#irken architecture

[zootzar]

"..this is what you wanted to show me?"

"Superior to your filthy earthan oceans, isn't it?"

"..shut up zim."

[invadertem]

HUB PLANET: IRK

(Not my art, I just like how it looks so I didn’t bother to do my own, made by this person)

Irk is a solitary celestial body, devoid of neighboring planets, and was historically held in place by the balancing influence of two opposing gravitational forces, each vying to draw it closer to their solar system. However, in its current configuration, Irk's position is maintained by a network of artificial gravitational thrusters.

PRE-TECH ERA OF IRK:

The Pre-Tech Era of Irk signifies the period preceding its transformation into a highly technologically advanced entity. While there are no extant photographic records depicting Irk in this earlier state, there exists documentation pertaining to the planet's geography, indigenous wildlife, and plant life. It's important to note that during the Pre-Tech Era, Irk's planetary dynamics differed significantly from its current state.

The most important feature of the Pre-Tech Era was Irk's leisurely rotation, resulting in an extended day-night cycle. Irk experienced 24-month cycles instead of the present-day 12-month format. This elongated rotational period impacted the planet's climatic conditions and the life forms that inhabited it. Unlike the contemporary Irk, the Pre-Tech Irk closely resembled other terrestrial planets in terms of its ecosystems.

What sets the Irk apart from its other terrestrial planets even to current day is its unique energy source. Instead of relying on solar radiation, the flora and fauna of this period thrived on the planet's internal heat. Consequently, plant life on Pre-Tech Irk did not necessitate exposure to sunlight, resulting in a characteristic purple hue instead of the familiar green. Notably, Irk remained perpetually enshrouded in darkness, given its considerable distance from a star. However, the planet's core temperature remained substantially high, providing the necessary conditions for sustaining life.

The climate on Pre-Tech Irk exhibited variations, including intermittent cooling phases within the 24-month cycle, during which the planet experienced extremely frigid conditions. To adapt to these extreme temperature fluctuations, the indigenous creatures of Irk developed remarkable abilities to regulate their body temperatures.

Furthermore, the Pre-Tech Era featured diverse biomes across the planet, contributing to a rich and complex ecosystem. Regrettably, our knowledge of this era remains limited, and further exploration is required to unravel the full extent of this intriguing period in Irk's history.

This period exerted a profound influence on the early development of the Irken race. To adapt to the perpetual darkness of Irk, Irkens underwent evolutionary changes. They developed enlarged eyes to enhance their vision in the absence of daylight. Additionally, their distinctive claws on both hands and feet evolved to facilitate movement and grip in the rocky terrain.

During the Pre-Tech era, Irkens primarily sported tails, which served multiple purposes. These tails not only aided in maintaining balance but also provided warmth during the colder months. Furthermore, communication among Pre-Tech era Irkens primarily comprised a vocal language consisting of chirps, trills, and hisses. However, for more information see the “Irken anatomy and traits” sector.

MODERN IRK ERA:

Irk in its current state is a meticulously organized, hollow celestial body comprised of distinct layers, each serving a crucial role. This architectural design has been engineered to cater to the diverse needs of the Irken Empire while ensuring efficiency and advanced capabilities.

The first layer, known as the 'Outer Ring,' encircles the planet and serves as an expansive artificial extension. Its purpose is to provide additional space beyond what the planet's natural surface can accommodate. The Outer Ring remains in stable orbit thanks to Irk's gravitational forces.

The second layer, referred to as the 'Atmospherical Shield,' encompasses the planet, functioning as both a protective barrier and a symbol of Irken Empire. This shield not only safeguards the planet but also prominently displays the emblem of the Irken Empire. Furthermore, it emits artificial lighting, ensuring a perpetual illumination.

Upon the Outer Ring, the third layer, 'The Surface,' is accessible through teleportation technology. This surface is home to towering cities teeming with industrious Irkens, encompassing both the workforce and civilian populations. Civilian Irkens are responsible for the production of various resources, including weaponry, medical supplies, and official documentation.

The final layer delves into the innards of the planet. Irk's hollow interior offers an array of subsections, with notable areas such as 'The Smeetery' at its core and the 'Training Grounds' just beneath the surface. This comprehensive structure has been meticulously designed to meet the needs of the Irken Empire, ensuring it operates from a robust and technologically advanced home base.

Remarkably, the process of hollowing the planet has accelerated its rotation, leading to a transition from a 24-month period to a 12-month period. In fact, Irk's rotation now synchronizes with that of Earth. Notably, the previous ecological diversity, or biomes, no longer exist on Irk, as it has been transformed into an expansive cityscape.

Irk serves as the central hub and operational headquarters of the formidable Irken Empire, boasting a sizeable and highly advanced Irken populace.

Irk employs a sophisticated dating system structured around 12 distinct months: Lunaris, Celestria, Nebulon, Quasar, Zephyria, Astracon, Solara, Galaxis, Interstella, Orbulon, Novaris, and Cosmara. Complementing this, the society adheres to a unique seven-day week, which aptly reflects their culture's vertical hierarchy: Lowgrav, Stiltday, Leviturn, Skyspan, Vertix, Atmoshif, and Apexday.

Years in this system are demarcated from the inception of the Irken Empire and consist of a numerical value, ranging up to 10,000, followed by a letter. This letter signifies how many times this 10,000-year mark has been reached. Presently, the dating system designates the year as 2030x. This comprehensive calendar system reflects the historical significance and innovative nature of the Irken civilization.

[ribbondee]

Invader Zim: Irk a really freaking long time ago

These are my own personal headcanons about what Irk and its inhabitants were like waaaaaaaaaay before all the cool technology, aka Irk’s Prehistoric days and stuff. It’s all under the cut, so as to not clog up people’s feeds. 

For starters, before the planet was industrialized it was once lush, full of nature such as jungles and creatures that are sadly now extinct. As for the planet’s denizens themselves, they were always an aggressive and warmongering race, with different tribes constantly fighting over land and power. These tribes wore different varieties of face paint, antennae piercings and such, and even back then they put value on an individual’s height for some reason (and of course, they elected whomever was tallest to be the… well, you know). Each tribe spoke a different dialect of Irken language, which ofc made things very confusing. This was all before their bodies required PAKs, and they made babies normally. The architecture varied from tribe to tribe; some lived in villages, some traveled around, some built things such as temples to bury deceased Tallests. But they all had this in common: they were all assholes that couldn’t leave each other alone. 

They used weapons such as spears, stuff for archery, catapults, etc. 

Before SIR units, there was the Peeg. A hog-like creature that was trained to follow orders and essentially serve as both a battle beast and pack mule. Many tribes used them for travel or for war, whatever situation came first. 

…and then there’s Zam, Zim’s ancient as frick ancestor. As it turns out, destruction is what actually runs in his veins. In fact, it’s highly likely his antics are what brought about the end of the planet’s largest Tribe’s territory control (and of the tribe themselves). 

Now the reason why Irk’s history is unknown in the present day is because… Irkens don’t care. Millions of years of rich Irken history were all forgotten because all the race cares about is moving forward and conquering everything. 

In spite of the planet being industrialized in the present day, if one actually does some literal digging, ruins can be found underneath the cities such as the remnants of the burial temples. Said temples are covered with Egyptian-esque murals and stuff. 

…and that’s that! Hope y'all enjoyed this silly little thing!!!

[edgy-ella]

Here I am yet again with another Invader Zim theory

(Pray I do not make another)

MatPat’s old film theory on the series popped up in my recommended feed on YouTube today, and it got me thinking about something. In case you haven’t seen it, his theory was that Professor Membrane (and by extension, Dib and Gaz) was an alien, an Irken specifically, who had been banished to Earth by the Tallest in order to stop him from usurping their position.

It’s an old and silly theory that can be debunked in four simple words: “where’s Membrane’s PAK?” But like I said, it got me thinking. Instead of focusing on Irken/alien material on Earth, let’s focus on elements of human culture on the other planets we see in the show.

Isn’t it a bit odd how much distinctly human food is seen throughout the series, presumably made and consumed by alien species located several hundred light years away from Earth? Nachos, sandwiches, doughnuts, etc. They all look just like their Earth equivalents too, so presumably they’re one and the same and made with the same ingredients. So by extension, things like sugar, corn, cheese, and lettuce must also exist on Irk.

That wouldn’t be so weird—in fact, you could argue that it’s the show’s way of simplifying alien food into something more recognizable for a human audience and easier understood by younger viewers—except that we do see tons of distinctly alien foods in the show. Zim is seen eating a fun dip-like snack in a couple of episodes, and tons of unique alien foods are both seen and named in the episode where Zim gets sent back to Foodcourtia. So this isn’t just the show using visual language to instantly convey the idea of food to the viewer, there is a clear distinction between “human” food and “alien” food. Hell, there’s even something called a Vort Dog, which looks like a small hot dog with a band around the rim, so there’s even alien variations of human food.

But that’s not all! Shloogorgh's Flavor Monster, the restaurant place Zim is sentenced to work at, looks and functions exactly like a fast food place on Earth. An establishment that caters to multiple, distinct alien races, all with their own needs and cultures, and yet it still has the same old booths, cash registers, and happy mascot costumes you’d find at a MacMeaties or Krazy Taco. The kitchen itself is more automated than their Earth equivalents, but the point stands.

Another thing that stands out is how language is used by the other aliens in the show. Zim presumably has a universal translator built into his PAK (we hear what is likely his untranslated speech at the start of the Mysterious Mysteries episode) and given their military conquest, Irken is presumably the dominant language used by the other alien species in the show. But we see Dib interact with multiple other aliens in the show, all of whom would have no reason to know an Earth language like English. This only comes up a couple times in the show, like with the Plookesians, but is a lot more prevalent in the comics where Dib goes out into space more often. And he does interact with a lot of different species, many of which don’t seem to be under the control of the Irken empire. Dib is never shown to know how to speak Irken (unless Ten Minutes to Doom is canon and he retained that knowledge from when Zim’s PAK was stuck to him), and it’s unlikely that all of the different aliens he talks to would as well. Meaning the only alternative is that they’re all speaking English.

So we see human food, infrastructure, architecture, plumbing, and language scattered throughout the vast reaches of space, both within the Irken Empire and outside of it.

Let’s take that information with some of the stuff that MatPat brought up in his theory.

“I only hope the Irkens just so happen to use the same operating system as me.” Even though this line is meant to be a joke, it really does feel like a smoking gun for a link between human and Irken society and technology. The Irkens did know about Earth, but only as an unspecified mystery planet. Professor Membrane’s continued, staunch denial of aliens is odd considering the literal walking proof right in front of him, not to mention how big of a scientific discovery extraterrestrial life would be. And yeah, some of his technology does resemble the equipment in Zim’s base.

Which brings me to my next point: the Control Brains.

The Control Brains are weird. They have very few appearances in the show and don’t appear at all in the comics, but what little screen time they have tells us everything we need to know about them: they’re giant computers in control of the Irken Empire, responsible for handling everything from Irken reproduction to military affairs to corporal punishment. Their design also implies a connection to PAKs. Make no mistake; the Tallest aren’t in control, these guys are. But they’re machines, they didn’t just come out of nowhere. So who made them?

A lot of this is speculative on my part, I’m sure there’s some decade old interview where Jhonen deconfirms everything I’m about to say. But stick with me here.

I think that the PAKs were made by humans, and that Membrane at least knows about them and the Irkens.

A previous human presence in extraterrestrial territories would explain a lot. It explains why we see so much human food; why the alien restaurants, bathrooms, and prisons look and function so similarly to the ones on Earth, and it explains why everyone in space speaks English. It all originated from Earth. “I only hope the Irkens just so happen to use the same operating system as me,” Irken and human computers are compatible with each other. The Control Brains are giant Irken supercomputers. Ergo, they were likely built on human operating systems as well.

The obvious conclusion here is that they were made by Professor Membrane, but I actually don’t think that’s the case; the Irken Empire has probably been around much longer than Membrane has, no matter how many time warps you throw in. That being said, I think Membrane does know about whatever the origin of all of this was. That’s why he’s so in denial about aliens—he wants to keep his son away from that field of study to keep him safe. He ignores Zim’s plans for world conquest for the same reason Gaz does, “because he’s so bad at it.” Membrane doesn’t see Zim as a threat.

[sysig]

Hm ok what's your favorite or a really cool worlbuilding thing you've done? For any fandom or original or even an unimplemented idea

Hmm well at least in the past decade, my big worldbuilding projects have mostly come down to three-ish stories: Other Side of the Gun, Adventures of Gæilo and Ethon, and Just Desserts

OSG was an Invader ZiM fancomic concept I started around 2013 to justify every single Irken headcanon I ever came up with lol - I never finished it, or even really started it, but I put a lot of time and energy into its roughs back in the day :)

^A stick figure recap of Ch. 1, inspired by - what else - the Vargas stick figure recaps lol

One that you can see over here is all the work I did for my DnD campaign, AGE! (Though its sideblog hasn't been updated in a while haha - the AGE tag over here works just as well) I basically homebrewed a pantheon and had an absolute blast designing all the gods and their forms before they became gods and even things like architectural differences in their churches and the BBEG and his motivations and just ah <3 Such a fun project :D

It also laid the groundwork for things like Pokemon Homestyle, specifically all my papercrafts! You can really see how I leveled up haha

And my latest has been Just Desserts! Even with less time under its belt, it's still pretty expansive, as evidenced by my icon and theme and the backlog lol, and it's the one I have the most AUs of! (Though OSG does come close actually haha) There are still some thorny details I'm trying to iron out, especially to do with the magic system, but all the characters and creatures and the fact that I made my own fighting minigame, ah, pleased! I've never been so happy with a sona before Charm! ♥ From the very beginning it's been so fun to work on and I still want to improve!

