Author's Note: And now, to wrap up Series VI, we have the finale! Goodness knows when Series VII will start, but the good news is I've already written some chunks of it. Just none of them are from the first part. Still, what is time, anyway?

Enjoy!

Rimmer's head swam groggily as he tried to recall everything that had gotten him to this point. He definitely remembered that morning when he'd called a 'moral meeting' so for the purpose of calling the others a bunch of gits, if only to get it all off his chest. What with his stress disorder, he found it most refreshing, and the others hadn't seemed to mind - Kochanski seemed to downright giggle at a few of the insults aimed at her - and he'd gone up to his quarters until the auto-pilot alert summoned them to the cockpit.

It got a little foggy after that, but now that he thought about it, the word 'foggy' actually seemed appropriate. Something about fog in space. His head hurt, but he couldn't raise his hand to rub it. He realized his arms couldn't move at all, nor could his legs, thanks to what felt like heavy-duty wires wrapped around his wrists and ankles.

He blinked his way back into consciousness and peered up at his crewmates standing over him, all looking deadly serious. Cat clutched a bazookoid while Kryten and Kochanski stood on either side of him with their arms crossed. He managed to get his vocal chords working and asked the question of the day.

"What the hell are you all doing?"

"We want answers," said Kochanski firmly.

Rimmer regarded her for a moment. She resembled a drill sergeant, in both manner and tone. "So do I, actually," he replied. "Why am I tied up?"

"Because we don't know what you'll do now that we know your secret," replied Cat, his thumb waiting patiently on the bazookoid trigger.

Rimmer stared blankly. "What secret?"

"You know what secret," Kryten said in an intensity Rimmer hadn't seen from him before. "That dirty rotten shameful secret that decays you from the inside out until you're nothing more than a worm-filled carcass rotting on some highway in Cardiff."

Rimmer felt nauseous, both from the vivid imagery and from the first thought that entered his head. "Oh god, is this about my Uncle Frank?"

Kryten's glare shifted to a look of bemusement. "Your Uncle Frank, sir?"

"Look, it's not what you think! He got the wrong room! He thought I was my mum!"

The others looked somewhere between confused and intrigued, but Kochanski apparently decided not to pursue it for now. "No," she said slowly. "This is about the fact that you're an android duplicate of Rimmer."

Rimmer looked between them in confusion. "Wait, what?!"

Cat frowned. "I don't think he knows," he said quietly.

"Knows what?! Will someone please condescend to tell me what you're all smoking?!"

Kochanski cleared her throat. "Well, see, something happened in the stellar fog. Didn't show up on the scans. Knocked you out cold."

"You see, sir," Kryten continued, "while you were out, we discovered something rather disturbing about you."

Rimmer glared. "Hey, don't go judging, Action Man Groin."

Kryten ignored the jab and reluctantly soldiered on. "There's no way of breaking this gently. I'm afraid, sir, that you are not human. You are a droid."

"I'm a what?!"

"You're a mechanical. 3000 Series. Technically, subordinate to me," he added almost a tiny bit giddily.

Rimmer tried to comprehend what the mech told him, but it still didn't feel real. "I'm a robot? I look more human than you!"

"Indeed, sir. Humans have always found exact duplicates rather disturbing, sir. The 3000 Series was notoriously unpopular. Many were recalled, but a few slipped the net and made new lives in society."

"And that's what you think I did?"

"No," said Kochanski firmly. "You can't have been a robot all this time. Our theory is that someone took the real Rimmer and swapped him with an android duplicate to cover it up. The main thing we need to figure out is how long ago this happened and if we can save him"

That did sound like something that could happen, but Rimmer still felt odd. Almost like the life had been sucked right out of him - if he'd ever had any life to begin with. "What does this mean for me, then?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, in broad terms," said Kryten calmly, "I get the front seat in the cockpit, and you're in charge of the laundry!" He slammed down a nearby laundry basket in front of him. "And I want to see creases!"

Rimmer stared at the mech incredulously. "Smeg off!" he snapped. "Even if I'm not really Rimmer, I'm Rimmer enough that I don't take orders from you, Mr Bog Bot From Hell!"

"You're a droid! You don't have real emotions! Now kindly stop acting like a human and go about your duties!"

"Okay, that's enough," Kochanski said sternly. "Kryten, I think you've forgotten the point of this interrogation."

"Better not untie me just yet, or I'm going to re-educate the smeg out of him," growled Rimmer.

"So what do we do with him?" demanded the Cat, already lowering his bazookoid.

Kochanski looked at Rimmer for a long moment before sighing. "He's clearly still Rimmer enough that we can trust him around the controls. But we'll be keeping an eye on him." She gave Kryten a look. "Agreed."

Kryten scowled but nodded. "Understood, ma'am."

