"Very nice," he drawled, leaning back against leather. "Veeerry nice." So much violence—carnage—people dropping like flies: that's how it always began.

Ichabod's fingers curled around the arms of his chair. Nar's call had prompted him to observe (from a safe distance, of course—please, did these people give him credit, as head of the tournament?) the battle at Callnowia. Despite being unable, being a third party, to intervene in any Transportation, Ichabod was convinced recruiting contestants from this batch wouldn't be difficult at all. The Irkens had transported in the past—they'd even, like Jagger itself, sent their own people into the fray. The Vortians had bitterness, hypocrisy, on their side—good for ratings. Few realized ratings came from social dynamics—not just the killing.

Lard Nar had even promised him a new species.

A call stopped Lard Nar just as he was about to board a ship for Callnowia. They'd finally called it off after the better part of two days—the toll was too costly, on either side, and the soldiers couldn't keep this up. A cease-fire meeting was in order. Lard Nar assented to taking the call, however.

"What a show. Well, well done, Lard Nar." Ichabod. "Don't look so put out about how it all turned out—tying doesn't mean you necessarily lost, does it?" The Jaggerion smirked. "It's does my head good to see such enthusiasm—it's a good foreteller of the months to come. Now, what was the new species you wanted me to talk to the Jaggerion Embassy about?"

"There's no need," Nar replied, tone curt. "There was a complication with the operation. As much as I would have liked to take you up on that offer, the girl is already dead."

"...Hm. That's…unfortunate." He didn't appear extremely vexed. "At least both sides have enough potential to keep the tournament smoking, am I right?"

"...Sure. Unfortunately, we have a ceasefire meeting in a few minutes. Kind of important that I'm there. But there may be others in the next three months. I'll contact you if any show up."

"I look forward to it," Ichabod smiled. "Do keep in touch. Your rabble has me very interested." With a nod, he disconnected.

Lard Nar turned to his crew and a few of them boarded the waiting cruiser. "Let's get down there before the Tallest eat all of the relief packages…and before their people take all the seats." He tried to shake the feeling of inferiority Ichabod's tone had brought bubbling back to the surface. The fact that he was going to a ceasefire conference didn't help matters. …'Little rabble.' Please.

"Tenn…Zim…" Yelling was futile. My communicator was out—seemingly for good. I didn't know how much time had passed. Red dust in every direction. It was caked in my shoes, in my clothes, in my hair, my brain…my lungs…I coughed. It 'd been a while since I'd seen anyone; and the sky was clearer…maybe it had finally ended. Pain shot through my ankle with every step. I was thirsty.

"Gosh dang it, how do I get out of here?!" I stomped my good foot. Ruza…Was I crying again? Or was that sweat?...It was a million degrees.

No. That number was too large. Center-of-the-universe large. Wait…there's no sun there… Was Zim dead, too? The thought gave me a fifteen-second burst of energy. Was that the edge to a field? Was this a field?

That was the console. That big, metal thing. Zim wasn't driving. Stupid Zim, why aren't you driving?

Then, a voice. "…The almighty Zziimm!" About a hundred yards off…so far away. But at least there was something for me to walk towards. There was a screen on the other side of the console, that showed Purple. Zim was talking to him. Zim…heh. That's funny.

"Found you!" I yelled. They both turned and looked at me.

"Well," Zim chided, "it's about time!" Purple was saying stuff, too.

"…I need water." My voice came out in a croak. My head spun.

"It's been hours!" Zim complained. "Where's the other one?"

My heart plummeted.

"For Irk's sake, tell him before he has a seizure," Purple said to Zim.

Who was "he?"

Why was I suddenly sitting on the ground?

"For shame," Purple grinned at me as Zim ran off to go get something—probably popsicles. Those were good. "You're delusional. But I'm so glad you're all right. So…where's Ruza?"

Zim rounded the corner, Red following. I felt myself smile when I saw him, although my head still felt hot—everything on this planet was hot. Red's eyes lit up, a huge smile lit up his face, and he rushed towards me.

"He wouldn't listen to me." Purple frowned. "I told him going out there was dangerous. But no!"