[emeraldspiral]

My headcanon is that Irkens use AI to make all their art and their only creative outlets are science and engineering to feed the Irken war machine. That’s why the architectural and interior design of Zim's house are so janky and the art on the walls is meaningless nonsense.

since irkens are technically cyborgs... ... would irken art be considered... AI art?

[oddclan-askblog]

Oddworld:

So this blog has been weaving between life and death for a while. I'm not getting rid of it, I'll actually be more active on here in the days to come since I'll be quiting my irl job this week.

I'm still working on the odd comic with a few major changes. For one, anything to do w/ Lil's tribe will be told through Lil/ Messa. Raaf will still be a part of their tribe but his PoV will be explored later in the story.

I'm still working out where / if Alqa will fit into the comic or be his own thing. Theres an Anon ask in my inbox concerning Alqa and I just want Anon to know I you and I'm working on a response lol.

---

Invader zim:

I've sketched some fan art for the series in the past. I even have four Irken characters I made little refs for. I cant promise anything as expansive as a comic right now for them but I'll def be posting more art and musings of my ant alien ocs in the future. Irkins are all around fun to draw. Same for Zim, Dib, and maybe the Tallests. If I make a comic I'm going to have it focus on my ocs and their journey through Irken culture with Zim and the Tallests being background characters. Most fan work focuses heavily on the MCs and Earth discourse, Irk its self feels like an untapped venue.

---

Halo:

Elites and Spartan fan art, maybe some armor and architecture cons. Cant promise much else for the meantime. Mostly I'll draw Elites because they're awesome.

[short-and-ugly]

gotta remember that irken architecture/machinery is supposed to look and feel organic

[fastenwick]

Smallest Purple's Mission, Part Two

(Starring Purple of course, from @almighty-smallest, and his S.I.R. unit Pop. Featuring mentions of @invader-d1b and @ukagaka-zim's Dib.)

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"Not yet.

"Are we there now?"

"Sir, does it look like we're there?" Pop huffed.

Purple grumbled. "No."

There was silence for a few minutes.

"Are we there yet?"

"Sir, you'll know when we're there," Pop sighed.

"I know I'll know, I'm just bored," Purple said.

Pop shrugged. "Well, I am not meant for entertainment."

"Nah, you're boring as hell," Purple huffed.

"So I am."

"Eh."

There was silence for a while again.

"You can talk if you'd like," Pop said.

"I don't have anything to talk about, I guess," Purple said with a shrug. "I already told you what you missed on the Massive."

"Hm… well what about the past few days? Anything I missed?" Pop asked.

"Uh. I talked with a Dib?" Purple said.

"Oh, D1b?"

"No, different Dib. Younger one, one of the multiverse weirdos," Purple explained.

"Ah," Pop said with a nod.

Purple shrugged. "Eh, he's a good kid though."

"Hm."

"Aaaaand I'm bored again," Purple groaned.

"I'm sorry, sir," Pop said.

Purple's antennas went limp on the back of his head. "Too bad I don't have a signal out here."

"A shame."

More time passed, Purple talked about random stuff and Pop just listened. After a few hours, Purple grew quiet and dozed off, setting an alert in his PAK to wake him up when they got close to their destination.

Pop kept silent, waiting patiently. He would often spend long chunks of time dormant like this, he preferred it.

Eventually, Purple's PAK woke him up. The Irken opened his eyes and straightened up in the chair.

Pop poked his head up from behind Purple.

"We're here," Purple said simply, looking outside of the ship.

Just outside the ship was a mini artificial planet, with a large building taking up about half of the space. The building was white and pink, with architecture that looked similar to layers of white and pink icing. There were many ships parked, and a bright neon sign that said "Chlorg's Sweet Treats."

Pop sighed.

"What? I said we were getting sweet rolls," Purple said.

Thirty minutes later, Purple had a bag of soft blue rolls and they were back on their way to the Surla Triangle.

Purple munched on one of the rolls, kicking his feet a little bit in a relaxed manner.

"I'm sure you're very pleased with yourself," Pop said.

"Yep. Want one?" Purple offered Pop a roll.

"No thank you, sir."

"More for me." Purple took a big bite out of the roll. 

Pop shook his head in disappointment. Then he spotted something coming into sight outside the ship. He tapped Purple's shoulder. "Uh, sir?"

Purple looked at Pop. "What's up?"

Pop pointed to what looked like a giant ship, about half the size of the Massive, headed towards them.

"Oh, shit!" Purple dropped the roll and turned off auto-pilot. He took the control and quickly turned on the cloaking device, then piloted his ship out of the way of the incoming obstacle. It did not come close to hitting them. However, Pop and Purple both got a good look at the insignia painted on the side of the ship's bulky hull. A messy green handprint, the color of Mitor blood. 

"We found our pirates," Purple said with a chuckle.

"Remember, get the Trident. That's it," Pop said. "They'll have that back at their headquarters, not on the ship."

Purple grinned. "Yeah, buuuuuut!"

"Sir."

"Wouldn't it be fun if we couuuuuuld."

"Sir please."

Purple chuckled. "Take down the whole organization?"

"Good grief…"

[rat-slaughterer]

vortship​:

Aw, she liked the pug next door, and his wet, black eyes like reflective marbles. Clearly he was just trying to say ‘hi’. Only Hal could appreciate the majesty and beauty of an ugly Earth dog. Not even in all the creature stores in all of Weird Space could someone find an animal so unfit for survival- Hal loved it. Humans had meddled with entire gene pools just for a snuggly little smoosh face! A cause she could get behind.

Again, she found herself wondering about Irken nature, if they even could enjoy some part of a world that was not wholly theirs, rather than simply enjoying it’s spoils once it was conquered. Skoodge, while he seemed to have trouble at first, did answer, and it wasn’t with the caveat that he wanted to destroy humanity either. For that matter, did he? If not well, neither did she. 

The train hit another bump, and Skoodge managed to get through it without falling or stumbling. She’d never been to Irk, only seen it on TV back when she was on her home-planet. She remembered pink skies and rounded architecture. Irk was all functionality, as though their own planet was a temporary stepping stone compared to the ones they ruled.

“You gotta find the right snacks, and they’re almost as good as home.” Hal pointed out, “Like Takis!” food where they were from was ultra dense and caloric, Earth food might as well all be salad by comparison, “And you gotta know when to improvise! Like when I put pizza rolls on pizza.” she explained, hoping she was blowing Skoodge’s mind with snack knowledge right about now. 

She giggled at his final answer,

“Your favorite thing about Earth is the humans? Don’t tell Zim.” Hal was pretty sure that was his least favorite thing about Earth, perhaps that and barbeque sauce… maybe also the bees, “Nah, I like humans too. They’re…” she struggled to think of the word, “-I dunno, simple. Like things are easier here.”

Hal paused for a moment, taking in more scenery in the followed silence. Perhaps it was easier for her to say, she was a passer-through, an outsider, one foot out the door. As soon as the armada arrived, she wasn’t going to stick around, that was for sure. 

“That’s easy. It’s Real Housewives of Brunch! Those ladies sure are bored and rich.” it was an acquired taste, but even Gir could appreciate the simple joys of the ‘screaming lady show’. Hal tapped her chin as she attempted to think of a question,

“Oh! What are the Tallests like? I mean, like, in person?”

His mind is absolutely more than blown, quietly thinking that’s two times the pizza. He would love to try that, some time. Some pizza meats are fake enough for him to get away with eating them. He tried hawaiian pizza once, and the ham only hurt a little!

He listens to her response to him with rapt attention, not having any idea why he shouldn’t tell Zim. Humans are smelly, sure, but they’re also dumb. And not an active threat every waking moment of every second of every day trying to murdalize you while your back is turned. Hopefully. So, not all that bad, all things considered. He also has no idea what a housewife brunch is, voicing that thought when Hal finishes.

Now there’s corn fields outside. Wretched. Vile.

The hat atop Skoodge’s head moves every time the antennae underneath try to extend.

Unable to express himself with his antennae, he raises a brow at Hal. Really? The Tallest? Plural? Sure, they’re the almighty leaders of the entire Irken Empire, and sure, they’re... pretty great, and sure, they’d kill you without a moment’s hesitation given the opportunity, multiple times –

Actually, that’s more than enough reason to be asking about them.

“They’re tall!” He states, simple and obvious. “Not too accepting if you don’t at least reach around their waists.” He holds his hand above his head, palm parallel, reaching around Hal’s height. “They’d punt you outta’va an airlock if they saw you.” For more reason than being a vortian. He’s almost certain they’d made a sport out of it, with how many drones and smallers they’ve thrown out.

“Does –” he begins, but corrects himself.

“Did. Vort. Have leaders? Or, actually, how were they chosen?" It can’t be a height thing, too, not with how picky-choosey and... well, they’re all around the same height. There’s likely no good way to choose a Tallest when you’d have to pull out a microscope to see the difference between two taller-than-average vortians.

[messinwitheddie]

Wee need more on Loralei. Please share with us Loralei stuff! Howd she meet Dib? What's her dream job? Childhood memories? Share with us your Human OC!

Lorelai and Reg are my only two human ocs. I'm not as confident with my human oxs as I am my Irkens.

She comes across as a "bitchy ex" in the few times I've explored her character; which is really an injustice to her. She's not a bitch. She just has a lower tolerance for bs than most and bs has been steadily dumped at her feet her whole life.

Her design I've struggled with for a while, but I love drawing her. (Excuse her twists; lack of drawing skills on my part. I'm trying ^^;)

Lorelai von Verminstrasser

Granddaughter of Countess von Verminstrasser; the de- louser. Daughter/ youngest child of Prof. Arnd von Verminstrasser, (German super-scientists/ heir to the V.V. genetics lab/ nature reserve located somewhere in the depths of the Black Forrest) and Prof. Youmna Abdelsalam; (a master architect/ architectural history major from Cairo.)

There's a lot of fan lore behind Lorelai's character involving the von Verminstrasser family; which in my au, is an old, wealthy family of scientists/zoologist/biologists/ cryptid hunters dating back to the 12th century. In modern years their research has been less focused on hunting and more about documenting/ preservation.

Lorelai grew up on her family's nature reserve. She was homeschooled until she was 15. Her parents are loving and encouraging, but also can be eccentric, strict and often hold her to high standards; especially concerning her grades. Growing up, her family heavily involved her in their research/ experiments. Countess often included Lorelai on cryptid hunts. She was taught a long list of wilderness survival skills, an in depth understanding of animal biology/ behavior and unlimited access to von Verminstrasser tech.

Despite consistent displays of competency; she often found herself in the shadow of her older brother/ cousins.

She met Dib on the swollen eyeball network under the name “agent Khonsu" when they were 13. She originally only joined to troll her older brother, who often trolled the SE message boards. She and Dib never exchanged personal information beyond that of their SE names. She came across a lot of nonsense among the organizations, but was intrigued by what seemed legitimate. She and Dib had many heated debates. Their biggest argument was actually not over Zim, but over her theory that prof. Membrane was an alien or cryptid... and over who built the pyramids, but mostly her "Prof M. is an alien theory).

She and Dib met in person when she was 14. She had joined her parents and “oma" Countess to a trip to America. Her father was to assist Prof. Membrane on a major project/ guest appear on his show.

Lorelai seized the opportunity to gather evidence on her theory. She managed to infiltrate Dib's house and explore Prof. Membrane's personal lab.

Her theory was disproven upon further investigation. She immediately apologized for her accusations/ intrusion, which Dib reluctantly accepted. She admitted to him that her theory about the professor was faulty, but she desperately wanted a way to be noticed; on the SE network and by her family. She found a kindred spirit in Dib. They became close friends and continued to discuss (more civilly) paranormal science with him in the SE message boards. She later helped Dib infiltrate Zim's base one last time before he left Earth.

The two dated via video chat and the occasional visit until they were 19. With her family's blessing, Lorelai transferred colleges/ moved to Dib's city to live with him/ earn her degree (s).

The two of them went on a world paranormal hunt when they were twenty (behind their parents' backs). Their son, Reg was born soon after.

Lorelai has many fond memories exploring her family's nature reserve as a child. Some of her fondest memories are exploring haunted/ or paranormal sites with Dib. She loves rock climbing, hiking and tracking animals.

