"This is an SOS distress call from the mining ship Red Dwarf. The crew are dead, killed by a radiation leak. The only survivors were Dave Lister, who was in suspended animation during the disaster, and his pregnant cat, who was safely sealed in the hold. Revived three million years later, Lister's only companions are a life form who evolved from his cat, a DivaDroid mechanoid retrieved from the remnants of the Nova 5, and Arnold Rimmer, a hologram simulation of one of the dead crew. I am Holly, the ship's computer, with an IQ of 6000."

"Three million years…" repeated Steven.

"Give or take," remarked Holly.

"Wow…"

Steven's gaze locked onto the floor, the scale of time not at all penetrating his mind, instead leaving him with a dazed, fuzzy feeling in his entire body. He looked distraught, the same vacant expression that Lister recognised well. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, well, you know, it sounds big – it is big, it's a massive number," sighed Dave, leaning against the medical table to sit with the boy, "I know how you feel, man. I do. But we'll figure out what's going on, yeah? We'll figure it out."

Steven nodded, not adverting his gaze. He seemed to be in another bubble of his own, barely taking in Dave's words as a million other thoughts were racing in his head. Lister awkwardly fiddled with the buttons on his sleeves – he really wasn't good at talking to kids.

"And you have no idea how you got to be 3 million years into deep space?" probed Kryten, now deeply fascinated and eager for a response.

"No…I don't. One minute I was on Homeworld and the next I was here."

He hadn't been shy to talk about almost anything he was asked. Perhaps a bit distressed to relive it, but he had been going on about tales of sentient alien gemstones, a space dictatorship composed of diamonds, being convicted of galactic murder that his mother – who was a sentient space stone – committed, but what he actually committed too since he, somehow, was his own mother, and how he had gone on the run through their home planet when his defence accused the tyrants of murdering their own kind, Caesar style.

It was a lot to take in, and, truth be told, Dave wasn't taking most of this in in one go. Rimmer, on the other hand, had both been hovering around the other side of the medibay, acting uninterested and barely chiming in, but obviously listening eagerly when Steven would talk about his experiences with aliens.

Lister had briefly, sternly and simply told Rimmer: 'don't'. Don't interrogate him, don't make him uncomfortable, and, for smeg's sake, don't argue with him - he could be ten years old. Surprisingly, he had stuck to that so far, but most likely to save his image from quarrelling with a kid who had just barely reached double-digits. Instead, acting like anything he said was nothing more than an interstellar fairytale seemed to bring him some sort of alternative satisfaction.

"It didn't take long for the gems to come and rescue me," he continued, "Pearl and Peridot are a pretty great tag-team when it comes to building ships from human garbage. I think scraps from that one ancient gem ship we found too."

He'd often drop things into his explanations like they'd already know what he was talking about. It was another thing which made keeping up with him rather hard, and Lister assumed he didn't have much experience with explaining aspects of his life to people who wouldn't already be aware.

"They all came. And I…felt bad. No one would be there if it wasn't for me. At least Dad was back at…Beach City…"

That was the first time he had mentioned any part of his life on Earth. Steven somehow looked even more desolate, clearly uncomfortable to talk any further.

"You alright?" Dave asked quietly.

"I believe you've told us more than enough sir; you don't have to continue if it'll make you upset."

Steven had the gems in his lap. He was gently holding them in his hands, his solum expression unchanging, but clearly racing through many thoughts.

"They attacked us. They didn't do a good job of coming in secretly. They held them off for a long time, but we were on Homeworld. It was too many," he pressed the gems to his chest in what looked like a hug, "I somehow got them all when they poofed. But I don't know what happened next. I made a bubble around us and then I woke up in here."

He paused for a moment. A silence passed, and the crew allowed Steven to have it.

"Amethyst would usually be back by now," he continued, "I don't know what weapons they used on us, but they were powerful. Because I'm half human, they didn't really do much to me. But I'm worried about them. I know they'll be back at some point. They only got poofed."

