Hey all! I think this is my most difficult chapter, yet. Battle scenes are not my forte, but I gave it a shot all the same because it was detrimental to the plotline. I hope you all like it!
I'm sorry about the confusion about Amelia and Gretchen. Gretchen has a lot of growth to undergo, I think, so I believe I've finally decided on the role I'm looking to give her. I wanted all of the characters in Invader Zim to be somewhat canon to their role in the show. Gretchen, we know, has a crush on Dib. Also, we'll be seeing faces like Bill and Dwicky. That'll be fun!
Also...I don't know how to feel about Membrane taking Washington's role...but we'll see how it plays out. I didn't want to fill the fic with too many OCs. The first is Amelia and the next up is Laurent to take the role of John Laurens.
Chapter Three- You'll Be Back/Right Hand Man
"My Tallest, these humans wish to go through with a human war with sharp objects on the end of their guns. They wish to…claim their….independence…" Zim, again, chose his words carefully as he communicated with his leaders. Down in the basement of his shop after closing, weeks after he had hired Dib, he had his own little base sectioned off from the remainder of the warehouse. He used technology hidden from the humans, whose brains most certainly could not wrap around the concept of technology itself. Meanwhile, Zim had trouble understanding what a bayonet's function was.
His leaders, with whom he spoke of as his "Tallest" were just that: they were incredibly tall. Two males with different colored eyes being their only main difference. That, and their personalities. The leader with red eyes appeared in thought of this, far in the reaches of space, he could have humored Zim with anything he desired to hear.
"Tch, why don't you go with them?" He asked aloud and not necessarily to Zim. Tallest Red only thought of this as a means to get rid of the pesky invader.
"And study their tactics of war to use against them?" Zim inquired in return, matching question for question to see if he fully understood.
"Sure, why not?"
"Excellent suggestion, My Tallest!" Zim's own crimson eyes widened in delight at the notion. Finally, he would have war in his hands again and his role as an invader would serve purpose. So much necessary purpose.
Tallest Purple eyed his comrade cautiously, knowing well what this could mean. He already saw the question before it came from Zim, and so he decided to nudge his companion lightly.
"You know what he's going to ask for," he hissed softly, his claws resting gently upon his shoulder.
Red flinched at that, knowing well that Purple was right on target as Zim was too quiet for his liking. The little Irken was rubbing his jaw in thought, Red envisioned the laundry list of items Zim would next request for in order to successfully blow up the underdeveloped world. In normal circumstances, he wouldn't care. But, some of his best soldiers were undercover for this mission.
"My Tallest!" Zim announced. "As such the role of an invader, I am going to require some special weapons."
"Special weapons, Zim?" Purple repeated.
"The Megadoomer, for starters," Zim did indeed begin the laundry list that Red had feared. "And perhaps some proton blasters, the miniature ones that evaporate the enemy and leave behind their shoes? Those are always fun! And then I'll need-"
Red cut him off. He raised his clawed hand and looked down at the invader, even from the depths of space over a monitor. "Zim, I don't think that'll be necessary," Red intruded on his thoughts. He took in the glare of protest from Zim, only to close his eyes and shake his head.
"You're getting ahead of yourself." Purple then peered over, curious as to where his companion was going with this.
"I am?" Zim asked, blinking slowly as he proceeded to lower his excited fists.
"Don't you think it would be more effective to study the humans, and like you said, to use their tactics against them?" Red leaned into the screen, hopeful the little insane one would comprehend. When he didn't receive a response from Zim, he continued. "The humans, from how you've described, are very strong in their feelings and emotions. Something a lot of the other alien races out there don't seem to have."
"This is," Zim paused. "True."
"Don't you think you'll have a stronger effect against the humans if you pretend to be on their side and then attack them with their own?" Red finalized.
Zim glanced away and down from the screen, pondering just this. His eyes appeared to be searching for the right answer for this. Deep down, he was hopeful to show off his alien technology, the pride of the Irken Elite. He wanted Irken pride stamped everywhere, as he envisioned. He wanted so much more than what his leaders were suggesting.
"But, my Tallest-"
"Rip them little by little, like tissue paper, Zim," Red pressed.
