Thanks for the lovely reviews, guys. I'm glad you're all nicely intrigued and enjoying the characterisation. Now we get to see the Colony in all its glory and meet some of its kooky inhabitants.

Reviews are always appreciated, lighting up my day and my inbox. Thank you!

Even though he wasn't technically alive, Rimmer could only describe the Colony as breathtaking.

McGruder had led him along the corridor and out onto a gantry to survey the hive of activity that buzzed below. Men, women and children of all shapes and sizes were going about their everyday business, the recycled air sweet with the sounds of talk and laughter. Rimmer couldn't help but smile. Even three million years into deep space, the human race still clung resolutely to existence.

Descending the staircase, Rimmer ran an experimental hand along the metal of the walls. Old panels had been beaten and welded together to form the structure before him. In fact - Rimmer's eyes swivelled to take in the expansive dome-like structure of his surroundings - the entire ship seemed to be etched in metals of different colours, ages and shapes. As if they hadn't created together, more so, brought together.

He turned to face McGruder, the question apparently already clear in his eyes.

"We've used all sorts of materials from our old ships and derelicts to create the Colony," McGruder explained proudly. He turned to survey the community below, a weary yet content smile surfacing on his handsome features. "It may not be pretty, but it's home."

Rimmer shook his head in distant wonder, glancing down below to watch a group of boys kicking about an old, weather-beaten football between them, their raucous game spilling into the path of a pair of middle-aged men who were trying to paint the far wall. A precious pot of paint hurriedly rescued from decorating the floor, Rimmer could only distantly make out the men's curses as they hurried them away, met with the amused giggles from the trio of women sat scrubbing some clothes nearby.

This was the human side of humanity. The wonderfully chaotic yet simple pleasures of community spirit that he and Lister had long forgotten in their years stranded together. In his home dimension, they had been the only two humans left in existence. In this dimension it seemed, Fate had dealt the human race a second chance, which they were living with relish.

"It's amazing," Rimmer conceded. He shook his head with disbelieving joy, unable to take it in. "This must have taken decades - "

"Took me almost 74 years to complete and I've been bringing survivors here for over 160 years," McGruder cut in. "My pride and joy." He slowed momentarily on the stairs to snatch a look over his shoulder at the bemused expression he already knew to be inevitably plastered on Rimmer's face.

Once he'd regained his faculties, Rimmer realised his mouth was gawping so openly he could catch flies. He closed it with a less than subtle cough. "Now either my maths has gone completely to pot," he mused slowly, "or you're taking the piss."

A grin emerged from under wisps of wheat-coloured hair.

Rimmer blinked, casting his eyes over the man's face. He didn't look a day over thirty. "Seriously, how old are you?" he pressed.

McGruder tutted coquettishly. "Such an impertinent question so early on in our date," he teased. "And unfortunately there isn't really a straightforward answer." His green eyes flitted up as if playfully trying to recall a time he knew all too well. "Not counting stasis? About 213 years old. From my date of birth?" He cocked an eyebrow with a sad sigh as he turned back to descend the stairs once more. "Too long."

Rimmer nodded distantly as he watched him go. He knew that feeling all too well.

As the pair reached the ground level, the hustle and bustle slowed and then stopped as all attention towards them. Excited whispers began to flit across the crowds like ripples across the surface of a lake. Embarrassed, Rimmer offered them a cursory nod.

"Evening," he chuckled awkwardly.

McGruder slowed to fall in line with Rimmer's step. "Sorry," he mumbled as they began to make their way through the reams of people now watching them intently. "As you can imagine, it's been a while since we've had anyone visit. Newcomers always create a bit of a buzz." He swept his gaze across the bemused faces with a meaningful look that diffused the interest immediately, and they returned to their business just as swiftly.

"It's ok. I've had to get used to being stared at to be honest." Rimmer capitulated. "I guess there's not that many of us out there any more. On some worlds, seeing a human wandering through a trading post is like witnessing a T-Rex ambling down Oxford Street. Not exactly an everyday occurrence."

McGruder snorted in amusement. "True," he conceded, as he edged his way around a large cooking vat.

