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Chapter Text

HELP WANTED - Do your bit for Earth! Do your bit for humanity!
Join the WALL-E’s today and reap all of the wonderful benefits* provided. By becoming a Waste Allocation Load Lifter (Earth class), you can help restore our planet to its former glory of life and vibrancy. In the given 5 years, we at Buy ‘n Large hope to clear up our world and make it safe for the rest of humanity once more. Join us today and you can go down in history as a member of the team who cared. So do your bit, become a WALL-E today!

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Work. That was all this was ever going to be. No heroics or celebration like the poster had said; not even relatively good pay. It was just work. Not that Lister had signed up to the job with hopes of his memory being preserved, if anything he’d rather be completely forgotten. He’d only signed up due to being in a tight financial spot at the time, having just dropped out of school. He figured that if it was a job that came with heroics, it was a job that would come with good money. Maybe even a decent set of people to mess around with too.

He was almost entirely wrong.

For a start, the money and conditions were abysmal and to top it off, there hadn’t been a ‘decent person to mess around with’ for almost five years. Really, there hadn’t been any person for five years. Lister was, in his entirety, the last human on earth.

It didn’t necessarily mean that the human race was on the brink of extinction however; in fact, the majority of the population were still alive and well, all of them having gone to live in the fleet of starships commissioned by corporate giant Buy ‘n Large. The collective realisation that the earth was near uninhabitable due to the level of waste had prompted this move, billions of people going to live out among the stars. The only ones left on the decrepit planet was an unfortunate group of people known as WALL-E’s, tasked with the impossible job of clearing up the mess. It didn’t really matter anymore though. It had been years. Most of the WALL-E’s were now gone.

Lister’s goggles whirred and clicked softly, adjusting to the dim light as he wearily scanned the environment, taking extra care not to dislodge any load bearing rubbish as he trudged over the mound of high piled waste. Dull dregs of sunlight poured through gaps in the acrid clouds, deceptively cold as they lit the way for the lone figure. He pulled his deerstalker down over the tips of his ears to warm them; the winter weather had been suspiciously normal for the past couple of days and it worried Lister. There had been no dramatic rainstorms, thunderstorms or snowstorms for quite a while, which meant that he was one hundred percent due some awful weather very soon.

Finally reaching a clearing, Lister bent to set the compactor on his back down, silence around him broken by the thud of the box-like machine hitting the ground. His muscles groaned painfully as he stretched, a futile attempt at releasing some of the tension built up from hauling the machine around. Surrounding his clearing were vast hills of trash: an abundance of plastic food wrappers, endless stacks of rotten cardboard boxes, rows upon rows of half crushed cans and piles of old broken household appliances. All topped off with a gleaming layer of multi-coloured shards of glass.

A cockroach scuttled towards him, bouncing hopefully as Lister reached into the satchel that was slung over his shoulder. Somehow in his time alone, Lister had managed to befriend the large population of cockroaches that were now the main inhabitants of the Earth; feeding them scraps of his rations and providing them protection from the extreme fluctuations in the weather. In Lister’s mind, it had been a sort of defence mechanism to befriend them, in desperate hope that they would be able to replace his need for human interaction. Befriending them had worked, the replacement human interaction hadn’t. He wondered what his friends would have said if they saw him now. Petersen probably would have made some stupid joke about Lister ‘finally being at the family reunion’, Chen and Selby would probably have agreed and Kochanski... Lister wasn’t really sure how Kochanski would react.

Shaking his head at the expectant insect, Lister pulled a pair of his thick leather gloves from the depths of his satchel, sighing reluctantly as he set about his work. He laboriously scooped handfuls of rubbish into the compactor machine until it was full, slammed the scratched lid down and pressed the large ‘compact’ button. It did nothing. Lister frowned slightly and gave the machine a kick -adding to the already gaping dent that had been developing in its side- before it rumbled reluctantly into life, swiftly expelling a brand-new cube of multicoloured trash onto the dusty ground beside it. Bending to pick it up, Lister took the cube to the edge of the clearing, setting it down in order to create a new –vaguely even– pyramid of rubbish.

