Somewhere in space...
Invader Flobee stares at the screen with a frown. He's two minutes into his shift and already having a bad day.
"This can't be right…"
He scrolls through pages of code and search requests from the night before. "I-I didn't run these."
Invader Kim passes by the cubicle, slouched and tired. Invader Flobee waves him down.
"Hey - is your system acting up today?"
Invader Kim arches a brow and glances at Flobee's computer screen, disinterested. "No. Is yours?"
Flobee purses his lips. "I…I think so? I logged in and a ton of data requests came through - but I didn't submit any of them."
Invader Kim sighs heavily. "Not my department." He starts skulking off, muttering as he goes. "Most logs have coordinates though - see if someone's code got mixed with yours."
"O-Okay." Flobee watches him vanish around the corridor and looks back to his monitor. He sits down and begins to sort through the requests - or, he tries to.
"There are hundreds," he whispers to himself. "What on Irk…"
He manages to locate a string of network identifications on the most recent report. He frowns.
"...That's not ours. Is it?"
He pulls up another screen and copies the numbers over. His frown deepens as an unknown planet location appears.
EARTH.
He stares for a moment. Something about it is familiar. With a shallow breath, he pokes around the system some more, and almost an hour later, a name he wishes he didn't recognize pops on the screen.
INVADER ZIM.
LAST ASSIGNED LOCATION: PLANET "EARTH."
STATUS: DEACTIVATED. CONTACT RESTRICTED. DNI.
Panic overcomes the small Invader. He watches his coworkers continue on with their day; chatting about nothing, falling asleep on their keyboards, recounting the latest rerun of conquests. Everyone is…normal.
He looks back at his computer and feels the discomfort rise. Should he say something? How did Zim steal his code? How is he even still alive?
He debates his options and falls behind on his actual work. By the time he's reached a decision, most of the room is empty.
"I'm not taking the blame for…whatever this is," he mutters. He grabs his tablet and quickly downloads the largest file. The report loads on the smaller screen - a genetic study of some kind.
Burdened by his incessant martyrdom, Invader Flobee sighs dramatically and shuffles towards the long, winding hall. The device feels like it's getting heavier with every step.
"Why do things always happen to me ?" he gripes. He reaches the end and stands in front of the gaudy, ominous doors. It takes a substantial effort to raise his small fist and knock.
He flinches - but nothing happens. He knocks again.
Nothing.
He groans and smushes his head against the tablet. " Why me …?"
He wants to run away and pretend he never saw any of this, but he knows he can't risk being implicated in whatever horror the disgraced Invader is up to.
He sighs and pushes open the door to see Tallest Red and Tallest Purple slumped on the couch, laughing at the TV while shoveling snacks into their mouths.
The room is dimly lit and covered in wrappers and empty soda cups. Invader Flobee carefully steps around the garbage and clutches the tablet in his small hands.
"Uh, my Tallest, sirs?"
They don't notice him until he clears his throat and speaks up.
"S-Sirs?"
Tallest Red's face drops into a deep, irritated frown. He grabs the remote and pauses the footage of their last conquest. The image of a planet exploding wavers on the screen.
"Ugh, haven't you heard of knocking?" he grumbles.
Invader Flobee hugs the tablet to his chest.
"I-I did knock, my Tallest–"
"What he means," Tallest Purple chimes, "is that if you have to knock to get into a room, you don't belong in the room."
"Yeah, it's rude."
"Very rude."
Invader Flobee swallows nervously. He lifts the device from his torso.
"I'm sorry, my Tallest, but - it's important. I have a security concern regarding the intergalactic research database–"
Tallest Purple groans. "Use smaller words, uh…whoever you are."
"Invader Flobee, sir."
Tallest Purple sticks out his tongue in disgust. "That's not a very good name. You should get a new one."
But you assigned it to me –
He shakes off the thought and clears his throat again.
