A/N: Hopefully the length of this chapter makes up for the wait!
Six
And I will walk five hundred miles…five hundred smegging more…
Rimmer knew that if he were currently in a hard light body, he would be dying to cut his legs off to stop the burning sensation in his quads. Instead, he found himself able to almost glide up each flight of stairs. This would've been the perfect opportunity to challenge Lister to a race; I'd actually last longer than a hundred yards.
He sighed with relief as he realised he was only a couple of floors away from his destination. A newfound burst of energy surged through his hologrammatic veins as he charged forward, practically running up the final flights of stairs.
A loud growl quickly shattered this brief period of confidence. Jumping about two feet in the air, Rimmer failed to regain his footing and fell to the ground. How I wish that was Lister's stomach instead of the terrifying monster I'm assuming it belongs to. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, creeping his way up the stairs. He froze as he caught sight of the organism responsible for nearly using his uniform as a temporary latrine; attempting to slice through the entrance to the drive room deck were two six-foot tall figures, completely clad in dark metallic outfits and bearing threatening-looking weapons.
Instinctively, Rimmer ducked below the banister. Simulants! How the hell did they get on board? I mean, obviously it must've been a teleport, but why didn't we know their ship was practically sitting on our arse earlier?
His thoughts were interrupted as the simulants abandoned their attempt to cut through the door, and instead knocked the entire wall down in one blow. Rimmer cowered further below the banister, burying his head between his knees as the grating metal; the simulants moved forward, their ominous footsteps echoing as they marched towards the drive room.
A few seconds passed before Rimmer felt brave enough to peek over the banister. He paused, waiting for the sounds of gunfire or agonised screaming that never came. While initially pleased at this lack of disturbing auditory information, the hologram couldn't help but feel puzzled. Why are they being so stealthy?
Rimmer forced himself forward, cursing that he had forgotten to wear some shirt tails.
The first thing the boys noticed on entering the drive room was the intense hellfire bursting from the main computer. Flames engulfed the pilot's seat and licked at the passenger seat. A pile of burning ash on the dashboard was all that was left of Rimmer's latest health and safety report. The real tragedy in the situation, however, were the flames eagerly devouring the fluffy dice hanging from the ceiling.
"Smeggin' hell!" Lister shouted. He instinctively raised a hand to cover his face as he barged in, wincing as a small piece of the ceiling fell in front of him.
"Damn! It's hotter than my boxer shorts in here!" Cat panted as he wiped his brow. "I think I'll go slip into something cooler, 'cause I ain't lettin' this top get any sweat stains!" Before either mechanoid or human could protest, he'd already disappeared down the corridor.
"Oh, goodness me!" Kryten waved his hands frantically. He wandered over to the fire extinguisher perched near the navigation controls and began spraying the contents generously over the entire drive room. His worry at the scene before him quickly dissipated as he fought the flames: "I'm never going to get the stains out of these seats!"
Having made his way as close to the console as he could, Lister found himself choking on the fumes that poured out of the centre computer. He'd foolishly chosen to grab the extinguisher seated below the driver's seat, only to now realise that it the charred pieces of bright red metal currently littering the floor were the remains of the can. Smeggin' hell.
The smoke made his eyes water and his lungs cry out for air. Lister leant over as hacking coughs racked his body, fighting to take in some oxygen. Why I ever took up smoking is beyond me at this point, 'cause this sucks.
Having emptied his extinguisher, Kryten found himself having to manually step out the remaining flames with his feet. Despite the initial impression of it being a massive, ship-destroying inferno, it seemed only a small amount of damage had been done. His internal receptors quickly redirected him to assess the safety of fellow crewmembers. It took a few microseconds for him to process that Lister was currently curled on the floor
Kryten knelt to Lister's level and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mister Lister, sir! Try and slow your breathing."
Lister wanted to launch into a rant about how that was quite impossible at the moment, but instead continued coughing up what was left of his respiratory system. It took some time before he felt able to speak. "What the hell happened?"
