Wikipedia is the source of all knowledge. Do NOT use this as source of historical accuracy.

I was going to leave this for later, but thought ANZAC day would be a good time to post it. This will have very slow updates. Lucky if one a week.

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Zim stood in the middle of a dirty tunnel. He looked about himself and identified it as a trench, a primitive defensive structure used in warfare.

He sniffed, and made a face. The smell of rotting corpses was thick in the air; Zim was glad he was a soldier, or the smell might be making him even queasier.

Zim cursed GIR for getting him into this trouble. He had finally gotten the Space-time object replacement device (from here-on known as the STORD) operating, and then the stupid robot had pushed him in! The STORD must still have been broken, or it would have just spat him back out, leaving him with a bit of a headache, but no damage to the machine. But instead it had swallowed him up and spat him out here, where ever here was.

He looked around himself and spotted a person sleeping next to one of the trench walls. 'Stupid human!' he shouted, marching over to the sleeper, 'How dare you sleep on the job?' He poked the human in the shoulder, and the human fell to the side. Zim looked down, and saw a pair of eyes staring back at him, unseeing of Zims alien appearance.

'Oh.' Zim knelt down to study the dead human. It didn't look much older than the Dib human, and the other humans that went to Skool with Zim. They were... Zim had to think about this. They were 14 or 15, still smeets by Irken standards, yet allowed to go out onto the field of combat as humans.

Zim poked the body again. Though this human was much bigger than he was, there would be no use in wasting a perfectly good disguise. He pulled off the soldier's helmet, and wiped it clean before settling it over his antennae.

Then he pulled off the others jacket, and tried to ignore the stiff part that was coated in dried human blood, surrounding a large hole. He slung the jacket on over his standard issue Irken shirt, then decided to ignore the pants. The jacket sleeves went well down his arms without him having to worry about tripping over too-long pants as well.

He searched the corpse for a gun, but couldn't find one. Either the humans couldn't even provide adequate weapons for their soldiers, or it had been taken for use by another human. Stupid humans, didn't they know Zim was going to be looking for that gun?

He gave one last glare at the dead man and the walls, then started trudging off through the trenches. He stopped occasionally, to look at hands poking through the trench walls. Some were holding cards, as grim forms of grave humour, others were missing fingers that looked to have been removed after death; Zim figured these might have had rings or other human ornaments on them.

He flinched when he heard an explosion, but judged it to be too far away to be of any concern to him, though it must have hit someone, because he could faintly hear human screams and shouts from the same direction as the explosion. He scrambled up the trench wall, using his spider legs to grip, and peered over the edge. There was barren, grey land for as far as he could see, divided up by only some ditches that he supposed were more trenches.

Zim dropped back down to the floor of the trench and sat down, leaning against the wall. He was caught in the middle of a war zone, which one he didn't know. He had been planning on learning all of Earths wars, to see how the human's defensive technology was, but got caught too up trying to melt boulders with vinegar to finish research.

He would be able to make another STORD machine, of course he would. If the humans had the supplies, and technology yet. But even if they didn't, he would be able to make another one. "With the same faults?" a niggling little voice at the back of his head said.

'Of course! I'm brilliant! I can make it again, perfectly!' He shouted as loudly as he could.

'Hello?' He heard a voice say from around the corner of the trench.

Zim stood up and backed away. Was this human going to kill him? They were in a war zone, so Zim wouldn't blame it if it did.

Around the corner came a human who was wearing the same kind of uniform as Zim, but was holding a gun in his hand. When he saw Zim he laughed. 'I knew they were desperate for more troops, but I didn't think they'd recruit soldiers that young.' He looked closer at Zim. 'You look a bit green, kid. Is this your first time in the field?'

'No! Of course not! Zim is a perfectly capable soldier!' He glared at the human for having dared suggest he was anything but perfect.

The soldier stood back a bit. This Zim fellow was very noisy. 'Have you been crying? You're eyes are very red. You don't have to worry about it though. I cried a lot when I first came here. I missed my parents so much, and my sweet little Anna. We're engaged you know.' He pulled out a tattered black and white photo, and showed it to Zim. 'She's beautiful, isn't she?'

Zim shrugged. 'Sure. Wonderful. How's the war going?'

The soldier laughed and sat down, patting at the dirt next to him, indicating Zim should sit down. 'We're out gunned, don't have enough supplies, and my feet are turning blue. So the war's going perfectly normal.' He laughed. 'But if you want my opinion, we're going to lose, and it'll all be over by the end of the year. Want a smoke?' He brought a tin of cigarettes, and offered one to Zim.

Zim picked one up and stared at it. 'Here.' The soldier lit it up, and took one for himself. 'We deserve it, being stuck out here in the middle of this Godforsaken land.' He took a puff on his cigarette. Zim watched him carefully and attempted to follow his actions. He started coughing as he sucked the poisonous air into his lungs.

