Eh, again, I struggle with battle scenes. But, I think I did okay, overall. Definitely more Zim-centric. I don't know how you are going to feel about how I approached The Tallest. But, I'm certain you'll tell me in your reviews, hah. I also like the way I molded Ida the Lab Aid. Yes, more serious Purple, but he's an Irken on a Mission!

How will Zim really feel about all of the praise Dib will receive for all of his hard work? Who are Zim's maternal and paternal life givers? All life starts from somewhere. So, where did Zim's?

Stay tuned! Please leave your wonderful reviews!

Chapter 12- History Has its Eyes on You/The Battle of Yorktown/What Comes Next?

Tallest Purple hovered down the corridor towards the basement archives. He tapped his claw against several files. Getting Red involved was too much of a stretch, as he already suffered migraines from Zim and his numerous, dangerous incidents. He decided to take matters into his own hands, finding Zim's file and skimmed through it.

All was silent for the occasional pipe that dripped. Lights flickered; one would assume the Massive would be up-to-date on all technological placements on the ship. But, he assumed some took further precedence than others. Even so, he had enough light to begin his own semi-mission. All of Zim's training schedules, his infractions. To those who didn't understand, Zim was an annoyance, a menace, a pest they could do without and perhaps that's what Red and Purple believed, as well. They went with the flow without further examination.

There were too many Irkens to give attention to one specific, or give them special attention at all. Each Irken was assigned and treated the same. However, the more Purple thought about it, perhaps Zim had a different purpose in life than an Invader. It was possible to have been wrongly assigned to Invader, when he should have been in training for another role.

He ranked high in aggression and his testosterone levels were extraordinary; so he figured out that was why he was automatically assigned as one. He ranked nearly as high in intelligence, which would have placed in as a diplomat, or part of the Irken Intelligence Unit, or another Irken position of high rating. The intelligence levels caught him off guard. Then again, when one was raised to think they were less than, an individual had a tendency to believe it. It wasn't that Zim was born defective. No child is born defective, nor are they born bad. It's how they were raised. Purple closed his eyes. There was negligence on Zim's behalf and he wondered how many others there were.

Red would never see it that way. His choice was to rid of the defects and make room for those who could wield a gun and serve their planet. He and his partner were two terrible extremes in that regard. He laughed a lot off, and he tried to rectify many of the issues. He would have to handle this delicate matter privately, because now Zim was a threat to Irk.

He closed the file and took it with him, his brain scoured the possibilities of what Zim was meant to be. He was repressed in his functionality, hence the explanation for the explosive episodes of haywire. Maybe if he understood the origins of the Irken's DNA samples, that would give better explanation.

It wasn't that Irkens mated. Maybe a long time ago that was an option, but since their own technology advanced, the Irkens were made by others providing DNA samples selected at random. Zim's PAK would retain all of his biological information, as everything was infused in the nifty device behind their backs. He opened the file again as he ascended to the floor above where he heard the bubbling of serums and antidotes, looking through to see if there was another clue to this puzzle. When this was all over, he was figuring out a way to simplify the system.

"My Tallest!" A lab assistant squeaked, dropping to her knees in a bow. Snapping out of his zone, Purple blinked and glanced down at the trembling lab assistant.

"Why are you on the floor, Lab Aid?" he asked, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

"I've been told to drop on my knees in your presence, sir!"

Purple blinked at that, slightly uncomfortable with this female on her knees. "….Well, get up."

She picked her head up, curled antennae bobbing with her head as her pink eyes made contact with him. "My Tallest?"

"No need to be on your knees in my presence. What's your name?"

"Ida, My Tallest," she replied, picking herself back up onto her feet. "What brings you to my sector, sire?'

"I need some information ran on a recently exiled invader."

"Would that be Invader Zim, sir?"

Purple sighed. "News travels fast, doesn't it?"

"When it is of the invader who nearly perished the Mother Planet? Indeed."

