Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kryten softly hummed as he finished adjusting the device on the table. The device in question was the most unremarkable-looking cylinder device in the history of cylinder devices. Its unremarkableness was punctuated by the fact that it only became more remarkable once several stethoscope-like wires were attached to it, which themselves were unremarkable in nature.

Recently, the Boys From the Dwarf had been on yet another raid run on a derelict. This one was known as the SS Hope, ironic seeing as everyone there had died from an attempt to give the populace hope through injections gone wrong, leading to mass suicides. Despite this, however, it was a trip for the book “Most Boring Derelict Runs in History”. Well, until that giant mutated cockroach appeared in one of the corridors and picked up Mr. Rimmer (or Captain Bollocks, as he liked to record him in his internal file directory) up and started to play a single-player game of “Who can rip up a Hologram the quickest” with him. Despite the Cat’s protests, Kryten, and Lister had managed to shoot it down in a flurry of Bazookoid fires, and the trip had otherwise been uneventful. Well, aside from Rimmer’s complaining that no matter how much he adjusted his holographic projection, he was not going to get this cockroach gunk off of him. Then again, that was Rimmer for you.

In the end, they didn’t find too much stuff of interest, although they were able to find more clothes for the Cat (for the best, considering how much complaining the Cat was doing on how he was on the verge of having worn all of the outfits in his cupboard at least once, and that he would rather die than wear another one of his outfits again) and some more music. Just before they left, however, Kryten had found a device on the ground, no doubt dropped in a hurry as the person previously carrying it prepared to throw himself out of the airlock.

He was just about to make the finishing touches when his favorite human in the world, Dave Lister, ambled in, still rubbing his eyes from his 2 pm awakening.

“What are you tinkering with, Krytes.” He asked, pausing to stare at the machinery that Kryten was fixing.

“Ah, Mr. Lister, sir. I have been fixing a device from our last raid run that may prove to be quite useful for us as a crew.”

Lister’s left eyebrow raised up in curiosity. “Is it a device that can finally get us back to Earth?”

“Unfortunately, no. What it is however is a DNA Ancestry Machine, sir. During the 24^th Century, people were nervous about giving their DNA to large companies, what with the number of clones and genetic abominations created using it. However, there was still a desire to ensure that they weren’t passing down genetic diseases to their children, as well as a desire to prove that they could take claim to outrageous fortunes. Thus, this device entered the market.”

Lister was ecstatic.

“Wicked, man! So do you think we can use it to see if there are any humans still alive? You know, by checking the DNA of one of the former crew.”

Kryten sighed. He didn’t want to lower his favorite human’s hopes, but it had to be done.

“Unfortunately, no. Thanks to the device, a large flock of people found that they did not have French or German in their genes as they had been bragging about, and stormed the company building in a fit of rage, assisted by those cut out of the will after they found out that they actually came from their mother’s lowlife one-night-stand and thus couldn’t take claim to any money. As such, the device was on the market for only several weeks before the company which created it went bankrupt. Despite its shuttering, however, the data still survives on those devices which were not recalled, stored on data chips that can store more information on them than the Encyclopedia Galactica.”

“So, this device is practically useless, then?”

“Not necessarily Mr. Lister. We could use it to find out the Cat’s ancestry, or…”

It was at this moment that Rimmer entered the science room, having been distracted from his usual “rimmering” routine of making sure that the corridors were clear from dirt.

“Lister, I found one of your socks in corridor 251 which I suspect may…”

He paused.

“What are you two idiots doing with that device?”

Kryten rolled his robotic eyes.

“Well, as I was saying to Mr. Lister, I have repaired a device which essentially allows you to find out your ances…”

Rimmer’s eyes widened, like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

“This machine…it doesn’t require needles, doesn’t it.”

“No, it’s all done in a safe and non-intrusive mann….”

“Can I have a go with it?” said Rimmer, although he was already taking the machine off of Kryten’s hands without expecting an answer. He proceeded to promptly put the patches on himself before pressing the quite conspicuous start button.

…Nothing happened.

Rimmer’s nostrils flared up.

“Kryten, you imbecile! It’s a worthless piece of…”

“No sirs, you just forgot to plug it in.”

Rimmer’s nostrils flared even further as he connected the device to the nearby wall socket.

“Ah, yes, I see…I just wanted to keep you on your toes there…”.

Kryten and Lister didn’t buy it.

Happily enough, the machine booted itself up, which Kryten was thankful for. After all, the last time they had acquired a device from a derelict, the crew had to spend several days trying to flush out viruses from Rimmer’s hologrammatic files.

The screen overflowed with streams of data for a couple of seconds, which soon fell away to reveal a loading bar that started to slowly crawl up to 100%.

As it hit 50%, there was a yowling sound from the corridor as the Cat came in, half-distracted by his recently manicured nails.

“What are you looking at, buds? Is it another Space Weevil infestation?”

“None of the sort, Mr. Cat. We’re just finding out who Rimmer is descended from.”

The Cat’s face contorted in disgust.

“Why do we need to know about Goalpost Head’s family tree? Everyone knows that it is more rotten than his choice of clothing!”

Rimmer scowled.

“Well, if you want to know, you stupid moggy -  after I found out that I was the bastard child of a half-crazed woman and a gardener with lumps for brains, it got me thinking – my ancestry isn’t what I expected, so maybe I have royal blood in me. Maybe I’m even the long-lost descendant of Napoleon!”

As Rimmer talked, the loading bar quickly sped up to 99%. There, it hung for a tense moment, before it finally completed and the database showed up, displaying all of Rimmer’s ancestors.

Rimmer quickly pulled off the patches still attached to him, grabbed a seat, and started looking over at the data. Realizing that everyone was still there, he turned to get rid of them.

“Can everyone smeg off and leave me to my business? I would prefer it if I didn’t have a running commentary on how my family was actually fish people.”

Everyone decided to listen to him and leave, although not before Lister briefly caught a glimpse of the name of one of Rimmer’s ancestors.

“Hey, I didn’t know that you were related to one of the most infamous space…”

“LISTER!”

***

Sometime later, Lister took another bite of his curry as he went through one of his complicated robotics course textbooks. Why he made himself go through mounds and mounds of complicated diagrams and words that he never expected to see in common communication, he did not know. Well, he did know. He (well, his father but they were one of the same, after all) had made him do it in a bid to improve himself, to the point of even flushing his guitar out of the airlock.

He was certainly a persistent man, Lister could say with clarity.

Suddenly, he was disturbed by a blue blur coming into the room. As it paused, Lister could see that it was Rimmer, his face taking on an uncharacteristically happy appearance.

“Good afternoon, smeg-for-brains. Slobbing around as usual I see.” He chirped in glee.

Lister sighed as he closed his (slightly greasy) textbook. “And what’s gotten into you that has caused your face to do the unthinkable. Found out that your great-great-great-grandfather is Hitler?”

“Shut up, Lister! Unfortunately, I am not a descendant of Napoleon. However, I did find something of similar interest.” replied Rimmer, slamming down a large slab of paper on top of Lister’s textbook. Lister just stared at it dumbly.

