Red Dwarf and its characters are the property of Grant Naylor productions, I just borrowed them for this story.
Please R and R
Authors note, the rest of this story will take place in the second series of RD
Third technician Arnold J Rimmer entered the office of his commanding officer, Second Technician Gordon I. Timpson. Arnold had been in the Corporation for 9 years now, and the Mining Ship Red Dawn was his first ship assignment. He had finally done it. He had made it into deep space, just like his brothers. True, his brothers were all successful pilots, while he was just second in command of Y Shift on Red Dawn but the fact remained that he was a cog in the great machine. True, his job was to make sure that Timpson's staplers were fully loaded, and that his paper clips didn't get tangled up, but he was taking Astro Navigation Classes, he would soon be an officer.
Rimmer saluted as Gordon looked up from his notes. Gordon was an oily little man, who was caught between vanity and duty. His hair was cut into a buzz cut, except for a very cheap and totally unconvincing toupee. He snorted. .
"Tell me, Third Tech Rimmer, do you remember that lecture I gave you?"
Rimmer recited the speech word for word, his body still rigid in salute.
"You said that Y Shift is a military body sah, despite the fact that that we are simply reprographics sah. You told me we function as an important wheel in the ship sah, if the ship's morris dancing club news letter is late sah, you said the damage to ships morale could be devastating sah, as such sah, you said it was my responsibility as your second in command to make sure morale is at a high level sah."
Timpson had made the speech last week, before his Birthday, which was yesterday. Even a blockhead like Rimmer got the message, and got him a birthday present to 'ensure morale', even though it was just the two of them on the shift. .
"Yes Mr Rimmer, I see you've remembered something. Or at least, I thought you did until I got my gift."
"I'm not following sah." Said Rimmer, he'd gone to the classiest gift store on the ship, and bought him a set of personalised silk hankies.
"I mean, that not only have I had to endure the shame of having the middle name Issenbard, but it's wedged between Gordon and Thompson. Now, I've spent 47 years fighting this curse. I've become a commander of my own shift. And I'm sure that my 13th attempt at my astro navigation exam will result in success, but basically I've beat the stigma... and then you drop this." He dropped the hankies on his desk.
"I'm still not following." Said Arnold.
"Gordon Issenbard Thompson. G-I-T GIT GIT GIT GIT GIT, you goit."
Rimmer felt the familiar wall of embarrassment crawl up his stomach. Thompson began to throw hanky after hanky at Rimmer, they were all trimmed with GIT, a failure almost as monumental as Gazpatcho soup. Thompson stopped throwing the hankies. A serenity seemed to fall over him. This made Rimmer nervous. Normally a Thompson Tantrum would only end with some form of punishment. Still, Rimmer was keen to take advantage of this unexpected serenity.
"Permission to tidy the results of the tantrum I caused, sah." He said.
"Think nothing of it, Mr Rimmer. I think that this shows you're ready for command... you showed initiative. That one..." Thompson's face turned dark. "Mistake aside, you were ready to show what it takes. I have a vacancy here... for second technician, I'm going to assign you the post."
Rimmer's eye twitched. He knew that this wasn't going to be good.
"Sah, according to JMC directives, a second tech can only promote a third tech to second tech in shifts below his own."
"Quite right Arnold, your point?"
Arnold beamed. Gerald Rogers was in charge of Z shift on Red Dawn. A promising officer on C shift, there was a nasty accident due to an improperly arranged cargo bay. The results were kept from the media, but the blow to his head meant that Gerald had an imaginary friend named Errol, and thanks to a great desire to avoid legal action on the part of the Corporation, command of Z-Shift the only position he was now qualified for.
"Sah, I understand Second Tech Rogers has expressed a desire to stay where he is, or at least he says that Errol has. The corporation won't move him."
Thompson sat back. "Well, the rules state nothing about transferring you to a lower shift... on another ship."
Rimmer's grin continued, but his face seemed to melt around the smile.
"And you're lucky a vacancy cropped up this morning... Nikki"
Nikki, the ships AI appeared on the screen above them, she had short brown hair and wise blue eyes.
"What can I do for you Gordon?" She asked.