Poofed, bubbled, cluster, lions, fusion, war – a lot of things mentioned that didn't get an appropriate follow-up. But he certainly didn't hold any information back. Actually, at this point he seemed to be rambling, so Lister decided to take the weight off of him for a bit.

"You see, Steven," he began, kneeling down next to the bed to face him, "We've never encountered anything like you've described before. Not even any sort of extraterrestrial life. From what you're telling us, your version of Earth didn't have the same sort of technology ours had."

Steven smiled, "I had no idea that humans actually came so far. Pearl will be pretty embarrassed to find out."

"I mean, what I'm saying is, you know, if we had been in space all this time already," he paused, "And these gems wanted to destroy the Earth," he paused again, explaining it slowly, "Then don't you think we'd have encountered them by now?"

Steven simply shrugged, "Maybe my Earth is a different Earth to your Earth."

Fair point.

"May I ask what year you were born in, sir?" asked Kryten.

"2003."

"2003. A full 152 years before Mr Lister was born and a full 337 years before I was even made."

"Oh, wow…" said Steven, "That means I'm the oldest one here!"

"Right then," began Rimmer, "Let's have a talk, shall we?"

They had left Steven to have a bit of space for a while. He had become more chipper towards the end of their talk, but it was clear that he had gotten himself worked up at various points. He had clearly been through a lot either way. They left him with, after making sure he could physically consume things, a plate of hot food – of which he was very, very thankful for – and Holly to keep an eye on him.

When they left the room, Rimmer had looked at the human and mechanoid with a flat, agitated glare. It was clear that they were going to get it in the neck now.

"Go on then, Rimmer, hit us," encouraged Dave, retuning his guitar.

"Well," he began, "I think we can all agree that was certainly fascinating. You all know me – aliens! And, as intriguing, as utterly, profoundly beguiling as that all was, well, I have to say…that was all complete and utter childish nonsense and the lot of you were gullible idiots for taking any of it seriously."

Lister laughed and shook his head.

"Here we go."

"Firstly, are we just supposed to believe that he comes from a different dimension or, well, whatever!? One filled with jewels from distant space, the very same that we find here on Earth, somehow very, conveniently humanoid looking, which have a ginormous dictatorship, deadset on eliminating our planet? And that his mother was the one to dismantle the entire operation?"

"If I must chime in and add something, sir," began Kryten, "I find it quite strange that you're saying that this is all an impractical notion when you quite literally share the same vessel with an evolved, humanoid species of a common housecat."

"Evolution is more believable than walking, talking, fighting rocks, Kryten."

"Well…" he began, "Is it? In the vast expanse of the galaxy, surely there will be things, creatures even, that are perfectly practical in rationality but make absolutely no sense to us."

"How do we even know they looked humanoid? He just said they were his family," added Dave.

"Of course they looked humanoid, dolt," sighed Rimmer, "I'd be very concerned if his father saw a lump of mismatched rocks with legs running around and thought 'yes, that's the woman for me, I want to have a baby with it'."

"Funny you should mention that Rimmer, because I often think that about your father and all."

"Shut up, Lister," he barked.

Dave chortled stupidly, clearly taking none of this seriously. He looked oddly to be in quite good spirits, an emotion he hadn't seen on Lister in quite some time now.

"I mean, even down to the basic levels. What kind of name is Universe? Steven Universe. It sounds like some sort of…children's cartoon show. In fact, from the way he was talking about everything, he made himself sound like the main character of everything he was describing. How can we trust someone who refers to the events around them like they all revolve around him?"

"In that case, why are we talking to you, Rimmer?"

"Lister, I said shut up!"

Kryten shook his head.

"I think it's incredibly unfair for you to hold what is obviously a child to such a high degree of criticism and doubt," he began, "He's only a little boy. And, admittedly, through my time of serving humankind, I personally haven't had the opportunity to care for children – well, other than when you gave birth, Mr Lister, sir, but I know you don't like that being brought up."

"Yeah, thank you, Kryten," Dave said sarcastically.

"But I personally believe he's telling the truth, just from the way he sees it. He's very young and he's obviously been through very much already."

