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VINDICATION	By : Florville Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 29601 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 65: Good Ship and True

THIS CHAPTER is dedicated to dramaelf!!! WELCOME BACK!

*****Disclaimer: Rambo: First Blood is copyright Miramax/Dimension films. I’m not making any money off of the reference.

*******Note: Since I can’t put this in my recommended reading section on aff.net, I wanted to recommend it here, where you guys could see it. This short story is very well-done, well-written, and has a unique take on the Dib/Zim suicide issue. I recommend it. It’s written by ForgottenAngel16, here’s the link: http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/23857908/

The meeting with his Science Officers had been over an hour long, and they had still come to no conclusion as to what could be done to save Dib. A truth serum that would work on Vortians had yet to be perfected, and a brain scan and progressive information removal wouldn’t be of any use either, because all of the codes removed from Munin’s mind would still be rendered in their complex Vortian form. He needed one of the prisoners to relent, to give in to torture or coercion and help him; however, it looked like he would have no such luck. It seemed these Vortian scientists preferred death and torture to aiding him. Munin had already died during one of the sessions, and several more of the prisoners were teetering on the fine line between life and oblivion.

Zim went to the sick bay, sitting down on the edge of Dib’s bed with a heavy sigh and resting his head in his hands. They’d been so close…he’d only just gotten Dib back, and now this…

“Don’t be sad, Master!”

Zim lifted his head, sighing as he looked down at his S.I.R. unit, who was dressed in Earth army camouflage with two ammo belts strapped in an X across his small metal chest. “GIR, what on Irk are you doing?”

“I’m RAMBO!!”

Zim’s antennae stood straight up and he blinked at GIR quizzically. “You’re what?”

“Look, Master, I’ll show you!” GIR went over to the view screen in the corner and flipped it on, playing with it until it was showing some strange Earth movie.

Zim rolled his eyes. Why was GIR so obsessed with Earth war movies? He got up and went over to turn the screen off, pausing for a moment. A scene was playing out where the Rambo human was sneaking into a camp and rescuing someone who had been taken prisoner. As the Rambo human and his friend ran towards a helicopter-thing, Zim spotted something on the prisoner-human’s back.

That was it!

Zim ran from the room, calling an emergency meeting.

*

On the Control Deck of The Massive, Zim stood before his officers, The Massive’s entire crew of over six hundred Irkens crowded around him.

“Now, I realize that I am not Tallest yet; and thus, I have no authority or right to command any of you.” Zim stated, standing at attention in the centre of the Control Deck. “But you all know what I stand for, and what awaits you when I am finally Ordained; and mark my words, I will be made ruler of the Empire.” He raised a fist. “Recognition, glory, and most importantly, fair treatment. No longer will the less Tall soldiers of the Armada be given placement on the janitorial squads with no chance for advancement! No more will service drones be demeaned and forced to work for next to nothing! There will be ranks assigned to those who are deserving, to those who have been faithful, who have earned honour for our great Empire!”

Zim waited until the applause and cheering had died down before speaking again. “You have all seen what I am capable of, and the treatment I wish to give to each and every one of you.” His voice was solemn. “But now is the time when I must make it clear to you, my brethren: until the day I am Ordained, I have no right to command you. And by following me, you are endangering your ranks, your prestige, your privileges as members of the Elite, and possibly your own lives.” He nodded to the crew. “Those who do not wish to risk those things may return to their quarters, and fear no harm so long as they do not interfere with myself or my mission. And when I am Ordained, those who chose not to participate will not be disciplined for their decision, as self-preservation is an instinct that is bred into us.”

Zim looked over the faces of the crew, seeing them all as his equals, rather than subordinates, friends rather than servants. They were just like him, and always would be. “The mission I wish to undertake is extremely risky, and in the grand scheme of things, has no relevance or importance to the Empire or its glory. It is only a personal quest.” Zim paused, taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Many of you know my partner. Many of you have met him and spoken with him. He is quite valuable to me, and because of the Vortian scum we have captured, he is dying. In order to save him we must find a Vortian who is both intelligent and willing to help. That is where the mission comes in. On planet Vort, there is one prisoner who will help me; however, he is heavily guarded, especially after helping me in the past. As I am not yet Tallest, I do not have the authority to order his release. Therefore we must retrieve him ourselves, without authorization. It is too risky to bring Red and Purple into the affair, as they will no doubt look for any opportunity to foul things up.” Zim sighed, shaking his head. “So now is the moment of truth. I need to know how many of you I can rely on to help me.” Zim stood straight, his shoulders back. “Any of you who do not wish to risk your rank, your privileges or your lives, are dismissed, and may return to your regular duties. The rest, I would ask you to remain here, so I may go over the plans for retrieving the Vortian prisoner 777.”

Zim stood silently in the middle of the Control Deck, watching the hundreds of Irkens before him. He watched for over a minute, his heart racing in his chest, as not a single one of them moved. That couldn’t be right. Surely there were a few who didn’t like him, a few who distrusted him! “Remember, you will not be punished for your decision, but you must decide now.” Zim’s voice was slightly earnest. “I cannot ask you to risk your lives for me; it must be your choice and yours alone.” Zim was silent.

A full minute passed before there was any movement. One of the Technicians, the one who had reprogrammed the voice controls of The Massive’s computer to recognize Zim’s commands, stepped forward, standing at attention and saluting Zim. “My Tallest.”

A group of fifteen more officers, ones that Zim had often relaxed and conversed with on the lounge deck after their shifts, stepped forward as well, saluting and repeating the address.

“My Tallest.”

In a matter of minutes, Zim stood before a loyal crew of over six hundred officers, standing at attention, saluting him respectfully.

“MY TALLEST.” The address was almost deafening, and Zim stepped back, almost staggering. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought it possible to command the respect of so many. He raised a shaky hand to his forehead, saluting them all.

“My crew.” Zim breathed. His antennae stiffened and he raised his head proudly. “At ease.” He nodded to the Technicians and Communications Officers. “Set a course for the planet Vort, and proceed at maximum speed. We have a prisoner to free.”
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VINDICATION