"Interface with Red Dwarf."
Nikki's image shrank, and a graphic of an hourglass appeared next to her. Rimmer remembered reading the JMC employee newsletter – Red Dwarf was scheduled for a refit.
"Sir, as I understand it, Red Dwarf is having a refit, as such, the ship's facilities will also be updated. The chicken soup machines will clean themselves, the vending machines will have conduits connecting to the crunchie bar supplies in the cargo bays, and as such, Z shift will be pointless."
Gordon chuckled, it was a cold laugh. He knew something, some way to ensure that that Arnold couldn't avoid weaselling out of this assignment. Rimmer made the most of the microsecond of ignorance. He'd spent 5 years doing Z-Shift at Mimas Shipyards, straight after he failed Cadet school. He was the lowest grade on the station, and stayed that way for his entire tenure. Gordon was his supervisor then, and six months after he joined Red Dawn, he'd sent for Rimmer to join him on Y-Shift, purely because he was the only other person in the company who was less competent than him.
"Well, due to the cost of super conductive silicon sky rocketing, the price of Red Dwarf's old refit plan sky rocketed from 2 billion to 200 billion dollarpounds. A cheaper plan was found, and cutbacks were made. As such, the only change Z-shift needs to worry about is making sure the 200 chicken soup machines salvaged from those ancient freighters still work. Some of them are nearly 50 years old."
The hour glass on the monitor warped, next to Nikki appeared the image of Holly, Red Dwarf's AI.
"Alright Nik." He said in his native cockney twang.
"Alright Hol duck." Said Nikki in her Yorkshire accent
"Tell me, Holly." Thompson said. "Is the vacancy for a Second Technician in Charge of Z Shift still open with you."
"Yep." Said Holly. Despite his planet sized intellect, he wasn't much for conversation with new people.
"And what are the requirements for the post?" he asked.
"A pulse." Said Holly.
"Splendid, Nikki, give Holly Mr Rimmer's service history."
"Done" said Nikki.
Holly digested the data in a nano second. "Transfer approved." He said "A letter has been sent to your personal console Second Technician Rimmer."
"Well done Arnold." Said Thompson, "You're going home to Z-Shift."
Three Million and 1 years later, Arnold Rimmer stood in the ops centre, clad in his dress uniform. He'd been planning this for 6 weeks, and the others were late. 15 mintues would be acceptable, after all, he'd learned to understand that Lister and Cat weren't cut from the same cloth as him, but the smegheads were three hours late for, what was, his crowning achievement. To coincide with his Birthday, he had created the Arnold Rimmer Memorial Pen Museum. Finally, the two of them showed up.
"Where the smeg have you been?" asked Rimmer
"Sorry Buddy, I had a tangle in my hair, I hadda comb it out, condition it, comb my hair condition it and then wash it again until I was comfortable with getting it ready for my morning bath."
Rimmer sighed. The only other intelligent life form besides humanity and he was vainer than a Hollywood starlet convention. "And what about you Lister?"
The cheeky scouser who had the awesome responsibility of being the last human being alive shrugged.
"I forgot, sorry man."
"You forgot? Listy, I've been harping on about this grand unveling for 6 weeks. I even woke you up at 6 am this morning, and you forgot?"
"Yeah." Said Lister.
Rimmer was livid. He clenched his fist, wishing not for the first time since he died, that he could knock something over in temper.
"Oh its alright for you. When its your Birthdays you can gorge yourself on food, and drink booze. But do you know what its like to be dead, and then you realise that it's the day of your birth, knowing that you no longer have to count the years? All I ask, is that we observe this solemn time with a ceremony to open a pen museum."
Lister rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud, there aren't any pens in the smegging place. Its just the ship's theatre rigged up with 300 types of monitor with you talking about a slightly different pen on each one."
Rimmer pointed a stern finger at Lister. "They're interactive exhibits miladdo, most of those pens vanished at the fall of civilisation, and the rest have to be safely locked up."
"Rimmer, they're just pens!" Lister exclaimed.
"Just pens? Do you know what Pens were to civilisation? Dickens wrote with a pen. Lennon and McCartney used pens to write their lyrics. Some of the most important treaties of our times were sealed with pens."
