A/N: Apologies for this chapter being so short, but I have big things coming up in future chapters, so be prepared!

Also, I want to say, thank you all so very much for the support! It means a lot to me to hear your feedback.

Enjoy!

Zim didn't sleep. Even now that he was experiencing these… new sensations, the "sleep" wasn't even really sleep- it was just a resting state. But these "resting states" were getting longer in length. Whereas before they lasted an hour at maximum, his most recent "nap" was about three hours- and he was still exhausted. Something would have to be done about this soon. If this was going to make him vulnerable in battle, then it would have to be addressed before they started their attack couldn't afford to be tired and groggy in the heat of battle. After all, he knew better than anyone that an Irken can easily spot their opponents weaknesses.

The old Zim wouldn't have hesitated to address any and all errors, anything that could cause an issue in his plans. But now, for the first time in his life, he feared the consequences of his actions. The only way to fix his "issue" would be to fix the emotional inhibitor. That shouldn't be a problem, except…

Now that he had established an… acquaintanceship with the Dib, he was hesitant about fixing the problem. He knew that if his PAK were repaired, he would certainly lose any and all positive feelings he may hold towards Dib- it was how they were designed. They were to suppress any emotions that could get in the way of following the mission. Frankly, he wished he could just go and get it over with now. Emotions, as he had come to find out, were proving to be more of a curse than a gift. They didn't go any good to him when he was serving the Tallest, and they certainly aren't doing him any good now. In fact, they only seemed to be making things worse.

A knock on the door brought Zim out of his thoughts. He briefly considered asking Gir to get it, but the little robot was currently sound asleep, curled up on the edge of the bed, snoozing away absentmindedly. He sighed and reluctantly trudged over to hit the button to open the door. And of course, standing across from him was the one thing that seemed to be on his mind all the time as of late.

"Zim," Dib greeted, smiling awkwardly, "are you uh… doing anything today? It's our day off you know."

Zim, however, wasn't buying Dib's sudden show of kindness. He narrowed his tired eyes suspiciously. "What does it matter?"

Dib shrugged. "Well… today's the only day off we're gonna get for a while, and… I don't really have anything better to do, so… can I hang around with you?"

What Zim found the most strange was that he almost felt elated at the idea of spending the day with the Dib-beast- which seemed to be happening more and more as of late. Still, his pride wouldn't allow him to express that elation. Dib couldn't know that Zim was starting to respond to his presence in a positive manner. "No. Zim has important work to do. I'm trying to..." he trailed off as he struggled to come up with an excuse, "...do repairs on Gir. His voice box seems to be malfunctioning. Now go find someone else to play with."

But of course, as he should've figured, Dib wouldn't just go away. "Come on Zim, I'm serious! This is probably the only break we're going to get for a long time, so…" he paused, trying to find the right way to word his thoughts. He then cleared his throat, abruptly standing at attention. "Someone has to keep an eye on you, anyway. To make sure you don't go off and do something you shouldn't."

Zim eyed him warily before making a noise akin to a snort. "Who are you, my babysitter?"

He smirked, shrugging absentmindedly again. "If the shoe fits."

Zim deadpanned before heaving a long, heavy sigh and sidestepping to allow Dib entrance. "Well then, Dib, what do you suggest we do while stuck on this miserable ship?"

Truth be told, Dib hadn't really thought about that part. Come to think of it, there really wasn't much to do on this ship. It wasn't exactly built for recreation, after all- it was a place where soldiers could eat and sleep and train for an extended period of time before going back out onto the battlefield.

Then, a wild thought came to Dib- a crazy, mad thought that he may or may not end up regretting.

"Zim, let's spar."

Zim stared at him blankly, blinking slowly, before throwing his head back, erupting with loud, boisterous laughter. "Y-You w-want… to fight Zim? Are you feeling alright Dib?" His entire body shook as he laughed, and if Dib weren't so insulted he would be laughing himself over how ridiculous Zim looked at the moment.

"Yes, Zim, I'm feeling fine. And I'm serious. I'm pretty confident that I can take you; I mean, look at you. You're like, maybe 5 feet tall and you barely weigh half my weight. A stiff wind could get the best of you."

Zim's cheeks flushed at the remark. "Shut it Dib! You sincerely underestimate the strength of an Irken!"

Dib grinned. "Really? I'm underestimating you? I think it's the other way around."

