Ten
Cat squirmed in his bonds for what felt like the ten thousandth time; he desperately wanted to scratch the irritated skin around his wrists, but his beautiful nails simply couldn't reach. He blew a stray hair from his face and reluctantly leant back against the wall, praying that the inevitable dirt stains on his suit wouldn't be permanent. Man, these rope fibres are gonna absolutely RUIN my skin! I'm gonna have to use a lot of extra exfoliating cream for a few days.
He kept his gaze fixated on the wall directly opposite, his eyes going crosseyed as he found himself zoning into another universe. I'm pretty sure my brain is pouring out my ears and onto the ground right now.
If only Kryten would stop talking.
His brain had stopped processing what Kryten was saying some time ago, but he decided he should probably tune back in just in case he was being complimented.
"…Mister Lister has been gone an awfully long time," Kryten fretted. "My internal chronometer says it's been almost two hours, and I know he wouldn't want me fretting about him, but…Oh, spin my nipple nuts and send me to Alaska! If only I had reacted quicker when they came onboard, I could have prevented all of this from happening-"
"Not to dampen the mood or anything, bud," Cat interrupted, summoning what remained his limited patience, "but do you mind putting a sock in it before I start usin' your head for soccer practice?!"
Stunned at the outburst, all Kryten could do was blink. "I am sorry, sir; I did not mean to cause you any further-"
"I said shut it, Condom Head!" Cat snapped, his teeth glinting in the dim light. "Can't you see I need some 'me time'? As in, I need time to complain as well?! Honestly, I can't believe I'm beginning to prefer Monkey Boy's company to yours."
Before Kryten could conjure an appropriate reply, their attention was drawn to the sudden opening of the cell door. Their jaws collectively fell open as an unconscious Lister was hastily thrown into the cell, the slamming of the cell door drowning out the sickening sound of his forehead colliding with the floor. A laceration above his left eye was bleeding profusely, dripping down the side of his face and forming a puddle on the ground. His hands were still secured behind him, with tinges of blood visible on his jacket.
Slowly but surely (and hoping no damage was occurring to his pants) Cat wiggled his way across the cell, roughly poking Lister with his shoe. "Ay, Monkey Boy! You still alive?…"
"Mister Lister, sir!" Kryten fretted from his position on the floor. "Please! Come back to us!"
Despite Kryten's insistent pleading and Cat's persistent nudging, Lister remained oblivious to the world, lying deathly still on the cell floor. Only the sounds of his hitched breathing gave any indication that he was still alive.
"It's useless, bud!" Cat sighed in frustration and scooted back against the wall. "He's more out of touch with reality than a politician!"
"Oh dear, poor Mister Lister!" Kryten's voice quavered in distress. "I do hope he hasn't suffered any permanent brain damage."
"How do we know he's even got a brain to begin with?" Cat wasn't sure if his remark was appropriate, but there was no one around who could judge him otherwise.
Choosing not to voice any other concerns, the two Dwarfers sat together silently, anxiously waiting for a sign of Lister's revival.
I don't know if I should condone driving with one hand, but then again, Lister does do it with his feet when he's digging into a really good vindaloo.
Rimmer leaned as far back on the chair as he dared; he still wasn't one hundred percent convinced he wouldn't fall through it. His hard light drive was taking its sweet time to reboot, but his confidence on the journey from Red Dwarf's cockpit to Starbug continued to grow as hard light patches on his uniform gradually began to grow. By the time he reached the cockpit, his left hand had become entirely solid, and he'd danced his fingers across the controls in a fit of excitement.
Yet that excitement had quickly vanished as he realised it had been at least a year since he'd piloted Starbug solo.
Not only that, but he realised the simulants would probably want to speak to him when he tried to board, and he still had no voice to answer with.
It was times like this that he missed having Holly, for he would've been able to fly Starbug to the simulant ship without Rimmer having to lift a finger. Yet here he was, piloting with one hand, desperately trying to remember how the controls worked. No wonder I always let Lister fly this thing…
His eyes narrowed as he nervously began to engage the docking controls, turning the ship with little effort. Time for Ace to come out of retirement.