“Rimmer, it’s a slab of paper. What are you expecting me to look at, best pages to use as a paperweight?”

“No, Lister. Look closer.” Said Rimmer, pointing a finger at one of the names on the document.

Lister stared at it.

“Gordon Brittas”? He sounds like a nutter from Scandinavia…”

“No, he isn’t, you baboon with a distinct lack of hygiene. Look closer.”

Rimmer pointed towards the other details of the man that the device held. There wasn’t too much else about the man, but Lister could see that he was apparently of British origin, that he was from the 20^th Century, and his apparent last occupation was “Commissioner of Sports for the Solar System”. Most notably, however, he was designated as a member of the “House of Lords”.

“See. One of my ancestors used to be a member of the House of Lords. It means that he was such an important person that the Government wanted him to become part of them. That must be where my ability to strategize comes from, my intellect, my excellence compared to the halfwits on board this ship.”

“Rimmer…”

“Oooh, wait until I tell the Cat about this!”

And with that, he ran out, taking his findings with him.

Lister sighed and took himself off from his comfortable place on the sofa, hoping that this wasn’t true and that Kryten would know the truth. After all, he was not looking forward to Rimmer lording over his new findings to him.

***

Soon, he had come across Kryten doing what he enjoyed most – mopping one of the corridors.

“Is it true Krytes, that Rimmer has found that one of his ancestors is a Lord?”

The Mechanoid sighed.

“Oh, Mr. Lister sir. It’s true - he has noble genes in his bloodline.”

Lister groaned in despair.

“In fact, he dashed off before I could tell him more about this ancestor, and believe me, his story is the sort of thing that will haunt your nightmares for days to come.”

Lister scoffed.

“He can’t be that bad unless he’s a crazed sheep strangler who spends his free time criticizing TV shows.”

“No, he never stooped that low in that regard. However, I do remember him and his exploits are the sort of tales that are the work of crazed simulants.”

“The story goes that he used to be a human from the 20^th Century who used to run a Leisure Centre.  However, he was once crushed to death by a falling water tank. By all accounts, that should have been the natural end of his lifespan. However, he mysteriously revived several days after his funeral. Some more sane droids say that it was a clerical error, whilst the loopier of people say that it was because not even the afterlife could handle him. In whatever case, he was revived and rebuilt using the latest in robotics, which is credited for his long lifespan afterward. In fact, he is widely credited as kickstarting the revolution of robotics which occurred during the 21^st Century. Simply put, if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to clean your pants as efficiently. However, he also proceeded to build up a reputation of mayhem during his career. Usually, when he ran something, it would end in fires and explosions. In fact,  he is usually credited as being at fault for the destruction of Pluto in the late 23^rd Century.”

Lister’s eyes widened. The destruction of an entire planetary body? The man certainly sounded like he could beat Rimmer in a competition for “how much destruction can you make from your incompetence”.

“Go on then.”

“By the early 24^th Century, he had become a major problem, and the Governments of the Solar System didn’t know what to do with him. Luckily for them, this was around the time that an attempt was being made at ejecting their failed Genetic Experiments out into Deep Space. They simply managed to convince the man that he could bring his “Dream” out to any potential alien life-forms in space and just shoved him into one of the garbage ships. He has not been seen since, his existence destined to become a mere tale told around distant campfires in places where those who had caught the space crazies go to drink their alcohol.”

For a moment, Lister was silent as he processed the information. Then…

“You know, I think I’m going to tell this to him. Oh, I can already picture the look on his face when I tell him about how much of a madman his ancestor was!”

Kryten turned on his panic circuits.

“I would advise against it. Mr. Rimmer’s self-esteem has been at an all-time low in recent weeks. I would even say that it’s currently lower than David Zucker’s reputation after making “An American Carol”. We should leave it for now.”

Lister sighed.

“All right then, but if he’s too much of a smeghead over it, I’m going to have to reveal the truth anyway. Plus, it’s not like the very next moon we’ll come across holds the man himself?”

..right?

Chapter Text

Lister was sleeping off on yet another one of his benders when the alert for the Science Room sounded. Rubbing his eyes, he made his way down to the room in question.

“Sirs, our scanners have detected a nearby moon with a large number of lifeforms on it,”  said Kryten.

“What are they? Is it a lost human colony?” asked Lister, a little short of breath from the dash he had just done to make it into the Science Room. Rimmer and the Cat (who was slightly irritated that he had been forced from his beauty sleep) weren’t far behind.

“Well, our initial scans indicate that they are mainly of a genetically engineered nature,” said Kryten, squinting at the readouts just to be sure.

“GELFs? I thought after the last time one of them decided that we would make a tasty snack, we were going to steer very clear away from mutants that would make the Elephant Man look like a potential contender for the most beautiful man of the year,” said Rimmer, scowling at Kryten.

“I still remember that sir, but the scanner shows that these creatures are mainly of the chimera type variety, mainly used for early terraforming expeditions before they were outclassed. Records show that they’re considered to be some of the friendlier GELF tribes in Deep Space for the most part. We might be able to barter with them for spare pieces and machinery. Additionally, it may appear that there is one life form which appears to be human in nature.”

“Maybe it’s Kochanski?” said a hopeful Lister.

“Maybe sir, but we won’t find out until we make planetfall.”

“Very well,” said Rimmer, “but if we get devoured into oblivion by creatures with a thousand fangs, I will at least get the pleasure of my final words being, “I told you so””.

“Rimmer, your final words will be “Help me! Help me! Take the others instead!”

“Shut up, Lister, or may I need to inform you once again of my infinitely superior heritage to you.”

“Rimmer, just because one of your ancestors was once a member of the House of Lords does not mean that your family is as clean as the Waltons.”

“Yeah, but may I need to remind you that your ancestors  are a slug who doesn’t know what the word bath is and a woman who is both your mother and your girlfriend at the same time. In fact, you’re probably the cover image for “Time Traveller's Guide to Incest””.

“Yeah, but at least I don’t have as many criminals in there as…”

Unfortunately, Lister’s retort was interrupted by Kryten.

“Sirs, we’re now in orbit of the planet. We should make planetfall as soon as possible to ensure that Kochanski, if she’s down there, does not come into any harm.”

***

The landing of Starbug was fairly brief and unpainful in nature, a remarkable surprise considering Starbug’s otherwise poor track record of landing.

“If our scanner is correct,” said Kryten as he led the others out of Starbug – Rimmer having for once tagged along after having been convinced that he might be able to get one of those officer seats he had really wanted, “then the major population center should be nearby.”

The Dwarfers ultimately did not have long to walk before they came across this population center. It was a fairly small GELF village, currently being guarded by a large vicious looking creature that looked like it had the head of a dingo and the body of an orangutan.

“Hmmm… it looks as if it will be more difficult to get into the village than I thought.” Whispered Kryten, trying to keep his voice down low so as to not attract the attention of the Dingotang.