That was the last straw for Zim, all he needed to push him over the edge. "Fine! If you're so confident then I accept your challenge! But know that just because we have an… ahem, acquaintanceship, that doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you! Zim will show you no mercy, understood?!"

"Yes sir~" Dib teased. "Come on, I think the training room is open for today."

Thankfully there wasn't anyone else there- meaning that they had the room to themselves. Dib was somewhat grateful for that- it meant that he had more room to move around to dodge an attack. Not to mention that for some reason, he felt it would be awkward, doing this for seemingly no reason in front of a bunch of strangers.

"Okay, so before we start, we should set some ground rules," Dib said.

"Ground rules?" Zim scoffed. "Please. As if I-"

"Zim."

"…Fiiiiiiine. What are your smelly 'rules'?"

Dib held up his index finger as he explained, his other hand placed on his hip as if trying to act like an instructor would. "First, this is going to be a fair fight. So no using your PAK legs or any sort of weapons you may be hiding."

A brief look of disappointment flashed across his face before his usual confident smirk settled in and replaced it. "So? Zim doesn't need his PAK to defeat the pathetic Dib-worm."

"I mean it Zim, if you use your PAK even once, I automatically win. Got it?"

Zim waved him off. Frankly, Dib's lack of faith in him was rather insulting. "Yes yes, I get it, now let's get on with your destruction, shall we?"

"That's the other thing, Zim. No beating each other within an inch of our lives this time. If one of us gives the signal, that means the other has to stop."

"But-"

Dib held up a hand. "No buts. Neither of us can afford to be seriously injured right before a battle. So if one of us taps out, the other wins. So promise me you'll listen."

"But-"

"Promise."

Zim grumbled something under his breath before huffing and muttering a reluctant "I promise."

But then again, Dib was no fool, and he was fully prepared for when Zim would ultimately decide that he was done humoring Dib and was ready to play his own game.

He and Zim both assumed their positions across from each other, Zim appearing positively deadly with his zipper-toothed grin. Dib fought off the slight nervousness he was feeling- sure, he'd had some intense battles with Zim, but he was a kid then. He liked to think that now the playing field was a little more level, and Zim would have a harder time taking him down now that he was, well, older.

Zim feigned a bored yawn. "Are you ready yet, Dib-smell? Zim doesn't have all day."

"Ready when you are, space boy. Your move."

Zim met his eyes, and if Dib stared hard enough he could almost see his own reflection. But then Zim was moving, charging at him with incredible speed, his tiny hands forming into small but no doubt powerful fists. Dib just barely managed to dodge in time, jerking awkwardly to the left to avoid having the wind knocked out of him.

Zim stumbled forward, hissing dangerously as if he were an angry cat. He locked eyes with Dib and charged forward once more, and Dib repeated the same dodging motion. This continued for a few moments, with Zim charging forward and attempting to hit him wherever he could reach, and Dib jerking and jumping, barely missing Zim's attacks.

"Urrrraaaaghhh! Are you going to keep doing that all day?! Fight back already, you horrible Dib-beast!"

Why was he hesitating? He'd always wanted the opportunity to punch Zim in his stupid idiotic green face. Now he had his chance! With a newfound strength, Dib charged forward at the same time as Zim, and before the Irken could reach up to block, Dib's fist had already connected with his jaw, sending the Irken stumbling backwards- right onto his ass.

After noticing that Zim wasn't getting up after the blow, Dib slowly walked over towards him to inspect the damage. "Zim? Hey, what's the matter with you?"

Zim didn't answer, curling himself into a small ball. A series of whimpers and violent shakes overtook his small form. Dib felt panic rising as he heard Zim's soft cries- God, he hadn't actually hurt the Irken, had he? It was just a punch- but then again, he did punch him pretty hard…

"Zim?" Dib bent down so he was eye to eye with him, attempting to pry his arms from his face. "Come on, it can't be that bad, let me see." He wasn't met with much resistance, so after he successfully managed to pry Zim's arms off his face, he noticed that there was a rather large, dark green bruise forming on Zim's cheek. His eyes were tightly closed shut, a hint of tears leaking from the corners. Years ago he would've been thrilled to see the Irken in pain. Now it brought him only a terrible tightness in his chest- and an overwhelming sense of shame.

"Zim? Oh God, Zim, please don't cry again, I hate seeing you cry, cause then you make me cry and then things get… weird. Uh, I really didn't think I hit you that hard. Shit, uh… what do I do…"

As Dib continued to have a small crisis over what to do in this scenario, he failed to notice Zim's dangerous grin. It was barely a second later before Zim lunged forward, tackling Dib to the ground. Once he was down, Zim grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head. Dib struggled underneath Zim's weight- he wasn't that heavy, but with his arms pinned down, he didn't have the strength to get Zim off of him.