Could doing as was suggested have more effect than blasting them away like the roaches they were? They just kept breeding and copulating. Again, another process Zim just could not comprehend as Irkens bred in a different matter. But, like roaches, they kept producing newer versions of themselves every day. They were unstoppable.
"Blasting them away wouldn't be as satisfying, would it?"
"No, my Tallest, it wouldn't," Zim said, almost defeated.
"Then take my advice. Undercover Invader. See things from their perspective and strike when the time comes for it."
"Undercover Invader?" Zim tested the title on his tongue.
"You're defeating them by merely observing alone. Let them rip one another apart by going to war. And just when they think they've won, then you'll attack. You're an Invader, you'll know what to do."
"You are right that my most impressive and extensive training will suffice and come in handy when the time comes," Zim agreed. "So, then I'll-"
"Then it's settled. No use for Irken technology right now," Red shrugged coolly. "Alright Zim, we're done here." Red clicked and severed the communication before Zim could respond.
"You just didn't want to give it to him, did you?" Purple smirked.
"We have some of our best invaders out there, right now," Red replied, glancing over his shoulder back to Purple. "Tenn, Tak, Zia, even Skoodge."
"Doesn't Skoodge hang around Zim?" Purple arched a brow.
"For now until something better along comes, I'm sure. No one could stand Zim for lengths of time, anyway." Red waved his hand. Could Purple really deny the truth in that?
The two finally made eye contact before bursting out into a chorus of laughter. Red had no intention of wasting technology on Zim. He was just too untrustworthy with it to just be given away freely. Who knows, maybe Zim would even perish in battle. A defective invader was no invader, at all.
So, Zim closed down the warehouse to sign them all up for the impending war against Britain. Their King, King George III was convinced that those seeking their independence would come crawling back like dogs to the feet of their master. King George also promised to squash their battalion. Zim, intrigued, couldn't wait to learn more about this man.
Dib seemed keen on joining, considering this his opportunity to make something of himself and to make his sister proud. Dib had no wife to come home to, yet, so his sister was all who he had. The only way for him to grow as a person was to live. He couldn't rely on waiting for life to come find him; he had to make his own. Perhaps he was even hopeful of making a name for himself this way. All of the other men seemed enthusiastic to serve their country, and this land was yearning to become independent from Britain's hold, just as Dib was hopeful to one day become just as independent to stand alone. His eyes shone with pride as he was handed his uniform, and suppressed the urge to clutch the fabric to him with delight.
"You signed us up for this crappy battle? This is no different than the play pens back home," Madge hissed.
"Zim thinks it'll be good for us to learn their battle strategies." Skoodge decided to defend Zim, as Zim was one of the few true friends he could consider possessing and Irkens didn't have friends, they had comrades and partners.
Madge shook his head and donned the uniform, finding it silly and revolting to wear a uniform that wasn't of the Irken party. In his hand was a remote to keep up the fleshy complexions, turning the dial with his thumb, and each dial was set to each Invader. Madge was quite pleased with himself for inventing such a device.
Madge heard hisses of there being a leader approaching them, he heard such titles as "The General" and "His Excellency." He was curious, perhaps it was an invader under the game guise as them. But no, the man towered over them in the dark uniform, golden buttons shone intimidatingly against the badges he possessed. Goggles for glasses, but he supposed that was to prevent blood from getting into his eyes. His imagination ran wild, wickedly and Madge attempted to suppress a grin at the gore trickling in his mind. This war had so much potential.
"Sush. It appears our leader is approaching," Zim commented.
The man placed his hands behind his back, eyeing the soldiers carefully. "My father was a General before me, and he trained me in the ways of battle. Normally, science has been my first love, but fate has a funny way of exposing itself to where you are meant to be." He slowly walked down the line as the men situated themselves into one. "But, duty comes before anything else. As much as I am a graduate and scholar, I am a soldier first and foremost. This war is no humorous ploy, there are no breaks, there is no retiring home after the end of the day to your loved ones. We return when the war has ended."
"Yes, sir!" The man said in unison, Zim peered over as all he, Madge and Skoodge were doing was saluting.
"To conclude, my name is Professor John Membrane. You may call me "Professor" if you so wish. We proceed to battle at 0600 hours. We shall ride."