Lister put his hands to his head. Rimmer took that as a sign that once again, his own logic had won the day, and the argument belonged to Rimmer.
"Rimmer, its not pens that make history, its people. Its ideas. They are not important."
That was the last straw. For Lister to badmouth him was one thing. But to badmouth the vitally important resource that was the pen, well that was quite another.
"As curator of the Arnold Rimmer Museum I'm officially banning you from access to the museum, Cat, if you'll follow me."
The feline flashed a white smile. "Sure thing buddy, go pens! Where's the food?"
Rimmer knew that the Cat was here for just the food but he hoped that he'd learn something while he was. He clasped his hands together and formed a smile.
"There is a selection of appertifs that will be served after the tour."
Before the Cat could protest, Holly spoke over the ships intercom.
"Sorry to interrupt Arnold, but I've found something."
Rimmer put a hand to the H over his head. Holly finding something usually meant something very boring, or something very dangerous. "Go on."
"Its your old ship, the Red Dawn."
"Humans?" asked Lister from down the corridor. "Real life honest to god humans?"
"Well, lets see... yep, that's it, there's no doubt about it."
"What? You mean I'm not the last human in existence?" Lister's enthusiasm was contagious – well, almost, Humans meant that there were no holograms needed to keep Lister sane, as such it would be turnski offski for Arnie J.
"No, there's absolutely no doubt that there's no humans on that ship."
"Well, what's her status?" asked Rimmer
"Her engines are dead, her power core is on back up emergency minimal, supplemented by solar power and the fuel port cap is missing."
"Can you open a commlink with Nikki?"
"Nikki?" asked Lister.
"Their computer." Explained Rimmer. He was about to reveal that he had been effectively demoted to be put in command of Z – Shift but thought better of it. He had already revealed Gizpatcho soup to Lister, he wasn't about to reveal anything else. "I was second in command of ... one of the shifts there, before I was given my own command."
Nikki's face appeared on the screen. It was streamlined, her brown hair was slicked back and her eyes appeared to be full of even more wisdom.
"This is Nikki, well when I say Nikki, I don't mean its me, well it is me but... er where was I? Oh aye. Me systems are sufferin' from major runtime errors due to some explosion or summat. I'm in standby mode awaiting repair. Cheers."
"Cor blimey." Said Holly. "The old Dawn's been spruced up a bit."
"What do you mean?" asked Rimmer.
"Well, she's 14 years in advance of when we last met her." Holly explained. "She's got spacial compression drives, Nikki's computational skill has been doubled so she now has an IQ of 1200, and the snack machines produce a chocolate bar with three different types of nut."
"14 years?" asked Rimmer. "What was she mining?"
"Scanning the mining refinery..." Holly's face melted into an expression of confusion "No mining refinery found."
"What?" Rimmer asked, sceptically. True, he didn't actually know much about the JMC, at least anything above Y shift, but even he knew that the M in JMC stood for mining, so why was a JMC ship flying around without any mining equipment?
"Everything's gone, the refinery, the Starbugs, the Blue Midgets – they've been replaced by some sort of new engine."
"Lets go and check it out." Said Lister. "Perhaps that explains why the ship is so far out here... perhaps we can use it to get back to Earth."
Rimmer felt his own existence threatened again. He clasped his hands behind his back and forced his face into the most patronising expression he could muster.
"A great plan Listy with two teeny drawbacks. 1) The very fact that the ship has suffered some type of explosion that has severely crippled it and probably killed everything on board probably means that this new super engine still has a few kinks to be worked out, and 2) it's the size of a small town, and transferring piece by piece it from the Dawn to the Dwarf will probably take you and Cat a few decades."
"I'm going down anyway." Said Lister heading out of the theatre and into the corridor. "We have to find out what happened to the crew... we owe them that much."
"Listy, all we owe them is to point and say 'glad that wasn't us'. Who is to say that you won't be killed by a falling pile of debris? Where does that leave me? Dead and alone with pointy teeth there."
"Hey Buds." Said the Cat defensively. "I stopped listening at the 'three nut choccie bar' comment, but if we can get some, lets go."