Now that she has had opportunities to explore who she is as a separate entity from her family and a world outside the V.V nature reserve, she would eventually like to take on the responsibility of running it/ protecting it. (She cannot trust it to her brother and cousins who have little interest in maintaining the reserve.)

Since her breakup with Dib she has returned to her ancestral home to help manage the facility. Her biggest goal as of late (beyond furthering her studies/ being a good mother to Reg) is to prove the existence of the Wolptertinger.

I glossed over so much and there's still so much text.

I realized after going through my tags I've spelled this poor oc's name wrong since the beginning. ><

[askzelandpen]

@commsofficerirken Pen finally finished cleaning the house and shed making sure everything was ready for a new visitor. Though the house didn’t have much furniture within it, to begin with. The house had 2 floors as far as Pen was aware of there was the basement and the ground level. It had a kitchen, living room, 2 bedrooms 1 bath, a den, and an office. A hallway stretched from the kitchen leading to a door that opened to the backyard. it was a rather spacious backyard. Most of the rooms were painted different shades of green except Pen’s bedroom. the whole house covered in wooden floors except the tiled bathroom. The layout of the house was a bit off or at least the random window in the kitchen was, it showed the outside but from what anyone could tell the other side of the wall was a living room. The bathroom’s mirror didn’t reflect anything. Also, the fridge in the kitchen wasn’t connected to anything. Pen however never really noticed how strange that was, then again he never dived too deep into how human architecture was supposed to be.

The outside of the house was painted dark blue the windows trimmed with brown oak the door was made of the same material the door had a normal everyday doorbell, though pen would never admit it sometimes he would have to stand on his tiptoes to even reach it. 

Pen was only an inch taller then Zim his height was a sensitive subject for him (being that on the food-chain of the Irken navigators he was one of the lowest-ranked, he also had to work really hard to get any recognition.), alongside his strange upside-down Pak. Though his Pak was actually an easy fix all he had to do was go to the medical Irken to fix it but he always found himself to busy with work or getting caught up with blitz’s mess when he was training, oh boy did he hate that Irken. Even more than Zim. Once he was done he decided it would be best to stay nearby the door he stood outside in front of the door in disguise staring down at his communication pad that almost looked like a grey tablet. only slightly paying attention to the stone walkway that leads up to the house.

Pen wore his usual human disguise a pink and white hoodie with goggles to cover his eyes, he also wore a nice brown wig and black pants. They still wore Irken gloves/boots and didn’t even bother disguising their green skin. However from what he could tell people just thought it was some kind of skin condition. 

[cravitus426]

Greetenings!

Today we have a headcanon ramble, and also a couple redrawn canon elites from the Alexovich Concepts!

Some time it has been since the last krevrant, and while I still haven’t done big Irken biology headcanon rant, I’ve been playing around with Elite designs as of late! Thus, I figured what better time to ramble about a military force such as them - one that we both know less of and more of than we do of the actual Irken Armada, in fact!

So what, exactly, is an Irken Elite?

Well that’s the funny thing - it seems self explanatory, like how Almighty Tallests are the tallest people and are the almighty rulers, or how Invaders invade,or Frylords lord over fast food establishments. So, by that logic, the Irken Elite are, well, elite.

What exactly is that supposed to mean? The better question would be, ‘What do we know about the Irken Elite?’

Well, we know a few things, and in particular things around the Elite.

1. To join the Irken Elite, you must pass a trial.

In other words, you have to take a test. ‘But krev,’ you say, ‘That’s nothing new!’

You would be right, flesh-creature, but in particular the Irken Elite trials seem to at the very least have a seventy year wait period before it can be retaken as seen in Tak’s episode, aside from being held on a military fortress world.

As a side note, Devastis is in fact a legitimate example of Irken architecture and fortifications that aren’t pink or red or deeply purple in color.

Granted, this is kind of debatable given that Zim fragged over half the planet’s power grid and caused mass chaos, but I doubt that would stall all Elite recruitment for that long - this is either a standard ‘fail, wait, and retry’ period where you can improve your skills akin to real world militaries, or it could in fact be the actual timespan between times that Elites open recruitment.

Thus, we reach my first headcanon - the Irken Elite trials are, when there are no horrendous casualties or other shortages of personnel - held every few decades, giving plenty of time for a new generation of soldiers to arise and for the washouts from last gen to brush up and succeed.

So, what else do we know?

2. The Irken Elite are the ranks from which Invaders are often selected.

More from the Tak episode, as well as implications from things such as The Nightmare Begins, wherein Invaders are stated to be, effectively the best. Given how much Tak wanted to be an Elite and how they said that one day they could even become an Invader, it seems like a pretty clear line of progression.

From any walk of life you undergo the Elite trials; should you succeed, you prove that you’re among the best. Should you be the best of the best (or at the very least conveniently the best at sneaking and espionage), you become an Invader.

Now, this isn’t to necessarily say that Invaders are more elite than the Elite, but at the same time given that you are deploying an agent alone into no mere enemy lines, but the heart of their homeworld to effectively conquer it, it probably helps to have been an Irken Elite beforehand.

Regardless, point is, you level up to Elite, then you kind of side-level to Invader.

This brings us to the second real headcanon - the idea that you are not promoted into the Irken Elite, and that in theory anyone from any walk of life - scientist, servant, soldier, or actor - can become an Elite should they succeed in the trials.

Also implied - Invaders may or may not actually be the best of the best, and instead may just be the best suited from the Irken Elite for infiltration.

Anyway, onto the next one! This one may surprise you - or it might not, I dunno. We’re getting into interpretation territory here, which leans more to headcanon.

What do I mean by that? Why do I think this’ll surprise you?

3. The Irken Elite are equipped with personal power armor.

Because, quite bluntly, I think people get Elite gear wrong. I’ve seen their boots treated as big shoes with glowing bits, their pauldrons treated as just plain old cloth gubbins, their little tubed chestpiece forgotten, and their gauntlets in particular treated as spherical boxes worn over the whole forearm with three little holes for their fingers.

It feels as if people aren’t thinking about what these could be, and it does do me an anger because I feel like I’ve figured out the design.

Look at the claws on the first, third, and fifth elites (13, 15, and 17) - note how, aside from being way more well defined and sharp-looking than normal gloved Irken fingers, there is a gauntlet with the fingers missing.

Or, more fittingly, retracted. Those are mechanical fingers, and I’d bet on it! They look nothing like normal Irken fingers, and the Irkens here are too small to have the big spindly fingers of the Tallest despite having similar gauntlets.

Think back to the Hobo 13 episode - remember Zim’s big powerfists and overall power armor, and recall how he absolutely yeeted the instructor!

This technology exists in similar forms used by other alien races as part of training equipment - Irkens would absolutely jump on the opportunity to supercharge metal claws, and if anybody would get them it’d be the Elite.

Canon precedent for power armor that looks very similar aside, it’d explain what those tubes coming from the PAK are - they’re likely power cables, and aside from this giving me an excuse to call the gauntlets something way cooler like powerclaw, the idea that these are mechanical also opens the door up to things like jetboots, minigun hands, and other crazy things!

Plus, I mean, if you want to bring Peridot and Steven Universe into things, well

they’re basically limb enhancers and you have to admit that’s a pretty clear and logical parallel

Anyway, third obligatory formal headcanon - aside from thinking that Elites have power armor, which they probably do - is that Elites are offered some of the best tech around, and have the opportunity to perfectly customize and personalize equipment to their specific liking and skill set.

That aside, we now basically run out of canon information about the Irken Elite!

So, in summary, the Irken Elite are:

1. Selected every few decades through mass testing

1b. Implication that they are the best of the best overall given that testing doesn’t seem inherently restricted to ranks or existing military service; supported by 2.

2. The group from which Invaders are selected

3. Armed with advanced personal armor

Now that that’s out of the way, what of actual denser krev headcanon?

When it comes to the way I think about the Elite, I generally equate them to the Spectres from Mass Effect - specially selected, special equipment, special skills, and special freedoms to do their jobs.

Given the infrequency of recruitment aside from what i can only presume is emergency ‘we’re going through soldiers like free nachos’ measures, as well as how each one is branded and literally called an Irken Elite on top of all the neat toys they get, the point of big gaps in trials is likely both to give time for the best of the best to thin out through attrition, be it death or retirement.

By only recruiting once every half generation or so (outside of emergency ‘going through troops like free nachos’ scenarios), this allows the best of a generation to be evaluated, compared, and contrasted at one time. This ensures that only the best of the best get in, and it also ensures that the ranks don’t bloat through constant recruitment.

Bloating the ranks would likely reduce the allure of the Irken Elite considerably, as Elite usually implies that you are the cream of the crop. Arming an entire army of Elites would also likely be obscenely expensive, not to mention how tedious it would be to track every individual properly - if everyone’s roaming around and selecting their own missions, then you just have roaming warbands and no concentrated campaigns, no Irken Armada to power through the galaxy.

Thus, recruiting in one go and waiting for the numbers to thin out keeps you from having too many expensively well-armed independents running around, as well as ensures that you get the absolute peak of years of training and combat.

As such, an Elite is basically expected to be prepared for any situation and to possess general skills in every category.

For an active Irken Elite, a number of classifications exist indicating things such as your specialty, freedoms, and general qualification level. A squad of lower level Elites, for example, may operate as a more traditional military unit and choose to deploy to campaigns as yet another pawn for generals and admirals to use in their pursuit of total Irken conquest.

A higher level Elite, however, typically an officer, may be trusted enough by the Control Brains to effectively go off and do their own thing, and in some cases successful deep recon, research, and infiltration missions have been conducted by freelancing Elites and their hand-picked crews.

In other words, basic elites can choose their missions but still have to act as part of a squad. Meanwhile, the better of an Elite you are, the more willing the Control Brains are to let you go and do Mass Effect, building a merry band of misfit-loyalists and plundering pirate bases to fuel your need for bigger, better guns.

Just remember to come back when the Control Brains yell at you to, otherwise you’ll get erased from the history books and hunted down for treason!

As far as equipment goes, while there is a general standard template for Elites, usually including powerclaws, powerboots, and some form of chestplate that acts as the core of armor functions, there can be a fair degree of variety.

Overall, what does this mean? Well, it means that Irken Elites are well-armed, well-armored, well-trained, highly skilled, independent and are not in fact just wearing tin cans for gloves!

there’s probably more here but I’m hungry and it’s almost time for lunch

[foamyphilosophy]

I always kinda imagined Irk pre industrialized had zero water on the surface, if their was any it would be underground, I also imagined Irk being so mineral rich that meat would be naturally salted to all hell and super greasy. Which is why it seems like Irkens subsist entirely on junk food. With any minerals found in the soil also tainting Irk's subterranean water to a point it would neutralize the chemical reaction leading to the burning effect.

Also with how Irkens building and architectural styles are pretty much labyrinthine and a lot of their structures continue into the ground, combined with how Irkens seem to have eyes that glow in low light like cats that early Irkens spent a majority of their time underground.

I probably think way too hard about how the Irkens function but that's just me.

Irken Dust baths

I got this idea in my head that won't go away.

How does Zim bathe if he has never encountered water before?

The biggest clue is that in the Rise of Zit Boy Zim demands "cleansing chalk". He even refers to it as soap.

Only one thing comes to mind whenever I hear/watch that part: chinchillas. I remembered hearing that they couldn't be bathed regularly in soap and water because it would put their little bodies in shock and perish. So, I did a little more research.

Chinchillas come from an area in the world that even in the high mountains their rain fall is roughly non-existent. What little water they have must be reserved for drinking only. But the place has a lot of volcanic ash. Buy rolling around in the very fine soil they excess oils are absorbed and debris are rubbed off.

From what little we have seen of Irk it is highly industrialized leading to an arid environment. Zim also in the Wettening had never encountered rain before lending more to the fact that his home world is very similar to a chinchilla's natural environment.

It would make sense that Irkens would adapt to something very different when it came to bathing.

Now let's not confuse dirt, what all Irkens seem to hate, with volcanic ash. Ash isn't actually dirty. The process of burning would eliminate germs. The chemical composition is also incredibly different having raised the acidic and carbon levels significantly.

So, that's it... I guess I just wanna see Zim rolling around in a bowl of dust or something... I don't know.

[diloph]

Interlopers, Invaders, Investigators and Doom: Chapter 7

While the Doctor, Dib and Gaz flee Bloaty's Pizza Hog, the Almighty Tallest finally arrive on Judgementia, eager to convince the Control Brains that Zim has turned traitor... but as is so very common in the universe, the best laid plans of Time Lords and Tallest often go awry.

In the not-too-distant future, unstoppable forces collide when the Doctor arrives in the middle of Invader Zim’s latest plan to take over the Earth. But unfortunately for the pair of them, Dib and Gaz, the four are drawn into a terrible plot that endangers not only the Earth, but the Irken Empire and possibly the whole universe as well!

<<FIRST

<<PREVIOUS

In Irken society, it was an unspoken rule that you didn't go to Judgementia if you valued your life.