"In other words, back off, Rimmer," added Dave.

Rimmer huffed, pacing to the other side of the room, "Firstly, you have no ground to tell me how I should and should not feel, Kryten, we've been over this and you need to get that into your programming," ordered Rimmer as Kryten looked mildly flustered, "Secondly, you're all acting like I'm this big, cruel villain who wants to throw him off the ship! Honestly, you think I'm all that bad! I'm just being the realistic one, as neither of you ever are, and god knows Cat wouldn't be either. Have we all forgotten about the Polymorph? I certainly haven't, it only happened a couple of months ago! I am just saying, urging, that we as a unit need to me more critical over what mysterious space creatures we end up dragging into Red Dwarf."

"Yeah, Rimmer, you see, that's a good point and all," said Dave, "But everybody on this ship knows that you can be a bit, what's the word…completely and totally heartless. You'd throw anybody off this ship if you were suspicious enough."

"That's total nonsense, Lister!" he argued, "You know I'd only push him out if there was enough damning evidence!"

"And that's my point," Dave sighed, "But there will be no throwing, no pushing, no discarding, or anything else that you'd want to do if you could, Rimmer. I trust him and he's staying."

"Fine!" he snapped, "Your funeral."

"Better make it a good one then, shouldn't you, Rimmer?" he guffawed, finishing up his tuning and licking out a completely horrid but enthusiastic guitar rift.

"You're in embarrassingly good spirits over this, aren't you?" grumbled Arnold as he sat down.

"And why shouldn't I be?" he smiled, "You do realise that to get here, he had to come from somewhere? And that means it's likely he there's a way back there. Back to Earth."

"Although the same thought has indeed crossed my mind too, sir," began Kryten, "Even he has no idea how he got here. Who's to say we can find him a way back?"

"But he got here somehow, didn't he? It can't have been one way, it can't. We have plenty of time, all the time in the world to figure something out. Especially if his guardians or whatever are going to come back out of those gems, it's practically a free ticket."

"You'd be content with living almost 200 years in the past?" asked Rimmer.

"Whose to say it can't take me back to me own time too? My own world. Even so, Rimmer, I've told you before that Earth right here right now could be overrun by massive, evolved moths or my sock pile I left back at me old house – Earth is Earth. I have no problem with it. His Earth would have their own Liverpool, their own Fiji, and that's enough for me, you know? Besides…Beach City…" he trailed off dreamily as he continued to poorly strum his guitar, "That's where he lives, isn't it? Doesn't sound half bad there and all."

"Well, that's just selfish then, Lister, isn't it?" Rimmer sneered, "An unwell child washes up into our hull and the only thing you can think about is how it benefits yourself."

"Hey now, hold on, no, don't say that," Lister quickly responded, sounding agitated as he stopped playing his guitar, "Of course I care about him! Of course I want him to go back for his own sake too! I mean you saw him too, when he was explaining everything, the poor little guy looked so sad. I'm just excited because…it's exciting. You know, for a while now I've been feeling hopeless about getting back to Earth. But now there's suddenly a chance that probably doesn't involve getting tangled up in a duff timeline or rocketing through space at lightspeed and catching a glimpse of me own death. But I feel good about this, I feel optimistic about this, and even if you don't, Rimmer, I won't let you spoil this for me."

Dave strummed his guitar in defiance as he went to leave the room. Rimmer just shook his head as he looked at Kryten, who avoided his gaze.

"Holly," Dave called out to the monitor, summoning the platinum blonde to the room, "Holly, how's Cat doin', man? Is he better?"

"Hello Dave. In one instance, yes, The Cat is indeed doing better and has left the medical bay."

"Brills," enthused Dave, "Better go and fill him in then."

"But on the other, I wouldn't say he's doing too positively considering he's currently trying to ward off being strangled to death by a couple of unidentified, sentient blue limbs."

"You what?!" Dave exclaimed as Rimmer and Kryten rushed to stand up.

"Steven Universe seems to know what is going on and is currently requesting permission to leave the medical bay to go and help him."