A great light rained down and smothered the tiny PAK in its embrace. At the edge of the rays Zim lingered close by, chewing at the dry skin of his lip. It wasn't the tiny PAK however that set his spooch on edge. In the corner of his eye the larger PAK seemed just that much more obvious. It had been taken apart and now rested in one piece again. It did nothing however to soothe Zim's nerves.
“Scan complete. PAK has passed all theoretical tests and shows no sign of toxins,” The computer's great voice filled the laboratory. “I calculate a 99.8% chance of it successfully supporting the Irken/human hybrid smeet's life.”
Zim nodded. “I see . . .” He turned, and took the other PAK into his gaze. The first, forgotten. “A-and this one?” His voice trembled, fighting back the fear. He was an Irken soldier, after all. Fear was not an option.
No scan was required this time; the computer spoke confi