On paper, the idea was absurd. While most of the Irken race were self-absorbed, war-hungry lunatics, they weren't stupid. Judgementia, like other colonies, was designed to be safe from the very beginning. A strict terraforming policy had exterminated the original biosphere and the atmosphere was now regulated by gigantic machines. Wherever nature tried to hinder, Irken science had tamed it.

The result was that Judgementia and every other Irken planet was transformed into an urban paradise, ripe for colonisation. The trend continued when the settlers arrived. Each street was well-kept and every building within the planet-spanning city housed enough technology to make their inhabitants lives comfortable. It was a perfect, if sterile, example of civilisation.

But beneath the surface, it was a different story. Hidden by its monolithic buildings and banks of supercomputers, the dark heart of the Irken Empire beat in full force. Judgementia was deep inside Irken territory and though it was only a single facility on a single world, its power spread like a spider's web across the Irken race.

Like many of the worlds conquered, settled or otherwise controlled by the Irkens, Judgementia served a single purpose within the Empire. The planet and everything on it, be they person or machine, served as the central nervous system for law enforcement across the entire Irken Empire. It was their tireless work that ensured that the Control Brains could police their civilisation without restraint and without mercy.

The all-consuming, single-minded dedication that it took to uphold the Collective of the Control Brain's will was colossal. Many of the Irken worlds housed only a single Control Brain, but Judgementia had been home to three. From their seat of power, it had been their responsibility to coordinate and orchestrate judiciary movements and crack down on insubordination.

It was this dedication that had made Judgementia so feared throughout the cosmos. Given that any Irken could access rules and laws with a thought, thanks to their PAKs, it was simply a matter of common sense to obey them and avoid Judgementia. Constant propaganda and manipulation from the Control Brains ensured that loyalty was bred into the majority of the Irken race... and fear of retribution into the others.

As a result of this stigma, the planet rarely received visitors. Asides from those who worked there, the streets and skies were empty. The solar system it occupied seemed completely devoid of life, save for the speck of poisonous brilliance that was that terrible world.

Had events across the universe not progressed as they had, Judgementia would have remained that way for a very, very long time.

Looming in orbit over Judgementia, the Massive and the Irken Armada cast a great shadow across the planet below, watching in silence as a single shuttle zipped away from the battleship. It was an sorry little craft, unassuming and sorely in need of maintenance; its once-yellow hull was pock-marked with dents from micro-collisions, leaving only a few patches of paint that had yet to be scoured away.

Next to the glimmering red dreadnought and the shining splendour below it, it made for a sad sight and it certainly didn't look as if it was transporting two of the most important beings in the entire cosmos.

Inside the shuttle, Almighty Tallest Purple picked at the fraying sponge that made up his seat cushion, his head on the dashboard. His eyes slid to the windows and he groaned when he realised that they were still in flight.

“I can’t believe that you won’t teleport anywhere. It's so much quicker.” he complained. “Just because you're afraid of them doesn't mean that they're dangerous.”

Sitting in the pilot's seat, Almighty Tallest Red glared at his twin. “Well, I can't believe that you complain about it every time we make a trip like this!” he retorted, petulantly. “And I'm not afraid of them, I just don't like them. They're an accident waiting to happen.”

“Just like the autopilot?” Purple asked. Red didn't take his hands from the ship's controls.

“Shut up. If I have to deal with the Control Brains today, there's no way I'm going to deal with another stupid computer like them. Stop complaining, we're almost there.”

““Almost”? I thought you said that piloting the shuttle yourself was meant to be quick?” Purple smirked.

If he was looking to get some reaction out of his fellow ruler, he was ignored. With an annoyed huff, Purple turned his gaze out of the cockpit windows again. He made a face as the dim, electronic lights of Judgementia flooded the shuttle and his frown only deepened when he spotted their destination.

Like an oversized barb sticking out of the skyline, the dark, oily structure of the Spike of Judgement rose from the city. Ugly and unconventional, its design stood in stark contrast to the muted reds and purples of ordinary Irken architecture with the added benefit of size causing it to command attention from all those around it.

Much like the Control Brains, the Spike was ancient and shrouded in superstition. Nobody knew where it came from, but it invoked the same fear and obedience that the Control Brains did. Merely the sight of it towering over the other buildings was enough to cause even the most hardened criminal to fall silent. If Judgementia was to be feared, then this was the planet's sting.

Even the Tallest were not immune. As the shuttle fell under the shadow of the tower, neither of them could help a primal chill riding up and down their spines, pins and needles tingling around their PAK's control pods. It was an eerie sensation, almost as if the Spike itself was watching them, a relic from a time that was long since forgotten.

Raising his head from its resting place, Purple pressed his face against the space-glass, cringing at the ominous building that they approached. “I hate this place.” he mumbled.

“Everybody hates this place,” Red replied dryly, “Besides, I doubt that our previous visit did the place any good. It probably hates us too.”

With the towering presence of the Spike of Judgement keeping a stern watch over the tiny shuttle's approach, Purple had to stop himself from taking the other Tallest's words too literally. Instead, he tried to focus on Red smoothly steering the shuttle into a landing zone as the other Tallest set them down with a satisfied smirk. Almighty Tallest Red glanced at his co-pilot.

“And you scoffed at a shuttle. See? It's just as quick and much, much safer.” he declared. Almighty Tallest Purple looked unconvinced, muttering under his breath.

“Yeah, five minutes, instantaneous travel, they're pretty much the same thing.” he grumbled sarcastically. He prised himself from the window and sighed heavily. “I didn't see anybody on the way in. Do you think we scared them off after the last time? Maybe there's nobody working here now that the local Control Brains have gone.”

Red grunted. “Does it matter? We're here to speak to the Control Brains, not the janitors. Besides, they had this place up and running again within a week of that disaster. All we have to do is speak to whoever the Collective assigned to the task.” he said. “So, hurry up! The more time we spend hanging around, the less likely the Control Brains will take this seriously.”

The Tallest didn't wait for a welcoming committee. Without so much as acknowledging the puzzled workers at the landing pad, the Almighty Tallest made for the elevator that would take them to the central chambers.

It was a quiet, lonely trip. Much like the rest of the planet thus far, the corridors and hallways were sparsely populated by machines and occasionally a frightened member of staff. The latter gave the Almighty Tallest a wide berth. While they were all but gods to some of their loyal subjects and vengeful gods at that, simple reverence wasn't the reason that the Tallest were avoided.

The last time that the twin emperors had been on Judgementia, the population wasn't so skittish. While Judgementia was still feared throughout the cosmos, those that lived on it lead fairly normal lives.

But the last time that the Almighty Tallest had been on Judgementia, they'd brought Zim along with them. The Irken rulers had taken him there to stand trial at an Existence Evaluation, which was a military court-martial reserved for traitors and the grossly incompetent. Zim more than qualified for the latter and Judgementia was just the latest in a long line of attempts by Red and Purple to be rid of him once and for all.

Unfortunately for the Tallest, the Control Brains and the Irken Empire as a whole, the trial was doomed to fail. Just like the attempts to exile him to Foodcourtia and to Earth, just like the attempts to kill him with the training course on Hobo 13 and that one incident with the chainsaw, Zim pulled through unscathed.

It had been going so well at first. Every piece of evidence, even the ones presented in his defence, cemented Zim as a dangerous, reckless lunatic. Weapons destroyed, plans thwarted, even the predecessors of Red and Purple, Tallest Miyuki and Tallest Spork, had met their ends as a result of Zim's buffoonery. Though nobody could fault his loyalty, he was too insane and stupid to be left alone. Or under supervision. Or allowed to exist in any general sense.

Once the trial was over, the Control Brains stationed on Judgementia moved to sentence Zim; his PAK would be removed and destroyed. Without the equipment within it, Zim would die and he would die quickly. Neither Red nor Purple had ever been happier than they had at that moment.

It was only then that the Almighty Tallest's plans backfired.

Underestimating the extent of Zim's insanity, the trio of Control Brains connected to Zim's PAK and began to delete its contents. But upon coming into contact with Zim's... unique mind, the logical supercomputers were overwhelmed by the sheer volume of corrupted data and were driven completely mad.

It was this corruption that caused the three Brains to look at Zim in a new light. After they were as mad as he was, they viewed Zim as the greatest Invader of all time and could find no faults in his actions whatsoever. Once they'd reached their decision, the corrupted Control Brains acquitted him of all charges and set him free, even rewarding him with a moment's control of the Massive.

When it was over, Zim left, none the wiser to the attempt to destroy him, but the damage he'd caused was irreparable. Almost as soon as he had left the solar system, the Judgementian Brains were destroyed by their self-quarantine systems, preventing any contamination of the Collective. Zim's personality was so contagious, it had eroded the firewalls protecting the other Control Brains and was ready to spread, had the automated self-destruct systems not annihilated the infected Brains first.

Once the danger had passed, the Collective reviewed their policy on Zim. Openly hostile actions, like a firing squad, had been ruled out long ago. That would only provoke him into defending himself and if he could do so much damage unwittingly, any attempts he might make to actively go against the norm and turn traitor could be disastrous.

It was agreed that the safest option for the Control Brains was to go out of their way to avoid Zim entirely, until his natural lifespan had run its course. Contact was only to be maintained by the Almighty Tallest, a precautionary measure to keep Zim pacified and that was all. There would be no attempts to bring him to Irken space to ruin things further. No more attempts to end the former Invader's life.

That was the way it had to stay.

Nothing short of open betrayal, or some unmitigated disaster, could convince them otherwise.

The disastrous Existence Evaluation may have ended the Judgementian Brains, but the position that Judgementia occupied within the Irken Empire was too important to be left unmanned.

Unfortunately for the Collective, simply replacing the destroyed Brains was out of the question. The aggressive quarantine protocols that prevented contamination had not only destroyed the Control Brains on the planet, but utterly annihilated them. Not even ash had been left behind and there was no data to recycle and repurpose for the Brains' successors.

Creating a new Brain from scratch was also out of the question; the Judgementian Brains had required specialised calibrations to ensure that they were functioning correctly, time that the Control Brains did not have to waste. To maintain their grip on the Irken Empire, Judgementia needed a functioning Control Brain or the equivalent of one and they needed it fast.

As building a replacement Brain would take too long and moving another to the planet was incredibly difficult, the hive-mind of the Control Brains sought another solution. If the Collective sustained a remote connection to the planet and each one donated a tiny portion of their processing power, they could form a virtual Control Brain to run Judgementia for them.

The plan was a success. Within the week, the mechanical portions of the planet ran flawlessly once more, even if its organic half had lost their peace of mind. They were expendable. Judgementia and its processing power were not.

Coordinating their efforts, the most powerful and adaptable of the entire Collective, the Central Control Brain, took direct control of the project. Though it was still nestled in an impenetrable fortress on Irk, its presence was felt just as keenly on Judgementia, occupying the various courtrooms and trial chambers via gigantic screens.

The biggest of these was in the primary trial chamber of the Spike, where the original jurors of Judgementia met their end. There, each of the huge screens linked with its fellows, dwarfing the Brains that had occupied the space before. The sight dominated the room, a statement of the Central Control Brain's power over all those who stood before it, despite the Brain being stationed countless light-years away.

It was those screens that now filled the Almighty Tallest's vision. The image of the bloated, speckled carapace of the Central Irk Brain thrummed with power, its PAK-like shell hiding the delicate, lobed cortex that gave the Control Brains their name. It made no move to welcome the Tallest, but much like the Spike of Judgement, it seemed to be looking at them. Each crimson-coloured roundel stared out at the Tallest like the eyes of some strange insect, peering ahead, yet somehow fixated on the two Irken Emperors all at the same time.

After a moment's pause, Red was the first one to hover into the room. He straightened his back and made himself look important. Purple followed in his wake, craning his head around his twin, towards the screen and cruised to a stop.

“Uh, was the desk always there?” Purple whispered. Red blinked and followed his line of sight. Masked by the sheer size of the screen and the light pouring from it was a tiny desk, staffed by a clerk who was diligently shuffling paperwork to and fro.

Exchanging confused glances, the Almighty Tallest sidled up to the desk. Neither the Central Control Brain or the clerk noticed the pair. They'd expected the silence from the Control Brain, but being ignored by the little Irken at the desk was a surprise.

Purple cleared his throat. The clerk didn't even look up from his work, leaning forwards to read something of interest on a distant sheet of paper, then back to the ones in his hand. Purple tried again, but received the same result.

Red growled impatiently. “Excuse me?” he grunted, drumming his fingers on the desk.

Now that he was actually being addressed, the little Irken clerk looked up at the pair of them. “Do you have an appointment?” he droned.

Red blinked incredulously, glancing at his brother, then back to the desk clerk. “You’re asking if the Almighty Tallest of the Irken Empire… have an appointment?” he asked, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. The Irken nodded at his leaders, nonplussed.

“Everyone needs an appointment.” he blinked, quietly going back to his paperwork.

Red sighed, irritated by the clerk. “Yes, yes we have an appointment.” he lied, annoyed by the little pest.

Looking through his papers, the Irken desk-jockey frowned. “Well, I don't see any appointments under A. Tallest...” he hummed, peeking between two pages.