Red wrapped me in his arms, holding me to him. The sudden movement from the ground left me dizzy…but now I was with the three of them—safe again. "I was so worried," Red whispered next to my ear.

"…I'm sorry." He must have been scared.

"You are never leaving the Massive again."

"…What?" That wasn't fair—I needed my docking days, too.

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. "You scared the life out of me! What on Irk did you think you were doing?!"

I shook my head. "I was just trying to…"

He kissed my cheek. I froze. "It doesn't matter." He met my eyes earnestly. "Never leave like that again." I nodded, struggling to breathe, unable to look away from him. He set me down and my ankle screamed. Automatically, I clutched his arm, and he wrapped it around me. "Come on." That was good—I didn't want to end up on the ground again. I looked back at the screen. Purple and Zim were waiting.

I stared at Purple, horrified. His expression sobered; and it slowly matched my own. "…What happened?"

Tears filled my eyes. Things blurred. I couldn't produce an answer. Somebody turned out the lights—put a shadow over us. That was the last thing I remember.

Lard Nar ascended the stairs to his plastic stadium seat. Hundreds lined the inside of the building. Medical tents had been set up. Some people were passing out food and drink. The faces were sober, haggard, and sometimes asleep. Lard Nar gazed around listlessly until his hearing picked up on a familiar, high-pitched voice.

Lard Nar couldn't see who was on the other side of Purple's conversation—just that he held a data pad. The Tallest's tone, however, was unusually casual. That, and the fact that Red wasn't here…and the fact that the voices sounded happy…

Lard Nar bolted upright in his seat. The rolling buzz of the Callnowian stadium filled his head. People, moving, everywhere. Injured. Hurt. Dead.

Slowly, he lowered himself back down, the odds of fifty-fifty the only thought at the front of his brain. Unwillingly, he released a breath, forcing himself to do it slowly.

Let's just finish this.

My dream had laughter. It sounded familiar, feminine; and while the dream was incoherent, it was happy.

I awoke to black wires against pink metal. I was on my back underneath a network of cords. When I looked beside me, a rolling stand with an IV confirmed my guess. A screen on the wall to my left displayed numbers. I'd seen this kind of room many times while visiting Dwicky in the medical ward.

The IV bag was filled with clear liquid…I'm surprised they went down to our floor to find it. It took me ten minutes to remember everything. The haziest parts, with the Tallest and Zim, led me to believe it was them who'd brought me back on board. But then…where were they?

"Ah." A nurse walked in. "Good, you're awake. I thought it would take a few more hours, with the fall you took and the dehydration."

"Thanks for the water…" My voice wasn't broken, but it was raspy.

She read the screen. "No problem. You took a lot of damage. That was incredibly foolish."

"…Yeah…"

"But the important thing is, you survived them." She entered a few things into the computer and turned. "I bet you want to know what's going on."

I sat up. "Yes—where is everyone?!"

"The Tallest are on Meekrob, at the ceasefire meeting. Those who aren't there are recovering, out there, or," she sighed, "here. A few are still flying around. Almost everyone's accounted for. We're actually helping clean up the mess on Callnowia…it's the first time we've done something like that in a while..." She shrugged. "But we obviously don't have room for them here."

"Wait…" Alarm shot through me. "How long have I been out?"

"About six hours."

"What? Six…!"

She nodded. "Sometimes negotiations can take days. There's no need to be concerned for their safety: they're protected, as always."

Except for when Red came to get me, I thought. "But if one side wants to start shooting again, who's to say it won't start up again?"

"Hannah, trust me, the loss of life is already record-breaking. Neither side has the resources to waste. All we're doing is agreeing on a set period of peacetime and any other minor negotiations we impose on each other. The Tallest will prevail." She started to make her way toward the door. "

"Wait!"

"I'm really very busy right now. I'll be back in an hour—just take your meds and try to relax."

"Ruza." The word escaped before I could think. The question lingered on my lips. Nurse became blurry. She slowly shook her head. I cried out, curling into myself.

"I'm sorry. I'll give you time…I'll be back in a little while." The door opened and shut. I forgot the room around me as the overwhelming emotion bowled me over. Eventless hours passed. I fluctuated between grief and curiosity as to what was going on now.