"Y-You asshole!" Dib sputtered. "You were faking it! I should've known-"

"Of course I was faking it, Dib-fool! Did you really think the almighty Zim would go down with one punch?!" He laughed again, and it was that stupid cocky laugh that Dib had always hated hearing as a kid.

"Well what was I supposed to think?! You were crying, I thought I seriously hurt you!" Dib retorted, attempting to cover up his foolish blunder. If Zim weren't on top of him right now he'd be kicking himself. How could he have not realized?

"And that, Dib, is the first rule of combat." He leaned down close so he was face to face with Dib. "Never let your opponent get the upper hand." He roughly grabbed Dib's chin with his free hand. "You see, this was your first mistake- allowing your emotions into battle. On the battlefield, emotions mean nothing- you will never succeed if you're scared to hurt someone."

Dib had no rebuttal to that. Zim was right. If he couldn't learn to control his emotions, then he wouldn't last ten seconds in a real fight with anyone, let alone an Irken.

"No other Irken is going to be as merciful as I am. An Irken on the battlefield is fierce, destructive, and virtually unstoppable. If you hesitate to strike first, then they will- and chances are, you won't survive after the first blow." He forcefully released his chin, and drew ever closer to Dib's face. "Do you understand now, Dib? I have you completely at my mercy, and if I were any other Irken, I would destroy you on the spot. Do you realize how glad you should be right now? Do you now realize how foolish all of this is?"

For a few moments, all Dib could hear was Zim's egotistical rambling, but when Zim released his chin, his words started coming in clearer. He understood now. Zim was trying, in his own strange way, to teach him.

"...I get it, Zim. I get it."

Zim didn't respond with words, but he didn't have to. Dib could see the affirmation in his eyes. Perhaps Zim was right, maybe he wasn't, but the fact was that he couldn't just... ignore his emotions, at least, not when he was with Zim. What was it about Zim that made him so passionate?

"So, Dib, do you submit? Or do I need to subject you to a bit of torture before you'll acknowledge my superiority?"

"Never," Dib shook his head. The answer came out instantaneously, like an automatic response. "I'm not gonna give into you… ever…"

When had the air between them changed? It was as if a switch had been flipped, and all the sudden the atmosphere was charged with electricity. Dib's heart was pounding against his ribcage as he awaited Zim's next move. What was he going to do? Right now the alien was nearly frozen, his face still so dangerously close to Dib's. But his eyes held that same look, the look that was surely in his own as well. When had he gotten so good at reading him?

"You should," Zim warned, though his tone held no real malice, "or maybe Zim will decide to decorate that pathetic human skin of yours by carving his name into your flesh…" His hands suddenly trailed down Dib's arms before reaching his torso. "Over and over… I'll mark you so everyone here knows you belong to me."

"...Scary," Dib quipped. Truth be told, a small part of him was actually concerned over what Zim's next move would be. Would he really try that? "Now, can you maybe get off me..? If you keep moving like that things might get… awkward. More awkward than they already are."

"Awkward? How? As if Zim would ever listen to you!" As a show of defiance, Zim seated himself further upwards on his lap, shifting to make himself comfortable. Dib bit his lip, hoping that he could keep himself contained long enough to get Zim off of him.

"Zim, I mean it, if you don't get off me, I'm going to push you off myself."

"Nonsense! Zim will get up when he pleases!"

"Okay, but you asked for it."

With his now free hands, Dib reached up and grabbed Zim's hips as if to steady him. Zim immediately began squirming in response. "Get your filthy hands off me stink-beast!"

Dib didn't answer him, and with all the strength he could muster, he used both hands to push Zim to the left and onto the floor beneath them. Once he successfully got him onto the floor, Dib repeated Zim's earlier actions and pinned his wrists above his head, and since Zim was so much smaller, it was easy for him to pin both wrists with one hand.

"And that, Zim, is the first rule of combat. Never let your opponent get the upper hand."

Zim squirmed restlessly beneath Dib's hold. "Foolish Dib-monkey! If you think this will make me submit then you've got another-"

"You win."

"Eh?"

Dib lightly tapped the floor with his free hand. "See? There's the signal. You win this round."