"I'll look into it, sir. But I think you should see this report–"
"Did they add the pictures yet?" Purple asks, leaning back against the couch. He waves his arm in an irritated motion. "I told those guys the reports are too…"
"Lame?" Red offers, popping open another box of donuts.
"Yeah, lame! I don't wanna waste time looking at numbers…and stuff."
"Sirs," the Invader dares to speak a little louder. "It's Zim."
Purple immediately gags. "Aww, that guy's not dead yet?"
"Boo!" Red throws a donut at the small Invader, who flinches as it bounces off his nose. He quickly wipes the powder from his face and steps toward the couch.
"H-He used another Invader's clearance to access one of the Irken servers - my clearance."
"Your clearance?" Red arches a brow and tilts his head. "Well why'd you give it to him?"
"Yeah," Purple adds. "That sounds illegal."
"Very illegal–"
Invader Flobee suppresses the urge to scream.
"T-This is one of the reports he uploaded using confidential data," he stutters, thrusting the device in front of them. "See?"
Red chokes on his donut and Purple spits out his drink, slathering the Invader's tablet and hands with sticky, dark soda. The Invader grimaces but keeps still.
After a long pause, Purple wipes his mouth.
"That," he says, "is the ugliest drawing I've ever seen!"
Red smacks the box of donuts to the floor and the powdered dessert rolls across the room.
"Yeah! Whoever drew that - straight to jail."
"To jail!" Purple yells. "Honestly, you'd think one of you would learn how to do art by now. I-I mean, what do we even pay you for?!"
Invader Flobee stammers. "Y-you don't pay us, sir."
Red jabs his finger toward the screen. "And that's why!"
"But sirs–"
"Thanks for interrupting our very important marathon, Invader Floopy-"
"My Tallest, it's–"
"Now run along and go learn how to, I don't know, not be…" Purple gestures vaguely at the Invader, "...this."
"And get more donuts while you're at it!" Red snaps his fingers. "You made the other ones taste bad when you brought up that loser we got rid of."
Invader Flobee looks like he might cry, but he sniffs back the frustrated tears, offers a weak bow, and scurries from the room. The TV plays and explosions resume, along with high, cackling laughter and loud slurping.
The Invader walks across the dark hallway, feeling defeated. An idea sprouts in his head. He looks back at the closed door and sets his shoulders straight.
"If they don't want to listen," he mutters, "I know someone who will."
In the lower levels of the Massive, Invader Flobee stands in front of yet another door - but this one fills him with a different kind of fear.
The window clicks open before he can even raise his fist to knock. Glowing purple eyes meet him, and he steps back in fright.
"Speak."
The female's voice drives a pit into his stomach. He swallows and clears his throat.
"I-I have something to report," he starts weakly. "The Tallest…would not listen."
She blinks, and the window shuts. A moment later, the door unlocks and creaks open. The female Irken stands aside, tall and lanky, dressed in scaled black leather. Her thin, cybernetic tail curls inches from the floor.
"Make it quick," she says. He hurries into the room and flinches when the door closes behind them.
"I-I, uh…"
Her gaze narrows. She crosses her arms, her long talons clicking impatiently.
"I received a security alert - a deactivated Invader used my code to access restricted material."
Her chin lifts slightly.
"He, um - it looks like he was running some sort of genetic report. He uploaded a lot of information to the portal and was attempting to cross-reference the markers - I think, at least."
She eyes the tablet in his hands and he quickly hands it over.
"Does this disgraced Invader have a name?" she asks, scanning the report.
Invader Flobee nods. "Y-Yes. Invader Zim. He was exiled years ago… I'm not sure how he obtained my clearance code."
Her expression shifts. "...Invader Zim?"
"Y-Yes."
She returns her gaze to the screen and grows more and more troubled. Invader Flobee opens his mouth to clarify the number of data requests he received, but something shifts in the dark corner of the room and startles him. He whirls around to see a large shadow seated by the monitoring system. His pulse races and he takes a step back.
"S-Sir," he bows awkwardly. "I - My apologies - I was not aware you were–"
A deep, grated voice cuts him off. "This information seems inconsequential."