Two hours later, a source of information hovered in, looking more tired than I'd seen him in a while. Purple spoke. "I can't decide who looks worse right now, honestly. You look like…well." He sighed and lowered into a chair near my bed. "Like you got run over by a MegaDoomer."

"I'm okay. You look like you need…refreshment."

He shook his head. "That's the last thing I need." He made an attempt to meet my eyes. "The proceedings are over…obviously."

I gave him what I hoped was a sympathetic look. "And?"

Purple straightened slightly. "There was a lot of shouting, and cursing, and even throwing things…Don't look at me like that. Paper got signed. So, you know."

"What happened?" I prompted gently.

"There's going to be a…for Earth…a three-month ceasefire."

"You did the math for me?"

Purple looked like he was about to pass out. "You're welcome."

There was a long, long pause. The lights overhead hummed and the meaningless beeping of the console filled the silence. Purple's eyes were fixed on the ground, half-shut in tiredness. "…Purple." I leaned forward, speaking softly. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah," He returned quietly. "I know."

"…Purple."

He quickly wiped one eye. "What?"

"It wasn't your fault."

He was silent for another few seconds before he finally brought his hands up to wipe his tears. "Irk, but it was! If you'd been with us when Zim—"

"No," I insisted, pulling the covers off and moving my legs to the side of the bed. Pain shot through my ankle. "…Ah—!"

"No, stop!" He ordered. I winced, and met his eyes. Purple put a hand up, shook his head. " Just stay there. We don't need…"

" Okay…sorry."

He eyed the floor again. "I was going to be so happy to register you two…The Brains, at first, said you couldn't be…but…it wasn't just what you did on the Colossal. Things have changed..."

I frowned. "You talked to them about us?"

"I told them about the Colossal episode. They didn't want to let you stay, at first…but a lot of things have changed." Purple rubbed the back of his neck. "Our views on humans have changed. And a lot of things…" He took a breath. "I didn't know I would care this much."

"Purple…" His words touched my heart.

Another sigh. "If you two had just been in the room with us when…"

The door opened. Red hovered in, immediately locked eyes with me, and spoke. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay..." I eyed Purple. "It's him I'm worried about."

Red sat beside his counterpart and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Did you tell her?"

Purple shook his head.

"Tell me what?"

"There's a thing called registration—I think…" Red's expression sobered. "She…told you about it. The test. You know."

I nodded.

Purple spoke. "It's being postponed because of the ceasefire."

"…Oh." I'd wanted to take that test, to finally be official. "Oh."

For a while, there was a heavy yet comfortable silence in the room. We talked some more, and they eventually left to take care of things, but it was a while before I fell asleep again. I didn't want to revisit the dreams, or nightmares, that I feared would contain Ruza.

"That's thirty-four thousand in…just vehicle damages, right? We factored in the—?"

"Guys!" Lard Nar said. "Why are we doing this now? Somebody fill up my chip bag."

An intern ran over to replenish him. One of the rebels spoke up. "Because we need to calculate the damages that—"

"I want to go to sleep!" someone cried.

"Twelve hours on the battlefield!"

"I have a wife and a kid back on Vort. Are we heading back?"

Nar sighed. The emotional toll of the day had affected him, too. "Guys, just save that work for the accountants and call it a day…we can re-strategize when the new week starts."

"We're getting a new plan?" Schloontapooxis asked.

"Oh, I already have one." A chorus of "what-is-its." "We offed the wrong girl on Mars. That wasn't even supposed to be the plan. So now, we're going about it with a lot more finesse."

Still, blank stares, all the way across the room.

"Let me reiterate that we're not trying to kill the Tallest—that ship has sailed. No. Instead, we want a loss of focus. Dread. You all remember the Irken prisons: how we were strung out for days—longer than this—before we quit this life." Lard Nar's tone grew more convicted as he looked them all in the eye. "Tell me how it's fair that they get to have an easy way out! No! We want to terrify them! With her, we finally have that link!"

The crew was starting to catch on, albeit in an exhausted, half-listening stupor.

"We have many more planets to conquer," Nar continued. " We've suffered together for a long time. I know many of you lost comrades today—we're going to regroup. It's been a difficult journey. You all are going home for a short time. But trust me when I tell you we are not done. This is not over. Today was confirmation-today was the assurance we needed! We have the tool we need to bring down the Empire: by doing whatever it takes. But you have to be with me. Are you with me?"

