. He wasn't really sure how the whole "night and day" thing worked on this ship. For all he knew, he only had a few hours left before "daytime" began.

His gaze drifted to the small table next to the bed, where a small silver metal box sat. He really didn't have time to pack, but there was one thing he made sure to bring with him before he departed. Now that he looked back on it, bringing the chip onboard a ship full of strangers probably wasn't the smartest idea, but he didn't exactly like the idea of leaving it unattended on Earth either.

Come to think of it, he should probably hide it. After all, he was the only one that knew that it was still around. As far as Atra and Zim knew, the chip had been destroyed. He wasn't exactly a secret-keeping kind of guy, and he really wasn't into the idea of hiding the truth. Atra had mentioned that her original plan cost too many lives, but something that could override even the Control Brains had to be useful, right? Not to mention that, as much as he cared for Zim, there was still (admittedly) that inkling of mistrust, borne from years of rivalry and bitterness. He feared what may happen if Zim got his hands on that kind of power. Taking down the Empire is one thing, but what would Zim do if he had that kind of control? Would he stop at the Empire?

God. This was all too much.

He wouldn't keep it a secret much longer. In fact, tomorrow, after the briefing. He would tell Atra. And Atra would tell the others when the time was right.

I'm sorry Zim. But I don't have a choice.

As Dib and the others quickly found out, Zim wasn't exactly accustomed to being on a crew. Last time he worked on a team, he was the head scientist- and that didn't end very well. "These uniforms are weird," Zim commented idly as he tugged on the sleeve. "I'd much prefer my old invader uniform."

"Well, you're not an invader anymore, so you don't need the uniform," Dib replied in a bored tone. Quite frankly, he liked his uniform. He thought he looked cool in it- almost like he came from an episode of Star Trek or Doctor Who. It was a dark blue form-fitting outfit made of some of the finest, strongest material in the galaxy.

Zim clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Whatever. The fact that we have to take orders from a filthy Vortian is ridiculous!" he griped, sipping violently at what appeared to be a soda of some sort.

"Since when do you drink soda?" Dib asked, eyeing him curiously.

"It's an Irken soft drink, you fool."

"Irkens have soft drinks? Can I have a sip?"

Zim gasped, a look of revulsion crossing his features. "And let your filthy germs get near Zim? No way! Get your own!"

Dib snorted, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. It's probably gross anyways."

Zim's antennae perked at that. "It is not!" He sighed before reluctantly shoving the drink into Dib's hand. "Taste, and prepare to be amazed!"

He eyed the drink suspiciously, examining it like he would examine a foreign specimen. "You don't have any freaky alien germs in your spit, do you?" he asked.

Zim looked appalled at the question. "How dare you! Irkens prioritize health! Our medicinal field is unmatched by anyone else in the galaxy! Our PAKs treat almost any injury or illness within 24 of your Earth hours. So to answer your question, no. Zim is not sick, and even if he were, you wouldn't be able to contract an illness from me."

Dib blinked, as if he were unfazed by Zim's rambling. "And your spit isn't like, radioactive, right?"

"Are you going to drink it or not?!"

Dib could never pass up an opportunity to tease Zim. Ever. He laughed slightly before hesitantly taking a small sip. He was pleasantly surprised to find that it was rather similar to cherry cola- with a hint of spice. What is that? Cinnamon?

"Not bad," he commented before handing the drink back to Zim. "Here."

"No thanks, you keep it."

Dib opened his mouth to argue, but figured that he should've expected that. Zim was probably the world's biggest germaphobe. But that also meant that Zim willingly gave up something of his so Dib could have it. The thought made his chest get all fluttery and his face get hot- he really had to stop doing that around Zim. It was getting weird.

The briefing room wasn't as crowded as they'd been expecting. There was, of course, Lard Nar and Atra, and two other familiar faces, Dei and Fruo if Dib remembered correctly. But there were three other people in the room that Dib had never met.

"Zim! Dib!" Lard Nar exclaimed, rushing over to the door to greet them. "You're ten minutes late to briefing."

Dib grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry. Still not used to the whole night-day thing the ship has going on."

Lard Nar's eyes drifted down to meet Zim's gaze. "There's no excuse for you, Zim. You don't sleep."

Zim pointed a clawed finger up at him. "Vortian scum, Zim doesn't have to explain himself to you!"

"He was getting a soda."

"Dib!"

"Typical Irkens," a baritone male voice muttered. "No surprise coming from the laziest race in the galaxy."

Dib was suddenly hoping and praying to whatever gods or goddesses were out there that Zim didn't hear that. Zim, however, had some damn good hearing, and of course, he picked up on the offhanded comment right away. Without hesitation, he marched up to the source of the voice, which happened to be a rather large looking alien with deep blue skin and clear-colored eyes. His build was muscular, large, and rather than hair, pale blue tentacles grew from the top of his head, framing his wide face and prominent jawline. "Listen here Ithuanian trash, the only reason Zim isn't ripping your head off of your absurdly large body is because I made a promise. Keep that in mind."

