Chapter Text
The Voot cruiser, though minimal by Irken standards, was still a quick little ship. Dib and Zim has spent five months tinkering and upgrading it (with help from Gaz, though none would admit it), so that it was in much better condition than before.
Road trips, of course, were still aggravating.
“Would you KNOCK IT OFF!”
Dib groaned as Gir went through another rendition of ‘Row Row Row Your Boat.’ For the thirtieth time, actually. The fourteen-year-old was ready to disassemble the SIR unit. It was a marvel Zim managed to keep his patience.
Although. . .by the twitch of his antennae, it wouldn’t be for much longer.
Fortunately, the planet came into sight.
It wasn't much of a planet - more a, planetoid? It was remote and small, a hurtling rock that swirled around lazily, one side covered in long grass almost as tall as the few trees remaining on it. It was like some great monster had scooped out a forest from a planet and thrown it away.
It was also where their target was; Ekk'luh, a horned species tall and graceful with four eyes (five if it was the alpha).
Dib had to pry himself from the glass and tune back in as Zim grumbled, ". . . and that's why we must be stealthy, Dib-stink. STEALTHY! Understand?"
"Yep," he leaned back nonchalantly. "Like you said forty times before; they have superior vision, etc. Don't let the deer-people see you."
"They are NOT deer-people," Zim sneered, "they are Ekk'luh! And Zim will not be gored because of our foolishness."
"Then why even bring me along."
"Because they are too heavy; and I will need help with the corpse."
"Oh."
They parked the Voot on the underside of the planetoid; Zim even tying Gir to the chair with a toddler leash for good measure. The Robot giggled as he tried to pull against it, only to be consequently yanked back into place. It was all good fun to the SIR unit.
Irkin helmets activated, they climbed over the grassy crag, and weaved into the grass. They weren't foolish enough to think it would be easy, so they took every precaution they could.
It didn't take long to spot one; it was cool, almost minty colored, and blended in with the grass. With six legs it easily arched up, lifting the first two, and stretching a dark purple tongue to take the seeds out of the top of the grass (on closer inspection the large blades curled in and rose up like tubes; the top open, with the faintest bit of yellow peaking out.)
Their hooves were like deer hooves Dib had seen before. Although the antlers were something else. Graceful, twisting like curled bark, dark reddish-brown. They were thin, angling out and out like branches.
Then Dib caught sight of the thin, heavy tail, barbed at the end with something akin to porcupine quills. This was the danger, for they were long as Dib's forearm and thick as his pinky finger, made to spear and stab potential predators.
Zim grabbed his arms with his thin clawed hand, looking at him hard. With a tilt of his head, Dib nodded, and after a moment of hard staring, Zim scuttled silently into the grass.
It barely waved, as though hit by a breeze.
Dib readied his blaster - a gift from Zim, that they had both torn apart and gutted like all previous experiments, hashing it back together into a horrendous amalgamation, nothing like its previous self. It shot near-silent, blueish white beans (no, really; they were shaped like beans. It was weird.) The whine it made when it powered up was low compared to the human hearing range, rather than high.
Which is what most creatures reacted to.
With a flick it was on. He scooted closer and waited with baited breath.
The Ekk'luh suddenly turned, ears swiveling, and oh beans those were five eyes abort abort-!
Zim burst from the foliage silent and terrifying, eyes alight and pack legs gleaming, rushing down to stab and cut. The creature bellowed, swiveling in almost a cat-like fashion, maw opening as it hissed and showed sharp teeth.
Dib's body reacted before he could think; a rush and steady stream of shots, all aimed at the neck. When it turned towards the new threat (the middle, fifth eye bleeding where Zim had gouged it), he tilted his blaster down, and took shots at the paler chest.
It rushed towards Dib, tail lifted high in preparation to slam down on the offending human, when it stopped suddenly, one of Zim's pack legs shoved through the neck all the way through the throat.
Zim himself had claws dug into one of the few trees. "Hurry, Dib! Take the kill!"
It was beginning to buck and bray, which came out more like a hissing scream; even though it was dying slowly, it was still prepared to fight.
Dib aimed, squared his shoulders, and shot it in the heart.
Zim finally let go of the tree, wavering as he fell to the ground. He wearily flicked the blood off of his Pak legs before retracting him. "Well, Dib-stink. How do you feel about your first kill?"
Dib had collapsed where he stood. "Honestly?" He gazed at the body, remembered the exhilaration of the fight. He thought he would feel bad, maybe hesitant. But. . . he wasn't. Maybe it was because it wasn't a sentient creature. Maybe it was the morbid curiosity.
(Maybe he shared his Irkin ally's blood thirsty hunting instinct.)
Or maybe it was the scientist in him: willing to find answers no matter the cost.
Either way, he felt himself matching Zim's grin.
"Like I wouldn't mind doing this again."
"But, uh," he glanced back towards their trophy. "How are we going to transport it back?"
Zim shrugged. "We carry it. What else."
"Zim! That thing is like six-hundred pounds!!"
"So? With two of us it should be easy! I can usually lift three-hundred-thirty-nine pounds." Zim crowed, pushing out his chest proudly.
"I can barely lift a eighty!'
"WHAT! You, you - WEAK! Zim knew you were weaker than an Irkin but - how do you even propel your weak meat body???"
"I'm only a hundred and thirty pounds!"
"With THAT head?!?!?"
With that, they got to dragging their prey, bickering all the way.
Man, their friendship was weird.