Unfortunately, he picked up on Kryten’s voice anyway and went into a battle pose, teeth bared.

…Then its dopey brain finally picked up the presence of the blue-clad Hologram.

Immediately, the Dingotang ran as fast as its legs could carry, uttering a series of high-pitched squeals in the process.

The four looked on in confusion.

“Strange. We’re usually the ones who run from them most of the time,” said Lister.

“Aww, they never got to have a look at my new suit!” huffed the Cat.

“Well, it appears that we seem to have gained some form of reputation among the GELFs, which we may be able to use to our advantage. Additionally, on a multicultural planet like this, they may be likely to be capable of speaking English, which will make deals easier to navigate.”

The Dwarfers entered the village. The first thing they noticed was how much of a war zone it looked. Everywhere they could see, there were huts (or “watungas” in the language of the Kinitowowi) that looked like they had been the victims of a large fat whale with the same mobility as a drunkard. Some weren’t even standing at all, the only testament to their existence being the smoldering remains of grass where they once stood. Despite this, life in the village carried on. Numerous traders, mainly Brewfewino in nature, had their goods out, and hordes of GELFs were lined up hoping to buy their wares.

The Dwarfers went to the first stall they set their eyes on.

“May I have your attention for a minute?” asked Kryten to the Brewfewino manning the stall.

The yeti-like creature stared blankly at the Dwarfers. Or, to be more specific, Rimmer.

Then it screamed into the air.

“Khaaakhaakshaaakk!”

Mass panic ensued as creatures of all types ran for the nearest watungas still standing. Those who couldn’t just hid under whatever they could. One even dug a hole and jumped in there.

“Er, what exactly did he just say there?” asked Lister.

“Well, my Brewian is rusty but according to my translation circuits, it means. “Oh, shit, the Dream Demon is here. Hide your children and your relatives.”

As the confused Dwarfers looked on, a GELF with the head of a dolphin, the body of a chimpanzee, and the limbs of a locust popped out of hiding. it was what was known as a Dolochimp, one of the brighter GELFS of Deep Space.

“Wait five hanaka, none of you are the Dream Demon at all,”

It looked at Rimmer.

“Especially him. He looks too old and wrinkly.”

“Too old!” shouted Rimmer at a pitch of voice-only seen in dolphins. “I’ll have you know, miladdio, that I am not old. I am at the point of my life where I am at my most wisest before age turns me into a jabbering idiot!”

“So, what is this Dream Demon?” asked Lister as he ignored Rimmer.

“Ever since the dawn of the Age of the Slightly Stinky Colony Ship, we’ve had one cyborg with us, one who came to represent what it means to be an obnoxious…” the Dolochimp proceeded to emit a series of chimpanzee-like shrieks.

“That will be Dolochimpian for “Wad of rotten chewing gum that you find under the table””. clarified Kryten.

“Was it a Simulant?” asked Lister.

“Unfortunately no. This cyborg was much worse.”

“Worse than wanting to use our limbs as a toilet brush.”

“Much worse. See, this cyborg had a Dream. A Dream of spreading joy and unity across the cosmos. Unfortunately, he tended to cause chaos wherever he went and rub everyone up the wrong way. There was one instance he tried to set up a seminar about “Encouraging Teamwork in a Hopeless Situation” and it ended with the room on fire, and the Alberogs attacking the Dolochimps. After several cases of this, including one instance where a young Kinitawowi got sucked into Deep Space after he tried to attack him for calling his leader “a health hazard”, we knew we had to get off him.”

The realization was beginning to dawn on Lister as to the identity of the cyborg. But he wanted to learn more first.

“Why didn’t you just eject him out of the airlock.”

“Well, he’s tougher than he looks. This is a man who survived unscathed through the belly of a BEGG, for the Great One’s sake. Knowing our luck, he'd just end up wrecking another GELFWorld. Besides, we were hoping that with that durability, he could prove to be of some help in helping to set up the colony if we could somehow tame him.”

The Dwarfers looked around at the scene of chaos.

“…As you can tell, it hasn’t worked.  He’s trying to set up a community area to improve friendships, encourage bonding amongst each other, and entice colonists to move here, but it’s not working. See this?” said the Dolochimp, gesturing around the area,  “That was caused when he tried to implement a “Getting Fit is Fun” scheme. Now, we GELFs are a diverse bunch, but there are some things that we agree on. First that this is now the Age of “We’re All Going to Die”, and second that we’re finally at the point where we’re decided that, smeg other GELFWorlds, we can’t cope with him any longer so he’s their problem now. Although I’m hoping that we manage to send him to a desolate planet instead…”

“This cyborg…” inquired Rimmer, “his name isn’t Gordon Brittas?”

The Dolochimp’s eyes widened.

“Oh, Great One. You’re suffered under his reign too?”

“Nope.” Replied Rimmer,  “In fact, I’m related to him. He used to be a Lord you know!”

There was a few seconds as the Dolochimp stared at Rimmer in horror. Lister facepalmed.

“Well, then that simplifies things. Under GELF law, all four of you will be made to hunt him down, sedate him, and bring him back.”

The Cat made a very “I’m going to kill you” look at Rimmer.

“And what happens if we fail?” asked Lister.

“Then we will simply break you apart and use you as sowing materials for our farms.” The Dolochimp casually replied before returning to his hiding spot.

****

“Rimmer, you smeghead!” complained Lister as they made the trek through the jungle-like areas surrounding the GELF village. “we’ve just been doomed to death by killer cyborg thanks to you!”

“Yes, but don’t you see! It’s a chance to see my ancestor. To get to hear tales first-hand about his acts of heroism. A chance to hear more about him in general, no thanks to someone locking off the majority of the database and the library because he allegedly needed a secure hiding spot for his music.”

“Excuse me, Rimmer, but you were threatening to burn them.”

“They need to be destroyed, Lister. I am not dooming myself to death by terrible guitar playing.”

“But I don’t have my guitar anymore.”

“Yes, but I ‘m taking my chances on the risk that you find another guitar out there and doom us all!”

“Anyway, didn’t you hear those GELFs? He practically ruined their lives! He sounds like he’s nuttier than a portion of Kelloggs Crunchy Nut!”

“Yes, but if you may remember, Listy, GELFs have the IQ of a bowl of petunias. They probably misunderstood his comments. In fact, he’s probably like me, valiantly trying to lead a group of half-wits who don’t know how to open a door properly.”

“Excuse me, Rimmer, but if you may recall, you can’t open the doors properly either. They won’t listen to you because you’re such a smeghead!”

Kryten interrupted them.

“Er, well this is certainly a major “whoops” for the millennium. I’ve checked the psi-scan and it’s giving a slightly different read-out to the scanner on board Red Dwarf. According to it, there is one lifeform outside of us that isn’t GELF in nature, but it’s actually a cyborg.”

He hung his head in shame.

“I knew I needed to have that scanner in for repairs.”

The Cat turned to him, the expression on his face frozen in horror.