The Ithuanian snarled, baring sharp white teeth. "You know, I really wanted to kick your ass before, but now, it looks like I really don't have a reason to hold back anymore. I might get punished for it later, but I'm sure Lard Nar wouldn't mind if I knocked you off of your high horse, no?"

"I would mind, actually." Lard Nar quickly stepped in between them, holding out a hand to prevent Zim from lunging at his throat. "Meosori, I understand your anger towards the Irken race. But Zim is different from them. He talks a big game, but he's nothing like other Irkens. In fact, he might just be the key to destroying the Empire."

"How do you know he's not a spy?" Meosori asked, eyes locked suspiciously on the small Irken in front of him.

"That human over there, Dib… he's been… sort of keeping tabs on him. If Zim were a spy, Dib would know. And he would've informed us immediately." Lard Nar then loudly clapped his hands to get the attention of the room. Once the chatter died down, he cleared his throat and stood atop the table in the center of the room. "I want you all to listen well, because I'm only going to say this once. I understand your frustrations towards the Irken Empire, but I ask that you do not take them out on our new recruit. He may not seem like it at first, but he's different from the rest of them. He's a defective- and that might be just the thing we need to kickstart the rebellion. So I ask that you treat him with the same respect you would treat any other crew member- and Zim, I ask that you do the same. You must understand that we are all a bit wary about trusting an Irken- but I sincerely believe that you will be a great asset."

Zim waved him off, pretending to mumble something under his breath, but couldn't deny that he felt a bit giddy hearing Lard Nar defend him. The last thing he ever thought he'd hear was a Vortian speaking in favor of him.

"Alright, new recruits, Zim, Dib, Fruo, and Dei! Meet your superiors!"

"Uh, weren't there a whole bunch of other new recruits?" Fruo asked. He was right, there had been a room full of newbies during orientation.

"Yes, but… let's just say you four were our favorites," Atra replied with a wink.

Lard Nar gestured to where Atra stood on the other side of the room. "This is our lead strategist and recruiter, Atrana Astralle, or Atra for short."

Atra grinned shyly, awkwardly waving her hand. "Hello, um- don't let the disguise fool you, I'm actually…" She shuffled around her uniform for the button before pressing it, allowing her Irken visage to disappear. "One hundred percent Meekrob."

Dib gasped as he watched her true form reveal itself. Really, it shouldn't have been as surprising as it was. Of course. He should've fucking guessed. There's no way a defective Irken would've gotten out on their own. It made no sense, yet also the most sense- go figure.

He noticed that Zim appeared rather unfazed about the whole thing. "Zim?" he whispered. "Are you…"

"Eh? I already knew! The science beast showed me last night," Zim explained in a hushed whisper, waving him off in favor of listening to the introductions.

"She told… you, and not me?" Dib asked incredulously.

Zim shrugged, a rather smug grin creeping across his face. "It seems that way. Perhaps the science drone has realized Zim's superiority?"

Dib was honestly feeling a little betrayed. He felt like it was something important about her that he deserved to know if they were going to be in a crew together. What did Zim do that he didn't?

Oh well. He wasn't going to let it get to him, just so long as Zim didn't keep rubbing it in his face. "Whatever."

"This is Meosori, from planet Ithuania. He's our weapons specialist and assistant engineer. He will be your instructor for weapons training."

Dib could only sigh. That alien looked spooky enough, but now that there was already a tension between Zim and Meosori, it would only make training for the rest of the recruits that much more difficult.

"And this is Infera Saari, the head engineer. She is from the planet Anokt. She's also the head chef!"

Infera was short, with vermilion skin and forest green eyes. She surprisingly had hair, two long ponytails reaching her lower back, but upon closer inspection, Dib found that her hair was moving. On its own. Was that hair like an additional appendage? He knew it would probably be rude to ask, but he couldn't help but wonder.

"And finally, this is Vythani Wuo, our head doctor. He comes from the planet Heirus. He's an ex-soldier, and therefore will serve as your combat trainer."

Vythani was tall, lanky, and if Dib was being honest, somewhat attractive, even by human standards. He definitely wouldn't have taken him for a former soldier. Unlike most of the aliens onboard this ship, Vythani was the most human looking one. His skin was a light shade of lavender, with two arms and two legs. The only things that really stood out were the horns on either side of his head, curling inwards slightly before jutting outwards, and the claws on all eight of his fingers. Similarly to Infera, there was a deep purple substance on his head that looked similar to hair, but it was barely noticeable. He seemed to keep it cut short (if it really was hair. Perhaps it was the Heirus equivalent?)

Realizing that he was probably staring, Dib blushed and looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"This is all well and good," Zim interjected, "except that you have no plan! What kind of army doesn't even have a plan to take down their enemy?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Lard Nar circled around the table in the center of the room. "The fact is, you are crucial to our plan Zim."

"Whaa..?"