After getting Rimmer to promise that he wouldn't grab the nearest spanner and pummel Kryten to a pulp with it, they untied him and allowed him back into the cockpit, although Kryten took over the helm with Cat, relegating Rimmer to the backseat, much to his annoyance.

They barely travelled ten seconds before a jolt bumped them around in their seats.

"It's like we went through some kind of energy pocket," said Kochanski.

"Kryten - see if this sort of thing is recorded in the database," Rimmer said, already typing at his station.

"I do not take orders from an inferior droid," Kryten replied testily. "Least of all from one programmed to act like Arnold Rimmer!"

Rimmer almost leapt from his seat. "Your nose is about to be the filling of a buttock sandwich, miladdo!"

"Boys! Shut up!" Kochanski shouted, getting between them and giving Rimmer a shove back into his chair. "Kryten. Scan. Now."

Kryten glared. "Yes. Ma'am. Doing it now, ma'am." He tapped a few buttons on the keyboard, and a few minutes later - during which Rimmer glared fiercely at him while Cat sat uncomfortably in the pilot's chair - he found what they needed.

"Reports of artificial stellar fogs which contain reality minefields."

Cat frowned. "Reality what?"

"Bubbles or pockets of unreality," Kryten read on, "which, when encountered, create false realities designed to disorient and drive off potential looters."

"From what?" asked Kochanski.

"It's a defence device fitted to space corp test ships which are fitted with prototype drives so awesome in their power that they have to be safeguarded at all costs."

"So we just crashed through an unreality pocket?"

"Which created a false reality, leading us to believe Mr… Rimmer… is… Oh my."

They all stared at him as the implications set in, and Kryten nervously tapped his fingers on his chest plate as the crushing realization well and truly crushed him.

Cat leaned over and asked in a low voice, "You mean, he's not a…?"

"No," Kryten confirmed sheepishly.

Rimmer got up from his chair and slowly strode over to Kryten, who seemed to sink lower and lower into his chair. "So…," he drawled in his smuggest voice. "Who's in my chair…?"

Kryten squirmed with shame as he scuttled out of the front seat and backed away fearfully. "Oh, sir," he wailed. "I don't know how I can apologize! I can have myself minced immediately if you so wish!"

Rimmer settled back into his chair, not even bothering to look at him. "Don't worry, Kryten. Just know that somehow, someday, when you least suspect," he paused to finally give him a very evil smile, "I'll be getting you good and proper."

The mech wailed sadly as he scuttled back to his seat.

"Well!" said Kochanski, hoping to restore order at last. "Now that we know we're in a reality minefield, what do we propose we do?"

"The fog only gets thicker the further we go," Rimmer said, eyeing the scans unfavorably. "I say reverse out now before it's too late."

"I hate to agree with old Laundry Shoot Nostrils," added the Cat, "but he has got a point. Our scanners are down, and my smell range is practically zero."

"My question is, what are they protecting?" Kochanski mused. "I'd like to see this test ship supposedly at the heart of this cloud."

They reluctantly agreed, but the unreality pockets got disorienting. First, the Cat got erased from existence for about thirty seconds, freaking him out immensely. Then, their heads got swapped out for various animal heads, although for some reason, the mouths didn't move. At one point, Starbug disappeared entirely, and they had to watch the stars around them whiz past as they sat in their chairs and tried not to freak out.

Eventually, they stopped and found it would take at least three days of this to make it to the center of the fog, but rather than turn around and go back, Kryten hit on the idea to install a temporary stasis seal on the deep sleep units, meaning that neither reality nor unreality could penetrate. Rimmer and Cat got into one while Kochanski and Kryten got in the other, and they all got comfortable as they rose up into the ceiling and blanked out.

Deep Sleep didn't feel much like stasis, but they eventually popped out only dimly aware they'd been sitting for three days. They took a few moments to stretch and get comfortable moving again before Kryten checked the computers and confirmed that they'd made it through the stellar fog and found the source.

"Derelict," Kochanski noted as she read the screens. Her eyebrows furrowed. "This can't be right."

"What can't?" asked Rimmer.

"It says this ship is from the twenty-eighth century, and it comes complete with a time machine!"

"Indeed," confirmed Kryten, looking at the screen as well. "Says here the crew died of an influenza virus during a maiden voyage to the seventeenth century. Before they died, they programmed the auto-pilot for deep space and deployed the unreality pockets to ward off looters."

They all looked at each other for a few seconds, each one weighing their options.

"So what do we do with it now that we've found it?" asked the Cat.

Kochanski shrugged. "I mean, I guess we could try it out."

Rimmer frowned. "Do you think we could?"

"The time drive should be compatible with Starbug's engines," Kryten confirmed.

"Okay, next question - do you think we should?"

"Why not? We ought to try. I mean, as long as we're careful and don't step on any butterflies, we should be fine."