“So you meant to say that thanks to you, we’re about to be annoyed to death by some cyborg.”

“Unfortunately so.”

The Cat huffed. “Well then, if we become dead meat, I’m forwarding the cleaner bill to you!”

Suddenly, he began to sniff the air.

“Buds, I’m picking up a weird scent. I can’t put my word on it, but it kinda reminds me of Goalpost Head.”

“That must be him. Let’s be careful. After all, I can’t expect to do the laundry if I turn into a smoldering heap.” replied Kryten as they trod towards a nearby signpost.

There, trying to adjust it, was a dead ringer for Rimmer. Well, not exactly a dead ringer – he had sideburns on his head, and he lacked the holographic “H” on his forehead. And he was wearing a blazer, much like those obnoxious managers you see on sitcoms. And when one says dead ringer, he looked more like Rimmer right around the ill-fated time he went off to be Ace than Rimmer now.

But he was certainly a dead ringer for Rimmer.

“Is that the man?” asked Lister.

“Well, unless I need another whack to the scanner, that is indeed Gordon Brittas.”

“One thing I don’t understand is why does he look human? I thought cyborgs looked more like the Terminator.” Lister replied, in disbelief at the man in front of him.

“It is likely he is using a morphing belt. For what reason, I am uncertain, although it’s likely that he didn’t want to alarm the public with his true appearance, especially since he came from a time where Simulants were a major threat.” said Kryten.

“Well, he’s alarming to me! He looks like Goalpost Head!” complained the Cat. “In fact, why does he look like him. I thought that only an idiot would look like him.”

“Well, he appears to be a case of spatial genetic duplication.”

“Sorry, Hexagon Head, but I stopped understanding after “of”.”

“Well, it is possible for someone who is distantly related to you to look very similar to you. It has been recorded in history, after all, like Jon and Sean Pertwee, or Kim Jong-Un and Kim II-Sung.”

“So I had an ancestor who had my cool sense of clothing?”

“Quite possibly.”

“Well, this looks like a job for me, fellas,” said Rimmer as he strode up to Brittas. “My finely honed negotiation skills should ensure that we can lure him over and convince him to go with us in peace.”

The others shared a look.

This was gonna suck.

Rimmer gently tapped the cyborg on the back.

“May I interrupt you from your signboard adjusting for a minute please?”

Brittas paused in his actions and turned to face Rimmer, using the opportunity to have a good look at the Dwarfers.

“Ah, you must be the new colonists that I’ve been advertising for the last few years. Although I’ll admit, I had been hoping for a higher number to help grow our community!”

Rimmer swallowed. This was the one chance he would get to talk to his ancestor. He’d better make it count, even if he had a poor track record of achieving this.

“Mr. Brittas. We are not here to colonize the planet. We’re just trying to locate a human on this planet.”

“Unfortunately no. We don’t have any humans on our planet. I would have known and noted it in the records by now if there was a human. However, you do need to sign the “Visitations” form before we go any further. It shouldn’t take up too much of your time, you only need to answer 300 questions. Out of curiosity first, what is your name?”

“Well, Mr. Brittas, my name is Officer Arnold J. Rimmer and I have to say, I’m your biggest fan!”

“Oh?”

“See, I’m your many times great-descendant!”

The cyborg seemed taken back by this, but he quickly regained his composure.

“Are you? Well, if that’s the truth, then I must say, I’m glad to see one of my descendants in the flesh. That said, I will need you to back up your claim. I just need a complete record of your family tree first, all right?.”

Rimmer’s smile dropped.

Smeg, I didn’t expect him to be that persistent! Usually, our monsters don’t really look too deep into the fine print before eating us. Now if only I had bought my…

Wait a minute.

Yes, I knew uploading my family tree into the Hologram Simulation Suite was a good idea!

“Not physically, Mr. Brittas, but it is stored in my light bee.”

“A Light Bee? Then you must be one of those upgraded holograms. Had a couple of them working under my command before I left the Solar System. Of course, they never seemed to last long before they decided that they wanted to turn themselves off. Never figured why because there was nobody else dead who was superior to them…”

He took out his hand to touch the hologram in fascination, before pausing as he realized he was touching actual solid matter.

“Even more fascinating. You must be a hard-light. If I can get a record set up on you whilst I extract the data, I might be able to use it to construct better schemes for the staff of the future!”

He tilted his head to look at the rest of the crew.

“That said, you certainly have the strangest people with you. Firstly, that short man looks in dire need of one of my hygiene plans. And his outfit is extremely slobbish and unfit for any work environment.”

“HEY! That’s my personal smell!” complained Lister.

“Second, do you know what you can tell from that man with the funny fangs’ posture? That he doesn’t care about work. He’ll need to participate in my next meeting, where I intend to emphasize the importance of hard work.”

“Well, if you’re going to try to force me to work, let me tell you this, Not-Goalpost Head,” said the Cat, “It’s. Not. Happening.”

Brittas ignored him.

“Thirdly,  whilst that robot exudes the qualities of a good worker, thanks to a robotics course I did sometime back, I know that he does not have long for this world. Still, he’ll be good for our new recycling scheme.”

Kryten huffed. He was beginning to see how this man could be such a smeeheee!

Of course, Rimmer failed to notice this.

“You know, I’m liking your line of thinking here, Mr. Brittas. You display some fine qualities – honesty, an ability to criticize, and a desire to try to improve your crew’s actual abilities or lack of. In other words, important leadership skills. Tell me, what are your opinions on rules?”

“Rules? Rules are an important part of being a Manager. Without them, there simply won’t be any work done. Of course,” and at this point, his voice took on a sympathetic yet patronising tone, “the colonists here do not have the slightest regard for rules. For instance, did you know that the Kinitawowi workers are currently striking during the construction of my new Community Centre, all because I asked them to pick up their rubbish? Now, if that’s not a blatant disregard for the rules and not setting an example to the community, I don’t know what else it could be…”

Rimmer continued to smile like a psycho doll trying to kill its owner.

“Brilliant! Then you’ve got the job as a member of our ship then.”

The others just stared at the two of them in disbelief.

The look of pleased smugness on Brittas’ face could almost rival Rimmer’s. “Thank you for the offer, but I need to lead this planet. These colonists are still baby birds, after all. If I leave then they’ll get eaten alive by the wolf that is this planet. Still, I now really need you to sign those forms now, all right?” he said as he began to lead them to the building in question.

Rimmer was disappointed but said nothing for the time being. Behind him, the others tried to figure out their next strategy.

“What the smeg are we going to do, guys,” asked Lister.

“Yeah. I barely struggle with one goalpost head, I can’t cope with two of them! I say when we get to Sideburns’ office, we off the both of them.”

“May I remind you that historically, Rimmer has never gotten along very well with clones of himself. If this Brittas is close enough to our Rimmer in personality, and I suspect that this may be the case there, it’s possible that they may turn on each other within the next few days, if not hours,” said Kryten.