Rimmer followed, glancing gingerly into the bubbling contents of the vat; most likely some form of porridge. The dark brunette stirring slowly with a metal ladle swept back her hair and smiled at him warmly through the steam that curled up from the pot. Flashing back a smile of his own, he caught up to McGruder's purposeful stride.

McGruder cast a glance over his shoulder. "I know we don't have much," he explained. "It's been nine months since the last derelict showed up and it's really dire on the food supplies front. Even the Pot Noodles have long been eaten."

Rimmer shuddered involuntarily. Dire indeed.

He turned back to survey the people of the Colony. They were even utilising old crew uniforms for clothing; the children dressed in oversized ragged shirts, emblazoned with the Space Corps insignia, pulled in at the waist with old leather belts. They may be living simple lives and making do with whatever they could salvage, but they were happy nonetheless.

"Hang on," Rimmer began, a sudden thought occurring. "What do you mean, 'since the last derelict showed up'? You said this Colony has existed for 160 years. Surely you would have exhausted all of the derelicts in this sector decades ago?" he ventured. "Derelicts don't just show up out of the blue."

McGruder shrugged. "In this sector they do," he replied simply, before adding, "Long story."

*************

Music blared out from the Landing Bay, echoing across the cold, lonely walls as the pair stooped under the shuttered door.

A grin immediately split Rimmer's face. "Wildfire!"

The small red ship sat silently in expectation before them, flickering flashes and sparks illuminating its metal underbelly.

McGruder folded his arms. "As if you could think I could leave such a beauty with the SS Aquarius?" he replied, almost offended. "Ron's been babysitting for you." He swivelled back to Wildfire, stifling a giggle at the disembodied legs sticking out from under the ship's belly, tapping in beat to the heavy bass music. "Hey, Morby!" he hollered, followed by a sharp whistle.

The sparks fell into darkness and the mechanic slid out from underneath Wildfire's belly to meet them with a grin. "Hey!" he called back over the din. "Off!" and the music obeyed, cutting instantly to leave Rimmer's ears ringing.

McGruder smiled as he approached with echoing footsteps. "First Technician Ron Morby," he announced. "Best bloody mechanic this galaxy has seen in centuries, and I can vouch for that."

Ron wiped his oil-slicked hands on the ancient rag he always kept in his pocket – a cloth that outnumbered all 48 of his years – and shook Rimmer firmly by the hand.

"Nice to meet you, son," he smiled.

Rimmer cocked an eyebrow with a warm chuckle. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I must have at least three million years on you, you know."

McGruder flashed him a strange look before continuing. "Ron this is – "

"McGruder, come on, everyone knows who this is!" Ron cut in jovially. "With a gorgeous craft like this one? You must be Ace."

Rimmer offered a courteous nod. "Indeed."

Ron cocked his head back to Wildfire. "She was in bad nick though – the main drive had taken a battering but it seems fine now. Looks like you had a bit of a rough ride hitting this dimension." He ruffled a hand through his muss of retreating copper hair. "The onboard mainframe is in a bit of a flap."

"Sounds about right," Rimmer snorted, giving Ron a friendly slap on the back as he passed, eager to check out the situation for himself. "Thanks fella. Better see if the old girl is OK."

The glass hood of Wildfire slid back graciously as Rimmer hauled himself up onto the wing and gingerly clambered into the cockpit. He sat in silence, tapping his fingers on the armrest, awaiting the inevitable.

"Go on then," he eventually sighed in his old voice. "I know you're itching to, so you might as well get it over and done with."

The dashboard rippled thoughtfully with green and white lights for a moment. "I did warn you," she replied curtly.

"Oh indeed you did," Rimmer rolled his eyes as he sank down into the cool folds of the leather pilot seat. "Ad infinitum."

"You could have been killed!"

"Again."

The dashboard lights hardened from green to red and Rimmer bit back a smirk.

"This Morby chap seems to reckon the DJ drive took a bit of a beating," he started with the grating of gears. "It was a pretty rough jaunt – presumably what knocked out the comms when we first arrived. Also probably why I can't seem to hear you in here anymore." Rimmer tapped his temple with his forefinger.