Rimmer shifted uncomfortably as they all eyed him. Not smiling, he said, "Okay."

A few hours later, they'd boarded the ship - which seemed to change shape four times while they explored it, but they chalked that up to all the unreality bubbles - and found the drive. They combined it with Starbug's engines and wired it up to a handheld remote in the cockpit. After a bit of jiggery-pokery, they had it up and running.

Deciding to play it safe for their first jaunt, Kryten programmed for August the sixteenth, 1421, and after a trippy red light show, they jolted into the new year.

"Give us visual," said Kochanski. "Let's see what it's like out there."

Rimmer punched up the viewscreen, and they stared at the twinkling field of stars.

"We… didn't move," he said.

"Not through space, sir, no," said Kryten happily, "but we moved in time!"

Kochanski blinked twice before she finally realized. "So, we're still in deep space, just in the fifteenth century?!"

"Yes, ma'am! Isn't that wonderful?"

Rimmer looked back at him disbelievingly. "You mean we're still three million years away from Earth?"

Kryten's smile wilted slightly. "Well, yes," he replied, as if it were blatantly obvious.

Kochanski shook her head. "Just take us back to the present."

Kryten pressed a few buttons, and they jolted back into the year they'd left, whichever one that was.

Once they'd stabilized, Rimmer leaned back in his chair and swiveled around to glare at them. "So!" he said. "Forgive me if I'm being thicker than the offspring of a village idiot and a TV weathergirl, but what exactly was the point of that little exercise? Fun though it was drinking in the heady atmosphere of pre-Renaissance Deep Space, the drive is next to useless, yes?"

Kryten shrugged helplessly. "For the moment, yes, but should we ever acquire a faster-than-light drive, we shall have the combination to travel anywhere and anywhen!"

"And we're finding one of those where exactly?" Kochanski demanded.

"I can start searching for another test ship, ma'am, but it may take some time."

Cat finally spoke up. "Picking up a craft!"

They all whirled around in their seats, startled. "You're sure?" asked Rimmer.

"Absolutely, bud. My nostril hairs are like a nervous blancmange in an earthquake."

Kochanski eyed her radar screen. "Says here we've got a small shuttlecraft heading our way."

Rimmer tapped a few buttons and checked the readouts. "Confirmed. Color green, life forms…" His voice trailed off in bemusement.

Kochanski peered at him, concerned. "Rimmer? Cliffhangers are exciting, but not mid-sentence."

Clearing his throat, Rimmer continued. "The craft's name is Starbug."

They all looked at each other, processing what he'd just said.

"Call me crazy," said Cat thoughtfully, "but that all sounds weirdly familiar."

Rimmer punched up a magnified image, and they saw an identical green beetle-shaped ship soaring straight for them. Didn't look any older than their own, so they clearly kept it in decent shape.

"Is that… us?" Kochanski asked quietly.

"Mr Rimmer, you never finished your sentence," Kryten said. "About the life forms onboard?"

Rimmer looked back at his screen. "Life forms… five."

Kochanski's eyes widened and she leapt from her seat to look over his shoulder at the readout. "Are you sure? Five?!"

"Five, Kris. Yes. The number between four and six."

"But how?! How can there be five?!" She started stabbing his buttons and got some extra details. One human, one humanoid, one mechanoid, one hologram, one unknown. "One unknown?! What does that mean?!"

"Well, we can find out," said Cat, gesturing to a flashing light, "because they're sending us an SOS message."

Kryten jumped to his feet urgently. "Don't punch it up! Close comms!"

Cat's finger froze halfway to the button, looking back at him in alarm. "Okay," he said slowly, "but I don't think that's gonna make them go away."

"If that vessel is this vessel, sir, almost certainly it contains our future selves! The consequences of interacting could be devastating! The human brain is not designed to cope with knowing its own future!"

Kochanski glared at him. "Well, if you know that, then the you on that ship must know it, too, and he's decided he doesn't give a damn!"

Rimmer, however, gently put a hand on her arm. "Kris, he's got a point. It's too dangerous to make contact. What if we discover that one of us is dead? Who could handle that?"

"We all could if it was you," replied Cat.

The light on the desk flashed a second time, indicating another SOS from the other ship.

"So what's the plan? We just leave them for dead?" Kochanski asked, still glaring at the mech.

Kryten held up his hands to placate her. "Suggest you leave me alone to make contact, ma'am. I can give them whatever assistance they require, then erase my memory of the entire event."

"And what if you can't handle it?"

"If, for any reason, I lose my sanity and am forced to self-destruct, at least I shall die knowing there's a month's supply of tasty pre-cooked mini-meals in the refrigeration unit, and my life will not have been in vain."

