Chapter Seven

Dinner with the crew of the Red Dwarf (or would it be the crew of the Starbug, in this dimension?) was unsurprisingly...strange. Between the main course (space weevil a la pot noodle) and the dinner conversation (why Lister would never be a Captain, as according to Rimmer and why Rimmer would never be a human being, as according to Lister), Verse was undeniably entertained. Weeks of time spent confined to the medical bay made it all seem highly astute and intriguing.

Fidgeting a little, finding the combination of Lister's be-patched undershirt and Arnold's old JMC-issue trousers more than a little uncomfortable, Verse prodded at her weevil and took the distracting dinner as a chance to take in sneaky glances of Rimmer's glowering face.

"Rimm'eh, I dun care about you an' your regulations."

"Well, I know someone does. Verse understands the importance of protocal. Don't you, Commander?"

She watched as his hands flew about in front of his chest as he spoke with great indignation. Ace's hands had done that, sometimes, when he found some villainous overlord especially taxing. Comparisons were subconsciously made the entire night.

"More weevil, Mr. Cat?"

"Woow! Box-head! Get that stuff away from me, yooowww!"

The way Arnold's nostrils flared, the way his voice dropped in pitch when he was nettled. It was all almost right, but so very wrong. It hurt like a taser to the heart, but brought intense joy. It was as if she'd loved the man in a past life. And while she remembered each moment...he did not. And while she had stayed relatively the same in the crossing from one life to the next, Arnold Rimmer had become a mere shadow of the man he'd been.

"Eh, Paige. Ye a'right?"

Verse dragged her attention to Lister's beady brown eyes.

"Of course," she replied, with a weak smile, "Just tired, is all. Hard as hell to get back on your feet after so much excitement. I never could handle a battle simulation for that exact reason."

"Simulation?" Arnold stated with some surprise.

Verse checked herself.

"Well, you know. Back in my boot camp days. I was...completely prepared, by the time the real battles came around."

Verse had never seen a battle in her life. She didn't rescue damsels or save the universe on a daily basis. She'd been a gopher, a performer, a source of entertainment and a devoted lackey to the great Ace Rimmer. But it'd be best that the interested faces around her never realized that.

"I'm gonna go catch some real dinner!" Cat announced, and danced off. While he'd much rather hunt down a space-rat than suffer another roasted space-weevil, he was much more keen to get away from the scary-lady. Even being several feet away from her around the dining table made his finely-combed hair stand right on end. There was just something wrong with that bitch.

Cat had just left, and Arnold's thin-lipped mouth opened as if to question Verse further, when the 'Bug suddenly gave a violent jostle. Yelps, cries, and screams filled the small space as the crew were all thrown. The lights of the 'Bug flickered, an alarm began to sound, deafeningly loud and ringing through the ears like audio daggers.

"Smegging hell! Turn that off!" Arnold demanded, managing to scramble to his holo-feet before being thrown again. His hard-light bulk smacked against the wall, but he, of course, retained no damage.

The lights went out entirely at the next violent toss. Lister felt rather like he was a collection of space weevil about to get vomited out by the Starbug's innards. The crew were rolled around and around, crates and bits of wire furniture flying around with them. Their cries of surprise and fear rose and fell with each roll. Verse yelped as a crate shattered and Kryten's head was bashed loose from his neck.

"What's happening!" Verse cried.

"It appears the 'Bug is doing barrel-rolls, Miss!" offered the now-headless Kryten as his body flew one way and his head the other.

"Thank you for that inspired..." another roll, a series of cries "...observation, bog-bot! WHY is this piece of space piffle doing barrel rolls?" Rimmer demanded.

Kryten's head smacked against the ceiling. Or was it a wall? It was so hard to be sure.

Finally, the 'Bug went still. The lights flicked back on after a time. Someone groaned.

"...Why's tha table on the ceilin', Krytes?"

"It's not, sir. I believe we are upside down."

"The Starbug is flying upside down? Well, hell. That's rather impressive. The Wildfire could never do that. And she's a time machine, for Goddess's sake!"

A rather ominus silence as Lister, Kryten, and Verse pulled themselves up from the floor (that is, the ceiling-floor) and checked each other for signs of harm.

"Wait," Verse said, pausing in the action of collecting her rainbow-hued hair up into a ponytail, "Where is Arnie?"

The three looked at each other for a moment.

"No one worry about the Cat! I'm fine. Kind of. My suit is torn. Someone needs to fix it right now, bud!"

"Cat!" Verse cried, taking in the bedraggled humanoid animal.

The Cat, despite his reservations about the woman, grinned fang-ily.

"It's ok, babe! I'm terrific! But I wouldn't mind a scratch behind the ears and someone tellin' me what a cute kitten I am," the Cat looked pointedly at Lister.

"No, furball," Verse snapped, approaching him, "You've got Ac-...I mean, Arnold's...-light bee in your sleeve. Give it back!"

"Huh?" Cat replied, peeking into his suit sleeve. Sure enough there was the deactivated bee, nestle between his furry arm and the soft silken lining of his precious suit.

"Give it back!" Verse repeated, lunging. She snatched the precious bee from the startled cat, who "got big" and hissed at her before running away with a loud "AH, THE CRAZY LADY CAN'T TOUCH MEEEE, YOOOOW!"

Verse sneered after him, her concern entirely focused on the bee which she cradled, like a cherished infant, in her hold. She examined it closely, turning it carefully round and round while Lister and Kryten looked on.

"No," she breathed, voice tinged with desperation, "No, no, no, no!"

Lister took a halting step forward, laying a large hand on her shoulder. She did not even seem to note the contact.

"What s'it, Paige?"

Verse turned her head a little to look Lister in the eyes. Her own eyes were shiny with tears that spilled out in rapid succession down her cheeks. She sniffled, voice choked.

"The bee. His light bee. It's...it's...he's...cracked."

"Oh, bugger," Kryten offered, helpfully.

Verse sobbed.