Rimmer carried his tiny grandmother to med-lab of Starbug. In watching her try to function with only the left half of her body working the three men decided that it would be best not to leave her.
"Dis wa tret Grand-mère, petit?" she tried to protest as he placed her on the examining table for Kryten to have a look at her. "Je ne désirer-pas suffrage ne-plus, non."
"We won't let you suffer, Madame," the mechanoid told her. "Just hold still so I can examine you."
"Examiner non," she said weakly. "Done wid examiner."
"How did she make it through the academy?" Lister asked. "She can scarcely speak English."
"That's just the way Cajuns speak," Kryten explained as he tried to run the medi-comp's scanner over a squirming red-head. "Whenever they speak French they throw in a few English words and vice-versa. In all actuality she's a master of two languages, Sir."
David Lister shook his head. "But has she mastered them enough to tell the difference between them?" he asked no one in particular.
The mechanoid checked the read-out on the monitor and a concerned look coalesced on his face. "When was the last time you ate or drank anything, Madame?" he asked.
"None yo' binness," she replied defensively.
The mechanoid look at the hologram and said, "Her electrolytes are extremely low. Not only that, she is severely dehydrated. It is my guess that her chosen method of death is deprivation of food and drink, Sirs."
The hologram shook his head as he looked at his grandmother. "Why couldn't you just slash your wrists and have done with it?" he asked her.
Rory grabbed his tunic and then pulled him closer to her. "Ç'est les chickenshit way out," she whispered to him. "If you end your life, do it proper, non?"
Rimmer nodded in agreement with her.
Aurora let go of her grandson, satisfied that she'd gotten the point across to him.
"Kryten, a word with you please," the hologram ordered.
The two men stepped away from the Cajun. Rimmer huddled up to the mechanoid for he was about to suggest something that he was sure his grandmother wouldn't like. "I want you to start an IV on her," he told him. "Anything to keep her alive for now."
"Sir," Kryten protested. "She has a brain tumour the size of a golf-ball. Wouldn't it be best to just let her end her suffering if she so chooses?"
Shaking his head he said, "The woman most possibly has the greatest mind in my entire family, past or present. Throughout the years I have often found myself wondering what it would be like to have known her. Now that I have the chance to find out I will not pass it by. Is that understood, you rubber-headed gimp?"
The mechanoid nodded and said, "I'll do what I can, Sir."
Rimmer looked into Kryten's eyes as he said, "You have no idea what this means to me."
