Chapter 1: The Day Dream Begins
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The nearly desolate, purple planet set aside for Irken conventions had a surface area of ten billion square miles. So, a person with common sense would question why the one convention hall on the entire planet was so small and cramped. To that common sense, the two lords known by everyone else as the "Tallest" simply shrugged their shoulders and went about holding their gatherings without a second thought. Today was no exception.
Operation: Impending Doom II was a complete success. Planets across multiple galaxies had been conquered and/or destroyed for the glory (and entertainment) of the Irken Empire. To celebrate, plans for The Third Impending Doom were already underway. Thirteen new Invaders that had come of age were going to be the key to conquering galaxies of the next level. These soldiers stood at attention while the rest of the crowd's little green men (and little green women) waved their antennae in anticipation.
Among these rookie Invaders is where we begin. Magenta eyes blinked against the head of the little girl, all set to destroy a planet's race and take prisoners if necessary. After watching the twelve Invaders ahead of her being assigned personal SIRs (Standard issue Information Retrieval units), she clenched her fists at her sides as her turn arrived.
However, the Tallest were holding off with a bit of whispering between the two of them.
"I thought you said there were only twelve this time around," Purple muttered.
"I specifically said that there were a dozen," Red harshly whispered back.
"But isn't a dozen twelve?"
"A baker's dozen."
Purple mouthed an elongated "oh". Both of them glanced awkwardly at the last rookie. She blinked a couple of times, still eager and ready. The Tallest resumed their whispering session.
"Though, now that I get a look at her by herself," mentioned Red, "she does seem a little... short."
"Yeah, I don't think we'd miss her too badly if she were given 'advanced' equipment," commented Purple offhandedly.
They both let out a silent chuckle in reminiscing. The last Invader to whom they had conned garbage as an advanced SIR was still stranded on a hypothetical planet. Surely one more accident wouldn't hurt. They turned more confidently toward the rookie.
"Soldier Phlip-Phlop!" addressed Red.
"Yes, My Tallest?" returned the rookie.
As they we talking, Purple hovered off to a nearby bin of old parts while keeping it out of sight of everyone in the vicinity.
"Would you be willing to take on a 'special' unit?" continued Red.
"Special unit?" echoed Phlip-Phlop.
"Yes, you're an, uh... unique new Invader from your class and you deserve a servant that's a better fit for you. What would you say to this once-in-a-lifetime offer?"
If the Irken had irises in their eyes, they would probably look really weird widening in Phlip-Phlop's magenta orbs. But the narrator digresses. She didn't have to think twice about the potential benefits.
"I would accept it with open arms," she affirmed with a nod.
"Glad to hear it," smiled Red half-heartedly.
"Here it is," commented Purple while dropping the 'special' unit.
Contrary to the standard robots, this one seemed to house green lights in its eyes. But it saluted like all the other Invaders' servants.
"TIR is prepared for responsibilities." The sentence carried the voice of what sounded like a butler that Phlip-Phlop was sure belonged to some guy named Walter.
"TIR?" she echoed while tilting her head in confusion. "Why does your designation start with a T?"
'TIR' lifted a mechanical finger in front of himself. He then moved it back to his metal chin and scratched.
"I am not entirely certain, ma'am," he concluded. Out of nowhere, he started performing cartwheels.
Phlip-Phlop looked at her Tallest. "Why did it become so... sporadic?"
"That's what makes it unique," insisted Red.
"Oh, okay." Phlip-Phlop knew that it was pointless to question her rulers' logic and reason. According to the data banks, the last poor sucker that tried to point out their flaws found himself on a one-way trip to the sun's core.
"Okay, great! Good luck! We're counting on you. Bye!" Purple rambled quickly before throwing a randomly conjured switch.
In the next instant, Phlip-Phlop and TIR were sucked up by a large vacuum tube. After a few bumps along the way, they were spat out into Phlip-Phlop's small spaceship. A rolled up piece of paper soon followed their route and smacked her upside the head. Catching it in her hand, she unravelled the parchment. As it turned out, they held the coordinates to her planetary destination.
"Let's ride, TIR!" hollered Phlip-Phlop while taking the controls. "For the beginning of The Third Operation Impending Doom!"
"I shall perform the Dance of Doom," said TIR cheerfully. He then proceeded to shake his limbs while a snappy beat played from inside his own circuits. The spacecraft blasted off into hyperspace.
Meanwhile, back on the platform, the Tallest were finishing the official send off and their wave goodbye.
"Which planet did we send her to again?" wondered Red.
"I don't know," answered Purple, "something called Equus or something. I wasn't really paying attention."
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(Several light-years later...)
Phlip-Phlop's eye twitched violently and involuntarily. TIR's self-looping music track had been playing this one song for the past two hours. His shuffling arms and legs compounded onto how annoying he was being. The Irken Invader was almost tempted to press eject right then to remove herself from seeing and hearing this 'special' unit. But she resisted the temptation. Invasion came before pleasure after all.
Her ship's monitor started beeping, indicating the closing proximity of her destination. She took a quick glance at the rather large mass of mostly green with a few splotches of blue and brown. A white circle surrounded the planet's top. She managed to smirk in spite of the annoying background music to which TIR had switched.
Planet Equus won't know what hit it, Phlip-Phlop thought as she chuckled. She escalated to a cackle. It was contagious to the point that TIR stopped what he was doing to give a hearty laugh of his own.