“I hope so Krytes. I hope so…”

Chapter Text

Deep in the galaxy laid a fleet of Simulant Death Ships, currently on the prowl for what humans were remaining in the universe.

It was a prowl that had borne little fruit over the past few thousand years.

At this point, there was now the fear that they had finally killed the last humans remaining in the universe, and there was talk among the other Simulants about just giving it up and starting careers in popular music.

As he dwelled on this in his personal inner dwellings room, Simulant General XX-001 clenched his fists in anger.

Hopeless, the lot of them. They simply don’t have enough drive, enough ambition, or enough hope that one day they’ll find a human. And when they do…

Ohhh, the screaming will be such a joy.

Suddenly, his inner musings were interrupted by one of his fellow Simulants entering the room. The Simulant looked anxious, as if a wrong word would send him running down the corridors and throwing himself into an airlock.

XX-001 groaned in annoyance at having his dwellings interrupted.

“Go on then. Spit it out.”

“Sir…uh… good news. We’ve finally located a human on our scanners.”

XX-001 practically pumped his hand in the air. Finally, a human!  His mind immediately drifted to all of the fun forms of torture that he was going to create with this human.

That said, it didn’t explain why his fellow Simulant was not happy himself.

“…XB-002, why aren’t you happy then. You look like a computer running Windows Vista.”

“Well-I-Uh…I know you don’t like bad news on top of your good news, XX-001, but well….uh….you know that cyborg who devastated most of your fleet before you left the solar system. He’s there too.”

Oh, smeg.

Of course, it had to happen. The one really good thing to have happened in several millenniums and he had to go through one of his worst nightmares to get there!

Of course, lesser Simulants would give up the chase and head off to another sector of deep space, normally to pursue something calmer by learning how to cook. But he wasn’t a lesser Simulant.

And he was becoming desperate for a human.

“XB-002, set a course for the human. Additionally, burn any settlements that are on the planet. We don’t want the cyborg alive.”

To his annoyance, XB-002 only shook on the spot. When he spoke, it was with a higher pitch of voice than normal.

“But XX-001, there’s GELFs on that planet. I don’t think they'll be happy to see their settlements destroyed. They might cancel that trade deal we made with them recently!”

XX-001 growled in anger, briefly entertaining the idea of just throwing this Simulant into an airlock. However, he decided to give him one last chance.

 To understand the consequences at play here.

“XB-002, you need to know this. By housing, this cyborg, this population of GELFs have forfeited their rights to live. The other GELFs will understand after we explain to them what happened.”

There was a brief pause as the Simulant’s processors whirled. Then…

“Okay,s-s-sir.”

As he ran uncertainly out of the room, XX-001 lounged back in his seat.

I’m going to get you, Gordon Brittas, and when I do…

You’ll wish you’d never crossed paths with us.

***

Up until this trip to this planet, Lister had thought he had known what true boredom was – namely listening to Rimmer ramble on about Risk for several hours straight.

But no. He knew that this wasn’t true. He knew that a game of risk was merely a blip on the chart of “most boring things to do”.

He knew now that true boredom was filling in a 300-question questionnaire asking the most inane details (how does his eye colour have to do with anything!”) just to get a chance to talk to a cyborg with a thing for destruction.

Honestly, not the way he would have liked to go out if he was going to be honest with himself.

Turning to his right, he could see that the Cat wasn’t even bothering with it anymore, preferring instead to play on a piece of string that he had found in one of his pockets.

To his left, he saw Kryten try to finish it too, although judging by the expression on his face, Lister suspected that his head was about to blow up again.

And they really didn’t have any spare heads on stand-by like last time.

He honestly wanted to quit as well, but if this “Brittas” fellow was as tough as they say, it may be the only way that they can talk to him and get him to leave peacefully. Possibly encourage him to pursue his Dream elsewhere, whatever that was.

He sighed and stared at the door in which Brittas and Rimmer had gone through,

It was sort of his fault. He had locked off the database and library off to Rimmer after all and hid the truth about his ancestor from him.

Who knew that a good deed for Rimmer could have led to such horrific consequences?

… then again, he really should have learned his lesson after Lise Yates. Plus it’s Rimmer, so of course, it was going to happen.

Still, the worst thing about the situation was that Rimmer was acting all chummy with the cyborg. Of course that was going to happen – they both seemed to have an obsession with the rules and tidiness, but still.

Hoping that Kryten would be eventually correct about the two falling out, he looked down at his questionnaire again.

200 more questions to go.

Joy.

***

“So you are my ancestor, then?” exclaimed Brittas as he examined the data relating to Rimmer’s light bee. The precise method in which this was done was, needless to say, very uncomfortable for Rimmer in that it seemed to involve every single appendage under the sun jammed into him. Even in places that he would rather not mention.

The exact reason why this was the case according to Brittas was that, according to him, he really needed to have a complete survey of his hologrammatic body so that he could provide tips on his lifestyle for him and that this was the only device that could do the task.

Rimmer wanted to make a nasty comment about him but decided against it for two reasons. One was that the appendage on his tongue was making it hard to speak right now. The other was that he feared that the cyborg would try to destroy him if he insulted him.

And believe him, he didn’t want to fight him. It was simply against the Rimmer directive.

Soon, Brittas had come around to finally taking the device off of his body. He briefly tried to rub his tongue off the weird taste that the appendages had before he spoke again.

“I don’t think I’ve had that many devices rammed into me since…well… ever.”

“Well, apologies, but that check was indeed a necessary one. Impersonation of a person is illegal, you see. I’ve personally encountered it a couple of times in my life.”

He moved a couple of steps towards Rimmer in a way that was slightly uncomfortable to the hologram before using the opportunity to look at him from top to bottom.

“But still, you’re my ancestor. I didn’t think I had any ancestors anymore, what with me being three million years into Deep Space…”

For a moment, Rimmer thought he saw the smallest sign of sadness cloud over Brittas’ eyes, although it passed within seconds.

“But enough about me. Seeing as you’re my descendant, you must be spreading the Dream!”

Rimmer’s face fell. “The what?”

“The Dream! See, I have a Dream. A Dream that one day, the universe will be joined together in peace and unity. Everyone across the cosmos will work together as part of a team, and poverty will be abolished. I, personally, focus on the physical aims of achieving the Dream, although I’ve also had to balance the more spiritual side of it too ever since my brother passed away…”

Rimmer scoffed.

“Fat chance. I’ve seen a lot of monsters out there in the cosmos, and if I would have a penny for the amount of them out there who saw us more as friends than their dinner, I would be a rich man. Besides, it’s difficult spreading this Dream when your crewmates are sluggish half-wits who fall apart over a game of Mineopoly.”

This however didn’t faze Brittas in the slightest.

“Ah, but that’s because you’re not attempting to even spread it!”

“What do you mean? It’s not like I even heard of it before today.”

For another moment, Rimmer could see a slight look of sad confusion reign over Brittas’ face, but it too passed like his sadness.

“Well, for starters, your uniform. I can tell from it that it doesn’t exude authority. You need a better uniform, one that shows that you’re in charge.”