"My comms links are still down," she replied, relenting. "You're free of my 'mother hen-clucking' for a while," she added with a sulk.

Rimmer ran a soothing hand across the console. "I'll miss you. Promise."

"Hmm."

Stretching his crossed legs out onto the console, Rimmer linked his fingers behind his head and leant back, deep in thought. "Here's a riddle to keep you busy whilst you self-repair," he mused distantly. "Despite your forever-perfect navigation calculations, somehow we get pulled unwillingly into this dimension. And this head honcho SCM here," he huffed over the words with a hint of resentment, "seems to reckon that this Colony has survived for 160 years as derelicts keep mysteriously showing up, bringing a continual stream of both food supplies and new survivors." He raised an eyebrow. "Coincidence?"

The computer's modem ticked over the premise. "Could be a dimension skid?" she offered.

"A weak point between realities?" He chewed over the prospect. "But it seems to be feeding into this point in time and space specifically."

"Precisely my theory," the computer replied silkily. "It seems to be bringing together stranded fragments of the human race."

Rimmer blinked. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that the Universe is trying to save the human race by bringing together what's left of it?" He shook his head. "But a dimension skid is a naturally occurring phenomenon - a Universe can't plan what to put where for the sake of karma, surely?"

The white lights rippled across the console as the computer sighed wistfully. "Still so much to learn," she muttered to herself.

"Hey, Wonderboy!"

Rimmer glanced out of the open cockpit to see McGruder standing below, arms folded. Rimmer scowled inwardly. And why, pray tell, did the Universe want him to meet this cocky little git so badly?

Ron mopped his brow with the same greasy rag. "McGruder tells me you haven't met my missus yet?" he called out.

Rimmer shook his head. "Can't say I've had the pleasure," he replied smoothly.

The pair below exchanged knowing glances. "Well when you meet her," Ron grinned wryly, "you'll realise what a shy and blushing rose she is."

***********

Senior Medical Officer Eleanor Morby was known as 'Ellie' to her friends. And seeing as she served as friend, confidant and mother hen to all on the Colony, Ellie's full name and Space Corps rank had been long forgotten.

"DAH-LING!"

Rimmer jumped visibly at the Derbyshire accent that boomed operatically forth from the short, partridge-like woman before him. She waddled up to him eagerly, arms thrust outwards in an unbridled gesture of love and affection and pulled all six-feet of his height down to hug his head into her warm, matronly bosom.

"We've heard so much about you," she gushed, stroking at the soft, blonde locks of his wig. "It's such a pleasure."

McGruder couldn't help but smirk as he stood back, arms folded, to witness the famous immortal deity bent-double, immobilised by a hug. He watched as Rimmer blinked in astonishment, his fingers wiggling as they hovered, uncertain what to do. He was most likely trying to return the gesture; yet from where McGruder was standing they merely seemed to have access to body parts it was only acceptable to publicly grab on a matron in a Benny Hill sketch.

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied instead; the formality slightly marred by the fact his voice mumbled from the soft warmth of this stranger's bosom.

Ellie caught the mocking sneer on McGruder's face. "And what are you grinning at, mister?" she challenged, releasing Rimmer reluctantly. "You may have lived for centuries but you're never too old for a hug, you hear?"

She waddled over to the desk, brushing away loose files and papers that her impeccable mind had no need for. Gathering up a pair of mugs, she thrust them into McGruder's chest. "Here. Why don't you make yourself useful and go and make the tea?"

Shocked, yet with a distant smile, McGruder offered her a playful salute. "Yes, ma'am!" he replied jokingly, catching Rimmer's eye before heading out of the door, mugs in hand.

Ellie thumped herself down gratefully on one of the MediBay beds before tapping the blanket beside her. "Come on darling, come and sit," she instructed, and Rimmer readily followed suit. "As cheeky as that McGruder is, I'm sure he's been looking after you well."

Rimmer nodded wordlessly. Even though it didn't sit well with him, he had to admit that he owed the guy at least that gesture.