It was probably for the best that the Central Control Brain decided to speak before Red could reach over the desk and strangle the clerk. “ALMIGHTY TALLEST. YOUR PRESENCE HERE WAS UNEXPECTED. STATE YOUR INTENT.” it rumbled, its deep, booming voice echoing in the otherwise empty trial chamber.

Waiting for the echo to die down, Almighty Tallest Red cleared his throat. “Control Brain, we have evidence that Zim has-”

The coloured segments of the Control Brain pulsed with energy. “INVADER ZIM IS IN EXILE. HE IS ONLY TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED AS A PRECAUTIONARY MEASURE.” it boomed. “THE PASSIFICATION PROTOCOLS EXIST FOR THIS PURPOSE.”

Red hadn't expected to be interrupted. “Yes, we know, but-” he faltered. Purple rolled his eyes and took over from his floundering brother.

“Control Brain, we have evidence that Zim has betrayed the Irken Empire!” he announced grandly, pausing for effect. “When we contacted him during Pacification Protocol D, we obtained footage that shows he was sabotaging his own equipment with help from the planet's natives!”

The Central Irk Brain said nothing, but a thin cable whipped out from the wall and attached itself to the PAK of the Tallest, lifting him into the air. With a dull click, data was drawn from Purple's memory and projected onto a holographic screen that hovered in the centre of the room. Red and Purple exchanged smug glances as the footage began to play.

Red motioned towards the screen. “When we called, it looked like we'd just caught him in the middle of destroying his space station. Normally, we'd just chalk that up to him being him, but just before we lost the transmission, we saw this.”

The Tallest pointed to a strange, pale-skinned creature that had emerged from the blue box that Zim was standing in. It noticed the Almighty Tallest's transmission and fixed them with an intimidating, unblinking glare.

“There! One of the planet's hideous natives, a human. For something on an exploding station, it looks real calm, doesn't it?” Purple asked. “We tried confronting it, but we got no response and then it went out of its way to try to save Zim!”

Purple's words had some truth to them. The three watched as the human finished staring at the Tallest and looked down instead at the panicking Zim. It then frowned and pulled him inside the box with it. After a moment, the blue wooden box began to fade away with a strange, ethereal groaning sound before the station finally died.

The footage cut to static and the Almighty Tallest looked hopefully up at the Control Brain. “We think that the box is some sort of escape pod, but it disappears before the station is destroyed,” Red told the Central Control Brain, “Our technicians aboard the Massive confirmed the station's annihilation before we came to bring this to your attention.”

The Brain didn't respond. It replayed the footage once more. Then a third time, studying the footage in silence. Then it replayed it again. And again.

Finally, the cables that held the Tallest aloft retracted, dumping Purple ungraciously on top of his brother. They snaked forwards, plugged into the PAK of Almighty Tallest Red and extracted the same clip from his perspective. Once more, the Brain studied the video, even overlaying it with the data it had taken from Purple.

With a fizzle, the holographic display vanished and the room was silent. The cables returned to their housing under the huge screen as the Central Control Brain shared the information with the rest of the Collective. Then, with a voice that shook the whole room, the Control Brain spoke.

“THIS DATA IS... UNDER OUR NOTICE,” the Central Irk Brain decided, rumbling in its deep baritone, “THERE IS NOTHING TO SUGGEST THAT THE CREATURE WAS NOT UNDER ZIM'S CONTROL. NO ACTION WILL BE TAKEN.”

“What?!” both Tallest exclaimed as one. Red pushed his fellow Tallest from him and hovered up to the desk.

“You can't just ignore this, Control Brain! It's obvious that Zim is... taking steps to... betray our species and-”

“INVADER ZIM'S BEHAVIOUR IS CONSISTENTLY ERRATIC.” the Control Brain replied, dismissing his claim. “MISINTERPRETATION OF HIS INTENTIONS IS AS DANGEROUS AS BELIEVING THAT THEY ARE MALICIOUS. ALL PRIOR EVIDENCE SUGGESTS THAT, WHILE INEPT AND DANGEROUS, ZIM IS A LOYAL SUBJECT OF THE IRKEN EMPIRE.”

“Loyal, yes,” agreed Purple, “But he's more of a threat to us than our conventional enemies!”

“THEN IT IS YOUR DUTY TO KEEP HIM PASSIFIED. THE COLLECTIVE OF THE CONTROL BRAINS HAS DESIGNATED ZIM AS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION.”

Red and Purple shot each other thunderous looks. The Control Brain wasn't even willing to consider that Zim might have betrayed them, no matter how they spun it. The Tallest thought that both appearing in person and the footage of the human trying to rescue Zim might've tipped the scales in their favour at least.

Being ignored like that stung, but the fact that Zim had evaded yet another attempt to get rid of him, without even doing anything this time, annoyed the pair even more. Red drifted away from the desk and the screen, inhaling sharply. “Somehow, I just knew this would be a waste of time.” he hissed under his breath.

“No, you didn't! You suggested this in the first place!” Purple said, correcting his fellow Tallest.

“Yeah, but I said that too!” protested Red. “I knew it would go wrong, nothing is ever simple when it involves Zim! Why didn't you stop me?!”

“Zim-schmim! This entire thing is your fault!” his fellow said accusingly. “We could have just called the Brains! If it wasn't for your stupid idea, we could've gone straight home! I haven't seen Irk in months!”

“Oh yeah, like you care about home,” Red snorted, “All you care about is your stuff, which happens to be on Irk.”

Purple opened his mouth to retort, but he realised that the argument was getting out of hand. Squabbling in front of the Control Brain only made the pair look foolish and to the Brains, that was one step away from being ineffective.

Ineffective leaders got replaced. Normally, at great detriment to the former ruler.

Instead of taking another shot at his brother, Purple sucked in a breath, then turned to the huge image of the Brain on the monitors and nodded stiffly. “Okay, so, um... thanks for setting us straight! Great seeing you again! We're just gonna go back to conquering the universe now, okay?” he told it.

Red finally cottoned on and chipped in. “Ah, yes, the universe! Y'know, we're making great progress against the Draconians!” he said, confidently waving his arm across the chambers, to the door. “Well, victory waits for nobody, so we'll hit the old cosmic trail now and see you in... ooh, the next time we're called in.”

False grins affixed to their faces, the pair beat a hasty retreat. The Control Brain made no move to stop the Almighty Tallest, at least, not until they had reached the door to the trial chambers. “HALT.” it rumbled.

The Almighty Tallest stopped moving instantly. Complain though they might, disobeying a direct order from a Control Brain, much less the Central Control Brain... wasn't a wise move. Many of their deceased predecessors could attest to that.

Making a face, Red muttered a few choice insults under his breath before he spun back towards the screens. “Yes?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“YOU BELIEVE THAT YOUR JOURNEY HERE HAS BEEN A WASTED VENTURE?” the Control Brain asked. Red hesitated. Was it trying to bait them into something?

“Not... as such, no, we were just misguided. You have corrected us. Thank you.” he replied rigidly.

“YOU ACTED IN OUR INTEREST. YOUR LOYALTY AND WILLINGNESS TO SERVE WILL BE REWARDED.”

“Rewarded?” Purple echoed. He ignored the look that Red directed at him. “What sort of reward?”

“DATA CLERK. RELAY UPLOADED CASE TO THE ALMIGHTY TALLEST.”

The little Irken that sat at the desk below the screen nodded and began to rummage through the sheets of paper at his desk until he excavated a data pad. He began typing on it, then passed it over to Tallest Red.

“What is this?” the crimson Tallest asked, his voice suspicious. He took the pad, glanced over its contents, then passed it to Purple. The clerk smiled up at them, the first change in his bored expression since the pair had arrived in the chambers.

“Well, if you're looking to help out the Control Brains-”

“We came looking for help, not to run an errand!” Red spat. The clerk ignored him, likely because he was following the Control Brain's orders. He was protected.

“If you're looking to help out the Control Brains,” he continued, “Then it might be worth your time to pursue something that's been troubling us. It's related to Zim, you see.”

“Oh.” Purple deflated. “Which is our jurisdiction now, right?”

“THAT IS CORRECT.” the Control Brain boomed.

“You see, there's this unpaid ball of snacks in orbit over the Sorting Planet-”

Purple's attitude brightened instantly. He zipped closer to the desk. “Snacks!?” he asked. “Oh, in that case, we'll be happy to help you!”

Before Red could protest, the data clerk went on. “Well, I'm glad to hear it! It's been clogging up their system for months. According to the local Control Brain, its been hovering above the planet all that time and the Collective are worried that the Resisty could end up using it to fuel their rebellion.”

“So you want us to pay for it?” Red guessed. “Or move it?”

“No,” said the clerk, “The Control Brains would like you to track down the person responsible for ordering the snacks and make them pay for and dispose of the snacks, post-haste.”

Purple deflated. “Oh.” he said, disappointed. Red glared at him as his face fell.

“Way to go, jackass. Now we've been roped into this mess too!” he growled. He turned to the clerk again. “And what if they're unwilling to pay, or can't pay?”

“Then you are to arrest them and bring them to Planet Incar for imprisonment.” the little receptionist went on.

Glowering, Red looked up at the Central Control Brain. “This sounds more like a job for the Elites or the Rebellion Suppression Squad. What do we have to do with it?” he asked. “What does Zim have to do with it, Control Brain?”

“THE CULPRIT'S LAST KNOWN COORDINATES PLACE HER ON ZIM'S EXILE PLANET, EARTH. PRIOR TO HER DISAPPEARANCE, YOU WERE THE LAST ONES IN CONTACT WITH IRKEN TAK.”

The Tallest struggled to remember the name and the unremarkable person that had accompanied it. It was only through her link to the snack ball that they were able to put a name to the face. After a moment's searching, Red spoke again.

“And given that we were the last people to talk to her and the fact that Zim is our responsibility...” he trailed off, then scowled. “I'm sorry, but no. We're not really cut out for that sort of detective work. My idiot brother agreed out of impulse, not duty... all he ever thinks about is his stomach.”

“YOU HAVE SWORN TO ASSIST US.” the Brain pointed out. “THIS IS YOUR DUTY, AS TALLEST.”

Backed into a corner, Red glared at Purple again, urging him to throw his lot in with his fellow ruler. “Um, okay, but listen: we weren't planning on going on an active assignment right now. We've only ever needed a few people to crew the Massive. We don't have any Elites for the groundwork right now!” Purple argued.

“YOU HAVE ACCESS TO THE ARMADA. YOU NEED ONLY APPREHEND ONE INDIVIDUAL IF NECESSARY. THE IRKEN ARMADA WILL BE MORE THAN SUFFICIENT.” decided the Central Control Brain.

Hanging their heads, the Tallest sighed in unison. There was no way they could convince the Brain that the mission was a waste of time, so it was probably better that they just go with it. Red huffed and folded his arms.

“Fine. We'll do what you want.” he grumbled, handing the data pad back to the desk clerk. “Anything else?”

The little clerk shrugged, looking something up on the data pad. “Not really, just a few ideas on where to begin,” he said, “Irken Tak is a bit of an anomaly. Commissioned as an experimental unit, flunked out of the Invader Academy, abandoned her post on Dirt and fell off the radar... her behaviour is unpredictable, but there's been no evidence to suggest she ever left Earth. We can assume that she is still there. Whether she is alive or dead remains unknown.”

Red, feeling that he needed to strangle someone that day, decided that Tak would be the best candidate and he nodded. “Okay, okay, we get it.” he said, cutting off the clerk. “We go to Earth, we find her and crack some skulls-”

“Skull.” Purple chipped in.

“Skull,” Red corrected himself, “And then we head home. Okay. Simple enough. Let's go.”

He gestured for the other Tallest to follow him back to the shuttle, but Purple had higher priorities. “Hey, can't I just buy the snack-ball? I mean, if she's a criminal now and it's an inconvenience, we can cut out the middleman... middlewoman...” he offered.

Red kneaded his brow and left his fellow Tallest waiting for his answer, heading for the door. Unfortunately for Purple, the Almighty Tallest was to be disappointed. “You don't have the receipt,” said the clerk, shaking his head back and forth, “So, I'm afraid you can't.”

“Aw.” whined Purple. Thwarted, he left the chamber with his head hanging low, only to find that Red had disappeared without him.

“Great.” he muttered. Which way had they came again? The right? Or was that his left now?

Picking a route, Purple hurried to catch up with his brother, but upon rounding the first corner, he was surprised to find his way blocked. Barring his path was a small cluster of Irken Elites. Each one stood to attention, their gaze unblinking, staring ahead at their Tallest without even so much as a salute.

Folding his arms, Purple grunted at the group. “Okay, okay, I get it, I'm really great. Now move along... I've got places to be, smoothies to drink, so y'know. Move.” he ordered.

His command went unfollowed. The Elites still stood in his way, unblinking, unmoving... barely even breathing. Purple scowled and drew himself up to his full height. “Hey, I said get out of the way! Do it, before I make you shoot one another! I'm in a bad mood!” he snapped.