Lister smiled that smug expression that meant he was going to get his own way. The gimboid was going to get his own smegging way. "Alright, leave me on my own, see if I care."
"Come with us man." Said Lister.
"May I remind you, Listy that some person who shall remain nameless, but isn't a Cat, or a Hologram dared the Skutters to pour lager inside the innards of my hologrammatic projection cage?"
"I can transfer your programme Arnold." Said Holly. "The Dawn's projection system can sustain a second hologram for a week or two."
"Second?" said Lister and Rimmer in stereo.
Holograms can touch each other... perhaps it was Julie Mulvey, the woman who had the most respect for him on that ship. She told him to sod off instead of smeg off when he asked her out.
"Well, Listy I think I will take command of this expedition, I after all, am the most qualified. Holly, transfer me to the Blue Midget please."
Rimmer had ordered a dress change by the time Cat and Lister had arrived at the Blue Midget.
"Rimmer, I hate these ships man." Said Lister as he wedged himself into the pilots chair. "Why can't we take one of the bugs?"
"Because Listy, the Starbug bays have radiation levels 0.0002 above normal, and call me Mr Fraidy cat, but I have no wish to encounter your hallucinations made flesh again."
Lister was quiet. Satisfyingly quiet. Arnie logic had won the day again. In his mind, a civilisation rejoiced.
The blue midget shot out of the Dwarf's cargo bay, and headed towards the Red Dawn.
There was a massive hole in the ships belly, its innards hung like intestines from an animal carcass.
"There, you see? There's your smegging 'way to Earth'." Rimmer mocked Lister's accent with more ham than a cargo bay full of pigs and radios.
"You lack anything human don't you Rimmer? You're a cowardly weasel of a man who gets enormous enjoyment out of the misery and failures of others."
Not one of Lister's 'be optimistic' speeches, Rimmer lamented. His eternal rantings about hope made Rimmer want to permanently delete himself from the system, but suicide was against his cowardly principals. "Oh, do excuse me Lister, but it's a wee bit tricky to pitch one's tent in the camp marked 'Happy' when one is dead and has a Cat with an ego the size of a universe, a computer with an IQ level that would result in incontinence if it were human, and a smegging slob who is last human alive, which technically makes sugar puff sandwiches and lager milkshake the greatest delicacies of modern civilisation.."
Lister shook his head in exasperation and went back to the controls of the midget.
"Hol, can you open the bay doors." Asked Lister
"Yep."
A few minutes passed, Holly continued to stare from the monitor on the dash of the Midget. He blinked as if suddenly understanding.
"Oh sorry, you meant now. Miles away."
The cargo bay doors opened, and the Blue Midget landed in the bay of the Red Dawn. Instead of Starbugs or Blue Midgets, there were fighter vessels. Fighter vessels that Rimmer had seen his brothers posing in front of in family photographs. They didn't have the Space Corps insignia, instead they had a letter.
The Blue Midget touched down in the launch bay, despite the damage that was most visible at ground level, the vessel was remarkably in advance of Red Dwarf, or indeed the Dawn had been when Rimmer was aboard. He wondered what would have happened if that gimboid Thompson hadn't transferred him over to the small rouge one. Perhaps he might have lived. Perhaps he could have done something with his life. The mining freighter had suddenly become a vessel that actually mattered. True he would have been counting paperclips, but even juiced up freighters need paperclips. The whining engines stopped, and Lister and the Cat headed for the exit.
"Alright Holly, are we sure I won't suddenly blink into nothingness when I leave this ship."
"Perfectly sure Arnold." Said Holly. "There is a permanently active back up hologrid wired into the walls. Its like one big projection cage."
"The projection cage being something that a pair of glorified vacuum cleaners were able to wreck in minutes."
"Smeg this." Piped up Lister... "Holly, transfer him over."
Rimmer raised a pointed finger in protest, but it was too late. A microsecond passed and he was standing in the cargo bay of the Red Dawn. Rimmer marched over to the Cat and Lister who were gingerly stepping onto the deck.
"Lister, what a stupid risk! I could have been lost for eternity."
"He's right buddy." Said the Cat sternly, his face melted into a pleading smile. "Can we try it again?"