Ellie smiled warmly. "He's such a good man. Worked so hard over the years to bring us all here." She shoulder-bumped him playfully. "It's how I met my Ron."

Rimmer smiled back. "I met him just now. He seems nice."

Ellie quickly shook her head, her fading dark curls bouncing wildly. "Oh but listen to me harping on about myself." She ran a hand blindly under the bed before pulling out a small, battered tin. "What brings you here to us? There hasn't been a sighting of you in hundreds of years and now here you are."

"Here I am," Rimmer echoed. He really wasn't sure why he was here, beyond revelling in the company of normality and humankind once more.

Ellie nodded understanding, as if she'd read more into what he'd said. "This is my little secret," she whispered, gesturing to the tin sitting in her lap. Pulling off the lid to reveal a half-eaten bar of dark chocolate nestled inside, she broke off a couple of squares and offered one to Rimmer.

Rimmer stared at it silently aghast, as if a beggar on the street had just offered him a thousand dollar-pounds. His mind's eye couldn't drag itself away from the rest of the Colony surviving on bowls of simple porridge when he didn't even need to eat.

"I can't - " he mumbled.

But Ellie shook her head firmly. "Trust me. Every single man, woman and child on this Colony has enjoyed a bite of chocolate from my stash at least once." She gestured once more with the precious square. "I'd be insulted if you didn't."

Relenting, Rimmer accepted. It might have been a small gesture, but the meaning was immense. He'd spent so many years during his time as Ace giving his time and energy for the sake of others, that he'd long forgotton his natural instinct for selfish thought.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The pair ate in silence for a few moments.

"So that's my little secret," Ellie began slowly. "Now what's yours?"

Rimmer glanced up, his chew slowing as his panic rose. Yet Ellie seemed quite nonchalant, not even returning his gaze as she continued to eat.

"Secret?" he asked cautiously.

Ellie nodded. "You've been travelling for so long," she began. "But you can't have started that way." She took another thoughtful nibble. "Call me a non-believer but I don't agree with the myths that you were born from the fire of Time itself," she smiled warmly.

Rimmer returned a smile of his own. "Right," he replied, non-committal.

"So?" Ellie pressed gently. "When were you born? Where are you from?"

Rimmer regarded her through one eye. He'd only just met her, but through her warmth and honesty she seemed to have a distinct knack for eking out what she needed from people to trust her.

"I was born on Io," he found himself saying. "A long time ago. Three million years."

This didn't seem to faze Ellie; instead she gave a comprehending nod. "My cousin studied on Io. A tad later than you, I hasten to add, give or take a thousand years or so."

"Did she know a teacher called Mr Smith?" he replied teasingly, a chuckle spilling forth unchecked.

Ellie's smile grew wider. "See now that's nice, seeing you laugh." She patted his hand reassuringly. "It sounds like you haven't done that in a long time."

Rimmer's smile faded slightly at the edges. She was right. It had been a long time.

Instinctively sensing the change in mood, Ellie moved on. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I highly doubt that your parents were cruel enough to call you 'Ace'."

Rimmer snorted to himself. 'Ace', no. 'Cruel'? Understatement.

"Did you have a real name once?" Ellie asked openly. "Can you still remember it?"

Rimmer could remember it alright, although he'd shed it long ago. Saying it now still felt like he was talking about a different person; a man no longer himself.

"Rimmer," he said simply. "Arnold J. Rimmer."

A loud crash sounded outside the open door; the sound of shattered ceramic. Startled, the pair exchanged glances before Rimmer crossed to the doorway to peer outside.

Scrabbling to hide her precious metal tin, Ellie called over from beside the bed. "What was it, darling?"

On the metal-grated flooring lay two broken mugs, the remnants of hot tea dripping through the gaps to the level below. The pair that McGruder had taken earlier.

Rimmer shook his head distantly. "Nothing," he mumbled thoughtfully. "Just the kids I think."

*********

Hiding in the shadows along the corridor, McGruder watched, trembling visibly, as the man before him retreated back into the MediBay.

Arnold J. Rimmer. The immortal deity.

His father.