A Simple Guide to Overthrowing an Empire

Reverse Engineering

"So he could..." Dib glanced around, the lights in the lab that still worked were flickering. "That's why you stopped me earlier."

"I sensed that his frustration was bordering on dangerous levels." the computer replied, "Now, what are you here to do, Irken Dib? You're here on behalf of the Tallest?"

"Y-yeah, I had no clue all of... that, I just, they, I was sent to retrieve Zim's old... projects? Weapons of mass destruction?"

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that."

"Why not? He's not using them, clearly."

"I was expressly instructed by the Master on multiple occasions to not allow his creations to fall into foreign hands."

"I'm not foreign, I'm—"

"You may be able to convince him..." The computer's tone changed, if Dib didn't know any better he'd say the AI was smirking. "If you can safely restore his memories."

"But you didn't back his PAK up," Dib stood from the chair he hadn't realised he'd sat down in. "Shouldn't he—"

"What were you encoded as? A scientist drone? Surely you know, then, that every PAK unit comes equipped with a recovery drive in the event of corruption or tampering?'

"I— yes, I just," Dib honestly hadn't known. Most of his work was on SIR units and other military weaponry. Nothing that had to do with the PAK. "Okay, okay, so I need to help you before I can finish my mission?"

"Unless you want to return to your precious 'Tallest' empty handed," The computer sounded spiteful, Dib almost didn't blame him, although every wire in his PAK told him to defend his leaders' will and honor.

"Fine," Dib grumbled, "Now how do we go about this without making him explode?"

~

"You're still here?" Dib emerged from the toilet in the kitchen. Zim glanced up, annoyed, but not to a deadly extent. "I thought you'd gone home."

Dib didn't know where to start. The computer had explained that this was a delicate, long process. It wasn't as simple as ripping Zim's PAK off and rebooting from the recovery drive. Zim wasn't a robot, so the process was more akin to stitching everything back together. Dib wasn't even sure if he should start the process immediately, but the sooner he got this done, the sooner he could get home.

"Are you just going to stand in the middle of my kitchen all day? Some doctor," Zim rolled his eyes, returning to his project.

"What are you... up to?"

Zim blinked, taking his sweet time to respond, "I'm working."

"On what?"

"What kind of 'doctor' are you anyway? You'd better not be one of those therapists."

"Just a— I'm not really a— I..." Dib racked his brain for an answer. Why didn't he do more research before coming to earth? Because you didn't expect to be here any longer than an hour, the voice in his mind snarked at him. "What's a therapist?"

"With all the questions you're asking, you might as well be one." Zim sighed, standing up from his project to address Dib. He still had to look up to make eye contact, but it was the thought that mattered. "Okay, therapist. What do you want to ask me?"

"What were you working on?"

"That," Zim pointed at Dib's stun gun on the kitchen table. "Next question."