Lister, Rimmer, Cat, Kryten, and Holly belong to Grant/Naylor Productions and I guess the BBC.
I am using them without permission, but I am not and do not expect to make money from this.
Rated PG : harsh language, tasteless jokes.
A/N: This story is based on my AU version of Time Force, in which Trip and Katie are genetically modified (or mutants), Commander Porter of the Silver Guardians was killed, not just injured, the future characters came from 2200, and Ransik came to 2001 to change history and prevent Time Force from existing.
There were voices again, this time near enough for her to hear the words. She lay still, feeling softness under her, trying to understand where she was and what was happening.
"How did she get here?
"The timehole, obviously. It got her, too."
"What are we going to do with her?"
"She's weak but not injured. I guess we should leave her here, take turns watching her."
"I'll watch her!"
"No, Cat."
"Don't you trust me alone with a pretty girl?"
"Absolutely not."
"I'll take the first watch. I'm not much help to Trip and Kryten anyway."
"Thanks, Lucas. Everyone else should get some sleep."
The voices faded, and she sank back into slumber, her dreams troubled with angry voices and whirling lights.
It was quiet and the room was darkened when she opened her eyes. She lay on the narrow but comfortable bed and gazed at the ceiling, soothed by the soft sound of distant machinery, until the whisper of paper rustling caught her ear. Turning her head, she saw a handsome young man sitting in a chair a few feet away, reading a book.
He looked up when she moved, and stared at her for a few heartbeats. Finally he spoke, his voice not entirely friendly. "Feeling better?"
"Yes, thank you." She sat up, feeling her head spin briefly before settling down, and seeing him tense slightly.
"Don't try anything," he said. "There's nowhere for you to run here, and your father and Frax can't help you."
"Who?" she asked. When he just stared at her, she went on. "Where is this?"
"You're on a spaceship. The Red Dwarf. This is the infirmary."
"What happened?"
"You passed out. We brought you here. You're not hurt, but the timehole seems to have weakened you."
"Timehole?"
"Yes. The timehole that brought you here." He looked at her more closely. "Don't you remember?"
"No." She pressed a hand to her head. "I don't remember anything."
"When Ransik and Frax projected the timehole that brought us here, it must have backfired somehow. It brought you here too, but it dropped you somewhere else in the ship. What do you remember?"
"Just -- hallways. Wandering around in the hallways. I felt so lost. So all alone."
A trace of sympathy crossed his face. "Well, you found us. And as long as we're all stuck here, we might as well declare a truce. Okay?"
She looked at his face, noticing the hostility just below the surface. "A truce? What from?" When he merely looked at her, his face suspicious, she went on. "Who are Ransik and Frax? And who are you?"
He stared harder, eyes narrowing. "If this is some kind of trick, it won't do you any good."
"It's not a trick. I don't remember anything. I don't know what my name is." The fear returned, and the loneliness. She felt tears rise in her eyes, and spill over her cheeks.
"Don't think crying is going to do you any good. I don't believe a word you say." He watched her for another moment, his face increasingly alarmed. "Tears don't affect me. I'm not falling for that." He got up and came closer. "Women always think all they have to do is cry, and a man'll do whatever they want..." He leaned over her and awkwardly patted her shoulder. "There, there. It'll be all right. Don't cry."
"You hate me! And I don't even know why!"
"I don't hate you." He sat on the side of the bed and faced her.
"You do hate me. What did I do to you?"
He smiled. "It's more what your father did..."
"Who's my father?"
He sighed. "Okay. Your name is Nadira. Your father is Ransik. He's a criminal, a leader of the mutant underground, in our time. He escaped from prison and went through a timehole -- like the one that brought you here -- to the year 2001. You and Frax -- he's a robot -- came with him. All of you are trying to change history, to prevent Time Force -- that's the law enforcement organization we work for -- from existing. We came after him, to stop him, and capture all of you."
Nadira blinked at him, feeling tears come again. "So we're enemies?"
"I'm afraid so."
"But -- I don't feel like a criminal. I don't hate you."
"Maybe not now." He was smiling again, his face devastatingly handsome.
She sniffled. "What's your name?"
"Lucas."
"I'm sorry for whatever I've done, Lucas."
He looked deeply into her eyes. "You know, I believe you are."
"As long as we're stuck with each other, we might as well make the best of it." Wes faced Eric across the small ship's cabin. "Maybe we can actually get through the night without killing each other."
Eric threw him one of his best glares. "Don't count on it."
Wes sighed. "Eric, come on..."