"B-But… I don't understand… you had Zim pinned… if you had kept this position…"

"Then we would've been here for hours," Dib said, "because you're so stubborn. So you win this round."

"B-But… what about our fight? You owe Zim a fair fight! You can't just let me win!"

He released Zim's wrists before rising to his feet, stepping away from Zim to free him completely. "We had our fight Zim, and you were right. You're a good fighter." He suddenly smirked. "But I still know how to kick your ass. You're as predictable as ever right now, Zim. I just proved that. That's a sweet enough victory for me."

Zim did the same thing, standing up and readjusting his disgruntled uniform. "N-No you didn't! So you pinned Zim down once, big deal! You owe Zim a proper battle! Now get over here and face me!"

"I don't owe you anything. I don't want to fight with you anymore today, we're done."

"B-But-"

"Come on, let's go see if the cafeteria is still open for lunch."

For the first time in a while, Zim found himself silenced, unable to protest any longer. With a grumble under his breath, he reluctantly followed Dib out of the training room and to the cafeteria.

"Everything alright, Ms. Astralle?"

Atra blinked as her surroundings started to come into focus. Had she been zoning out again? "Captain," she said smoothly, as though she had been aware the whole time. She rose from her chair and politely saluted him. "What can I do for you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that the salute isn't necessary?"

She laughed slightly. "Sorry, force of habit. So, did you need something?"

Lard Nar shook his head. "No, actually, at least… not right now. I just noticed that lately you seem… distracted, unfocused. That's not like you. Did something happen that I should be aware of?"

Atra thought back to her conversations with Infera. She had revealed a lot of things, things that she had thought she would always keep to herself. Feelings, people, places… they were all so new… and as of late, she felt much more sensitive to these things.

But there was still something missing, something she wasn't quite grasping yet. But what was it..?

"No, nothing, just… I've been thinking about the past a bit, that's all."

"That's all?" He let out a loud laugh. "Well you shouldn't be doing that, the past is the past! It's over now, gone, poof. The end. What you should be looking at is the future!"

Atra frowned. "Captain, you know how I feel about using my future vision… besides, nothing is set in stone and there's no way to tell for certain-"

"Tell me what you think, then," he prompted. "Tell me your best guess, based off of the path we're going now. Are we… are we going to win this war?"

She didn't like using her future vision, at least, not since her failed mission. She strongly advised against it, especially considering how quickly and rapidly the paths changed. So many possible outcomes, all depending on possible choices she or the captain could make.

"I can't say for certain, but… I see a few futures in which we all survive, and the Empire falls. But… the probability of any of those futures coming to fruition… is very low."

"I see… can you tell me… the likeliest outcome?"

"You… won't like it…" she warned.

He hesitated for a moment, as if he was considering retracting his request, before finally nodding his head. "...Tell me anyway. I need to be prepared for anything."

She sighed, lowering her head, murmuring gently, as if she were hoping he wouldn't hear her. "The Control Brains fall, the Tallest's escape, and the Resisty is broken up and spread all over the galaxy."

Tense silence filled the room for a few moments before finally Lard Nar heaved a long sigh. "I can work with that. Thank you. That will be all."

"Captain-"

"Yes?"

"You… do you have faith that we can win?"

The question caught both her and Lard Nar off guard. The Atra he knew would've never asked such a question. What had changed?

He smiled. "What an odd question, coming from you. I'm the captain, you see! I have to have enough faith for everyone here. If I look like I'm confident and ready, the others will naturally follow suit! Although… truth be told… after my last encounter with the Massive… why, I'm downright terrified to be taking on the Empire again." He paused abruptly to clear his throat. "But I feel… a bit better this time. I have a competent crew, a clear goal, and a solid plan to set in motion. So really… it's not just you putting your faith in me, Miss Astralle… it's me putting my faith in you, and everyone else onboard this ship." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I trust you. I trust everyone onboard this ship, unconditionally. But Atra, tell me… right now… do you trust yourself? You seem so hesitant."

She couldn't answer him. She had no idea how to go about it- did she trust herself? She wasn't sure anymore. She wasn't even sure if she knew who "Atra" was anymore. "Atra" wasn't even her real name. Atrana Astralle was a false identity she created for herself in an attempt to start over after her failures got people she dared to care about killed. Who was she, then? Where did she belong? On this ship, with these rebels who had been nothing but kind to her? Or… did she belong back home, with her own kind?

"…I don't think I do, captain," she finally said. "I don't think I do."