Kochanski had so many objections she wanted to raise. She wanted to know all about her future, what they accomplished, but most of all, she wanted to know who the hell this fifth crew member was. She glanced across at the SOS alert and felt her impulsive need to investigate.

"Come on, Officer Bud Babe," Cat said. "Remember the old cat saying - 'curiosity killed the human'. We listen to the flat-headed one and vamoose."

"Agreed," said Rimmer. "He has a head shaped like an inexplicably popular fishing float, but he's still right about this."

Outnumbered, Kochanski relented. "Okay, fine," she said. "We'll be in the mid-section."

Kryten nodded and stepped aside to allow them to step out single file. The door hissed shut behind them and left them standing in a small triangle trying to figure out what to do next? She looked to the others, then glanced across the room and spotted a drawer in the wall. She pulled it open and found a deck of cards.

"Poker?"

Thirty minutes later, they sat around the scanner table on their third game, and the Cat was winning, despite not knowing anything about a poker face - which had happened a few other times they'd played, too, for some reason - when they heard the door slide open, and in walked Kryten, wringing his plastic hands and generally fretting a bit, like he had something big on his conscience.

"Okay, what happened?" Kochanski asked, already dreading the answer but not in the mood to dance around the unpleasantness.

Kryten looked at her for a long moment before putting a hand on her shoulder. "I just want to say, Miss Kochanski, ma'am, that you're an exemplary woman, and you should take pride in your accomplishments, regardless of whether or not you have a man in your life."

Kochanski's brain went into overdrive trying to decipher whatever cryptic code the mech spoke in, but she knew the likelihood that Kryten simply spoke without thinking was just as likely. "Thank you, Kryten," she said at last. "Now is there anything you can tell us?"

"A little, ma'am. They are, indeed, our future selves from some fifteen years hence. All I'm allowed to divulge is that their own time drive has developed a fault, and they can only travel forwards. They jumped to a point where they knew we would be in order to copy components from our own drive."

Cat's eyes lit up. "So am I actually going to meet me? My knees have turned to jelly!"

"No one will be meeting anyone," Kryten said firmly. "I'm to seal you in the upper-decks before they set a space boot onboard."

Rimmer looked at him suspiciously. "So when are they coming?"

"Immediately. I'll serve your supper in the ops room."

Twenty minutes later, Rimmer and Cat sat on the bunks and ate their meals off TV trays. Kochanski's meal sat on a third tray going cold while she worked at the medi-scanner.

"What precisely are you doing, Officer BB?" Cat asked between bites.

"Rigging up the medi-scan to the security cameras, since MechBob SquareHead disabled all the screens," she replied. "I need to know who this fifth crew member is. Why didn't their life sign register on the scans? Are they animal, vegetable or mineral? Or some weird combination of the three?"

Rimmer set his empty plate aside and walked over. "You're just hoping it's him, aren't you? That somehow, across all of time and space, you finally found him."

Kochanski glared at him. "I'm supposed to find him at some point. If we got the time drive working properly in the future, maybe we can find him."

"And suppose you find out it isn't him? Or it is him, but not as you remember him?"

"Who the hell is 'him'?" Cat demanded from his bunk.

"Lister," Kochanski said softly. "I know it's silly, but… I just keep hoping maybe someday…"

"And with each someday that passes, your perception of him gets increasingly warped," Rimmer said sternly. "Seriously, take it from someone who used to bunk with the guy. He was a disgusting, tasteless, uncouth, mindless, directionless space bum with dreadlocks and a wide variety of Hawaiian shirts. Whatever you've built him up as in your head, it's not the real thing."

Kochanski slumped over the medi-scanner, feeling his words crash over her. She knew he was right. That's the problem with having feelings for someone you couldn't interact with and get to know properly. She only had five weeks' worth of memories to go on, and those continued to slip further and further into the past. She steeled her resolve and continued working.

"I still want to see him again," she said. "Even if it's just to find out we never would've worked, I still need to see him. If only to tell him I'm sorry for ditching him. For going back to Tim. For not giving us a fair chance."

Rimmer didn't say anything for a moment. She struggled with a cable for a few seconds, wondering why this wouldn't fit into the socket properly. Damn thing kept sliding out. Then, a moment later, another cable entered her field of vision, and she looked up to see Rimmer holding it out to her.

"I think you'll find this one fits better."

Kochanski stared at him, and then saw that in her sorrow, she'd grabbed the wrong one. She sheepishly dropped it and took the correct one, plugging it in. He nodded and went back to the bunk. She appreciated that about him. No words needed.

Kryten braced himself as he stood by the airlock. The docking had gone smoothly, and their future selves would enter at any moment. He could hear footsteps inside, milling around as they all entered.

At last, the door slid open, and in walked the first. He recognized the nostrils at once, aged though they were with a dark gray mustache. "Ah, Mr Rimmer, sir! Welcome!"