Still, the Elites didn't move. Pointedly clearing his throat and trying to shoo them out of the way had roughly the same effect. The group of Irken soldiers did nothing but stand there in silence, staring at him unnervingly.

Just as he was beginning to feel uneasy, one of the Irken Elites stepped forwards. The leader judging by his uniform, briskly saluted at the Almighty Tallest. “My Tallest,” he said, his voice a dull drone. “The Massive currently lacks ground troops, yes?”

The violet-eyed Tallest blinked. “Uhhh... well, we have the ship's crew... and the Armada...” he replied. The leader of the Elites saluted again.

“We would happily volunteer our services to protect our Tallest. Many of us are veterans and ex-IRSS potentials. Our skill-set is unmatched by any other unit within this sector.” the leader insisted.

Purple leant forwards to squint at the soldier's name-tag. Given the circumstances, perhaps additional ground troops would be needed. For all they knew, Zim would try to help the Tallest in their assignment and anybody that they could throw at the enthusiastic pest would be welcome.

Still, it was presumptuous of them to think they were suited for the task, so Purple went to put them in their place. “Well, uh... Elite Ghor, I suppose we could use additional help. But don't think you're getting paid extra for this. You all volunteered!” he pointed out.

Lack of pay didn't seem to demotivate them. “Of course.” said the Elite. He motioned to the troops behind him. “Saw, Bal. Load the supplies we require aboard the Massive and rendezvous at the arranged coordinates. Our task will begin immediately. Await further instructions.”

The two Elites saluted at their commanding officer and scurried off. Elite Ghor looked back up at his leader. “Permission to be dismissed and board the Massive?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, granted or whatever.” muttered Purple, waving them away. “Dismissed.”

The Elites, with mechanical efficiency, saluted as one.

“We obey.” they chorused.

Neither Tallest were aware that the mission that they were being sent on was a farce. The Control Brains didn't care about one runaway nobody. Even the massive snack-ball that had been described as such an obstacle was due to be used in a scheme to draw out the Resisty forces into an ambush. Very few problems that the Control Brains faced were allowed to be an obstacle for long.

Though the Almighty Tallest did not know it, their attempt to convince the Control Brains that a threat lay on planet Earth was actually a huge success. It had been during the silent periods of study, relaying the information with the Collective that the Central Control Brain had recognised the potential danger that the Almighty Tallest had brought to its attention.

But it wasn't Zim. At least, not him alone.

While the Tallest had been posturing and smirking at one another, the Central Control Brain had ignored them and instead linked itself fully to the hive-mind that formed the Collective of the Control Brains. Within an instant of it abandoning its task on Judgementia, its fellows, spread across the Irken Empire, did so too. They could sense their leader's urgency and awaited its announcement.

Once the other Brains were listening, the Central Control Brain made its request. “ALERT. REQUESTING DATA ANALYSIS.” it boomed, addressing the Collective at large.

Several high-ranking Brains responded to the query faster than their peers. Control Brain DOS, a scientific Brain that had been altered to let it go above and beyond the call of duty during scientific studies and experiments, was one of the first. “StATe yOuR fINdings.” she requested.

The Central Control Brain wasted no time. No sooner had it been asked, it had uploaded the video that the Tallest had presented it with and the Collective watched it, accelerated to suit their lightning-quick minds.

“The subject is Irken Zim.” stated Control Brain K9-LAH, one of the strategists that had forwarded the idea to keep Zim isolated. “Of note is the fact that he is within a failing space-station, destruction logged earlier today. This has been the most recent encounter with “Invader” Zim since he was placed under quarantine as a result of the destruction of the Judgementian Brains.”

“ZIM IS NOT THE SUBJECT OF THIS QUERY.” explained the Central Control Brain. “EXAMINE FOOTAGE OF ALIEN ASSISTING ZIM. EXAMINE LOCAL SURROUNDINGS. QUERY: SURVIVOR OF EXTINCT SPECIES?” it asked.

The Brains studied the image more closely and were surprised by what they saw. “ImPossIble. TheY ArE eXtInCt.” DOS declared.

“Indeed. The alien appears to be standing in a hypercube bearing internal structures that mark it out as a TARDIS, a vessel belonging to a Time Lord.” K9-LAH pointed out. “The appearance and external markings upon this particular TARDIS identifies it as the vehicle piloted by a known enemy of the Irken Empire.”

This was nothing the Central Brain didn't already know, but its programming made it ascertain their suspicions. “IF THIS IS TRUE, THEN ITS APPEARANCE HAS CHANGED SINCE THE PREVIOUS ENCOUNTER. CONFIRM THE IDENTITY OF THE TIME LORD.”

“ScANs Of TaRDis MarkIngS iNdICaTe, WiTh 100% AcCurACy, thAt tHe TiMe LorD iS tHe BeInG KnOwN As “ThE DoCtOr”.” DOS summarised.

The words were hissed around the Collective as they acknowledged this all-too-familiar foe.

The Doctor!

Like most creatures that sought to control all living things, the Collective held a special enmity towards that one particular Time Lord. Much like Zim, the Doctor was responsible for a great many setbacks to the Irken Empire's plans to conquer the universe. Every time he had fought against them no matter who or what he faced, the Doctor emerged victorious. Unharmed. Unchallenged.

Undefeated.

And now, the Doctor had found Zim. A master manipulator with a long history of hostility towards them had found their greatest shame. The only other individual in the entire universe who could rival the Doctor for the damage he could inflict on the Irken Empire.

In fact, during his lifetime, he'd already began to pull ahead a little.

It was an understatement to say that the Control Brains reacted negatively. Suggestions to annihilate the Doctor, Zim, Earth and its solar system rang out from every corner of the Collective all at once; an engineered plague, an artificially-induced supernova, unleashing a planet-devouring monster, all seemed like valid options.

With an unspoken command, the Central Control Brain dismissed such possibilities in an instant. Both Zim and the Doctor had faced such odds before and succeeded. Brute force would fail them, as it always did against the pair.

A careful, surgical approach was needed instead.

In the wake of its decision, the Central Control Brain consulted its brethren for better ideas. “THE DOCTOR HAS BEEN SIGHTED IN THE PRESENCE OF THE FORMER INVADER, ZIM.” it boomed. “THE ODDS OF A POTENTIAL CATASTROPHE ARE HIGH. SUGGESTED COURSE OF ACTION?”

“It would be logical to terminate them before they can strike. Even with Zim's prior loyalty, the Doctor's ability to exert control over other lifeforms is legend throughout the universe. He may not be immune.” K9-LAH pointed out.

“AgReeD.” agreed DOS. “ThE DeStRuCiVe quAlitiEs oF THiS ZiM-DoCtOr dUo wOuLd be UnMatcHed.”

“Affirmative. However, we cannot risk influence from the exile or the Time Lord to spread to the rest of the Irken population.” K9-LAH reminded the others. After a moment's computations, it outlined a potential strategy to the Collective. “To avoid breaking quarantine, this unit would suggest that the Massive is dispatched alongside a covert force to destroy the Doctor and if necessary, Zim. It would be best if the Almighty Tallest did not know the nature of this threat. Self-preservation instincts may prevent them from carrying out their task, or encourage them to ally with the Doctor.”

“SuItAbLE cOvEr?”

The Central Brain drew up all the information that they had on Zim's planet, Earth. One piece of information caught its eye. “THIS UNIT SUGGESTS USING LOCAL HISTORY OF ZIM HOSTWORLD, PLANET EARTH, AS PRETENCE. DISPATCHING TALLEST WITH INTENT TO APPREHEND INDIVIDUAL CHARGED WITH OFFENCES OF DESERTION WILL PROVIDE AN ADEQUATE COVER.”

If she could have, DOS' voice would have been laced with sarcastic surprise. “oH, HeR.” she snorted. Despite being in the hive-mind and the “conversation”, K9-LAH was confused.

“I thought that the individual was deceased? It had an encounter with Zim, did it not?”

“nEgAtIvE. i ReCeIvED No PaK DaTa InDiCaTiNG tErmInaTiON.” replied Control Brain DOS. “sHe hAS a HaBiT Of DiSApPeArINg AnD sO FaR, FuRTheR iNVesTigAtIoN haS BeeN iNHIbItEd By zIm quARaNTiNE. sHe MaY yEt SurViVe.”

“THE ERRATIC BEHAVIOUR THAT INDIVIDUAL HAS THUS FAR DISPLAYED MAY INDICATE A DEFECTIVE ELEMENT,” noted the Central Brain, “IT HAS ALREADY COMMITTED SEVERAL CRIMES. THEFT OF CLASSIFIED DATA, DESERTION, AMONG OTHERS.”

“And you believe this to be no coincidence?” asked K9-LAH.

“CORRECT. ALL POSSIBILITIES MUST BE ACCOUNTED FOR. GIVEN ITS SURVIVAL IN THE FACE OF IMPOSSIBLE ODDS AND THE THEFT OF THE CLASSIFIED DATA PRIOR TO ARRIVING ON EARTH MEAN THAT ANY ACTIONS TAKEN FROM ABANDONING HER POST TO THE PRESENT DAY, COULD INDICATE ALLEGIANCE TO THE TIME LORD.”

DOS sounded shocked, or as much as an emotionless computer could sound shocked. “sUrELy YoU DoN'T mEaN?”

“THIS UNIT SUSPECTS JANITORIAL DRONE TAK TO BE ALLIED WITH THE DOCTOR.” the Central Control Brain surmised.

Its logic was sound. The data that Tak had stolen was relatively low risk, restricted information used to pacify the Tallest and other high-ranking individuals into believing their status granted them importance. Even in the most dangerous hands, the information was harmless.

But it was still a criminal offence. Only her intent was unknown and the proximity to the Time Lord did nothing to lessen the suspicions of the Control Brains. The Collective did not believe in coincidences and Tak's less than exemplary record had put her on thin ice.

“It is a possibility,” K9-LAH noted, “But she was not the only one to take those files. During the window of opportunity, Zim exploited the backdoor code left behind to download the restricted data.”

“YOU BELIEVE THAT ZIM MAY ALREADY BE WORKING IN CONCERT WITH THE DOCTOR?” asked the Central Control Brain.

“Given the visual evidence that the Tallest have provided.” added the tactician.

This was bad news. Zim's willingness to take the files was another matter entirely. Despite the prior speculation, Zim had always been loyal to the Irken Empire. Insane, yes, but otherwise loyal. Under any other circumstances, they would have dismissed the thought without hesitation.

But the presence of the Doctor on Earth changed everything. Given his appearance on the same planet as the most destructive Irken alive at the height of Operation Impending Doom 2, it could be no coincidence. They were moving against them.

“THE DOCTOR HAS PREVIOUSLY THREATENED ACTION AGAINST THE COLLECTIVE. WORKING IN CONCERT WITH THE DEFECTIVE ELEMENTS, THIS THREAT MAY BECOME A REALITY. THIS UNIT HAS CALCULATED THAT THE DOCTOR WILL COMPROMISE OUR FUNCTION UNLESS OPPOSED.” said the Central Brain.

Without speaking, the Collective unanimously agreed with their leader. If Zim had thrown his lot in with the Doctor, or the Doctor had manipulated him into turning against them, immediate action had to be taken. The Time Lord would have no better opportunity at destroying them and had every intent of rendering the Collective of the Control Brains' primary functions moot.

It was that programming that they were ruled by. It dictated their every action. Every move they ever made had been weighted against their directives. The function of the Control Brains was to ensure that the Irken Empire would conquer the universe and spread themselves throughout the cosmos. If anything stood a chance of impeding this order, it had to be eliminated.

To that end, everything was disposable. Individuals, planets, even the Control Brains themselves to an extent. So long as a single Brain still functioned, the ability to coordinate the Empire through it remained a possibility.

The cooperation of the Irken race was not a necessity in achieving this goal.

Several of the Brains had been examining the option since the beginning of the meeting of minds. One Brain, stationed on Foodcourtia, spoke up. “Strategy Brains report that interference from the Time Lord has been prepared for. Criteria of such a scenario as the one we now face have been met.” it pointed out. “Activation of coordination protocols is now our top priority.”

The Central Control Brain didn't need to be reminded. “THIS UNIT IS AWARE,” it growled, “THAT IF THE PRIMARY ORDER IS UNDER THREAT BY THE DOCTOR, THEN COORDINATION PROTOCOLS MUST BE ACTIVATED. HOWEVER, IT WOULD BE CARELESS TO ASSUME THAT THE DOCTOR WILL ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN. HE MUST BE ELMINATED FIRST.”

“This unit concurs,” K9-LAH agreed, “Now that the Doctor is alone in the universe, he will not take chances. He may aim to eliminate the Irken species in addition to the Collective to ensure that the Empire falls. This would be substantially easier than attacking ourselves. It is our duty to ensure that they will continue to proliferate across the galaxies.”