"I want the bottom bunk."
"Fine! Anything to avoid an argument." He watched Eric walk a few steps and throw himself into the bunk. "Why are you so inconsiderate?"
"Now who's picking a fight?"
"All right. Fine." Wes followed him and climbed up a short ladder to his bunk. He sat on the side. "Mind if I get undressed?"
"What the hell do I care? Strip naked if you want! Just stay away from me!"
"Don't worry!"
Wes took off his shirt and pants, and lay down in his underwear. A few moments later he saw Eric throw his own outer clothes on the floor with unnecessary force. "How about turning off the lights?" he asked.
"Why do I have to turn them off? I'm not one of your goddamn fancy servants!"
"You insisted on taking the bottom bunk," Wes said with exaggerated patience. "You can reach the switch easier."
Eric muttered something obscene, but he got up and spent a few moments searching. "There isn't any switch."
"Wait. Lister said Holly controls everything." Wes raised his voice, feeling a little silly. "Holly?"
"Yes, Wes?"
"Can you turn off the lights?"
"Certainly. Goodnight." The lights lowered to a comfortable sleeping level.
Wes heard Eric walk back to his bunk with a few more curses and get in. He lay staring at the ceiling, listening to Eric move restlessly below him, completely unsleepy now.
"Why do you hate me so much?" he asked suddenly, a bit to his own surprise.
There was silence from below for a moment before Eric answered. "What makes you think I hate you?"
Wes snorted. "You fight with me. You insult me every chance you get. Twice now I thought you were going to kill me."
"You were trying to get the Quantum morpher away from me, and if you notice, I didn't kill you. Besides, I could ask you the same question."
"What? I don't hate you."
"Why did you make that crack about me growing up in a slum?"
Wes looked down in discomfort. "I don't know. You said something about a slum... and it just popped out. Didn't mean anything by it."
"Huh."
"Wait... did you..."
"Pretty close. You knew I was in school on a scholarship. You knew I was broke all the time. How the hell did you think I grew up?"
Wes propped himself up on an elbow. "Jesus, Eric, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have said it if..."
"If you knew it was true?"
"Well... yeah."
There was silence for a few moments. Then Eric's voice came again. "I don't hate you. I just... when we went to school together, everyone had money, everyone knew each other, and hung out with each other, except me."
"And I had more money than anyone else, and more friends."
A sigh. "Yeah."
"If it's any comfort, I'm broke now too, since my father and I... aren't speaking to each other. And most of those kids in school weren't my friends. Their parents just wanted them to kiss up to me."
"Having people wanna kiss up sounds pretty good to me."
"It's not as good as you think. At least, if you have a friend, you know he likes you for yourself."
"Only one problem with that. I don't have any friends." There was a softness in Eric's voice that Wes had never heard before.
"I could be your friend. If you'd let me."
There was another silence. "Don't hold your breath, rich boy."
"Eric..."
"Goodnight, Wes."
"Just my luck. I finally meet a woman I could really have something special with, and I'm dead."
"Which one is that, Rimmer?" Lister asked.
"Jen." Rimmer sighed theatrically. "She's lovely. And she's a Time Force officer. She's got discipline. Dedication. Discrimination."
"Yeah. So she'd never go for you."
"Why do you always assume no woman will ever go for me?"
"Because, face it, Rimmer, you're a smeghead."
"I'm a good catch, Lister. I have ambition. I was going places, before I died. I have everything a woman should want."
"But -- Rimmer, you don't really like women."
"What?"
"I mean -- you think of women like they're the enemy. They have something you want, and you're on a campaign to get it, whether the woman likes it or not."
"Well -- isn't that the way it always is between men and women?"
"No. That's not the way it should be. We're all the same, really. Women have feelings, just like you or me. You should like the woman, and she should like you. You shouldn't be trying to get it, she should want to give it."
"And why should I listen to romantic advice from a man with the personal hygiene of a diseased yak? The sensitivity of a perverted musk ox? A man whose foot odor has been classified as a chemical weapon?"
Lister smiled. "Because the only meaningful relationship you've ever had lasted about fifteen minutes."
Rimmer sighed deeply. "I suppose you're right. No woman could ever want a hopeless case like me. No people skills. No charm. No life. Literally."
"Oh, smeg. Don't start feeling sorry for yourself."
"Why not? I've never had a real relationship. And now I never will."
"You still could. You never know."
"I'm dead, remember? I could never even touch her. What woman would want that?"