The future Rimmer stepped inside, looking very different from the man he'd come to know and sort-of love. The man before him stood with a noticeable paunch, with his hair gone completely gray, not to mention bigger and thicker. He wore a large canary yellow waistcoat that Kryten had to adjust his eyes' brightness and contrast to look at it, along with a deep red shirt and trousers. He hobbled around the midsection with a look of distaste. "Did we actually used to live like this?" he wheezed. "What a god awful depressing little hole!"

Kryten looked back just in time to spot the future Cat walk in next, wearing a red plaid jacket over his usual PVC bodysuit, but also with long gray hair that undoubtedly would be gone soon. Not quite as plump as the future Rimmer, he still had a slightly waddle as he entered. "We're used to the good things in life now, bud!" he grunted cheerily as he combed his hair. To his apparent embarrassment, a large tuft came out, and he sheepishly tried to stick it back onto his chrome dome.

Then, in walked the future Kryten, wearing, of all things, a powder blue leisure suit with a white turtleneck and a medallion that wouldn't have looked out of place at a 1970s mixer with a curly black toupee on his head with two prominent black eyebrows glued on.

"Goodness! Are you really me?!" Kryten exclaimed.

The future Kryten chuckled at his crewmates. "Would you take a look at him? Did I really used to look that goofy?"

Kryten's indignation chip flared. "What is that you've got on your head?! I hope you've got a quarantine license for it!"

"We're time travellers now, and a lot of our work involves going back in history," the future Kryten said condescendingly. "I have to look incognito. Frankly, I can't afford to look like I've swapped heads with a damaged crash dummy."

His feathers considerably ruffled, Kryten soldiered on. "I believe we're overstepping the bounds of agreed conversation here."

"All right, boys!" a voice bellowed from the airlock. "Break it up! Let mummy in!"

Kryten jumped at the voice while the future crew just rolled their eyes, well familiar with that tone. He watched as in waddled the future Kochanski, lifting one hefty leg in front of the other. Her plump face lit up in an amused grin as she took in Kryten, who took a few steps back to accommodate her arrival. He eyed a small package covered in a silk sheet she held at her side.

"Oh my god, look at you!" she squealed, sounding very much like an old grandma. "Herman Munster's stuntman! So precious!"

"Miss Kochanski?" Kryten asked warily.

"Hello, dear! Gosh, you're so young! It's amazing!" Her face fell as she took in the ship. "Eugh. This is not."

"Tell me about it," grunted the future Rimmer. "Look at all the grime on these walls. Ought to have it carbon dated."

Kryten shifted awkwardly. "Is, um… the final member of your party…?"

Future Kochanski lifted up the parcel and set it on the scanner table, removing the silk sheet. Right away, Kryten could see this fellow didn't look well. A brain in a jar of thick yellow liquid with a few flashing lights on it, a speaker grille and some dreadlocks tied to the lid.

"Ah, Mr Lister, sir!" Kryten said brightly. "What a pleasure to properly meet you at last!"

"Hey, Krytes!" the future Lister said cheerfully. "How you doin', kid?"

"Quite relieved to see you looking so spritely!" Kryten lied cheerfully. "Honestly, if I hadn't been told about the accident, I don't think I'd even have noticed!" Then, as quietly as he could, he hissed to the rest of the future crew, "Why couldn't you let him die?!"

Future Kochanski gasped. "I went through all of time and space for this man!" she said defensively. "I wasn't going to let a little thing like death get in the way of it! Love means never saying goodbye, right, Dave?"

"Too right, luv," Future Lister replied, his jar bubbling away.

Kryten watched them with increasing dread. Already, things were much worse than he'd feared. He may have to self-destruct after all. Still, he had guests to serve, so he'd better see to that before any further thoughts of suicide. Only polite, of course.

Kochanski let out a victorious whoop as the image on the medi-scanner sprang into life. "Got it!" she exclaimed. "Let's have a look at us!"

Rimmer and Cat immediately crowded around her as she adjusted the visual. She caught a flash of yellow and laughed.

"Oh, Rimmer," she let out a chuckle.

"Is it bad?" he asked worriedly.

"No, not too bad. You look like a standard old person. Of course, my corneas may be forever short-circuited by that bright yellow waistcoat of yours."

"Am I there?" Cat asked eagerly.

"Indeed, you are," she said, moving the camera around with the knobs.

"What do I look like?"

She struggled and failed to keep herself from giggling like a schoolgirl. "Fat, bald and wearing plaid."

She glanced up to see the horrified look on his face, and it did not disappoint. "What?! Let me see!"

She shrugged him off and continued adjusting the camera. She laughed uproariously. "Boys, relax, you both look way better than Kryten! He's dressed like a '70s gigolo with a rug!"

Rimmer's eyes widened in delight. "Kryten's wearing a rug?!"