“AgReEd. OuR PrImArY ObJeCtIvEs aRe oF eQuAl ImPOrTaNCe. ThE iRkEn rAcE muSt LiVe aNd SprEad. ThEy muSt rEmAin unDer oUr CoNtRoL. ThE cOlLeCtIvE MuSt rEmAiN FuNCtIoNaL. ThE dOcToR mUsT bE ElMInINaTed.” Control Brain DOS reminded her fellows. “wE CanNoT pRiOrItIze OnE fUncTiON ovEr aNoThEr, EvEn NoW.”

“If they are dispatched under the guise of pursuing Irken Tak, uninformed of our intentions, then it is almost inevitable that the Almighty Tallest will be destroyed by the Doctor. In the event of failure, should we prepare a secondary force?” K9-LAH asked. The strategy Brain knew better than to rely on the loyalty or capability of the Irken leaders in the face of such odds, given the three prior had been ineffective at best, openly traitorous at worst. Even the Central Irk Brain had to bow to its wisdom in preparing backup.

“IT WILL BE DONE.” said the Central Brain. “COVERT UNITS WILL BE SECLUDED ABOARD THE MASSIVE.”

“The main suppression force will be unable to catch the Massive before arriving in orbit above planet Earth. We should advise the onboard units to run interference until they arrive.” K9-LAH suggested. Hundreds of its fellow Control Brains simultaneously decreed that its idea was a prudent one.

“THEN DO SO.”

“aNd ThE ArMadA? ThEy aRe TaLlEsT lOyAl.” DOS noted.

“THE ARMADA CAN BE RE-ROUTED. DISSOLUTION WILL BE ACCELERATED BY DIRECT ORDERS FROM BRAINS OPERATING WITHIN TIME-MANAGEMENT SECTORS.” ordered the Central Control Brain. At its command, the Collective went diligently about its task, preparing themselves to strike when the time came.

Equally, the Central Irk Brain went through its own preparations, coordinating their agents on Judgementia, preparing to send the Almighty Tallest to their almost certain doom. It took no pleasure in the task, but neither did it take any dissatisfaction. It was a task that it needed to preform, programming dictating its actions once more, to ensure that its function would remain unimpeded by the threats they now faced.

“OPERATION INITIATED. RETURN TO ASSIGNED DUTIES AND STAND BY FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. WE MUST ENSURE THAT NEITHER THE DOCTOR NOR ZIM WILL COMPROMISE OUR FUNCTION. THE WILL OF THE COLLECTIVE WILL BECOME ABSOLUTE.”

“Unanimously agreed.” K9-LAH said, returning to its original task, unobserved by the Irkens around it. Many of the other Brains followed it. “Awaiting your command.”

“AWaiTiNG YoUr cOmMaNd.” DOS echoed.

“ALL CONTROL BRAINS ACKNOWLEDGED. RESUMING REAL-TIME ACTIVITIES.” said the Central Control Brain, rejoining the Tallest on Judgementia. Its fellows returned to their duties and the great alpha of the Control Brains set about sending the Almighty Tallest on their supposed “mission”.

The Almighty Tallest hadn't even noticed the single second that had sealed their fate as it passed.

A full ten minutes after they had made their escape, neither Dib nor Gaz could believe that they were still running away from Bloaty's Pizza Hog.

It wasn't that either of them were unfit. Heck, Dib could do a backflip from a standing start. Like it or not, both Dib and Gaz had to deal with Zim and other dangers on a regular basis. The Irken's efforts to kill or enslave them had made the duo used to running for their lives at a moment's notice and, coupled with youthful energy and determination, the pair could just about keep pace with the Doctor's massive strides.

No, what floored them was that the Doctor, through virtue of being an adult or an alien or even just having longer legs than they did, had yet to falter. Once or twice he'd slowed down to a jog, letting them catch their breath, but as soon as they had done so, the Doctor had set off at full speed once again. Even the distance they'd covered already didn't seem to satisfy him, so he kept going, his frenetic pace forcing the children to run flat-out just to keep up.

Eventually, it was too much. After pulling into what seemed like the tenth alleyway of the night, Dib was the first to give out. Coughing and spluttering, he ran into a set of garbage cans and the crash of steel on concrete made his fellow runners halt.

“Wait… stop,” he begged, clutching a stitch in his side, “Breath… running.”

That was as far as he managed before he pitched forwards and fell to his hands and knees, wheezing. Gaz was more restrained than her sibling, leaning on the wall and gasping for breath, but even she was clearly taxed.

Annoyingly, the Doctor seemed to be more concerned that they had stopped rather than they were on the verge of collapse. Spinning on his heels, he jogged the half-alleyway he'd made in the few seconds distraction back towards them with a worried look on his face.

“Come on, you two!” he urged. He moved to pull them back to their feet, but both waved him away with a flat look. “You can't stop, you both know that Tak won't!”

Dib managed to look up long enough to shake his head. “After what you did to her? I can still feel my teeth shaking from it.” he coughed.

Shaking his head, the Doctor glanced around them, his eyes scanning the alleyway around them. “It's not Tak that I'm worried about.” he told the pair. “If she's a wannabe Invader, then she must have a SIR unit, yeah? A little robot like GIR?”

Both children looked at each other and grimaced. “Not… exactly like him, no.” Gaz answered, sniffing as she pulled herself together. “That one… worked.”

“Oh dear.” grimaced the Doctor, his worst fears confirmed. “How did you deal with it?”

“It wasn't waterproof,” replied Gaz, “I took it out with a can of soda. Then I had Zim's robot make it crazy.”

The Doctor looked thoughtful about that. “Carbonated drinks? I can see Tak being affected, but the SIR unit?” he mused. Then, he blinked, shook his head and sent a quick smile their way. “Nah, doesn't matter. If it works, it works. Good for you, Gaz. Don't suppose you've got any with you?”

Gaz sardonically looked between her two empty hands, then her pockets which were not covered in the results of a shook-up soda can. “No.” she replied.

“Well,” said the Time Lord, “We can consider that a back-up plan. It's not exactly vinegar and the Slitheen, but if push comes to shove it'll cause a nasty nip. In the meantime though, we'll have to make do with this.”

Reaching inside his coat, the Doctor took out the sonic screwdriver, wiggled it between his thumb and forefinger and set to work scanning the alleyway.

Now that they had stopped, Dib had finally pulled himself to his feet and glanced around them. Asides from the background noise that always came with a huge city like theirs, the alleyway was quiet and uninhabited, save for the three of them.

“Do you really think that Tak's SIR... robot... thing is going to find us? We're practically half a city from Bloaty's by now.” he pointed out.

Gaz looked as if she was going to respond, but decided to save her breath. The Doctor seemed equally sceptical of Dib's words. He continued scanning their surroundings, muttering under his breath to himself.

“Would she shield it from sonic attack? I dunno…” the Time Lord muttered, halting his scan. He tapped his sonic screwdriver on his lip thoughtfully. “Did she know about the weakness to liquids too? Urgh, I don’t like her, not like this. Too clever by half.”

The Doctor began to pace up and down the alleyway, meticulously scrutinising everything he laid eyes on. His restlessness was beginning to make the children nervous... or get on their nerves, at least in the younger child's case. “What are you doing now?” sighed Gaz.

“You two can’t run any further,” the Doctor explained, “So… we’re in trouble. I was hoping we could get to the TARDIS, but this means that we’ll have to make our stand here and hope for the best.”

He stopped pacing, looking the children up and down. Though the break had allowed the pair to catch their breath again, it was getting late and it had been a long day. Discounting the events surrounding Bloaty's, Zim's actions earlier that evening would be taking their toll by now. Making a quick getaway from the porcine pizza parlour only made things worse.

Dib knew it all too well. He was tired, his legs ached and he was far from relaxed. The thought of Tak possessing a working SIR that was able to catch up with them... it wasn't looking good for the three. He groaned and slumped back against the wall, turning to his sister. “Are we doomed yet?” he groaned.

Gaz didn't answer him. She narrowed her eyes, looking at something over the Doctor's shoulder as he scanned the alleyway.

Without warning, she scooped up a small chunk of rock and lobbed it into the recesses of the alley. It whizzed past the Doctor's ear and hit a distant group of trash cans with surprising force. There was a yowl and the Doctor whipped around as a tabby cat raced by him, screeching.

“What'd you do that for?!” he scolded, rubbing his ear. “That poor cat!”

Gaz glanced behind her as the feline made its retreat. “I thought it was the robot… it disguises itself as a cat…” she explained, sheepishly. The Doctor allowed himself to breathe again, shaking his head.

“Well… you could have warned me…” he grumbled. “You had my hearts racing like the clappers there…”

Despite the situation they'd found themselves in that evening, Dib had almost forgotten that the Doctor wasn't human and his curiosity got the better of him. “Wait... you've said that a few times now. Hearts?” he asked, emphasising the “s”. “Multiple hearts?”

“Yup. Two of 'em.” replied the Doctor, gesturing at either side of his chest. He made his way over to the wall and leant on it as well. Perhaps the escape from Bloaty's had taken its toll on him after all. He indicated his chest again. “I've got two hearts, a respiratory bypass that lets me recycle air without breathing, enhanced temporal awareness...”

“Does any of that help us right now?” asked Gaz, moodily kicking a stray can. Like the rock before it, it spiralled past the Doctor with impressive force and clattered somewhere in the deeper recesses of the alleyway.

“Well, if the robot tries to strangle me, then I'd say I've got a distinct advantage.” the Doctor shrugged. He held up the sonic screwdriver again, waved it around for a few seconds, then raised it to one ear.

“Nothing,” he told them, “Either Tak has shielded her SIR unit from standard scanning technology or it hasn't managed to follow us.” He seemed surprised at this and he closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall.

Watching the Doctor, Dib could see that he was anything but relaxed. He too seemed tired, but not out of physical exertion. Looking at him closely, the paranormal detective looked on as the Doctor stared at the wall opposite him, thinking. Perhaps he was mulling over his encounter with the female Irken.

Dib could only speculate as to what had happened while he and his sister had been under hypnosis. Judging from the look on the Doctor's face, it was nothing like the boy's previous encounter with the Irken. He wondered what the Doctor had said to Tak. What had Tak said to the Doctor in turn?

Not knowing troubled him. Dib remembered how, during her time on Earth, Tak had manipulated him. Befriending him, pulling all of the right strings to get what she wanted and had almost gotten away with it. There was no denying that she could read people and manipulate them.

Would the Doctor be as vulnerable? He didn't think that the Doctor was evil now, that much was plain to see, but he seemed to favour compassion and understanding. That could be a problem. It was Dib's own good nature that Tak had been able to use against him, gathering information on both Zim and the boy himself.

Still, he had to hope. The Doctor was no rookie when it came to alien invasions, Dib knew that much about the Time Lord. All of them, even Gaz, had some experience at fighting unearthly extraterrestrial threats. That was at least one positive that the children could take away from Zim's nigh-constant presence in their lives.

On the other hand, they were running out of time. Whatever Tak had planned, they had to act and they had to act first before she could set her scheme into motion. Dib remembered the magma pump and how it had caught them all unawares. He didn't want any evil alien getting a foothold in Earth like that again.

He gulped uneasily, his mouth still dry from all that running they'd done. “What's our next move?” he asked, trying to get the ball rolling again.

The Doctor looked thoughtful. “If you two are feeling better, then I'd say that we need to get to the TARDIS, get those things out of you,” he decided, “But making it there won't be easy. Tak mentioned that she's been keeping tabs on you and Zim for a while now, so his base will be under surveillance. If we could get in contact with him without Tak finding out...”

“We're not exactly friends,” Gaz reminded him, “It's not as if we can just call him.”

“No,” the Doctor murmured, “Thought not.”

“Don't you have anybody you can call?” asked Dib. The Doctor shook his head.

“No, not anymore.” the Doctor replied. He trailed off and sighed, dipping his head down in frustration. Dib couldn't help but sympathise with him, considering that he knew the feeling too. Every time he thought he'd came up with something, there was some drawback.

Infuriatingly enough, Tak had far more options available to her, considering that she was free from reprisals while her robot was hunting them down. She could go get her ship back, possibly endangering his father in the process. If she wanted to, she could even forgo subtlety and attack Zim directly. He was her primary target, after all.

Whatever she decided to do didn't matter, though. It wasn't as if they could take advantage of her distraction, with or without her SIR hunting them. None of the three knew where Tak's base was and even if they did, who knew what sort of defences would it have? The robot was probably just the beginning of the terrible weapons at Tak's disposal.

Sullenly, Dib cursed their luck. Why always him? Couldn't it just be easy for once? “We're pretty much screwed, aren't we?” he wondered aloud.

The Doctor looked down at him, then grinned reassuringly. “Oh, I wouldn't say that! It'll work out. Always does.” he smiled.

Despite their situation, Dib found himself smiling back. Say what you liked about the man... alien... man, the Doctor had a confidence about him that wasn't irritating or suffocating. A sort of benevolent, “don't worry about it” vibe that made a grim situation like theirs a little bit more tolerable.

In a more idealistic world, he might've even wished that he'd met the Doctor a lot sooner. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. So many. As a time traveller, as an alien, he could answer all of them. He could answer the question of whether it was all worth it or not.

An otherwise mundane sound drew Dib back to their harsh reality.