The soldier laughed. 'First time? You are young.'

'Zim is-' Zim thought. They would believe him if he said he was young, rather than trying to explain away his height to the soldier. It was hard enough at Skool, with him being the only one who hadn't grown. '-very young. Yes, Zim is quite young.'

'Thought so. How'd you get into the army, anyway?'

Zim gulped. 'Ahhh, the normal way. Yes, the normal, human way of entering the armed forces.'

The soldier nodded. 'I decided I should fight for my country, and the Emperor. I'm Felix, by the way. I guess you're Zim?'

Zim nodded. 'You have heard of the amazing Zim?'

'How could I not've? You keep on shouting it out.' He finished off his cigarette and stubbed it out. 'Better get going. I'm supposed to report to the superior. Tell him the rest of my battalion's dead, and then ask for leave from this place.' He laughed again, this time without any humour. 'Of course, the only way to leave here is to get transported to a POW camp, and then who knows what'll happen to you there. They torture people, you know.'

Zim nodded. He wouldn't have expected the other side to do anything less. Of course, this side would torture people too, but they would do it for a reason. 'They killed the rest of your battalion? How?'

'Poison gas, of course. I'm glad I had my gas mask on me, or I'd be as dead as the rest of them. Poor Alfred...' He shook his head sadly.

Zim nodded and continued on next to Felix. Soldiers always died during war, that's what they were created for. The ultimate cannon fodder. But he had learnt that humans viewed the lives of soldiers differently to how Irkens viewed them. 'So, uh, how advanced are the opposing force?' Zim could still gather information from the human about the technology of the humans.

'They've already taken Passchendaele, though that's a fair way from here. We're being driven back further every day, though hopefully we might just be allowed to return home. You chose a bad tome to enter the army, kid.'

Zim was slightly confused about this. 'No, I mean their technology. What machines do they have? Giant robots, lasers, monkeys?'

'Robots? Lay-sirs? They have tanks and poison gas, plus machine guns. They also have aircraft, which drop bombs on the trenches, and land mines, but I haven't seen any of those.'

Zim nodded. 'So, primitive then.'

'Primitive!' Felix was astonished. 'Has the fatherland developed better technology, which we haven't heard of? Are they stockpiling it, for when the Britscher reach Berlin, so they can defend themselves, rather than help us out here? How could they treat us like that, those useless bureaucrats behind their desks, leaving us to die for them? Sometimes I just want to surrender.'

Zim was shocked. How dare a soldier vocalise those thoughts in the middle of a war? 'Are you a traitor, soldier? Do you dare to let them over take you because you are so weak that you give up and lie down, letting them destroy your home, kill you leaders and enslave your race! And what would your An-na think if she knew you were just going to lie down and allow the Brit-scher overtake your land! You must get up and fight!'

Felix shrugged. 'Sure. I'll keep on. It probably won't do much good, but I'll continue, anyway.'

Zim grinned. 'That's the spirit. You must always continue, despite whatever odds are against you, and whatever people go against you.'

They continued on in silence. Felix mulling over his thoughts, and Zim enjoying the scenery, occasionally trying his cigarette again. Suddenly, Zim stopped. He removed his helmet and listened intently.

'What are those?' Felix asked, quite surprised. Zim looked more like a goblin than a human. He took a step backwards. He had heard that they came and ate corpses at night, but he wasn't dead yet!

'Shhhh.' Zim silenced him. 'They're coming.'

'Who are?' Felix was terrified. What could the Zim goblin creature be hearing?

'The opposing force. Get your gun and defend yourself!' Zim returned his helmet to his head and hugged the wall of the trench, and Felix followed. There was a long silence before the first of the troops came down the wall, causing Felix to shout out, and start shooting them. He wished he was back at the outpost, with it's machine gun. He managed to kill two before a bullet lodged itself into his heart, and it stopped beating.

Zim fell to the floor when the other force dropped down into the trench. Maybe they would think he was dead and leave him alone. He didn't want to get killed, or tortured. He just wanted to go back to his base. He let out a small squeak when Felix fell on him, and used the body to hide himself. If he grabbed Felixs' gun and started shooting, he would end up as dead as Felix was.

He peered out from beneath the body, and saw booted feet stomping around. One of them kicked aside Felix's body, then reached down and took his gun, his cigarette tin, and the ring he had on his finger. Zim tried to remain still as he felt another pair of hands search his coat. He pulled his hands into the sleeves and tried not to breathe. He finally let out a sign of relief when the human let him go, and the troop marched off. Though it had seemed like years for Zim, then entire thing had only lasted a few seconds.