"What about you? Are you there?!" Cat asked.

"Hang on a second," Kochanski frowned. "Something must be wrong with the camera. The whole screen has gone blue, no matter how much I zoom out…" She paused as the image came into sharp focus. "Oh," she said at last. "That's my jacket."

Rimmer frowned. "So, you're…?"

"Fat," she replied. "Really fat." She looked a little longer. "Re-e-e-e-e-e-e-eally fat." She pulled back, looking down at herself before looking back again. "Still," she amended, "I think I carry it well."

"Well, it's good to know we all get hit good and hard with the 'old stick'," Rimmer sighed.

"But what about the fifth one?" Cat asked. "Are they there?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Kochanski replied. "I just see us, Kryten, and…" She trailed off when she focused on something on the scanner table. "Oh my god."

"What? What is it?!"

"It's a brain in a jar!"

Rimmer balked. "It's a what?!"

"There's a brain in a jar on the scanner table! It's got a speaker and lights and…" She trailed off as her eyes fell on the dreadlocks. She looked up, the horror of it all settling in. She staggered away in shock.

With the scanner now free, Rimmer took over looking. After two seconds, he announced, "Oh-h-h-h-h-h, dear!"

"What could've happened?" she mumbled. "How the hell could this have happened?"

"How could've what happened?" Cat demanded.

"Ironic that he's the only one of us to lose weight," Rimmer remarked. "That's Lister."

Cat immediately pushed him aside to look. "That is tragic," he said quietly. "That is the saddest thing I've ever seen in my life!" He looked at her, almost close to tears. "What happened to my butt?! Buddy, you park a plane in that crease!"

Kochanski stared at him incredulously. "I've just discovered that my future self is toting around my ex-boyfriend's reanimated brain in a jar, and you're worried that your arse is too big?!"

Cat looked at her in disgust. "Self, self, self, self, self!"

"Cat, you're stuttering," Rimmer chided.

Kochanski began fiddling with the scanner again. She needed to know more. She got the volume working, and they listened to the dinner below.

Kryten poured wine for everyone. "This is our only bottle of real wine. We've been saving it for a special occasion, and what could be more special than this?" he said pleasantly. He'd gotten over the cosmetic differences between the future crew and the current one, and he'd decided to press on. Maybe there would be more to them than he thought. He raised his glass. "To the future!"

"To the past," replied future Kryten, as they all raised their glasses with him.

They all took a sip, and the entire future crew did a massive spit take.

"This is poison, bud!" Future Cat hissed.

"Haven't you got anything better than this hogwash? We're used to the best!" Future Rimmer added sharply.

Kryten shifted uncomfortably. So much for that. "Er, we don't have access to all the finest wines time has to offer, sir," he said, trying to remain polite. He picked up a plate and passed it to them. "Perhaps you would like to try the caviar, though. We've been saving it for a special day."

They all tried it, but they all made childish faces of distaste. "This isn't beluga caviar, it's sevruga!" snapped Future Rimmer. "How dare you fob us off with second best!"

"Oh god," gagged Future Kochanski. "I don't think I can eat this, and that's saying something."

Future Kryten seemed to have some sympathy for his younger self. "Kryten, we're epicures now," he explained. "We travel through history enjoying the very best time has to offer."

Future Kochanski grinned happily at the thought. "Dolphin sweetmeats, roast suckling elephants, baby seal hearts stuffed with dove pate. Food fit for emperors!" she swooned, patting her stomach in remembrance.

"We socialize with all of the greatest figures in history," added Future Lister. "The Habsburgs, the Borgias…"

Future Kryten nodded in agreement. "Why, only last week, Louis the Sixteenth threw a banquet especially in our honor."

"The man is a complete delight!" Future Rimmer smiled fondly. "Urbane, witty, charming…"

Kryten felt a flare of rare anger. "He was an idiotic despot he wallowed in the most obscene luxury while the working classes starved in abject poverty!"

"Well, we certainly didn't see any of that, while we were there!" chuckled Future Rimmer.

"And his wife's an absolute cutie," agreed Future Kryten.

"I think they're our favorite hosts," put in Future Cat, "if you don't count the Hitlers."

Kryten goggled in horror. "The who?!"

Future Rimmer held up a hand. "Provided you avoid talking politics, he's an absolute hoot!"

But Kryten still couldn't process this. "You're good friends with the Hitlers?!"

"Oh, it's just a social thing," Future Kochanski said dismissively. "Leave your politics at the door, and he always has a drink at hand, although I swear Eva cheats at mixed doubles."

Kryten couldn't believe this. Sure, Mr Rimmer enjoyed reading Fascist Dictator Monthly, but you could argue he just enjoyed the military history rather than supporting any of their policies. To hear that not only him but all of them had become submerged in that filthy disgusting world made him tremble with both fear and rage.

