Chapter 1: Feeling Blue

Red Dwarf sailed slowly past a small meteorite, which drifted close to its side. Beside it an immense wall of red metal stretched off into the far distance. The rock was almost exactly level with the top of the 'E' in RED. For a few long, languid seconds the rock rolled alongside it, slowly spinning. Then the ship glided silently past leaving the rock in its wake, a graceful red monolith. The rock and the ship parted ways and drifted off different ways into the endless night.

Lister sat in the drive room, his hands cupped to his cheeks, elbows leaning on the console. His hat was pulled unevenly over his brown locks, which stuck out spikily over the collar of his black leather jacket. His eyes were dull and unfocused. On the console beside him sat a cup of cold coffee and an ashtray with a lonely cigarette butt sticking out of it. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"There you are," Rimmer said distractedly as he marched into the drive room. "You should be in the docking bay helping Kryten and Cat load up Starbug." He walked past Lister to one of the computer readouts. The computer-generated grease in his hair, failing to smooth down his unmanageable curls, gleamed under the bright fluorescent lights. As usual he was wearing his red soft-light uniform. After bending over the computer he stopped, had a thought and straightened up. "You didn't forget, did you? We're going to check out that moon Holly sighted yesterday. She says it might have organic life."

"Yeah. Whatever," Lister mumbled through the half of his mouth that wasn't obscured by his palm. His other hand was absently torturing the cigarette butt by stabbing it against the bottom of the ashtray.

Rimmer looked at him askance. "Organic life. Meaning, possibly, something to supplement our meagre diet. Or in your case, something extra to garnish your vindaloo with. I thought you'd be excited."

"Yeah, sure," Lister muttered with a supreme lack of enthusiasm.

Rimmer looked at him more closely, and then noticed the ashtray. He stared at it. "You've started smoking again."

"So?"

"I thought you'd stopped."

"I just felt like it, ok? Anyway, I only stopped because it drove you crazy."

Rimmer registered the confrontational tone in his voice. He folded his arms. "You're very cheery today. Still moping, are you?"

"Smeg off, Rimmer," Lister replied, without raising his head from his hands.

"Frankly, it's beginning to get on my nerves."

"Gee, sorry. I don't want to be insensitive or anythin'," Lister bit back at him.

"You still think we're going to find a way to restore Miranda, don't you?"

Lister was silent. He continued stabbing the cigarette.

"Lister, there's nothing out there," Rimmer said, gesturing emphatically at the window. "There's nobody out there. No-one except us."

"What about the Enlightenment?" Lister defended.

"We won't find it again."

"We might! There might be others, you don't know!"

Rimmer just shook his head, sadly. "See? See what it's doing to you? Feeling sorry for yourself, hoping against all odds that some magical solution will present itself." He shook his head again. "Well I'm sorry to say it, Lister, but if that's living in hope, you're better off forgetting about her altogether." He turned away and faced the window.

Lister stared at him in angry disbelief. "How can you say that? You're actin' like... like you don't even want her back!"

His face darkened. "Of course I do."

"Well you've got a weird way of showin' it," Lister snapped.

"Lister, I just fail to see how mooching around all day, staring into the dregs of last night's coffee and polluting your lungs with stale smoke is going to help you get on with your life."

"Have you ever thought of being a motivational speaker, Rimmer?" Lister said with bitter sarcasm.

There was a brooding, stormy silence. Finally Rimmer whirled around. "Do you think it's going to get any easier, Lister? It won't. And if you go on like this, you'll drive yourself and everyone else mad."

"You haven't exactly been easy to live with either, you know!" Lister shouted. "Ever since we turned her off!"

Ignoring him, Rimmer pressed on. "You had that dream again, didn't you? You're obsessed. Honestly, the way you're carrying on, anyone would think you were in love," Rimmer said in disgust. Then he paused, and looked hard at him. "Are you?"

"No, 'course not." He replied, voice prickling with anger. "It's just... I never had a sister. I didn't know her very well, but... I dunno... somethin' about her felt right. She seemed to fit with usyou know? I wanted to get to know 'er. I wanted to find out what stuff she liked, what... what she wanted to be... I wanted to ask her all those things. I never got a chance." His face slumped. "She just felt right, here."

There was another lengthy silence. Rimmer's face was impassive but his eyes glinted acidly. "So what are you saying? You want to turn her back on?"

Lister frowned to protest, then thought about it, and shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so."

Rimmer nodded slowly. "I see. For how long? A few hours? A day? A week? What kind of a life is that? Or would you rather leave her on permanently?"

"Don't start that again."

"Well, what than? Come on Lister, you're the one who suggested it! What kind of a life is it, a few hours each week and then she gets switched off again? It wouldn't be fair on her, or quite frankly, me either."

"It's always about you, isn't it?" Lister said, his temper boiling up to the surface again. "Can't you ever think about someone else?"

Rimmer's eyes widened and he laughed, breathlessly, in disbelief. "Look who's talking! Mr Selfish! You're the one who wants to turn her on again for a few hours, just to make yourself feel better!"

Abruptly, Lister shoved his chair away from the console. It rolled soundlessly along the floor. He stood up. "I've 'ad enough of this. I need to be on me own." He headed out the door.

"Where are you going?" Rimmer snapped as he watched Lister walk out.

"Anywhere, as long as it's not here." He went off up the corridor towards the service lifts.

"What about the scouting mission? We're leaving in half an hour!" Rimmer jogged over to the door and leaned out.

"Go without me," Lister called over his shoulder.

"Oh, great. Marvellous plan, Listy. How are we going to carry the equipment? The Cat's useless, he won't do any of the heavy work."

"How hard can it be to carry a few gardening implements? Look, do what you like, I don't care. Think of something. I'm getting off this ship. I'm takin' Blue Midget."

"What? Lister... Lister don't be stupid!"

He had to shout to make his voice carry down to the far end of the corridor, which Lister was now leaving. For a moment he hovered in the door, face scrunched into an angry scowl, then whipped around and stalked over to the computer monitor.

"Holly," he barked to the blank screen. After a short delay, Holly's blonde head appeared, looking slightly affronted. She blinked and frowned at him.

"Alright, I'm here, there's no need to shout."

"I want you to engage Red Dwarf's autopilot."

"I suppose I can manage that," she said grudgingly.

"And convert me to hard-light."

"Anything else?"

"Just do it."

A few seconds later, Rimmer's image flashed and then reappeared, dressed in a fresh blue uniform.

"Good," Rimmer snapped. "We're taking Starbug. Lister's gone off on his own. I don't know where or for how long." He turned and left the room.

Holly watched him leave. "A 'thank you' might have been nice." She rolled her eyes and winked off. The screen went black.