"Well, not you in particular," Atra corrected. "But other Irkens that are like you. Defectives."

Zim noticeably flinched at the term.

"I met them while working undercover," she explained. "There are plenty more out there. Hundreds, thousands even. The Empire likes to treat it as some sort of rarity, but it's really not. It's a lot more common than you'd think. I believe that if we can manage to help a number of them escape the Empire… then we'll have enough soldiers to kickstart the rebellion."

The idea was ludicrous. Recruiting thousands of defective Irken soldiers without the Empire knowing? "But Zim and I barely escaped with our lives! How are we going to get thousands of Irkens out of the Empire?" Dib questioned incredulously.

"We won't need thousands, just a few," Atra told him. "In theory, that will be enough to launch our first attack. And when the others start to see the fall of the Empire, they will follow suit."

"Right now they're sitting ducks," Vythani added. "They can't do so much as blink while under the surveillance of the Empire and the Control Brains."

Dib found himself briefly wondering how Vythani was familiar with Earth sayings. Had he visited before?

"So in other words, the first step is liberating the defectives?" Dei asked.

Lard Nar smirked. "Bingo."

"And then what?" Zim challenged. "Even if you get a few thousand Irken soldiers on your side, that still doesn't guarantee victory. Besides, not every defective Irken is going to decide to follow you."

"If they wish for a better future, then I hope that they'll see that this is the most logical path for them. But you're right Zim, that won't be enough to stop the Empire."

"So what's our next move then?" Fruo asked. "Taking out the Tallest?"

Atra shook her head. "We could, but after conferring amongst ourselves, we came to the conclusion that it's too risky. Besides, we can't risk losing Tallests Red and Purple. They're too valuable. Chances are they know most, if not all the secrets of the Empire whether they realize it or not."

"Besides," Infera interjected, a smirk spreading across her lips, "the Tallests are just figureheads. Without the Control Brains, they don't really hold any power."

Infera's voice was thick and heavy with an alien accent. If Dib had to guess, it could be most accurately described as a mixture between Scottish and Spanish. And he had sort of figured that already- that the Control Brains were really the ones pulling all the strings. Needless to say, they weren't going to be easy to take out.

But, with the chip…

Dib held his tongue. He couldn't reveal something like that here in front of everyone, not on the first day anyway.

"But before we do anything, you lot need training. You will undergo exactly one month of training, two weeks for combat training and two weeks for weaponry. Most of you are already soldiers, so I expect a lot out of you." Meosori's narrow eyes locked with Dib's. Dib averted his gaze. It's not exactly his fault that joining the military wasn't exactly on his priority list. Besides, to them, the Earth military was probably considered pathetic.

"We'll keep you updated on the status of our plan. Every day we will have a general assembly, so of course the other soldiers will be kept updated as well."

"Why just us four?" Dei blurted. She shyly ducked her head, as if regretting having asked. "What makes us more special than the other recruits?"

"Nothing in particular," Lard Nar replied bluntly, "but the four of you have abilities or resources that we consider crucial to the mission. Therefore, you four have officially been upgraded to special privates."

"Commander Zim has a much better ring to it, don't you think?" Zim suggested slyly with a grin.

"Nice try, private," Atra teased.

"What about me, then? Why am I here? I mean…" Dib shuffled his weight awkwardly on his feet, looking down at the floor. "All you guys probably have military experience and special powers, but-"

This wasn't particularly like him, to feel so unsure of himself and his abilities. Back on Earth he was fairly certain he was one of the smartest people alive- but now that he was on a ship with a bunch of aliens, the playing field was different, and Dib had no idea where he stood.

"Don't sell yourself short," Lard Nar interrupted. "Your record is remarkable in many ways. Your hacking skills are nearly incomparable- well, they could be matched by your sister Gaz. Perhaps we should've recruited her as well…"

"Get to the point," Dib snapped. He didn't like being compared to his sister- who could, theoretically, be better than him at just about everything if she tried. Thankfully she didn't care enough.

"Right. Well, considering that the Control Brains are, well, giant computers- we think you'd be a pretty big help. Not only that, but we've been following your rivalry with Zim for several years. You've held your own against an Irken. That's admirable for anyone, but especially a human."

"Please, the Dib just got lucky, that's all," Zim retorted, his mouth twisted into a displeased frown.

"For seven years, Dib just got lucky?" Meosori questioned incredulously, his grin wide and taunting.

"Shove it, ape-creature."

"Regardless, Dib… we need you. Without you… we can't move forward. We don't have time to find another hacker as good as you. There are very few in the universe."

He met the captain's eyes through his goggles and found that there was a slim chance that he wasn't being sincere. He had a feeling that Lard Nar wasn't a very good liar anyway. But this feeling, this feeling of being wanted- no, needed... it felt nice. To have others acknowledge you and trust you with a mission. A job.

"…Okay, then. I'm… I'm in."

He didn't really have a choice now, did he? He was in this for the long haul.