Chapter 5
Attention

First Technician Arnold J. Rimmer stood, back straight, shoulders squared, his hair pointing in every compass direction possible and a few that weren't, stood at attention awaiting this snap inspection since 3:57 am.

His senior officer had yet to appear on the scene, which bothered the semi naked Rimmer, standing bare footed on the cold metal floor of his living quarters. Holly had woken Rimmer twenty two minutes earlier with the sonic boom alarm, announcing the snap inspection which would immediately follow. Theoretically.

This was the fifth such snap inspection of the week. Rimmer wouldn't have minded so much but it was only Tuesday. Actually monday night. But orders are orders, and Old Iron Balls wouldn't be found wanting, except maybe for his slippers.

"That's how did you do, Mister Lister sir." This is how it all began.

Actually that's not entirely true. It had started when Lister had asked Rimmer to give him Kachanski's Hologramatic Disc, enabling Lister to go on one date with a certain late navigation officer. "Four hours," Lister pleaded. But the first technician was not to be shaken, Impossibly zealous, probably mad was the official comments on Arnold J. Rimmer, and they couldn't have been more accurate.

You see one of the fundamental problems with said Technician was that to him people didn't really exist. Sure they were there, to get in your way, to abuse you, to order you about and make one's life a living hell. So early on Rimmer introverted his feelings, his emotions and everything else that was not already introverted. If he could have gotten his belly button in any further, he would have do that as well, just in case.

Now that the crew, never mind the human race, were dead and he was in charge, Old A.J. was going to get back his due, with interest. Sure when Lister was on Zed shift he would be able to tell him what to do, push him around. But off hours were Lister's own, the stupid gimboit.

Now that he was in charge of the ship, and was entirely composed of light, which hadn't done anything to brighten up his disposition, he would get to start really using his power.

Shortly after the original altercation Dave Lister's easy going, devil may care attitude brain, had finally had enough. If a brain had pecs, then Rimmer would be getting on them. Everybody has their breaking point and Lister's had been reached, from this came the plan. The plan for Lister to become an officer.

It didn't matter what kind of officer mind you, just so it would enable him to order Rimmer to give up Kachanski's disc and finally the last human being alive in the universe could get a date. Talk about your loser. Maybe he'd have Rimmer jump through a hoop now and again, that wouldn't be bad either. Nothing mean mind you, just a wee vindictive.

"Twenty seven smegging minutes," thought the first technician, who was now the lowest ranking crew member on the ship. "Only three more minutes and I've got him, the smegged up little puss filled cold sore." Precisely at 4:26 and forty five seconds the only known officer left in the Space Corps strolled through the door of his ex-sleeping quarters wearing his hat, stained long johns, and a can of lager. His pip were worn on his deer stalker cap, not unlike a Russian commander.

Holly announced, "Attention!"

Rimmer snapped to attention. The same stance he had been holding for the last half hour, stamped his right foot, went into a standard
Space Corps salute, almost breaking his wrist in the barely successful attempt to stop it from going into all five circles of Rimmer's own personal salute. The one he had sent into the recommendations department of the Space Corps.

The forbidding of Rimmer's salute was the third decisive command made by the new regime. The removal of all sprouts, and fresh vegetables from dietary regulations were numbers four and five.

"Holly take this down. General quater's condition still untidy." Lister walked to the door frame, took out a white oven mitten and wiped the top of the door frame with it.

"Dust everywhere."

Walking over to Rimmer and looking past him.
"Bunk unmade."

"My word Mr. Rimmer," said Lister. "As many violations as in as many minutes. How do you think this will look on your permanent record? Hummmmmmmm?" Taunted Lister, hummmming directly into Rimmer's face.

"Permission to speak," requested Rimmer.

"Permission granted."

"Can I possibly get my socks on," Rimmer hesitated, then he forced the words out of his mouth, "Mister Lister Sir." Bile mixed with gasoline to drink would be easier to swallow. The pain showed on Rimmer's face.
Addressing Lister as Mr. Lister Sir, and only that, was the second
major act of the new regime.

"Permission denied."

"Holly how many times has Second Technician Rimmer been put on report?" Lister stopped put one hand on his chest and the lager filled one out towards Holly's image, then belched loudly.

"Since I've been in charge?" Questioned Lister then wiping his mouth using his arm.

"Seventy two," answered Holly. "Not counting the ten demerits for
mucking up the Starbug paint job."

"It was the scutter's fault, Inky and Blinky aren't what they used to be.
Besides how was I supposed to know that mixing the last gallons of the
undercoating paints together would cause such a mess?" Rimmer whined.

"Yea sure it's always the same with you Rimmer. How was I supposed to know, it's not my fault, and my personal favorite: I'm allergic to that.
Why are you so utterly useless? Now instead of having a half red,
half white, undercoated Starbug, we've got ourselves a pink one." Lister sighed.

"Sorry", pause, "Mister Lister Sir. I promise it will never ever ever happen again. I'll put it on tomorrow's daily goals list."

"And I'll post it on the official roster," Lister Growled. "Now get on watch duty Use Navi Turret 110. Now!"
Rimmer marched out of the room still in a state of undressedness.
Lister almost felt bad treating Rimmer as he had treated Lister only days earlier. Still a smirk tugged at the right corner of his mouth.

"Useless," Said Lister absently, while walking out the doorway.

Entering the lift Lister punched in the appropriate numbers
"How come," he thought. "Some people have no problem treating other people like smeg. But others, like me the sap I am, don't get any satisfaction from it?"
A little voice came from the back of Davie Lister's mind. It whispered "Because you failed the chef's exam. Because you lied."

Dave thought about this for a moment. No that wasn't it. He dismissed the little voice, and walked out the lift and down a hall. The truth of the matter was that he now possessed Kachanski's hologramatic disc.
But was afraid to use it.
Then nothing.