But, none of the men did. They addressed him as "General", "His Excellency", or even the occasional, "Professor." He went by all of them just the same come morning. But the universal "sir, yes sir" rang out loud and true.
At dawn, all of the men rode onto the battle field. They rode horseback along a long stretch of land, cautious though they were of the enemy. Special men were assigned to the task of lookout. Nowhere was safe and there was no fair play when it came to war. They were welcomed with a barrage of gun and canon fire. Many of the men shrieked in retreat, terrified, yet many, including all of Zim's warehouse men, remained.
Even Keef and Melvin took position, Madge looking over the young boys and instructing them on what to do.
"Don't show them how to hold a gun that way! But this way!" Zim snatched the bayonet from Madge and proceeded to stare at it obliviously. Dib crouched down behind a trench, firing his gun. For those who didn't know how to fire a weapon, they picked it up as they went along. Zim eyed the bayonet and used a jabbing motion to show to use it by striking.
"I don't think that's how it's done!" Madge argued.
"Will you two shut up!?" Dib hollered as Keef and Melvin cowered in fear deep within the trench. The two were not soldiers, but Zim signed them up all the same. Dib glared at the group he was associated with. With each explosion of the balls against the ground, he could have sworn he noticed a flickering in the trio's complexion, just as he had the first night he met them.
But, none of that seemed to matter. Especially as Zim appeared terribly distracted and something/someone was nearing to attack him. While he barely knew Zim, he helped when he needed it the most. He helped to put food on Dib's table and a roof over his head. Taking the image to be the effects of war, Dib shook his head and took a breath. There was no time to overthink things now as he stretched into play and reached for his employer. He seemed so far away, the reality of the situation playing in slow motion for Dib to fully grasp.
Contact was made and he tackled Zim to the ground. The attacker lost his balance and fell into the trench, where he was met with a shot to the chest by Madge, readily crouched into position and staring menacingly at the attacker. Dib picked his head up, this now being the second time he knocked someone onto the ground; not that he was looking to make a habit of it, but, this time was necessary.
The two men looked at one another, Dib on top of Zim as the other appeared embarrassed that he wasn't more agile, or more alert. He smacked Dib from him as the other glared.
"Who said you could touch Zim!?" Zim aggressively brushed off his clothing and snatched his gun from the ground.
Attempting to process this reaction, Dib shook his head, noticing the other men having stopped to stare at them.
"Come on, you guys!" He attempted to encourage them. "Pick up your gun. Start fighting."
"Our honor is at stake!" A fellow soldier proclaimed. Dib glanced over at him. Sun kissed arms exposed by rolled up sleeves. His chocolate eyes were disarming, as even Dib blinked. "Our honor is our most important asset, gentlemen."
Honor? Dib heard the word, albeit, never understood the meaning up until this point. He assumed it came with life experience and the points gained through it. Battle was not pretty, as Dib could see- limbs scattered on the field, dirt caked with wet blood on the soles of their boots.
"Without our honor." Dib heard clearly through the gun fire. "We have nothing and are nothing." That he understood with certain clarity.
"I'm Dib!" He shouted over the gunfire and sank into the depths of the trenches.
"Laurent Clemens!" He replied and held his hand out to shake the others hand to which Dib took without hesitation and shook it.
"That was quite a powerful speech!"
"Everything I've said is true. In today's day and age, a man only has his honor. Hold it close to you, Dib!" Laurent offered the other man a grin before hearing a whistle overhead, a large black ball come in contact with the dirt, to which the velocity sent the men backward and indented them into the trench with a dissatisfying groan.
Those cannons made quite a powerful explosion, and only if there was a way for he and his men to have such a tool on their side. There was one way, he thought to himself, and would require the assistance of a few men to accomplish it.
"I'll need you to cover me, Laurent," Dib said as he held his side, peeling himself from against the wall of the trench. "You, me, and the others. Let's steal some cannons."
"That is a brilliant plan, my friend!" Laurent's eyes glistened in admiration. "Let's go!"
"Are you hurt?" Dib then asked.
