Eternal Rivals

Summary: Even with civilization falling to pieces around them, Zim was determined that they continue their deadly game, that Dib never diverted his attentions, and that his young rival remained the same enemy he met so long ago.

-(A/N): So explaining much too long absence: I'm not going to deny it, but this chapter was a bit rushed. After all, I wasn't writing anything on the twenty-fourth or the twenty-fifth. But it needed to get out there. I had to replace the original chapter five because I didn't like the way it made the story flow and rewrote this one to make things sound much better. Plus I had a bout of stomach virus and some other nasties and was really forced to sit through that. So sorry for the wait, hopefully no one was too impatient with me this time. Please enjoy this chapter, because I certainly didn't enjoy writing it.

"The world is a vampire, sent to drain secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames. And what do I get, for my pain? Betrayed desires and a piece of the game. Even though I know - I suppose I'll show all my cool and cold - like an old job. Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage. Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage. Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved." –Smashing Pumpkins, Bullet with Butterfly Wings

The Conquest set up shop in the conquered human city of Detroit, robot crews and enslaved engineers instantly sent to work on fixing up the interior damage caused by Gaz's flashy exit previously. During this time, the residents were ordered to begin the ceremonial fireworks show that was let loose whenever Zim saw fit to dock the battle cruiser at any one of their unimportant little settlements. The display was necessary, and intended as a firm reminder of his power and authority over them.

However, it wasn't long before the displays had grown to please him as well.

He grew to love the explosions on this planet. In fact, almost as much as the humans themselves did. Humans loved their fireworks big, colorful and overflowing with the stench of powder and smoke. It was one of the very few things that Zim had learned to appreciate about their kind, which was why he made his debut entrance as the world's destroyer as dramatic as possible, leading the Conquest right into the center of an Independence Day celebration as his first act of destruction with the completed battleship.

A grand day, with the behemoth emerging dramatically from the smoke and multi-colored sparks of those human celebrations, and watching as their shocked looks transformed into a wave of all consuming fear. To hear the screaming wails and to see them run! It was something that Zim had daydreamed about so many times before, long before the powerful ship came into his possession.

At the moment though, there was nothing but a stark silence and a tense atmosphere of waiting. In fact, the colorful explosions that had excited him were almost completely ignored from his study that day.

Zim was not accustomed to waiting for any length of time unless he absolutely had to. Angry and impatient, he found that sitting in one place doing nothing had strained his self-control; the 'skool' had taught this little fact well if nothing else. Zim simply could not—would not—sit still. There always had to be something in his hands to mess with; something to keep his mind occupied from other matters. In fact, one of the only things that he could stand waiting for was his Tallests' word, but that was then.

This was a much different problem from his leaders' desire and one Zim did not want to be patient for.

Which was exactly why he was staring blankly at the digital clock set upon his desk, and his claws twined around a pair of well-worn glasses in his hands, while subconsciously drawing more small scratches in the already useless frames. Zim still considered them a kind of 'war trophy' as it were, and valuable proof of the dominion he'd obtained over his rival, now marked and disfigured by years of rough handling since he'd stolen them. He made no effort to be gentle, but bent and abused the glass object granting sight as much as possible without completely destroying them in the process. Someone could have used that attitude and habit as a reference for how Zim treated certain other people he despised.

Still, it made any victory he felt by obtaining the trophy dim considerably now that the prisoner kept secure for so many years had escaped, before even his delicate work was completed. So close and yet so far, and for once he could directly blame the Gaz-beast for the setback.

That was something he rarely cared very much for.

Clashes between them were a—albeit poor—substitute for the battles Zim exchanged with her brother in the past, but since letting him loose intentionally was never an option, he just had to deal with it. For one thing, the girl fought him out of pure necessity and basically nothing else, which was one of the reasons why she was so drastically different. Gaz made no effort to seek him out and they only ended up fighting if the strained circumstances wouldn't allow for otherwise—Zim wasn't always in this region of the planet after all; the Conquest had many places to go—where the typical exchange of old sarcastic 'pleasantries' was scarce if completely nonexistent. And though they were enemies, the invader couldn't help but respect her slightly and had even once extended an invitation to join him at one point—which of course, was summarily refused—though the human's harsh countenance had intimidated him.

It was a so very cold and distant method of war, and Zim was more suited to the bright fires of destruction and words of rage hurled over an open battlefield. And since that was never really his usual method of operation, he had to take out his anger on the prisoner the moment that some good free time presented itself, not that it was always so easy to obtain.

There was a great deal of work involved with leading a war, and his own vessel of destruction wasn't even always at the crux of the fighting, instead focusing on what each individual squadron was doing and where. They were such an inconsistent hassle, and given the choice, Zim would have loved to have brought in Irken fighters instead to take over the more menial tasks. Still, what his pawns lacked in pure firepower or the Empire's soldier-perfect efficiency, they more than made up for terms of jarring speed.