And then the process repeated.

Rubbish. Slam. Press. Beep. Nothing. Kick. Thunk. Rumble. Thud.

He’d been putting off going to get a new compactor for months; visiting the workers centre was not something he enjoyed doing at all, preferring to visit only a handful of times throughout the year in order to stock up on supplies in bulk. The number of replacement compactors stored inside was getting dangerously low and at this point, the building was near collapse. It was an awful structure; old, rotten, singed and unbelievably creepy. Those were just a few of the many reasons Lister despised visiting.

Just about small enough to be carried on his back, the once vibrant orange of the box-shaped machine was now covered in rust and various dents, making it much more of an orangey-brown than anything else. It almost matched the colour of Lister’s jacket perfectly, both dramatically worn down over years and years of use. The jacket had been part of an official WALL-E uniform, a warm orange with grey cuffs and the wearer’s name emblazoned down the right arm. The rest of the uniform was far too restrictive for the wearer to comfortably work in, so Lister just opted for the jacket, covering it with the various old patches he could scavenge.

Lister wasn’t entirely sure why he kept doing his job -sifting through and compacting rubbish wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time- but for some odd reason it gave him hope. If he could just get even the smallest bit of the wretched planet clean and flourishing again, maybe the others would come back. Even if it had been years since humanity had abandoned him, and the chance of them actually returning was close to none, he still clung desperately onto the hope that he wouldn’t be alone forever. But there wasn’t much point to it all, was there? It would all just get ruined once they came back and then they would leave him. All. Over. Again.

Lister tossed his dark locs over his shoulder as he crouched down to grab the next handfuls of rubbish, eyes lighting up a little from behind the goggles as he saw the flash of colour. He liked to collect useful objects and objects that reminded him of people, the more intact the better. This certain discovery was a jumbled up Rubik’s cube, somehow still in one piece, colours on the peeling stickers still somewhat vibrant. Lister wasn’t sure how it had survived so well for so long, it’s preserved nature giving him a small glimmer of hope for the future. Carefully, he stuffed it into his beaten up satchel as he continued to go about work.

As the sun began to slip further and further below the frosty horizon, Lister found himself placing his final block onto the square he had created. The structure was quite large now, covering a substantial area of the expanded clearing. This square would eventually become a pyramid, like dozens of others he’d built before. Today had been one of his most productive days in a while and his muscles ached, screaming out for the comfort of rest. He’d barely even noticed the clicking of his goggles as they adjusted into night vision mode, whirring softly as they cast the world into a greenish hue. Exhausted and alone, he began the daunting trek back home.

The large metal door of the abandoned storage container –orange like his jacket and compactor- hummed as it fell open, landing noisily in front of him like the bridge across a moat. Stumbling inside, Lister flicked on the lights from a battered extension lead attached to the wall, sets of fairy lights illuminating the inside with their various colours. He had been quite pleased with himself that he’d found so many sets of lights still intact, although not forgetting Kochanski’s effort in helping him. Back when she was alive. Back when any of the WALL-E’s were alive. He missed them all. Desperately.

He dumped the compactor lazily in the corner, abandoning his stiff work boots next to it and placing the whirring goggles on top. He smiled slightly, from this angle it looked like a small, box shaped robot. Other than the cockroaches, it was the best company he’d had in years. Lister turned and emptied the contents of his satchel onto the makeshift table behind him, splaying his findings for the day across the surface: another badge to go with the legion already on his jacket, a can opener, a full –practically unused- glue stick and the Rubik's cube, the new pride of his collection. It had really been an alright day. He still hadn’t located a third string for his battered guitar, but it was fine. There had to be some strings somewhere.