Future Rimmer seemed to pick up on the mechanoid's discomfort. "Look," he said calmly. "You have to understand. We travel back and forth throughout the whole of history, and naturally, we wanted to sample the best of everything. It's just a bit unfortunate that the finest things tend to be in the possession of people who are judged to be a bit dodgy."

"'A bit dodgy'?" Kryten repeated incredulously. "Herman Goering is 'a bit dodgy'?!"

Future Cat shrugged. "Catherine the Great, Vlad the Impaler, Nero - those are the dudes that show you the best time!"

"Too right," agreed Future Lister from his jar. "I mean, who the hell would want to go 'round Mahatma Gandhi's for an all-night rave?"

Kryten finally couldn't stand it anymore. "What has become of you all? You've all abandoned your morals, been seduced by power and wealth! All you're interested in now is indulging your carnal desires!"

"And could we tell you some stories about that!" Future Rimmer laughed, making the rest of them erupt in a series of nasty cackles.

But Kryten indignation could not be squelched. "I don't recognize any of you!" he said firmly. "You're just amoral, self-serving scum freeloading your way through history!"

Future Kryten shook his head sadly. "Good grief. I can't believe I used to be such a stuck up pompous prig."

Before Kryten could retort, a blast from the upstairs room signalled that someone had just blasted it off its hinges. He looked up in surprise to find Rimmer coming down with a bazookoid in his arms, still smoking. Kochanski came down after him, followed by the Cat. None of them looked very happy.

"Right," Rimmer said tightly. "Party's over. All of you - out." He levelled the bazookoid at them. "Now."

The future crew looked a bit startled but Future Rimmer regarded his past self calmly. "But we need to examine the calibration of your time drive's mass compactor."

Rimmer loaded the bazookoid. "Did I stutter?"

Future Cat sneered. "Shooting us would be killing himself in the future. He won't do it."

Kochanski poked her head around him. "Aim it at lover boy in the jar," she said.

Future Kochanski let out a shriek and yanked the jar into her arms protectively. "No! Don't you dare shoot my Dave!"

"Steady on!" Future Lister called out as he shifted in the portable tank.

Apparently taking a hint, Future Rimmer awkwardly got to his feet. "Gentlemen, let's meander back, why don't we?"

As they got up to leave, Future Kryten spoke up urgently. "But without the calibration data, we'll be stranded out here in the middle of nowhere!"

But one look in Rimmer's cold eyes seemed to tell him that they would be going back to their ship empty-handed. Muttering to themselves, they all stalked off back into the airlock.

Future Rimmer stopped to address his younger self. "You'll change your mind when you've thought it through," he said. "You are destined to become us, and there's nothing you can do about it. In the end, you'll help us."

Rimmer responded by firing the bazookoid at the wall just over his future self's head. Future Rimmer ducked aside as a shower of sparks rained down on him. "Scram, Tweety Bird," he hissed.

Future Rimmer looked at him with a mixture of shock and fury before ducking into the airlock.

A few minutes later, the two ships had separated, and they all sat morosely in the cockpit, heads drooped and not speaking.

"I knew it would be a mistake to see the future," Kryten said at last. "Now our whole lives will be colored by the fact that we're going to end up becoming people we despise."

Kochanski's station suddenly gave a soft double-bleep, and she peered to look at the screen. What she saw made her heart almost stop. "Oh smeg," she said numbly. "They're about to fire a missile at us!"

Rimmer twisted around in his seat. "We're being attacked by our own future selves?!"

"They're nuts!" Cat exclaimed, trying to get the sluggish controls to respond.

They felt a jolt, and they all looked at their screens in alarm. The missile had scored a direct hit on the gyroscope, and another lock-on came almost immediately after.

Then, the light on the desk alerted them to an incoming transmission. Rimmer pressed 'accept', and his future self's fat ferrety face filled the screen.

"Gentlemen," he said in his growly voice. "We have no intention of being deprived of the opulence of luxury the Time Drive provides. Either you give us access to the data we require, or be prepared to be blasted out of the sky."

"But if you kill us, you'll cease to exist!" objected Kryten.

"Better that than be forced to live like you," Future Rimmer replied, almost smirking. "Like rats trapped together, marooned in deep space." He leaned in close to the camera. "Your answer - thirty seconds."

The link went dead, and they all looked at each other.

"So what do we do?" Cat asked urgently.

Rimmer turned in his chair to face Kryten, his expression tight. "Have we got any chance of winning?"

Kryten shook his head helplessly. "Their craft is greatly upgraded. We have no chance whatsoever."

Rimmer nodded distantly before uttering the words that would change everything. "Then I say fight!"

Kochanski's jaw dropped. Impossible odds of survival, almost certain doom, and Arnold Judas Rimmer seriously just said to fight?!