Weak, exhausted voices spoke up, all the more convicted.

"…Sir." An intern spoke up from his desk.

"What?" Lard Nar asked, handing out snacks to the others on the Bridge.

There was an audible smile in his voice as he studied the contents of his screen. "Jagger's done."

"Do we have to do this?"

"Yes." The answer was short and not sweet.

"But…he probably doesn't even…" I would come up with the best argument ever. Right here. Right now. Now. Now. My voice came out small. "Let's just...not do this." And a little bit whiny.

Well, that's futile.

Red's eyes flared as he turned around. His voice came out in an almost hiss. "Oh, we're doing this."

"…Okay."

Red was standing before the monitor in my hospital room, waiting for the transmission to send. My dad was probably busy, I told myself. He wouldn't have time to answer—

"Hello?"

…Crap. "Hi, daddy."

His face brightened. "Hello, darling! How are you?" Then, clouded with confusion. "What are you doing…?" His eyes swept the room. "In a hospital…bed?"

Red straightened ever so slightly as he spoke. "We wanted to inform you about what happened."

For a moment, just two males staring across the universe at each other. Then, my dad spoke. "The Tallest, right? It's nice to finally get to talk with you. I mean, it's been almost a year."

Red nodded.

"Dad," I spoke up. "Red came and got me after we had our…" I realized I hadn't thought about how to explain this beforehand. "We…Ruza and I…" I sighed. "We ran off the Massive."

"You mean you ran…off the Massive, as in, escaped?" His expression was neutral.

"…N-not really. See, there was this battle, and…" I cringed. "Zim needed help—the one who brought us out here—" I inwardly cringed again, "—and the only people who could help him were Ruza and I. I know that sounds hard to believe, but…" This was harder than I'd thought. "We ended up in the fighting."

First, my dad's eyes widened. Then, his mouth. His facial expression changed from surprise to incredulity to the beginnings of rage. "…What?!"

"My reaction exactly," Red said.

My dad pointed a finger at him. "Not another word out of you, I want to hear her! I already blame you for all the crazy stuff that has happened to them since you kidnapped them!"

I ignored Red's posture, hands on his hips, in favor of addressing the human on the other end of the screen. "It wasn't his fault. A lot of it wasn't. They've been harboring us. I told you that."

"Well, I don't have to like it!"

"Well, you don't have to hate it, either!" I shot back. "I've learned not to!"

"What are you saying?" My dad sent me a challenging look. "That you actually like hanging out with these aliens? The last time we talked, you said you felt safe after receiving a death threat from this one!" He threw a hand at Red. "And then you cut the transmission on me! How do you think that was supposed to make me feel? And now, I find out you want to stay with them?" His eyes were wide. "What?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes, they have a history of killing people. Yes, they're not the most trustworthy beings in the universe, by a long shot. But I feel safe here now. You should have seen the way they brought me from Mars. It was…great." I locked eyes with Red for the briefest of moments before looking back at my father. His expression would have been comical had the circumstances not been what they were.

"Hannah…you're staying with murderers!"

"Look," Red said. "I don't expect you to trust us. But look at the fact that she's alive, and we saved her. She would have died of thirst on that planet if it hadn't been for us."

At first, it was like my father wanted to retort again; but after a moment, he simply stared back at Red, his eyes still somewhat wide. After a while, he asked, "Why do you care so much about her?"

"I didn't at first." Red looked over his shoulder at me. "She grew on me. I hated humans at first. You know that." He looked at my father again. "But all I can say is she showed me a friendship no one else ever had. I realized I was wrong to base my opinions of people on race."

My dad's eyebrow rose. "…And what are you going to do when she's better? What about the other three? How are you going to keep them on your ship? With a war going on?"

"Two of them have already headed back," Red said. "I didn't want her to go with them because I didn't think it was safe."

That gave my dad pause. He stared back at Red, the beginnings of respect for at the very least the latter's decision on his face. "The other girl…didn't make it."

