“There is NO way that’s a healthy weight for Irkens!” shuddered Amy.
“I can’t claim to be the greatest authority on Irken physiognomy,” replied the Doctor, “but that’s just obese from what I could glean of their species.”
“This Irken doesn’t look like much of a threat,” remarked Lurra Rus. “Unless he took some cues from the Hutts.”
“He’s drooling, though,” observed Dib. “Is he in a coma?”
“It looks like it,” observed the Doctor. “…Gross though this is, I need to examine his PAK.”
“You’re not gonna climb all over him, are you?” asked Dib.
“Not the most pleasant of prospects, but necessary,” shuddered the Doctor. She then climbed up the 800-pound Irken all the way to a grey metal backpack with pink circular panels. She pointed her sonic screwdriver at it and the biggest panel slid open to reveal a status screen. “All right, let’s see if I can access the mnemonic archive.”
“The what?” asked Amy.
“Irken PAKs serve as a secondary brain, life support, and multitool,” explained the Doctor. “They’re cybernetically grafted onto an Irken’s spine when they’re hatched. Mnemonic archives hold all the Irken’s memories.”
“And you’re trying to access it,” realized Lurra Rus, “to figure out why he’s so big and in a coma.”
“Exactly,” confirmed the Doctor. The status screen then changed. “AHA! Here we are! …Okay, so he started as an Invader, accidentally invaded his homeworld of Irk, was reassigned to be a fast food drone on Foodcourtia, then…hang on, he ended his banishment himself? That’s the action of a defective, not an Invader. …Let’s see…oh my word. A Florpus hole?! And…oh my!” The Doctor switched the status screen off. “…He’s killed the Twin Tallest? …Then the Irken Empire is leaderless! …No wonder!” The Doctor jumped down from the massive Irken. “Dib, did he really move Earth like that?”
“Yeah, using my dad’s Membracelets!” replied Dib. The Doctor then approached Amy and Lurra Rus.
“A Florpus Hole,” she said, “is an artificial black hole that feasts on alternate timelines and realities. This Irken used the Membracelets to teleport Earth into the path of the Irken Armada during their flight path that formed the backbone of Operation Impending Doom II. The Irken here had one last call with his leaders, the Almighty Tallest, when they were puppets trapped in a dimension of fire after the Earth was restored to its proper place. Now, it seems, he realized he’s killed those he worshipped with such zealous fanaticism. Hence the food coma and obesity.”
“…Guilt!” realized Dib. “He’s wracked with guilt! No wonder he’s been so quiet!” Dib turned on the obese Irken. “So, your desire to please your leaders ended up with you killing them! Doesn’t rest well with your Squeedlyspooch, does it, Zim?!”
“Dib, there’s no reason to hang that over his head!” snapped the Doctor. “Even he deserves compa…wait, what did you say his name was?”
“What, Zim?” asked Dib. “Yeah, that’s his name.”
“…What year is this again?” asked the Doctor, worry furrowing her brow.
“Erm, 2025, why?” quizzed Dib.
“…Oh dear,” muttered the Doctor. “I need to check on the Irken Empire. Dib, have you entered the base proper?”
“Y-Yeah, it’s underground,” replied Dib. “Through the toilet in the kitchen.”
“…In the kit-?” The Doctor looked into the kitchen and, yes, there was a toilet in there on the far wall with a poster above it that said, “I eat food!” The Doctor blinked. “…Right then.” Dib showed the Doctor how the toilet was actually an elevator. The group then entered the lower levels. Unbeknownst to them, the security protocols were displaying the footage onto the TV Zim was currently opposite of.
The base proper consisted of the twisting, wire-laden technology that was a staple of the Irken Empire. The Doctor went to the main console and started fiddling with it. “Doctor, what are you doing?” asked Amy.
“Checking on a nasty theory,” replied the Doctor. “I’ll explain as it happens if it’s true. Aha, here we are! A direct line to Irk, the Irken homeworld!” She keyed in a command to call Irk. “Irken Base on Earth calling Irken Homeworld, requesting communication with the Control Brains, over.” An Irken then appeared on screen. This one had purple eyes, a cybernetic implant above her left eye, and curled antennae (the signature antennae of a female Irken). Dib gasped in horror.
“TAK!” he yelped. “But…but why the growth spurt?!”
“Ah, Dib, the human!” purred the Irken woman. She WAS taller than the average Irken. “A bit of reconstitution.”
“…I’m…flattered you remember me,” remarked Dib.