So for a much shorter time than he imagined, Zim remained there in the dimly lit study, waiting for the report from the fighters to come in. And when the proximity alarms rang, telling him of the ships' return, he impatient rose to his feet and headed immediately to the elevator to see to their arrival. "Computer! Take me to the Docking Bay now!" A signature, sharp snap sent the machine moving rapidly.

'Understood. Master, we appear to have received reports from the squadrons issued orders from abroad. Shall I relay the information they have collected for you now?'

Well, that was actually a pleasant surprise for once. Zim wasn't expecting for the fighters sent overseas to have retrieved some good intelligence already, though it was really just another fine example of these allies' useful essence of speed going at work. He couldn't be everywhere at once, so the smaller fleets of ships were put to work to spread all across the planet, striking at major cities and making his power known world-wide. An excellent way to rise to the top in his opinion, and they'd better have a bit of news to lighten his already bad mood. "Yes, yes, what have they sent? Tell meee..."

'Er yes... The report reads as follows:

Strike units Sri and Trell dispatched to the city of London have met with considerably heavy resistance. Although the odds are in their favor, commanders have recorded casualties of ten hunter-class ships and two battle cruisers; the remains of which were disposed of to prevent enemy retrieval. Units Vyskir, Moloch and Tosh have currently laid siege to the Russian capital of Moscow and predict that the city will fall within the next week—task commanders comment that their cruisers fare extremely well in areas of very low temperatures. Units Dol and Fyaine have set down a base camp perimeter in China, where current resistance is minimal. Canadian defenses to the north are holding strong for the moment, but reinforcements from Rask unit have produced fractures in their frontline. General chaos prevails to the south, but so far, no united resistance movement has appeared to challenge us yet.'

A lot of fighting, but not many massive countries put completely under his heel quite yet. (Although the knowledge that his fleets were so effective against a giant like Russia and had almost taken a major city was music to his antennae.) Most of his clear wins were the ones obtained right from the outset, as surprise was a major factor leading to many cities into falling to his power. But from there it was more about his foes digging in deep to weather the attacks like stones facing the tornado. Occasionally, a harried request would come in to him from one of the frontlines field of battle for some extra firepower and—depending on the situation at hand—Zim would happily oblige and lead the Conquest in to capture another victory. Irken ships boasted such enormous destructive potential that five of his allies' battle cruisers wouldn't stand a chance against it. But there still was just one of them in his arsenal.

He was still capturing provinces left and right, no doubt about that, but the humans were resisting him every step of the way. Not very well granted, but they did fight. Zim knew humans could be dumb, but he also knew they could definitely be stubborn mongrels too. He had Dib to thank for that knowledge.

Though speaking of that little nuisance of a human...

"I see, and the return patrol? Did they succeed in the mission I gave them?" However, instead of the reply he expected, only the ever-present hum of the elevator's descent was heard, "Computer!"

'No response from the patrol, Master. They're probably doing the same thing as before.'

How annoying. Really, their tendency to need up close and personal chats was a waste of Zim's valuable time and energy. Still, he had already arrived at the docking station where the ships were waiting.

With a rush of air the door swung open to reveal a massive dock, many times the size of the escape pod hanger from which the escape had been enacted—still under repair, much to Zim's distaste—and the violet walls of the chamber hummed a deep rumble that was so much more intense near the rear of the ship. Five obsidian black vessels were docked currently; their engines still glowing crimson from the chemical-tinted flame that had been pulsing through them only a few minutes before. They were several times larger than his Voot cruiser, as the Invader's small ship was designed for a race whose average size was comparable to human children, and the creatures piloting these fighters were easily larger in scale.

Zim strode up the catwalk overlooking the vessels and waited for them to emerge from the ship to speak with him, but nothing occurred. "Why do these cowards refuse to show their faces to me?" It wasn't that he didn't know what his pawns looked like—no, he knew perfectly well—but their unwillingness to face him down was both infuriating and supremely rude to a trigger-happy alien.

'The Tosen are like that, master...' As usual, if the computer cared at all, it showed no sign of doing so.

But still, it was true. Galaxian wanderers that they were, those of Tosen race were unaccustomed to confrontational situations, though their natural skill for combat was undeniable even to Zim. Coming into contact with them at the perfect moment gave Zim an excellent weapon against Earth, and by using these travelers' own valued culture against them, he knew that they would not dare betray him.

A brief flash emitted from the vessels' front window, and a white noise swept over it as a projected monitor emerged from the surface, and began to display a long string of what looked to be barcode.

After an expectant tapping of Zim's booted heel, the computer hummed again, 'Beginning translation.'

After a low beep and a slight pause, the barcode broke down and was reorganized into numbers and then once more into more recognizable—to Zim at least—Irken lettering. A scratchy, mechanized voice coldly laid out the information to hear aloud. 'Pursuit crafts followed the target and Dal-Shie—'

Annoyed at the unfamiliar word, Zim interrupted the scroll of words quickly, causing the flow of text to slow to a stop in response, "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

'It's a Tosen title and therefore cannot be translated Master. However, if I make an educated guess on the meaning, I believe it means "Ice Queen." Given the context, it is probably a gesture of respect.'