"It is but a flesh wound," Laurent waved him off. Scrapes and bruises were part of the fun of battle. Dying was an honor.
The two men waved along Skoodge, Zim, Madge, Keef and Melvin. Zim insisted on staying behind to better shoot his weapon and learn more about his bayonet. Madge refused to leave Zim unattended and men should always have a cover for one another. Dib shook his head and continued, hearing Madge call him crazy, followed by how such an action would get himself killed. Dib had heard worse in his lifetime and continued to crawl through the trench, realizing then he was taking charge and leading these men.
Initially, the thought scared him and caused him to stop, only for the encouraging nudge of Laurent to keep him going. "You've got this my friend. We are going to steal some cannons!" He chuckled heartily. Dib smiled in return and continued to crawl, making haste and pausing when he heard the whistling of another ball. Adjusting his glasses, he waved the other men along.
"On my signal," Dib said, although Laurent struck the soldier wielding the cannon and Dib watched him fall into the center of the trench. Melvin quickly tied him up, happy he didn't have to endure the more physical work of this labor. Whether or not Dib understood it, he had completely reversed the scenario in the favor of his troupe.
The men later celebrated with cheers of admiration, something Dib had never before experienced. Sure, he had the support from his loved ones to send him off to school and send him away from the land he once called home. But, it was nothing in comparison to these men chanting his name in admiration and honor.
"Do you believe that Dib managed to turn the tide like that?" Madge inquired.
"It was honestly really brave," Skoodge retorted. "Something Zim would have done, I think."
"Zim would have taken out the full battalion if he had the proper equipment," Madge chuckled. "But, you know, Zim, Dib did save your life."
"The Dib had shown great promise out there. But, I'm going to request audience with the General to discuss further tactics. The boy is inexperienced in warfare," Zim said with a sigh as he rose from the cot he was staying in, making sure it was apart from the other soldiers so he, Madge, and Skoodge could have their privacy.
"You managed to figure out the use of the bayonet?" Madge asked with a playful smirk upon his features, which earned a grunt and annoyed look in response from Zim.
"You stabby stabby with it. Everyone knows that. Now zip it before I use it on you." And with that, Zim turned his heel and proceeded to march towards where the General resided.
Skoodge shook his head, glancing back towards Dib who was looked upon as a victor, for once in his lifetime, as opposed to a loser. Zim owed the boy an apology, but his ego was too big and he had too much pride.
"So, you see, General. I think we should move in sections of men to cover more ground in order to annihilate the filthy enemy. If we send in troops in small battalions, we're more likely to-"
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Dib asked as he poked his head, opening the door ajar.
"Ah, yes, the boy who plays with cannons. Come on inside. And soldier? Close the door on the way out."
Zim balked at this, lowering his hands to his sides. He glared at the boy who was slowly taking his glory away from him. Perhaps it was jealousy that was brewing inside of Zim. He was uncertain of what the feeling was, as he was always so sure of himself and his actions. But, a simple boy was stripping the uncertainty from Zim and he knew he didn't like it. He left, as was commanded.
"I was quite impressed with your actions. Risky, oh ho, incredibly so. But, we need more concrete risk like that," Membrane said as he picked his head up from his desk to eye the young man. "I see a lot of you in myself."
"Sir?"
"I'm hearing a lot of men are after you. To join them, I mean. Be part of their team, but I understand you're not interested?"
"I'm more of a…loner." Dib cleared his throat.
"A young man like you has potential," the larger man rose from his desk, adjusting his goggles before placing his hands upon his back and rounding the desk corner. "I could use a man like you at my side."
"As a, what, sir?"
Membrane leaned against the front of the desk, eyeing Dib carefully. "A Right-Hand Man. Someone to assist me, address letters for me. What do you say?" He offered his hand to the other man to shake.
Laurent had said that honor was everything. He would be dishonoring his commander, he would dishonor himself by passing up this opportunity. Although, Dib had a taste of the battlefield. It was something he wanted more of, he naturally led those men; he sampled power and was accepted while doing it. That was all Dib could have asked for. He would lose all of that by being at this man's side. But, by denying the role, he would do the one thing he vowed he wouldn't.
"I won't throw away my shot," he said with a smile, and accepted the general's hand.