"It looks like we've been attacked, sir, though I must say I am perplexed," Kryten sat himself on the charred remains of the passenger seat and activated the alarm suppresser. Within seconds the ship was silent, the only sounds in the drive room being the sizzling of dying electronics.
Lister rubbed his eyes, attempting to relieve the stinging sensation currently plaguing them. "By what? Obviously it was an attack! The ship doesn't just set itself on fire!"
"No, sir. I meant by how this attack could have occurred without us being made aware," Kryten began recalibrating the ship's scanners. "My only conclusion is that we were fired upon by another vessel which evaded our system's detection until the attack was completed."
"Could it have been another EMP?"
"Unlikely, sir. It would have wiped out all other electronics on the ship, including myself and Mister Rimmer."
Lister sighed. "What a pity. Would've meant he didn't have to go around pretendin' to be Charlie Chaplin all the time. I mean the poor guy really isn't gettin' much of a break-"
Hearing a sudden thump, he shifted around to find an unconscious Kryten on the drive room floor. Two simulants stood over the fallen mechanoid, with one pointing their gun barrel pointed directly at Lister's trachea.
Lister gulped. "…I don't remember seein' you guys on the crew list?"
"Silence, human," The simulant threatening Lister gestured to his colleague, who swiftly removed Kryten's cranial unit with a seemingly gentle tug. Small sparks emerged from the exposed wires in the mechanoid's neck, but Kryten continued to remain unconscious. "You will cooperate-"
"Look, whatever you guys want, we probably don't 'ave it," Lister shrugged his shoulders. "There isn't much good tech left on this ship anyway; think we used most of it to prop up the pool table-"
Lister was abruptly cut off when he received a forceful blow to the oesophagus with the gun barrel. Winded, he gagged and massaged his throat gingerly. I better not end up mute like Rimmer, otherwise I will throw meself out of the airlock.
The simulant responsible for the assault glared at the last human being alive. "You will cooperate with our directions. If you attempt to resist or to escape, your shipmates will suffer a similar fate."
Lister sighed. So much for poker night tonight.
Every step he took closer to the drive room, Rimmer felt his hologramatic stomach sink. It was eerily quiet on this deck; the alarms that had been blaring suddenly ceased. Normally simulants would have torn up the ship and gone in with guns blazing; this James Bond level of sneaking around was highly suspicious.
The smallest noise made Rimmer jump; the journey to the drive room was continuously interrupted, as the hologram was darting in and out of side corridors more than a lost fly. His hopes were suddenly lifted - or crushed; he wasn't sure which - when he spotted the Cat strutting out of a nearby lift. The feline seemed to be inspecting his new crimson jumpsuit; the corridor lights bounced off the golden diamentes lining the outside of his jacket, creating a shimmering effect whenever he moved.
Rimmer placed a hand on his hip. Not the most hideous thing he's ever worn, but I still hate it. Instictively, he opened his mouth to call out, only to mentally kick himself. How many smegging times am I going to make that mistake? He groaned mutely before launching into his second sprint of the year.
The hologram's feet made no sound as he hurried down the corridor, though he quickly realised there was no need to rush, as the Cat was still admiring his diamente-studded monstrosity. Rimmer managed to get in front of Cat, waving his arms to attract his attention from his jacket. Admire yourself later! We have a situation!
It took Cat a second to remove his eyes from his designer clothing, a small lighting up his face at the sight of Goalpost Head. "Hey bud! Where've you been? I was originally gonna help the other guys with that big ugly flame problem in the drive room, but it would've been too hot with me in the room as well-"
An impatient Rimmer waved his hand in front of Cat's face, silencing him almost instantly. He angrily pointed a finger towards his lips. There are simulants on board!
Cat could only offer a blank face in reply.
Rimmer gestured to his mouth again. There. Are. Simulants. On. Board. You. Git!