He waited a few minutes until they had left the area, then got up, looking around slowly. IT was starting to get dark, and he couldn't hear anyone. He looked up at the trench wall, and decided to leave this place. He deployed his spider legs, and climbed up to the top of the trench.

Once at the top, Zim stopped to look around. There didn't seem to be any obstructions, and the only lights were far off in the distance. He jumped onto the top of the wall. He crouched low to the ground, and looked about, using his ocular implants. He scanned the ground for any buried metal, but couldn't spot anything so continued on, sticking close to the ground and searching the area carefully before moving on.

Halfway through the night Zim had to throw himself down to avoid being seen by some soldiers who were hiding in trenches a few metres away from him. He didn't know who these soldiers were, or where they were from, but he couldn't risk being caught by them. Who knew what they would do to him; these humans were even more primitive than the ones he knew! He didn't want to get caught and tortured, or autopsied, or forced to breed with human women! He hugged the ground until he thought the humans had gone, then got up and ran forwards, diving into the trench, and looking around. Nothing. There was nobody there. He was safe.

He leaned back against the wall, and sat down. A short rest couldn't hurt, just enough for him to lose some of the tiredness that he got from crossing the great deserted space between the trenches. He pulled the coat closer around himself and huddled into the corner. A small rest couldn't hurt. He closed his eyes, just for a short rest.

Zim was interrupted from is rest two hours later, by the sound of guns being cocked. He opened his eyes quickly and looked around rather startled. For two seconds he had no idea where he was, and just knew he had to escape. He deployed his spider legs, and sprung up above the opposite wall, hearing the guns go off as he went.

He landed badly on his spider legs, cursing at the lost speed. He threw away any attempts at concealment and just ran using the spider legs, bobbing up and down, and weaving from side to side so that the enemy couldn't get any decent shots. He jumped over about five trenches, before eventually collapsing behind a large dirt mound. He then peered behind it, checking to see that nobody was following. There were some humans off in the distance, but they were too far off to be of a current concern.

However, Zims leg was a current concern. It had been hit by a bullet when he was fleeing from the humans, and it was still lodged in his calf. He touched the hole, with a strange sense of fascination. The bullet was definitely still in there. He could feel the hard metal through his skin. He took a pair of medical tweezers from the Invader Issue First Aid Kit in his PAK, and dug around in the hole, wincing as the blood ran over his fingers. He didn't want the filthy human projectile to stay imbedded in his flesh. When he removed it he covered the injury with a bandage, and tried to stand. He grit his teeth against the pain, and sat down again. It would take a day or so for the wound to completely heal, but he could probably walk on it again in 2 hours. He looked behind himself again. He might have two hours, and he didn't want to have to keep using his spider legs. They took a fair bit of concentration, and he was more noticeable when he was using them.

He sighed and leaned back against the dirt. He could probably leave in one hour. His leg would heal as he walked. He huddled deeper into his coat, and kept watch, in case anybody showed up. There was one close call, but he pressed himself against the dirt, and stayed still, so they just ignored him as part of the dirt heap.

After an hour and a half Zim got up, limping on his bad leg, and set off in the general direction of "away from the trenches." When the sun came up, Zim looked around himself. The ground was still dirt, and there was no cover anywhere. He sighed and continued on, there would have to be somewhere to hide soon. He abhorred the thought of having to hide from the humans, but didn't want to be cut open even more, so he had to hide from them.

The ground started getting less barren the further Zim went on, and after travelling perhaps 10 kilometres more, Zim finally spotted a barn. He didn't know whose barn it was, or what side they were on. However, he did know that a barn would be good for hiding in, and that he could leave it when the sun went down again. Sneaking inside the barn, he looked around. There didn't seem to be much inside, except for a bit of straw, and a few wooden barriers. He ran inside and crouched behind one of the barriers. It would do for a hiding place, until night fell again and he could leave the barn.

-----

A farmer was herding his few remaining cows. They were all old, with visible bones and dirty hides. The farmer sighed. HIs herd used to be the envy of the entire land. He had had some of the best, fattest cattle in Europe, but now they were all dead. Either requisitioned by one army or the other, or killed by stepping on land mines, or from stray bombs. He didn't like being so close to the war zone, but couldn't leave his farm, not while he still had some cows to look after.

He herded them towards the barn where they stayed at night. It protected them from deserters and any wild animals that were still alive. He opened the barn doors, and pressed the cows to enter. They seemed frightened by something inside, and were refusing to enter. The farmer sighed. These few cows were always skittish. He entered the barn himself, to see if there was anything that might be distressing them.

He looked behind the barriers and saw a soldier in a corner, sleeping. 'German.' He spat, hatefully, slowly getting the gun he carried with him. He may be too old to fight on the frontline, but that didn't mean he couldn't kill them when they trespassed in his property.

He aimed his gun right at the head of the sleeping soldier, and started to pull the trigger...