Purple sighed and motioned over towards the computer, waving the file to get her attention. "All Invader files have been transported to the ship. I need DNA information on Zim. Tallest Red is not to know of this, do we have an understanding?"

Ida quirked a neatly sculpted brow, adjusting the belt at her waist before nodding to confirm and proceeded to type away into the computer. Her fingers hastily scanned the keyboard.

"I would hate to have to travel back to Irk for this. I hope that we have something in the database here. Red will know something is amiss if we have to turn back around."

"I don't feel that'll be necessary," Ida replied, her eyes glancing between him and the screen as her fingers conducted the information symphony. "I do believe I have what you're looking for, sire."

Purple tilted the bubble screen towards his face, seeing Zim's image and along with the itemized details provided in the file itself. If he could find out whose DNA had created Zim, it would answer many questions and he would know how to move forward from that point onward. His eyes widened as they landed on the pair of names.

The sky was cloudy with gunpowder and the smoke that followed gunfire. Bullets flew, peppering the sky. Membrane's troop had been at it for months on end and heading for the end of their provisions. Water was dirty, scarce, and several perished from infected wounds, loss of blood, delirium and starvation.

Being the men of science they were, Membrane and son took to as many of their wounded as they were able, while Dib led his men. Dib wanted to tend to what required his attention first, and as his wife put it, now it was of the Lord's will to save them, as there was only so much he could do. Initially, he took it as a measure of comfort since Dib had a mind of guilt towards the welfare of the others. There was little he could do to protect them; especially when the ammunition was scarce. Porter's funding was running short.

"Maybe we can go and steal some cannons," Laurent attempted to joke with a half-lopped smile, to which Dib frowned and leaned his head down to think.

"There's got to be something we can do," Dib uttered, tossing a bloodied towel down. He needed to stay alive for Amelia's sake, to see the arrival of their child. She wrote to him frequently on her progress.

"The further you stress out over it, the less likely you'll come up with something good," Laurent replied. He fanned himself, the deep August heat was beginning to seep into all of them. Dib rolled his sleeve up, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"That's not helping Laurent," he whispered.

Laurent proceeded to tread carefully upon his suggestion. Each man had a say in the matter, ideas flew around like leaves in the breeze. But, there was one mouth that rambled more than the others. "This is a long shot, but, Zim might have an idea?"

That felt like a stab to the chest. "Fuck Zim. We're not asking Zim for help," Dib sharply replied.

Laurent placed his hands upon his hips. "Well, the good sitting here being frustrated is helping. The war is closing in on us, and men are dying. Something is better than nothing."

"I can't believe you're suggesting this right now." Dib straightened as he threw his hands upward into the air.

"I can't believe you're putting lives at stake because you're holding a grudge against your future brother-in-law."

Dib cringed at that. Laurent was right. While Dib had ideas, they fell short and incomplete. He had managed to get them this far, and history will have it that Dib failed the troops he had fought so hard to obtain. Dib and Laurent eyed one another.

When the gunfire settled to replenish for another day, Dib walked across the grounds to Zim's tent. He had to swallow this pride for this moment. Zim was known for his ideas, no matter how insane they seemed at the time. They managed to work out in the end. That's what worried Dib. The further he studied Zim, the more he realized what a crazed mastermind he actually was.

Zim had blossomed from a nearly five foot crazed megalomaniac who sought power. He exploded with every detail, was the very essence of cannon fire. Now, he was more even tempered and calculated. It unsettled Dib to his very bones. Part of him thought to walk away as he placed his hand at the edge of the tent's fabric. The other part actually wanted to hear where his mind roamed.

"We need to talk."

Zim glanced between Madge and Skoodge. He was in the middle of writing Gaz a letter in regards to their daughter, how she was beginning to teethe and she would soon need another pair of lenses as she was finding ways to remove them on her own. Zim grinned with pride as he read that. She was just as smart as any other Irken smeet and would see about implanting a PAK on her to help her motor skills along.