“I’ve heard of you,” muttered the Doctor. “Tallest Tak, the Terror of the Irken Empire. But I was trying to contact the Control Brains.”
“Who are you and how do you know about the Control Brains?” demanded Tak.
“I’m the Doctor, a Time Lord from the planet of Gallifrey in the Constellation of Kasterborous.”
“A Time Lord! I thought the Daleks rendered you extinct! No matter!” Tak smiled a wicked smile. “Tell me, are you aware of what happened to my predecessors?”
“I found out through his mnemonic archive that Zim opened a Florpus Hole and the Tallest were sent there.”
“Good. I can make the explanation shorter,” said Tak. “The sudden loss of our people’s figureheads caused the Control Brains to go into meltdown. Now they’re only useful for keeping the species going, not making decisions. As such, the Tallest have complete authority over the Empire, as they should!”
“So you took advantage of your growth spurt and became the new Tallest,” summed up the Doctor.
“The ALMIGHTY Tallest, thank you, Doctor!” corrected Tak.
Back in the living room, Zim watched the conversation go on. “Tak, I appreciate that you’re in a delicate position,” said the Doctor, “but Zim’s not dead. He’s simply in a coma and-!”
“Then he’s still on Earth?” asked Tak.
“Yes, but-!”
“Then he is no threat to me! My predecessors’ decision about that defective’s exile stands!”
“Tak, you don’t know the danger he’ll bring if-!”
“SILENCE!” shouted Tak. “Doctor, I will not obey the mad ramblings of the Last Time Lord! This discussion is at an end!” Tak switched the call off.
“Stupid woman!” snapped the Doctor. “If we don’t deal with Zim, then the greatest tragedy within the Irken Empire will take place!” As the Doctor ranted, Zim…snarled.
“…Computer…!” he weakly said. “Begin…cellular…reconstitution!”
“Yes, Master!” replied a voice.
“Greatest tragedy?” asked Dib.
“I’m afraid we’re taking part in historical events,” muttered the Doctor. “The Irken Civil War will begin if Zim leaves.”
“Doctor, what do you mean ‘Civil War’?” asked Lurra Rus.
“Without the Control Brains, the Irkens will devolve into factionalism and fight to recognize either Tak or Zim as the one true Almighty Tallest,” explained the Doctor. “Dib, I need you to monitor Zim! Tell me everything he does! He needs to remain in that coma!”
“Doctor, if it’s a historical event-!” argued Amy.
“It’s not supposed to happen until 2030!” replied the Doctor. “If he starts it now, there will be a temporal paradox to clean up!”
“I better head back up, then,” declared Dib. “Maybe I can trick GIR into helping out!”
“That’s the spirit! Off you go!” Dib returned to the elevator and went back up. The Doctor then started working the console.
“What are you doing?” asked Lurra Rus.
“I’m trying to add a subliminal message to Zim’s PAK,” explained the Doctor. “I need to tell him that he shouldn’t start claiming his Empire until 2030 as that’s when Earth will be at its weakest.”
“Will it?” asked Lurra Rus.
“No, no,” replied the Doctor. “But Zim won’t think about returning to his ‘secret mission’ until he’s secured himself as the Almighty Tallest.”
Dib returned to the kitchen and headed to the living room just in time to see the floor open beneath Zim! The couch Zim was using dropped down…then Zim got stuck! “Oh no!” gulped Dib. Zim heard him and moved his head as best he could.
“So, your Time Lord friend knows my future!” cackled the Irken. “It makes sense! The Tallest before me had sent me here…because they knew how much of a threat I was to their power! My genius would make the Irken Empire more powerful than ever before! I would create greater ships, even one more powerful than the Massive! I SHALL BE THE GREATEST TALLEST IN ALL THE EMPIRE!”
“None of that was predicted by the Doctor!” argued Dib. “And, right now, you’re the fattest!”
“That will change! GIR! MINIMOOSE! ASSIST ME!” GIR and a small, purple plush moose arrived and tried to shove Zim down!
“OH NO, YOU DON’T!” declared Dib as he leapt at Zim. Minimoose intercepted Dib and knocked him into a wall, then GIR brought out a comically large hammer.
“WAIT! GIR!” protested Zim. Too late. GIR smashed the hammer down on Zim and managed to get him into the chute beneath him!
“Cellular reconstruction will begin upon arrival,” droned the computer. “Estimated arrival time, 40 minutes. Estimated reconstruction time, 2 hours.”