Invader Flobee whimpers meekly and glances at the female. The purple glow rises to meet the shadow's hidden gaze.
"...You may actually want to see this, sir." She pauses and scrolls through the data. "Zim has either made a fortunate mistake or grown competent in his absence."
The shadow breathes deep, and Invader Flobee feels the rumble in his boots.
"Who is he?"
"A Defective, sir."
He laughs. Flobee steps closer to the female.
"Is that supposed to mean something?"
She clears her throat and glares at Flobee, who takes the hint and inches further away from her.
"He's not our kind of Defective, sir. He's…well…" She pauses and her lip tugs over sharp, white teeth. "Do you recall Overload Day? Both of them?"
The shadow grumbles. "Unfortunately."
"Right. He's that kind of Defective - responsible for multiple, planet-wide catastrophes, including the failure of Operation Impending Doom One and the death of Tallest Miyuki and Tallest Spork."
She sighs and taps the screen with her claw.
"I'd have to analyze the submissions in their entirety, but he's genetically modifying alien life to the point where it doesn't register in the galactic database. From these notes alone, it appears to have dangerous potential." She straightens her shoulders and stares into the darkness. "We cannot allow him to possess something of this nature."
Silence fills the room. Invader Flobee shifts nervously. The shadow moves, rising from his seat and stepping into the dim, blue glow of the machinery lining the ceiling. Invader Flobee averts his gaze as the towering alien - the Hunter - approaches.
"An exiled, disgraced Invader with an extensive history of galactic crimes, including the murder of two Tallest leaders…" His voice rattles the small Invader's bones. "I believe this requires a more…tactical approach."
The female blinks in understanding. She pushes Flobee aside and immediately sits down at the control panel.
"You," she snaps. "Does your report contain planet coordinates?"
He quickly nods and points. "Y-Yes. They're saved in the tab on the left."
She locates the information and begins typing. The computer beeps.
"The Orion-Cygnus arm of the Milky Way," she mutters. She glances back at the Hunter and gestures to the galactic map. "I don't believe we've been this far before, sir."
"No." He steps closer and leans toward the monitor. "How primitive… The Tallest did not take his banishment lightly."
"I believe execution would have been more appropriate, sir."
He hums. "Yes, well, perhaps this Defective will finally be of use." He straightens, and Invader Flobee shrinks back in his shadow. "Can you access their surveillance systems?"
Her claws move quickly across the panel. "...Not from here, sir, but I should have no problem obtaining satellite images once we're within range."
"Run a full report and include atmospheric data. Cloaking would be preferable, but show me the most probable military response simulations in case of interference. And I want to see every structure above and below ground within 12 clicks of his base."
"Sir."
The Hunter watches the screen with a distant hunger. "I'll prepare the ship. Let me know when you've finished the calculations." He turns from the control panel, hands clasped behind his back, and walks towards the dark hall on the other end of the room. The doors slide open with a sharp hiss. "And Rapth…" He pauses and glances over his shoulder. "...No loose ends."
Her hands slow to a stop, hovering over the keys.
"Understood."
He steps across the threshold. The doors seal shut.
Invader Flobee swallows and wipes the sweat from his brow.
"C-Can you delete his search history from my code?" he stammers. "I can see the matter is…being handled. I would like to return to my work."
She eyes him with an unreadable look. "Of course."
Tension settles within the silence. Invader Flobee glances around, panicked. "I-I'm not in trouble now, am I?"
"No," she says calmly. She pushes out of her seat and offers him a thin smile. "Trouble only suffers the living."
He doesn't get the chance to respond before her talons flash across his vision. His body topples to the floor in a gush of bright pink blood, followed by the dull thump of his head rolling away.
She wipes the gore on her uniform and settles back into her chair. The computer blinks as copies of the genetic report load. She leans in, studying the double helix and columns of markers.
"You've been in the dark for quite some time, Zim," she mutters. "Let's see what you're hiding."