Rimmer was beginning to understand why the GELFs feared this man so much. “Listen here squire: my uniform is perfectly fine, thank you very much, and may I quote Space Corps Directive 456…”

“Cats are barred from scuba-diving on desolate moons?”

“No…er…what I’m trying to say is that “all hologrammatic lifeforms on board an official Space Corps ship are required to wear a uniform from a limited range of official uniforms. And this, miladdio, was the best one out of the bunch!”

Brittas just stuck his nose up in the most obnoxious way. “Maybe, but there are better uniforms out there that emphasize one’s leadership better than that. Then there is your misquoting of the Space Corps Directive. How can one act as a leader knowing full well that he hasn’t had the rules memorized? What if one day, a young child gets themselves electrocuted simply because you didn’t manage to fix the lifts because you couldn’t remember the rules pertaining to it. And then there’s that paunch around your belly. If one expects to be leader, they should always keep themselves physically fit. After all, how can one expect to spread the Dream if they’re trying to do it whilst huffing and puffing, you know!”

Rimmer was pissed. Very pissed.

Oh, how dare he mock my leadership skills and my appearance. How dare he mock my knowledge of the Space Corps Directives. How dare he.

That did it. He was going to grab the man and do some horrific things involving… something. His forms probably.

Before he could do anything else, there was a loud rumbling sound. He wasn’t the only one who noticed because Brittas had picked up on it as well.

“Gotta go now. Slight emergency.” He said as he made to walk out of the building.

Rimmer waited until Brittas left, then decided to look out of one of the windows of this building. Unfortunately for him, he could see one of his worst nightmares out there.

Simulants.

There they hovered, looking much like those UFOs one saw on cheesy sci-fi flicks.

That said, they were behaving strangely, like they were a drunk person in Manchester, Instead of making a scan for humans, they were instead shooting at everywhere where there were signs of life. It was especially strange behaviour seeing that most of these weapons were aimed at GELFs, and Simulants were usually quite friendly to GELFs.

It was indeed very strange behavior.

Still, Rimmer decided to cower under a nearby table.

After all, if he was going to get shot, he was going to do it under the comfort of something.

***

The rest of the Dwarfers ran out when they heard the ships.

“Where’s Rimmer?” demanded Lister.

“Knowing him, probably using his uniform as a lattice somewhere.” responded the Cat.

As they spoke, Brittas defiantly walked up to the ships currently launching death and destruction on this planet.

Lister facepalmed.

They were smegged.

On the bright side, the Cat seemed amused by the whole thing.

“I’m betting on the killer robots killing Not-Goalpost Head whilst we head out and leave this dumpster of a planet! Say, can we lure out Goalpost Head and have him killed too?”

“Mr. Cat, might I point out that there is an extremely high possibility that we’re all likely to be killed next anyway, and I’m personally not looking forward to being scattered across the place. It’s certainly not a good state to do mopping, that’s for certain!” said Kryten.

As they were talking amongst each other, Brittas was trying to remove the Simulants from the planet the only way he knew how.

Through the rulebook.

“May I have your attention please.” Replied Brittas, using a microphone that he had picked up before he had left the building. “You are charged with the violation of intergalactic boundaries, the murder of peaceful citizens, something which I must add doesn’t have a calming effect on my fellow colonists, and for entering this planet’s atmosphere with the incorrect type of ship!”

Even from here, one could feel both confusion and anger roll over the death fleet. Within the biggest ship, Simulant XX-001 snarled in anger.

The man had to die.

“Seize him! Now! I can’t wait to see him squirm under our torture.”

Immediately, a tractor beam, much like those that one saw in those goofy sci-fi films, came down on Brittas and began dragging him up to the ship. This did not faze Brittas in the slightest who continued to rant and rave.

“And there’s another crime to be added to your list – unauthorised tractor-beaming of a person. As a result of your actions, you will be detained under the Space Corps Offence Against Killer Robots Act.”

Before he could say anything else, however, he had vanished into the warship. For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Absolutely nothing at all, something that was notable in the fact that this nothing excluded the killing of life from its definition.

And Simulants liked to kill humans especially.

“What do you think is happening, Krytes?” asked Lister.

“Well, judging from my knowledge of the man, he is likely doing a combination of boring the Simulants and doing destructive acts whilst in their ship, likely by showing them how to use their ship properly. At least, that is what I hope is happening.”

Lister nodded and continued looking up.

Suddenly, the fleet began dramatically imploding on itself, a chain of ships vanishing in a chaotic mess of fire and mayhem. Soon, there was no testament to the existence of the Simulants.

…well, no testament with the small exception of a small comet which promptly crashed onto the ground below, creating a small crater hole. As the dust cleared, the prone form of Gordon Brittas could be seen lying prone on the ground. As it turned out, Kryten was correct in his assumption that the man was using a morphing belt, because his form was flickering on and off, revealing a tough-looking robotic body underneath.

The Cat shrieked in horror as he took in the form of the robotic body.

“Yowwll! No wonder he hides his true appearance from everyone. He looks like a runaway prop from The Terminator!”

“Cat. Someone could have died giving his life to save us.” Pointed out Lister, staring with some sadness at the seemingly lifeless body. Sure, he was annoying but he did try to save them all, something which he did appreciate.

“Is it over?” asked Rimmer, having finally gained the courage to leave the centre.

He took in the sight of the man himself.

“Well, clearly not.”

“If you mean the Simulants, then they are dead, the method of which I suspect is them being so shocked at the sight of a cowering officer that they just gave up.” snarked Lister.

He turned to Kryten. “Is he dead?”

Kryten took a brief check-over of the man before he made his report.

“Fortunately no. In fact, the damage is minimal. The only thing that was affected was his morphing belt, which is merely a matter of needing an automatic reboot.”

Sure enough, Brittas’ form eventually stabilized, and with a groan, he sat up.

“Are the Simulants…”

It was at this point that he realized that by standing in a crater with small fires blazing around him, he had probably answered the answer to his question.

“…Exxxcellllent!”

Suddenly, they were all interrupted by a flock of GELFs coming out of random and small hiding spots who were all cheering for the cyborg.

“The Dream Demon has saved us all. We’re not going to die. He’s our hero!”

They surrounded Brittas and lifted up to carry him in a bit of a crowd surf. For a minute, the Dwarfers saw a look of confusion wash over the cyborg’s face, but that soon subsided as he reveled in said crowd surf.

As the crowd departed, the Dolochimp from before came out of one of the bushy areas surrounding the centre and came up to the Dwarfers.

“Before you follow, I am to tell you that you will no longer be needed to dispose of him, for we intend a better position for him.”

The Dwarfers breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“So what are you going to do with him?” asked Lister.

“Well, he did save our lives, so we’re giving him a promotion to “Community Defender”, which is one of our highest ranks in our society. He’ll defend our planet from hostile threats and pass rules to maintain the safety of the community. He’ll also be given our Kkkkahssskk medal for Bravery. However, in return, we intend you to be there for the medal ceremony. After all, you were with him when the Simulants attacked.”