"Talk about what? Leave Zim be."

"Zim."

"Oh, alright, fine. Skoodge, Madge, take Gir for a walk."

"I can't believe you brought your "dog" with you."

"I can't believe you smell so horrendous. Now come in where we may talk privately." Dib entered the tent, Laurent hung nearby to hear of the result from their discussion. Zim looked up at Dib, fingers touching one another as one long leg crossed over the other. Dib and Zim nearly met at the same height now.

"Zim. I hear you have some ideas on how to end this once and for all?" Dib stuffed his hands into his pockets. "What are you getting at by this? What is your angle?"

"As if I will tell you. But, what I will divulge to you so that one day our children may read how Zim saved them all. One step closer to your impending failure, Dib-Scum."

Dib rolled his eyes at the taunt, knowing the alien was just trying to get a rise out of him.

Zim waved a hand over his desk, setting his letter and inkwell to the side. Dib didn't need to know his private thoughts. As Dib neared to see the decorated map with inkblots and lines. "The plan is this: It involves separating our friends. Skoodge and Laurent will go down to the South. There's a decently structured base there." He took a moment to ponder, pointing to the circled "X" to show. "Madge is the best spy we've got, so he should go with our pitiful muscle, Blake, further north."

If there were any possible way for Dib to cringe further, he would have. Zim was onto something. When he did become so crafty in his design? He remembered when he returned to camp, he had a private discussion with his father who offered him some sagely advice. History would have their eyes on him and all that he did. If Dib slipped in his plans, or motioned the wrong ones, it would be permanently marked. He was warned to be cautious, and that being the hero wasn't everything. Making the right move was.

Dib wondered why he couldn't have both. Zim was the last person he wanted to go to, yet the plan was a good one. He didn't like the idea of splitting them up. But Blake was better than Laurent at spying and Laurent was better with the fire arms. Laurent couldn't hold a poker face to save his life. Dib pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but, it's worth a shot."

"This should have been the way your mind thought a long time ago. How you've gotten all of the attention thus far is beyond me," Zim spat. Dib glared at him before withdrawing from the tent to give the word.

Therefore, it was set in history books thereafter that Laurent and Skoodge headed for the base in the South. Blake and Madge headed for the base up north to retrieve whatever information they could, judging the right moment on when to strike. Blake and Madge worked undercover as tailors to shoot the breeze and mend frayed uniforms. Madge sent back encrypted memos to Zim, who relayed it back to Membrane, who took Porter with him to the Bay.

All of the players were in position with very little ammunition. Nearing the middle of September is when the pieces were played as they were meant to. Madge listened into private conversations, his ear sharper than Blake's, who continued to think he was doing well on his own. The Irkens were more superior in this regard. Madge found himself frequently shaking his head at Blake's ignorance, telling himself he deserved a medal for this endeavor.

Come near September 23rd, Madge gave Zim the word, who forwarded the information to Dib, who hurried to General Membrane and Porter, who initiated battle in the dead of the night. They moved undercover, silent, and stealthy. The fighting lasted for a week before the enemy gave in and waved a white flag. Bodies surrounded the men with the flag. If anyone could capture that image, it would show the depths individuals were willing to go for the sake of war.

Zim emerged from his communication port he shared with Madge, seeing the young man wave the flag for all to see. As the guns were lowered, he knew then the war had been won. Zim was briskly taking notes for his personal self and Membrane raised his gun in victory. America was her own standalone nation. Whether Zim realized it or not, he was part of something incredible.

The leaders met, began settling the score and terms of agreement. The men began to regress and retreat. The wounded were tended to, and Zim bellowed out victoriously, "Zim's plan worked!"

Gir followed suit with a small flag of his own, dressed as Zim's faithful dog and waving a flag that read, "I love Earth" on it in bold black paint. He squeaked and raised it high in the air.

"Zim's plan?" The men looked at him, perplexed.