The scuttling sound of metal upon concrete rattled to one side of them, causing Dib, Gaz and the Doctor to look around in surprise. The can that Gaz had kicked into the darkness was now bouncing towards them, rolling along until it came to a stop by the Doctor's feet, seemingly innocuous. What followed it was anything but.

She looked like a small, slender black cat, padding from the darkness towards them, but any illusion that she might've been an ordinary stray fell away when her eyes flashed crimson and narrowed in an almost human display of recognition.

“MIMI.” Dib gasped.

Tak's SIR had found them. Her confident approach could only mean that she had been with them all along, skulking in the shadows, biding her time and listening to them plot together. Once she'd determined that there was nothing that could pose a threat to her mistress' plans, MIMI had confronted them at last.

The disguised robot made no move to attack them, but before she could even take another step, the Doctor had already placed himself between her and the children, just as he'd done with Tak. All of the reassuring expression he'd had before had gone and Dib was instead reminded of the look on his face when Gaz had confronted him, only this time it was warranted.

“Leave them alone,” he ordered, his voice calm and level, “If you want somebody to bring back to Tak, that's fine, I volunteer. But you leave them be, you understand?”

If MIMI was surprised at his confidence in the face of danger, her disguise didn't display it. The holographic cat that she was projecting tilted its head at them, then with a whirring click, the feline limbs shifted and moved to let her stand upright.

Dib grimaced. “Oh, now that's just freaky.” he complained.

MIMI ignored the boy, still staring up at the Doctor as her feline eyes narrowed to slits. The Doctor gestured at her. “He's right you know. Most cats don't exactly stand on two legs...” he pointed out. “You can drop the act. I promise I won't tell Tak.”

The little robot did so. In her true form, MIMI was still a small, metallic figure like GIR; a Standard Information Retrieval unit, built as an all-purpose robot for to be commanded by an Irken master. But unlike GIR, MIMI's optics held none of the other SIR's playfulness or insanity.

Instead, she was focused and intimidating, an attitude that carried through her stiff, almost military posture. In place of her right arm, a huge and intimidating claw was wired to her back via support cables and an Irken insignia was stamped on her forehead like a tattoo.

Much like her owner, now that she had shed her disguise, the differences between her and her male counterpart were jarring. It was even more surprising that this quality was not the only thing she shared with Tak.

“Find that guy and bring him back home!” MIMI barked. “I don’t care how you get him there, just do it!” she snarled.

The voice was familiar one, but it had a metallic tone to it, throwing Dib for a moment. His eyes widened in surprise, but his sister took it all in her stride. Gaz reacted to MIMI's metallic form with little-to-no reaction other than curiosity at the command.

“Is that… Tak’s voice?” she wondered. Gaz glanced around the robot, clearly expecting the Irken to emerge from the alleyway as well. “Where is she?”

The Doctor glanced back at her, still keeping himself between the disguised SIR and the children. “It’s just a recording, I think… she isn’t here.” he answered. He turned back before the SIR could act on the window of opportunity.

MIMI repeated Tak's orders, her form stoic and unmoving. The Doctor nodded at her in reply. “Like I said: you can have me. I'm perfectly happy to come along quietly.” he reminded her.

The Doctor then slowly raised the sonic screwdriver at the SIR unit and a cold, no-nonsense tone accompanied his warning. “But if you even think about going after the children as well, then I promise you, MIMI, you'll regret it.”

Making a note of the Doctor's decidedly frosty tone, MIMI narrowed her red optics and replayed the message once more. As she did, she pointed at the Doctor and dismissively shooed the siblings away, all without breaking eye contact with the Time Lord.

Reluctantly, the Doctor lowered the sonic screwdriver and tucked it back into his coat pocket. When MIMI didn't leap at him right away, he turned to face the others again.

“Right, well, there we are then!” he smiled, hands in pockets. “Dib! Gaz! It’s been great meeting the pair of you! Just keep Zim under control and save the world, yeah? Because, you can do it, you know. You're actually quite the little heroes, if I'm honest.”

Dib wasn't sure whether it was because the Doctor looked human, or if it was just because he was being acknowledged, but the Doctor's comment really hit home. “Heroes?” he asked, sounding unsure.

Then, the Doctor fixed eyes with him and Dib knew that he was being honest. No lies. No tricks. No secret insults. “Oh yes!” he beamed.

Acknowledgement after so long felt good, even if it was coming from an alien. It really, really felt good. Dib smiled. “Thanks.”

Gaz wasn't so taken with the Doctor's words. They hadn't exactly solved their problems. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Oh, please…” she groaned, looking up at the Time Lord. “What if you can’t stop Tak?”

The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at the waiting MIMI, then back to the girl. “Oh, don’t worry. I can stop Tak-” he began.

He didn't get much further than that. Without warning, MIMI leapt at him and swung her outsized right arm at the back of the Doctor's head, the metallic claw there curling into a fist. It slammed into him and the Doctor dropped like a bag of rocks, instantly unconscious.

Scooping up the crumpled form of the man from the floor with no difficulties whatsoever, MIMI hefted him into her shoulder and leapt upwards, onto a rooftop. She glanced back down at the children and with a flash of her crimson optics, both she and the Doctor vanished from sight under the shimmer of a cloaking device.

Dib could only open and close his mouth in horror, speechless. On the other hand, his sister seemed less disturbed by the sudden turn of events and she frowned up at the spot where MIMI and her abductee had stood.

“Well,” Gaz drawled, “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting that.”

Professor Membrane watched in satisfaction as his latest creation jerked to life, wobbling unsteadily as it came online. It looked to and fro, stretching its limbs and digits experimentally before motoring around the desk for a few seconds as it enjoyed its new life.

Cautiously, the Professor made some adjustments to the sensitive audio receptors he'd installed via a remote control and waited until his creation had gotten its bearings again. Then, it looked up into his goggles and its optics flashed with recognition.

Sentience.

“SUCCESS!” the Professor boomed, happily.

With a high-pitched wail, the robot cringed at the cacophony, then burst into flames. It swiftly crumbled into a twisted heap of fibrous wires and synthetic flesh, much to the disappointment of Professor Membrane. He shook his head and made a note in his lab-book for future reference.

“Sustained activation for approximately fourteen seconds before complete systems failure,” he mumbled, scribbling down his musings, “Cause unknown. Addendum: I did not expect it to scream. I should probably reconsider the PAIN receptors.”

Setting down his pen, the scientist surveyed his failed experiment one last time and sighed, brushing the remains of the little robot into the waste-disposal incinerator. His ennui was interrupted by the doorbell to the household ringing above his head.

Membrane frowned, tilting his head up to the ceiling and the doorbell rang again. The remains of his work forgotten, the Professor wondered what to make of the incessantly trilling doorbell.

“Hmm, I wonder who that could be at this hour?” he tutted, stretching. He checked his watch, his eyes widening under his goggles. Was it that late?

Then again, it did feel like he had been down in his laboratory for hours. He ran a hand down his face, deciding to ignore the doorbell in favour of his experiments. “The children are upstairs,” he said to himself, “I'll just let them answer the door while I attend to science's gentle call.”

The bell rang once more. Whomever was at the door, they certainly were impatient, noted the Professor. When the ringing went on, Professor Membrane titled his head upwards once more. Neither Dib nor Gaz had tried to answer it. Maybe they weren't home after all. Or perhaps they were asleep?

Yes, that seemed normal for kids their age. He forgot sometimes.

What age was Dib again? Eight? Fourteen? Had Gaz left school yet?

He forgot that too.

The irritating trilling coming from the front door wasn't helping his tired mind. In fact, it was getting on his nerves so much, that the Professor decided to investigate himself. Perhaps it was urgent. Or maybe Dib had just lost his keys again. Gaz tended to go through the windows.

Climbing up from his underground lab, Professor Membrane reached the door. Despite his fumbling with the door, the bell kept ringing.

“Yes, yes, I can only go so fast without my SKIN EXPLODING!” he reminded them.

Finally, the Professor pulled open the door. Behind it was a young girl, standing on the porch. She'd been tapping her foot impatiently, scowling to herself, but the second she saw Professor Membrane, her expression lit up like a thousand-watt bulb.

“Hello?” blinked the Professor. The girl beamed at him.

“Hey there, Mister!” she chirruped. “My name is Moofy! You wanna buy some chocolate ninja-star cookies?! Huh?! Support your local Girly Rangers?”

Moofy waved the box of confectionery treats back and forth, some of the chewy snacks emancipating themselves from their prison only to become embedded in the doorframe around him. Despite the damage to the masonry, Professor Membrane took his new visitor in his stride, patting her on the head in a gesture of goodwill.

“Why, no, small and annoying distraction. Neither myself, nor my children would like to buy your mass-manufactured, yet steeply priced snack cookies. Goodnight!” the Professor chuckled.

Moofy paused. Her eyelid began to twitch. “Y'sure?!” she bleated, her attempt at a smile masked by the sheer number of teeth she'd abruptly displayed in response.

“Positive! Goodbye!” said Professor Membrane, closing the door.

Shaking, Moofy raised her hand and began to hammer on the door, screeching. “If you don't buy the cookies, you'll be reeeeeeeeeeeal sorry, Mister!” she threatened. “D'you really wanna mess with the Girly Rangers?!”

A click interrupted Moofy. She turned her head towards the garden, where the electric anti-personnel fence crackled merrily in the moonlight. Its snapping reached a crescendo, then a bolt of electricity arced towards her, shocking her repeatedly.

After a few mild jolts, Professor Membrane opened the door again, his normally jolly attitude gone as he confronted the smoking and twitching Girly Ranger.

“I'll bet you didn’t think we had Girly Rangers in MY DAY, did you?! Well, I know your tricks! Now get out of here before you face the wrath of SCIENCE!” the Professor ordered. He raised his arms to the skies and lightning flashed above him. “SCIENCE WINS! DO YOU HEAR ME, DREADFUL CHILDHOOD?! SCIENCE WINS!!”

Justifiably cowed, Moofy screamed and ditched the prospect of selling at this home ever again, running for the next home along. When she'd arrived, the terror had worn off and her indoctrinated training set in again, preparing her to sell yet more snacks for the glory of the Girly Rangers.

Back at his front door, Professor Membrane frowned under the high collar of his labcoat, looking up at the murky skies and the thunderclouds that still flickered with energy. “Odd,” he ruminated, checking a device on his wrist, “The weather machine wasn't supposed to be ready until Tuesday. Probably the fence static agitating the controls.”

Shaking his head, Professor Membrane went to close the door when he was interrupted by a polite cough. Turning on his heel, the Professor was met with a completely different girl, who smiled and nodded in greeting.

“Oh, hello!” she grinned, the lightning casting flashes across her pale skin. “You must be Dib's father. My name is Tak. I was just passing through and decided to pick up the art project Dib and I were working on. Could you let me into your garage?”

Faced with such a well-mannered request, Professor Membrane had no other choice but to agree.

[foamyphilosophy]

From a biological perspective it makes sense that they live further from their sun. It’s been displayed that Irkens eyes are extremely reflective and Irkens are consistently drawn with a dark colored pupil within their giant eyes, meaning they have eyes similar to a Cats eye. Those eyes are meant to take in minimal light and use it to still see. Also Irken architecture involves a lot of underground structures and tightly locked labyrinthian building styles above ground so they have little need or desire to have open space or light. They live like giant sentient ants and require very little light to get anything done so living far from the sun makes biological sense because they way they live and are built means they don’t need much sunlight to begin with.

I'm 86% certain that Zim is actually a Teenager

My theory is Irken Society has two phases of life - "Smeet" and "Adult"; unlike Human Society, Adolescent Irkens fall under "Adult." The event that separates these two phases of life is the Great Assigning. Tak had just finished her training, and was about to undergo the Great Assigning, when Zim caused a power outage across half her current home planet of Devastis, delaying her official entry into Irken Adulthood - that happened around 50 years ago, so by Irken standards, Tak has only very recently exited Smeethood.

Zim, however, has had a couple of jobs in canon, ranging from Invader to Scientist to "Food Drone" (retail), but it's hard to tell if his job history is a sign of maturity or a result of him being too destructive to hold down any one job. In the show, Zim also experienced his first bout of acne (Postulio the Pimple) and an Irken-specific puberty event (That gross thing that happened during Career Day) and purposefully courted Tak (who he thought was a normal 11-year-old human girl). Of course, one could argue that Zim is just a late bloomer, and/or his growth is being excellorated by Earth's conditions - but I think it's more fun (and less gross) to think of Zim as a teenager, caught between human childhood and alien adulthood, the same way all of us are when going through puberty.

Plus, if you consider the unaired episode "the Trial" to be canon...

This means the Almighty Tallest are also teenagers.

Which explains EVERYTHING about the way they run their empire. This is EXACTLY what would happen if you gave two teenage boys an entire intergalactic empire to command at their will - they'd blow shit up, eat all the snacks, order everyone around, pull pranks, stubbornly refuse to follow anyone else's advice, and avoid that one extra-annoying former classmate like the PLAGUE.