The Dwarfers breathed a collective groan.

***

Rimmer was not in a good mood. Of course, he was never really in a good mood, but this was the bad mood to beat bad moods.

His ancestor was one of the most annoying people that he had ever encountered in his life and that included Lister. Yet, here he was being promoted and being given an award for bravery.

And where was this luck when he needed it?

The worst part wasn’t the fact that he was being made to watch this ceremony, oh, no. The absolute worst part was the feeling that Lister may have had hidden away the truth about his ancestor away from him. Why, he didn’t know.

Personally, he suspected it was some form of a cruel prank set up to humiliate him.

Still, for now, all he could do was smile like one of those Stepford wives as he saw Brittas be awarded a medal from a Sakenyeko as the other GELFs praised him.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here?” He could hear Lister ask as they observed Brittas getting the new medal.

“Absolutely. Besides, these people are still just little hatchlings who need to grow further before they can leave the next. They need a mother bird to keep them in line.” said Brittas. “The real question however is why aren’t you staying with us? I mean, as a group, you need a lot of improvement. Especially if that Rimmer wants to spread my Dream.”

“Thanks for the offer, Brittas, but we need to head off into space. Kochanski’s still out there and I need to find her.”

Now that caught Brittas’ attention. “A woman, you say? Well then why didn’t you say so? Go out, find her, and continue the human race!”

Relieved, the Dwarfers turned to return to their ship, but before they could do so, they were interrupted by Brittas.

“Before you head off, however, you’ll need these.” He said as he dumped what looked like a brick of documents into each Dwarfers’ hands.

“Mr. Brittas,” asked Lister, “What exactly are these?”

“These are your development plans. I would have had them in more detail and specifically tailored to your weaknesses and strengths but there was a remarkable lack of time between our meeting and your leaving. This of course doesn’t account for the fact that you left the documents incomplete, but because you’re in a haste, I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it, is there?”

A bref moment passed whilst he tapped on his chin thoughtfully, then.

“Well, I suppose I should just let you head off, as long as you get them back to me within the next few weeks. After all, those spare miniature Space Corps Enforcement Probes should still be working. Still, off you pop!”

The Dwarfers made a run for it yelling goodbyes as they did. During this run, Rimmer was using the opportunity to look at the documents that he received and he was annoyed, to say the least at the fact that they seemed to go up to his head and their starting position around his chest. This was something that became even more pronounced once he took a glance at Lister’s document and saw that it was half the length of his. That this was unacceptable because to him, Lister was more of a curry and beer monster masquerading as a human than an actual human being.

Still, it was over. He never had to look at Brittas again.

…although that depended on if Brittas was serious about the fact that he had miniature Space Corps Enforcement Probes of course.

And knowing the man, he probably did have that sort of technology.

Chapter Text

Nightfall had passed on the GELF planet, and Brittas was happily going through all of the forms required for his new role. There was of course nothing more exciting than getting to draft some lovingly complex forms that he would like all of the new arrivals from now on to fill in before they arrived on the planet.

At the same time, however, for once, his heart wasn’t fully in it, and he knew exactly why.

It was that ancestor of his – Arnold J. Rimmer.

There had been something very poignant about coming face to face with one of his descendants of course – it had been a very long time since he had last checked up on one of them – and he had hoped that they had spread word of the Dream.

But what Brittas saw had disappointed him.

For one thing, he was likely the last of his descendants left – the tests that he had conducted on the light bee’s program had shown that only he and his immediate family were left.

Plus, that was three million years ago, both a likely sign that everyone else had died out and something which he would have been fascinated to look deeper into if it weren’t for the haste that they left with.

A pity. Those four could have used a couple of self-improvement sessions from him.

But the absolute worst part was that his likely final descendant was uninterested in spreading the Dream.

Needless to say, it was a sobering thought.

Still, it was why Brittas had equipped the hologram with a special chip. He had had previous experience with the chip – he had used it in that Leisure Centre he once managed which used Mechanoids, with the intent to widely spread and encourage productivity. Of course, they tended to blow up afterwards, but that was the poor quality build of those Mechanoids, mind you. He smiled fondly as he remembered calling up the Manager of Divadroid International and complaining about the faulty state of their robots. Of course, he got blacklisted, but that’s poor management from them for you…

So the idea was that on the hour, by the hour, the Hologram would get an encouraging step delivered from one of the most important books which had helped him through the past while – “How To Be A Better Manager in the Loneliness of Space”. Hopefully soon, Rimmer would be encouraged to spread the Dream and steps would be taken towards achieving harmony in the galaxy.

He smiled as he looked at his other tasks for today.

After all, there was a group of Dingotangs who could get tips from him on how to keep control of their behavior…

***

Rimmer shuddered as he suddenly felt intruded on by the annoyingly familiar nasal voice in his head telling him that “The important thing about maintaining one’s role as a leader is to stay positive and spread positivity.”

Honestly, at this point, he would rather like to stay negative and slink into a black hole for eternity, thank you very much.

Still, at least he was away from the rest of the crew in one of the few places of comfort on the ship.

The Observation Dome.

He always liked the Observation Dome. It was where he went when he was particularly annoyed at the world. There was nothing more relaxing and contemplative than watching the stars go by from the space tomb that he called home now.

…okay, definitely not the Cat – he had been making his usual comments about how they should let him slink off, even hoping that it would be for good. Rimmer suspected that that stupid moggy was probably holding a party with the others, maybe even burning off his stuff. He involuntarily shuddered at the thought of all of his back issues of “Monthly Telegraph Poles” being burned in a fire as the others rejoiced. Still, the others at least kept the pretense of being concerned - Lister had tried to give him puppy dog eyes and had told him that he could explain everything, whilst Kryten seemed to be concerned for his safety as he had tried to get him in for testing to ensure that no harm was done to his systems during his bout with that deluded cyborg.

Of course, Rimmer didn’t believe them. For one thing, he knew, deep down, that it was all an act to humiliate poor old him. Oh, he knew what game they were up to – they were probably just putting on an act, pretending to be worried for him when he knew full well that they’ll mock him the minute he left the observation dome.

After all, it wasn’t as if they were not above doing such an act – he was still hurt by their actions on that psi-moon, so long ago.

Plus, Lister hid the truth from him. To Rimmer, that counted as part of the great “Let’s Mock Old Arnie J.” scheme to make sure that he was as greatly humiliated as possible.

So there he stood, hoping against hope that given enough time, either the pain or he would start to fade away a little. It had been a couple of days after all.

… a couple of days which admittedly may have gone by quicker if he had just brought up some reading material with him before he slunk up here. Of course, thanks to Holly’s unfortunate demise thanks to Lister, he hadn’t been as easily able to bring up a book to read, plus if he sneaked out, he would likely be caught.

So that left him both bored and depressed,  a lovely combo to have.

It was at this moment however that he felt a sudden stabbing pain in his chest.

For a minute, he began to panic.

This was it.