"I gave the Dib the ideas that led to this victory. Bow down, praise Zim!"

"Is this true, son?" Membrane asked as he came back with Dib and Porter.

Dib nodded slowly, solemnly. When the dust had settled, he had every intention of telling the truth.

"Well, good job on delegating!" Membrane clapped Dib on the back, nodding his head to Zim and walked away. Zim's jaw slightly fell, wondering what had just transpired.

"No praise for Zim?" he asked, sounding as dejected as he felt. Dib almost felt bad for him. But at least the alien wouldn't be in the history books as anything more than he was. A communications soldier who assisted in the war, as was Dib. The only person who would be endlessly praised was General Membrane for being the leader. That was just the way of it.

As defeated as Zim felt, he rationalized with himself that in the Irken history books, a different song would be sang. Let the humans have their view, when the Earth would be defeated, this battle would matter very little. America may have won her independence, but the Earth had no idea what was coming to it. Happy with this thought, Zim proceeded to arrange to go back to Gaz and Zinovia and make a home with his mate and daughter. The war was over, there was nothing left here.

Dib stretched his arms over his head. The war was over, he could return to Amelia and arrive in time to see his child born and live up to his promises of being a good husband and father. Sadly, he would have to see more of Zim and hear about how he won them the war, but that was alright, too. He was able to keep a closer eye on his enemy and see what he had in store. Now that the war was over, he had all the time in the world to put a stop to Zim.

In fact, when he returned home. He heard the cries of new life that didn't belong to Zinovia. No, those were the cries of his newborn. Dib dropped his bags at the gate and flew inside the doors.

Tallest Purple left the Ida the Aid with a smile, a wave, and a promise to make today up to her. He headed back for the control room where he was certain to find Red. He lounged at his chair, slurping on a crushed iced Irken beverage and sighed. "I think we need to talk."

"I was wondering where you've been all day," Red commented after hearing his partner's voice.

"I was busy doing what you should have been doing. Finding a way to stop Zim." He tossed the files upon Red's stomach.

"You're still worried about him? He'll wind up killing himself in one of these "wars" he keeps rambling on about. Give him time, he'll blow himself up. He's an idiot."

"Only because we left him to be that way. Did you know he has Tallest blood in him?" When he heard the series of coughs behind him, Purple knew he had his attention. "Didn't think so. I did a little research down in the basement with a lovely research aid named Ida."

"Congratulations, you've found someone. Didn't know when it would happen, to be honest." He pressed a button and confetti flew down on him.

"Red!" Purple barked, blowing confetti from his eyelid. "Zim is more of a danger than you realize. He is the product of two powerful individuals."

Red held up one claw in protest. "If…If he has Tallest blood in him, then how is he so short?"

"Zim was improperly assigned. This being the case, he underwent a great Repression. He was never worked fully to his abilities in the academy. This explains why he is easily combustible and a rogue invader. I'm surprised he hasn't already imploded." Purple shook his head. "We've got a situation here, Red."

"Zim is growing because he is finally uncovering who he is. These life experiences he's having must have triggered the stimulus inside of him. An ability to reign command, the taste of war. It's happening, Red. He won't be small forever…the taller he grows, the higher his intelligence climbs. I'll need Madge to gather more information."

"What about Impending Doom 1? Why didn't this "stimulus" trigger then?" Red challenged.

"I don't have an answer for that." Purple's shoulder's dropped.

"I have a weapon for when the time comes, anyway." Red quickly replied. "Apparently, it seems, someone has to think ahead rather than play with the lab aids in the basement."

Purple quirked a brow. "A weapon? What kind of weapon?"

"Someone who has had a hankering to get their revenge on Zim."

"I'm sure there's a line out the door."

"Oh, the highest ranker there will be the one to do it. By the way, Purple…which Tallest gave Zim their DNA?"

Purple stared hard at his friend, uncertain if he was prepared for the response. "I think you should open the folder and see for yourself."