"…I'm sorry." My dad looked shocked, hurt, like someone had punched him in the stomach. He locked eyes with me. "Hannah, I'm so sorry."

"…Yeah." For the first time in a long time, I wanted to be with my dad, to hug him, to feel like I had blood ties with someone that I could receive comfort from, to be truly home. "I'm sorry, too. For everything, dad. For lying to you…for cutting you off. For leaving you in the dark…I've been such a horrible daughter…"

"Don't say that." He wore a small smile. "I love you. You'll always be my daughter. Even a million miles away, in space." Tears found their way into my eyes again. "And I forgive you. Don't be scared." We held eye contact for a while, before dad faced Red again. "You two had better take good care of her. She's all you've got left of them, now. And she's all I have left in the world, too. I expect weekly updates on the situation out there."

Red and I nodded at the same time. "You'll get them."

There was a sort of inconsolable sadness in dad's eyes I could only cure by coming home. "I love you, Hannah."

"…I love you too, dad."

A brief, parting glance at Red. A cut transmission.

Now I knew how it felt.

Dwicky had thought the blue globe, speckled with green and white, oh-so-familiar, oh-so-home, would bring a leaping joy into his heart when he finally glimpsed it after all the months away. That joy was muted now, with the recent report from the capital ship. Still there, but seemingly dormant under the weight of the fact that he'd wanted someone else to be with him when he saw it. Someone that never could be again.

Dwicky's thoughts blurred in his mind the time it took for their craft to reach the surface, and then bright, yellow sunlight blanketing everything, and they stopped in front of Dib's house. The boy gave him a last look over his shoulder as he headed for the door, a neutral quirk in his mouth. That line across his mouth read familiarity, shared things, and a sadness neither one of them would revisit verbally. Dwicky stood at the front gate and raised a hand as a final goodbye. Well, not final. As a daily goodbye. They would likely meet up over the weekend.

Dib's sister opened the door. In the most nonviolent display of forgiveness Dwicky had ever witnessed from her, she stood there for a good five minutes listening to him talk before letting him in with both eyes, all his limbs, and his organs still intact.

Dwicky's front door seemed foreign to him at first—wooden, not pink, housed by a white behemoth of a strange material called stucco. It was not cold to the touch. His tile was, though, in the foyer. The staircase, the chandelier, the landing, the empty entryway: all cold.

He crossed into the front room, where a black television screen waited. Months of newscasts I've missed. A year of Earth happenings. I wonder how they took the attack. I wonder who's still alive. From the air, they hadn't been able to glimpse non-American scars on the Earth's surface.

The news station he initially turned on was one he'd viewed a million times before, before school, getting ready, trying to tie his tie or eating a bagel or whatnot. A bagel…how long had it been since he'd had healthy foods for breakfast?

"This is Keith Kid, with the Channel 6 weather. Today, we're going to have some thunderclouds over the downtown area, with a few light showers on the way for some of our outlying districts, until about 9 pm. Then, watch out for hailstorms, in some of the farming areas, and uh…oh, yes. Cloudy clouds. Lots of 'em. Gotta get your umbrellas, folks. This is Keith Kid coming at you from the new, state-of-the-art, robot-proof Channel 6 News studio in downtown…"

Static. Audibly, then visually. Runny salt-and-pepper mush plagued the screen. Dwicky felt his eyebrows furrow, and the edges of his mouth turned down.

The following broadcast was not from Channel 6 News.

It contained a blue planet with blue people Dwicky recognized from being present or mentioned at former conferences.

Ichabod grinned atop his vantage point, in front of the cameras, in front of what viewers could see was the beginning of an area that until this moment had been off-limits.

The tournament half of Jagger glistened like an infant sun.

He'd caught the broadcast in the middle of a paragraph, sentence, thought…but he understood almost immediately.

The tournament host leered at the half-planet. The cameras ate it up.

"Ninety days." Came the voice Dwicky thought he'd never hear. "Ninety days."

I want to thank everyone who so patiently followed and waited on this story to be completed and edited. I appreciate you all and you've been on my mind every time I've worked on this story. I'm editing the first chapter of The EBT, the sequel, which will most definitely be up soon! Stay tuned, and, once again, thank you all so much for your love and support! All glory to God

Hannah