Her shock must've been contagious because Kryten looked just as flabbergasted. "Mr Rimmer?!"

Rimmer just shrugged, as if this were no big deal. "Better dead than smeg," he replied, already going back to his station to prepare.

Kochanski finally got her brain working again. If Rimmer was willing to fight for his future, then dammit, so was she. "Better dead than boyfriend-in-a-jar," she said determinedly.

"Better dead than sofa-sized butt!" agreed Cat.

"Better anything than that toupee!" added Kryten.

And without another word, they went to work, not even bothering to let that despicable band of geriatrics know their decision.

Rimmer got to work. "Shields up! Arming lasers!"

"Bringing her around!" Cat announced, doing his best to compensate for the damaged gyroscope.

Kryten tapped away at his keyboards and checked his readouts. "Target acquired!"

Rimmer placed his finger on the necessary button, but he waited until it felt right. "Locking on-n-n-n-n-n… Fire!"

The resulting orange mushroom cloud under the other ship blossomed like a flower in a nature documentary.

"Direct hit!" cheered Kryten. "Starboard thrusters! Nice shooting, sir!"

Cat laughed triumphantly. "Bringin' her 'round for dessert!"

Kochanski's smile fell as she saw the readouts on her navigation console. "Threat warning! They're locking onto the port bow! Compensate!"

"Let's see if we can't give them a parting shot on the way!" Rimmer replied. "Kryten - what's in our sights?"

"Main fuel tanks, auxiliary engines - take your pick, sir!"

"All right, lining up the shot! Here we go!" he stabbed the button again.

They barely had time to look as Cat managed to dodge them out of the way of the next volley of laser fire, but they saw another pretty orange mushroom cloud on the future ship's underbelly. Meanwhile, the cockpit suddenly filled with smoke as a shower of sparks erupted above them.

"They nicked us!" Kochanski announced. "Damage report!"

Cat flicked a few switches and checked. "Slight engine damage!" he replied. "Auto-repair's already on it, but we can't - !"

Another explosion, much closer to home this time, erupted from Rimmer's console, and he went flying out of his chair and landed between Kryten and Kochanski.

Kryten knelt down and put a finger to his neck. "Mr Rimmer!"

"Is he okay?!" Cat asked urgently.

Kryten looked up in shock. "He's… dead, sir!"

Kochanski felt the adrenaline racing through her body give way to horror. She looked down and saw the bloodied face of her friend, his lifeless eyes staring straight through her. To see him snuffed out like a candle, right when he'd been enjoying himself, finally unleashing that power she knew lurked inside him, and bam - gone.

Suddenly, Cat's console exploded, and the feline barely had time to react before the resulting sparks and bits of metal and flame threw him out of his seat and across Kryten's station. The mechanoid leapt in immediately to check for a pulse.

Kochanski felt like she was in a nightmare. Even before Kryten announced it, she knew the Cat was dead, too. All of this was happening too fast. It had barely been a full minute altogether since they'd started the battle. This couldn't be happening.

Kryten slumped in his chair, apparently reeling, but then, he sat up, his eyes brightening as they always did when he solved the puzzle that would save the day. "But there may be a - !"

His entire station erupted, sending him flailing in his seat and slumping over backwards as he shut down, going stiff as a board as his eyes slammed shut.

Kochanski stared at him for a moment before the reality began to really set in. They were dead. The only people she had left in the universe, and they were all dead. She stared between them, the horror of it overwhelming her. She tried crossing to Kryten, but she couldn't even begin to get him going again. There may be a what?! There may be a what?!

She staggered backwards out of the cockpit, away from the carnage, still in a horrified haze, and in the process, she stumbled on the steps and fell flat on her back. The mid-section had begun to spark and fill with smoke. Was the entire ship breaking apart now? Had the future crew fired any more shots? In all the confusion, she'd lost touch with the world around her. She rolled over onto her stomach, and then she saw the bazookoid Rimmer had used earlier, propped up by the staircase.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place, and she ran as fast as she could. She snatched up the bazookoid and kicked the door to the engine room open, only to jam the long neck of her weapon across the narrow door. Angrily, she spun it ninety degrees and forced her way inside.

The ship cried out as the hull twisted, trying to pull itself apart around her. Dust came raining down, but she had the warning lights to shine the path for her. She hurried into the lower levels, just barely dodging the debris that crashed down. She tripped over a fallen stanchion, but she forced herself back up again. This was not how it would all end, after all this time.

At last, it stood before her, attached to the engines - the Time Drive. Filled with loathing for the device, she raised the bazookoid.

Loaded.

Fired.

Boom.

She flew backwards through the air as the hull disintegrated, and the entire world faded into white. As she faded from reality, she idly wondered what would happen next.

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's Note: See you in Series VII - whatever the first episode is...