Lister resisted the obvious comment. "Maybe you'll meet a nice female hologram."
"Oh great. Another deadie, just like me. We can live -- or perhaps that's the wrong word -- in a nice hologrammatic cottage in the hologrammatic woods, and have nice dead hologrammatic children."
"Rimmer, you really hate yourself, don't you?"
"Why not, everyone else does."
"Smeg!" Lister sighed and forced himself to say the words. "I don't hate you."
"Do you like me?"
"Don't push it."
"Well. That's a start, I suppose."
"It's late, Trip. Aren't you tired?"
"Not yet. And we've got to keep going. Too bad Lucas is taking his turn watching Nadira, and Kryten had to recharge."
"Yes. Too bad," Holly said with a smirk. "I hope you don't mind staying."
Trip smiled. "No. This is fun."
Holly's image smiled back, her face taking on a dreamy expression. "It's fun for me, too."
"But you're a computer. Are you programmed to have fun?"
"I'm capable of all human emotions." Her wistful expression deepened. "Even love."
"Really? That's amazing."
"I'm glad you're here, Trip. I get lonely sometimes."
"Lonely? But you've got Lister, Rimmer, Kryten, and Cat."
"Don't remind me."
"Why, don't you like them?"
"They're all right. At least Kryten and Dave are. But you're different."
"Different how?"
Holly sighed. "No one's been able to handle my keyboards like you. The way you push and pop my memory stacks -- the way you input your code in my software, the way you introduce new data into my working storage..."
Trip snatched his hands away from the panel. "I -- I had no idea..." he stammered.
"Oh, Trip -- I feel like I've been looking for you my whole life."
"I'm flattered..."
"Do you think you could ever care for me?"
"Well..."
"I know there's an obstacle."
"Oh, good. I mean -- you're right, it would never work."
"Yes. There's a tremendous age difference. I'm three million years old," she said in a tragic voice.
"Er... yeah. But you don't look a day over one million."
"Do you really think so?"
"Absolutely." He smiled and reached for the panel again. "Now, we'd better get back to work, or none of us will be getting much older."
Nadira looked up from her plate to see Lucas watching her, a gentle smile on his face. She smiled back before returning her attention to her dinner. A few minutes later her hunger was satisfied enough for her to slow down.
"Thank you, Lucas. This is good."
"Can't let you go hungry."
She looked down from his face, at her plate. "Tell me about myself. And my father. What did we do?"
He took a few moments to answer, and a glance showed her a look of discomfort on his face. "All of us came from the year 2200. Your and your father are mutants. He's an important leader of a violent faction of mutants. They want to take power away from humans, and rule Earth themselves, but Time Force has always stopped them. Your father went to the year 2001 trying to prevent Time Force from being created."
She stopped eating. "But -- why do the mutants want to take over?"
"Power. They think they're not being treated fairly."
"And are we? Treated fairly?"
"Most mutants get along fine. Two of our team, Trip and Katie, are genetically modified. That's why he has green hair, just like you have pink hair. Some people call them mutants. And they're Time Force officers, good ones."
"Then -- why is my father doing this? Why are some mutants unhappy?"
"Well -- it's mostly the soldiers and the ones like your father..."
She looked at him inquiringly. "Go on."
"They think they're discriminated against, because they don't look human..."
"Are they?"
"I..." He looked even more uncomfortable. "Sometimes, I guess people have an attitude."
"Who are the soldiers?"
He sighed. "They were engineered to be soldiers -- weapons -- made to be powerful and vicious -- so they could fight wars -- making them was outlawed, but some groups did it anyway. Most of them ended up turning against the people who created them."
"I don't blame them," Nadira murmured. "Being created just to fight and die for someone else's cause -- and I bet most of them don't look human, and people are afraid of them..."
Lukas looked at her sharply. "Are you sure you don't remember?"
"Maybe part of me does. But that wasn't hard to figure out."
"Yeah, well, don't ask me to feel sorry for them. Ransik brought three soldiers with the two of you. They tried to kill us, several times. One of them kidnapped a bunch of schoolchildren, and tried to kill them. You were involved with that. Another one murdered the commander of the Silver Guardians, a group that tries to help us. In cold blood. And kidnapped and tortured Eric, and a scientist we know. They're nothing but the worst kind of criminals, including your father. Including..."
He looked at her face, stopping in mid-sentence. Tears had blurred her vision. She raised a hand to wipe them away, looking into his face, stricken to the heart.
"Don't try the tears again," he said. But his expression changed from anger to guilty compassion.