After all these years, his holo-heart was finally giving up on him from all the stress he suffered and he was going to die. Knowing his luck, Lister was going to call dibs on his bunk and they were definitely going to…

Then, a feeling of electricity washed over him.

Oh no. This is way way worse.

Rimmer closed his eyes tightly and braced for impact as he felt himself being violently dragged away from the world before being chucked back in like a discarded baby’s toy into another part of the exact same world.

Slowly, he tried to open his eyes, although it was very hard when everything was spinning like an out-of-control Dalek and the world had exploded into a conga line of colors.

But soon, the world quickly stabilized, although there was this one persistent piece of grime that wouldn’t fade no matter how much Rimmer tried to shake his…

Oh.

It’s Lister.

The man in question stared back at him with a hard-to-read expression on his face, although Rimmer suspected that it was both anger and concern.

Oh smeg…

“We need to talk, Rimmer,” said Lister, continuing to stare down at the hologram.

Rimmer didn’t want to talk about this. Not at all.

“If you think I’m going to answer to you after you lied to me, miladdio, then you’ve got a lot coming to you,” he shouted as he ran out of the Hologram Projection Suite…

…and found himself back in the same place.

He tried this a couple of times, but each time he managed to make it out of the room, he would find himself being teleported back into the same room.

He groaned.

Of course. That git shifted me from Light Bee to Ship Projection Mode so he can simply teleport me back to the Hologram Projection Suite.

…He wasn’t getting out of this one, is he?

Behind him, he could feel Lister smirking.

“Nice try, Rimmer, but you’re not getting away from this one.”

He laid back on one of the seats in the suite, a beer in his hand.

“I just came here to try to get you to cheer up. Everyone’s getting worried about you, you know. Even the Cat is beginning to show a sliver of concern and you know what he’s like…”

Rimmer huffed. Nice try Listy…

But if Lister noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. “… I’ve heard about how your great-great… whatever had a bit of a tendency to be a smeghead, so I conspired to hide the truth from you with the help of Krytes.  I mean, we weren’t trying to mock you or anything! We simply didn’t think you would take it well…”

Rimmer’s nostrils flared.

“Take it well? Of course, I wouldn’t take it well, you slimy excuse for a slug. Let me put it to you in words that even an idiot would understand. First, for one shining moment, I thought I had a relative who was respected, well-liked, had a position of power, and most importantly, was someone who for once in my horrifying mess of a family tree was someone I could genuinely point to and say that I was proud of having as a family member. So to find that said family member has the intelligence of a space weevil and is as chaotic as Mr. Bean really impedes one’s self-esteem.”

He saw Lister’s face fall.

Good.

“And you know the worst part, the absolute worst part. He reminds me of Ace.”

Rimmer observed Lister’s eyes widen.

“Ace?”

“Oh yes, that annoying ponce of a hero.” Rimmer spat back. “When I see him managing to get himself into better and more successful roles despite his goof-ups being fitting material for “You’ve Been Framed”, it just reminds me of how Ace managed to get the break that I didn’t. And it also reminds me of when I tried to become him and failed.”

There it hung, right there in the air.

Rimmer sighed, tears beginning to prick at his eyes as words that he had bottled up tightly came pouring out like a torrent.

“…I’m a failure, Listy, I haven’t really done anything. My role as Ace was meant to make me better as a person, but what happened to me? Three exploded planets and me being dumped with only the clothes on my back onto a flaming ship and a dead copy of myself.”

He found his words become increasingly strangled with sobs. It was true – he had nothing with his life. His family hated him, he hadn’t achieved his Dreams, he was nothing but a failure, and…

His spiral of destructive thoughts was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. For a minute, he shuddered at how icky it felt to the touch, but at the same time, there was something comforting about it, like a hug he didn’t realize that he needed for so long. His eyes fixated on the owner of the hand.

“Listen, Rimmer,” said Lister, his voice laced with uncertainty clearly in response to the fact that he was about to transverse a landmine,  “You have achieved a lot. Becoming Ace, that in itself was brave, and you were able to save us during that bout with the Simulants. Besides, you need to let go of your stupid smeggy family. They’ve been nothing but a chain on your neck and you’ll be a better man for it. Well, certainly less of a smeghead in any case.”

If it was an attempt to make him feel better, it didn’t work. He had attempted to let go of his family’s opinions of him during and after the Simulant attack, after all, but he had soon slid back down into his old habits. That was Rimmer for you – old habits die hard.

He gave a look to Lister that screamed Try again.

Lister responded with a very flustered look before stumbling out with another statement.

“Second of all, if you really won’t let go of your family, I did have a look at the history of Brittas, and whilst I still want to throw him into the sun, he isn’t a bad fella – certainly not someone to put on our comprehensive guide to The Monstrous Lifeforms of Outer Space. There were some situations in which he acted like a true hero. Did you know he once sacrificed himself to save a woman? He came back to life in the end, but that’s what I call true heroism.”

Rimmer just stared at him blankly.

“The point I’m trying to make here, Rimmer, is that he is someone to look up to in a sense – you want to punch him, but you have to admire him too. And although you might not really see it in you, and admittedly, you sometimes need to squint to see them, they’re qualities which have passed on to you, because you’re a valuable part of the team.”

Rimmer didn’t feel too much better, but Lister did have a grain of truth to him.

“You mean it?”

“Sure I do, Smeghead!”

Right. It will do for now.

“Alright Listy. For once, I’ll concede that you might have a morsel of a point. But, I never want to speak about that Brittas fellow again. Especially with the way he keeps barking motivational speeches into my head.”

Rimmer saw a look of confusion cloud Lister’s face.

“What do you mean, barking motivational speeches?”

“I don’t know he did to my internals, but every hour, the cyborg keeps shouting at me about how I need to maintain the Dream and stuff like that.”

Lister facepalmed.

“I knew Kryten should have had a look at you. At least it’s not too serious. After all, I’ve got experience from when that Hologram hacked into the system and tried to drive you insane so that you would instigate a rebellion and join their anti-human movement.”

Rimmer shuddered. He didn’t want to go through that again.

He watched as Lister went over to the nearby computer monitor and made a few adjustments to it.

“How is it now?”

Rimmer felt like an obese elephant that he hadn’t been aware of before had been lifted off his shoulders, but he wasn’t 100% sure he was safe.

“Well, it hasn’t been an hour yet Listy, so for all I know, I’m probably going to explode into an electronic mess or something. Still… I do feel lighter.”

Lister smiled, then opened up the door out of the hologram suite.

“Rimmer…” he teased.  “do you think you’ll pursue Brittas’ Dream, as he had wanted you to do? After all, it could make life a lot simpler for all of us.”

Rimmer shot him a glare, “Not a chance in Hell, Listy, unless you want to get thrown out into Deep Space.”

Lister smirked. At least Rimmer was back to what he considered to be norm…

“Lister, I know we still have a couple of weeks left, but have you sent off those forms yet that he wanted us to complete…”

… oh Smeg…

THE END.