That managed to elicit a growl from the alien invader as the words sunk in. Sure, maybe he respected the Gaz a little bit too sometimes, but he wasn't about to go around saying that out loud or giving her nice little nicknames. Besides which the only nicknames he ever really gave were the nasty or rude ones that were usually reserved especially for the girl's brother. "Tch, foolishness... You may continue."

'We sent pursuit immediately to follow the two, however, the piloting skills demonstrated by Dal-Shie were far more advanced than the reports provided to us. We were finally able to corner the escape pod near the outskirts of the Dead City and prepared to carry out retrieval before interference from the girl's companions in the Dead City arrived. They deployed primitive explosives, but Dal-Shie took the opportunity to redirect the vessel and escape into the urban sector and we were forced to retreat.'

But the end of this little speech, Zim was absolutely fuming, "So you let them escape?!"

'Sir, I believe it was your direct order that we avoid entering the Dead City unless accompanied by the Conquest or another cruiser,' The Tosen reply was so unconcerned and precise that it had to be read over a second time to make sure that they were really paying attention to him this time around.

Still, even though they had failed at returning his prisoner, Zim was at least partially mollified to learn that they were actually taking his orders seriously and using them as precedent. "Well, there will be other opportunities...Other chances to fix your mistakes. Refuel and return to patrol until I call for you again. Until then... just keep yourselves away from Zim if you value your hides!" Making certain to end his little chat on a dramatic note, the Irken spun on his heel suddenly and stomped out of the hanger, fully committed to just return to his personal chambers and think up a quick plan for tearing apart that accursed city as he knew he should have done years ago. Gaz and her entourage were finally starting to cross the line from mere common pests to a problem he had to personally deal with.

He also had a very pressing appointment later that couldn't be missed.

Of course, the real importance of the matter was that Dib was loose now, and Zim knew that the boy would waste no time trying to find a way to jam a nasty wrench into his gears. There had to be a good way to rip the area apart and find him, but there were reasons why he had restricted most travel to the Dead City, and why the place he had formally posed as a human was renamed in such a manner. For one thing, the since-grown cloud of pollution above the urban waste had caused the heat to rise unnaturally high. The humans could tolerate it, as natives of this disgusting mud ball, and Zim was relatively safe behind the Conquest's cold metal hull, but the Tosen and their ships couldn't stand the temperatures very long. Only brief forays and sudden raids into the city could be allowed, and always on a time limit.

Not to mention that the tiny resistance there were just about as stubborn and hardy as cockroaches.

'Master, I'm receiving word from the Research Division. They want to know why they haven't gotten any recent samples for the Dominion Project at the time specified. Shall I relay an explanation to them about the escape...?' There was another problem to solve apparently. And Zim's claw paused halfway to the manual controls on the elevator, now of the mind to take control of his destination without bothering with the Computer anymore for the day. Growling about people unable to do their assigned jobs and irritating him every second of his time, the invader adjusted the coordinates of the elevator to the primary research labs instead, deciding to give them a story that would get his workers to shut up.

"No! I let you tell them and you'll probably screw it up!" The Computer only hummed, but didn't otherwise respond and soon enough, the only sound filling the air was the soft thrumming of the elevator's movements. When the doors finally slid open once more, he was met the with the sight of white-washed walls—unique compared to the rest of the Conquest—and panels of thick, bulletproof glass separated certain sterilized work areas from the rest of the lab. This was one of the few sectors of the ship in which mutated creatures or robots were replaced with actual human workers, in this case being scientists assigned to assist on his most prized projects, things that Zim was often too preoccupied with war to work on himself. Now though, even though there were a variety of smaller projects being researched here and there, the main focus of the lab workers was his Dominion Project.

At the far end of the lab, room had been cleared to allow space for a massive piece of machinery that buzzed and flickered as the scientists on duty attempted to keep the power output steady. To Zim it was a valuable ring of metal he'd poured his genius intellect into perfecting and ending up never actually using thanks to a strange warning, but that didn't mean he couldn't repurpose it.

Unfortunately there was nothing he could do with the culmination of so many years of hard work until certain obstacles had been removed and certain humans in particular were forcefully suppressed. Construction on the framework and interior components of the Dominion generator were nearly complete but controlling it was the only issue. Now Zim had no choice but to place the device into hibernation so that it didn't become too unstable and work on finding his escapee.

His mind was elsewhere as he brushed off the concerns of the lead researcher, telling him to make do with the samples he had and put the Dominion to sleep for the time being, as there still was a meeting he had to attend and couldn't afford to have to worry about the generator yet.

Zim had to be the very picture of confidence and power.

The Tallests would be calling soon for the report, and there was no room for error.

-ZZZZZZZ-

(A/N): Short chapter, but considering how frustrated I was with it, this turned out better than I expected.