The Cat raised an eyebrow. "If this is supposed to be an invite for a kiss, you ain't gettin' it."
Rimmer let out a silent cry of frustration. I hate this miming smeg, but that stupid moggy leaves me no choice. He gestured widely to the ship around them before pretending to load a bazookoid. He contorted his face into a scowl as he stomped aggressively on the spot, pointing the imaginary weapon at various points on the wall.
Cat moved his head closer. "Are you saying there are bad guys hangin' around?"
Close enough. Rimmer fought the urge to roll his eyes and nodded frantically, gesturing to his mouth again. Where are the others? Are they okay?
"You mean Monkey Boy and Lipstick Head?" Cat pointed around the corner. "In the drive-'
Both men were taken aback by a faint metallic crash. Rimmer quickly called upon his cowardly instincts and retreated into the nearest doorway, poking his head around the frame to continue observing.
"Man, that sounded suspicious," Cat placed his hands on his hips before glancing at Rimmer. "Should we go investigate?"
Rimmer wasn't sure he could shake his head any more vigorously without it falling off. If you feel like going and getting yourself killed instantaneously, be my guest.
"Alright, smeghead; you stay there," Cat straightened his collar. "Not like you'll be much use anyway."
Rimmer gave an indignant expression, only for it melt away when Cat produced two spray cans from the inside of his jacket, twirling them threateningly in front of him. Are you serious? You're going to defeat simulants using your smeggin' deodorant?
The Cat seemingly anticipated Rimmer's reaction. "It's not deodorant, Toilet Brush Hair; its hairspray. Not even a whole carton of Lynx would make those suckers smell attractive! Aowww!"
Cat! No! Rimmer shouted, the words never leaving his throat. All he could do was observe the feline scamper down the hallway with hairspray bottles at the ready, and ponder which plant possessed more intelligence than him.
A simulant appeared at the end of the hallway, grasping Kryten's body in one hand as they dragged it carelessly across the metallic floor; the other hand carried Kryten's head, his face obscured by the simulant's hand. It quickly noticed the Cat and adopted a battle stance, dropping Kryten's body in the process.
Cat raised both of his weapons and let out a growl, crouching slightly. "You better drop the Condom Head, buddy, or we'll be facin' some interestin' consequences."
Less than two seconds passed in the time it took for the stimulant to drop the offensive stance, produce a small black box from its belt and taser the Cat into unconsciousness. The feline collapsed in a heap, his perfectly styled hair now sporting some frizz; this delighted Rimmer immensely, though having seen his crewmate twitch and squirm like a spider drowning in insect repellant did make his insides churn.
For good measure, the stimulant marched over to the hairspray cans and crushed them flat, ignoring the minor explosions beneath its feet as the contents were violently expelled.
Rimmer couldn't help but smirk slightly. Well, you gimboid, what did you expect? Maybe try the extra-extra strong hold next time.
Dragging Cat by his feet, the simulant hauled him violently on top of Kryten's body, producing an interesting metallic chime as Cat's decorative jacket collided with the mechanoid's outer casing. Satisfied with his work, the simulant removed a device from its belt that looked oddly similar to the television remotes of days gone by; a few combination of buttons later and the simulant disappeared, engulfed in a teleportation beam with his cargo.
Rimmer barely had enough time to breathe before an unconscious Lister was thrown from around the corner by a second simulant. His hands were bound behind him, his left eye was swollen and a suspicious barrel-shaped bruise was forming on his throat. Rimmer felt his hologramatic stomach heave at the sight of such injuries; Lister had suffered the odd scratch and burn over the years (or so he'd claimed), but none of them had been subjected to such horrific violence. He could only watch as this simulant produced their own teleportation device and vanished, taking his only friend in the universe with them.
A moment passed before the reality of the situation sunk in.
Well, smeg.
Rimmer tried to bite his fist, only to let out a muted sob when his teeth refused to make an indent. What the hell do I do now?!