Switching on the ancient television sat haphazardly in the corner, Lister began to relax for the evening, selecting a disc from the small collection and placing it reverently into the player. Over the past few years of working and collecting he’d only been able to find around forty films. Technically he had twenty-eight films if you counted ones that actually worked, and an even smaller seventeen films that Lister would actually watch. He’d seen them all countless times and had begun to get bored of some of them, it was getting concerning; he was almost beginning to consider finally watching the scuffed copy of The Princess Diaries that Petersen had found years ago. Today, he was watching -for the millionth time- It’s a Wonderful Life. He should have been sick of it from watching it so much, yet it was still one of his favourite films ever. He had it on in the background as he rummaged through his storage system, placing his new finds on various shelves and hunting for food. He was beginning to run out of dehydrated vindaloo, something that worried him deeply. He frowned, he really did need to make another trip to the workers centre soon. There was bound to be some more food there. Regrettably, there always was. He hated going back there.

The television crackled as Lister flopped onto the patched up bean bag in front of it, rehydrated curry slopping over the edge of his plate and landing with a quiet splat on the corrugated iron of the floor. He didn’t bother to clean it up, it was at home with dozens of other stains just like it. Lister sighed contentedly as he became engrossed in the film, laughing and crying despite already knowing what was going to happen from the last hundred times he’d seen it.

Flickering gently in the dim room, the film slowly came to an end and quietly began to display the credits as Lister wiped the salty tears from his eyes. The ending to It’s a Wonderful Life always made him emotional -sobbing uncontrollably more often than not- but today, instead of the usual ‘watching a film tears’ he felt like a pit had opened within his chest. As he watched George Bailey surrounded by those who loved him, his wife, his children and his friends, Lister realised how desperately lonely he was. He subconsciously traced one hand over the other, trying to forget that he was holding his own hand for comfort. It wasn’t uncommon for him to feel this way since the others had gone, but tonight, as he watched George surrounded by affection and warmth, it felt worse than ever. He laced his fingers together and held on tight, but it didn’t make a difference. It wasn’t another person. It wasn’t the same. Lister was jealous of George, the ever loved and cared for man who made a true difference in the lives of people around him, the man who had a family, the man who had love. Why did Lister have to be dealt such an awful hand, left alone to clear up the mess of generations before him, no friends, no family, no love. He desperately wanted, needed to feel the touch of another human being, to be held, to be kissed. Anything.
To distract himself from the gaping hole in his chest, Lister splashed some water onto his face from the recycle sink, pathetically attempting to blur the visible grimy outline around his eyes from the goggles. He gazed wistfully at the person in the cracked mirror, the last human he would ever truly see.
The metal bunk bed attached firmly to the left wall creaked as Lister climbed sluggishly into the top bunk, painfully aware of the lack of anyone in the bed below. He could barely remember how it felt to just hear the presence of another human being at night, the sound of their breathing, the shifting of the sheets as they moved. The sound of life. Everything now was too quiet, too empty. His films were unable to capture the feeling of a live human, they were just something on a screen. Nothing more. Playing the guitar was hardly close to another person and the sound of himself going about his day just reminded him of how alone he really was.

Reaching over to the fairy light switch at the foot of his bunk, Lister plunged the room into darkness, settling uncomfortably into the thin sheets. He stared numbly at the ceiling as he attempted to drift off, sighing gently. It was a miracle he hadn't gone entirely insane in the five long years he'd been alone. It was just him and the cockroaches, he thought absentmindedly, musing on the potential for someone else to arrive. Soon enough, he dozed into a fitful slumber, the ache in his chest numbing as he dreamt.

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Of the day’s finds, this one was definitely the most interesting. For a start, Lister wasn’t even sure what it was. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before, sitting there all green and weird. Something in him made him want to name it ‘Clive’, but he was pretty sure that was not what it was called. It looked frail, precious, and Lister was filled with the need to protect it. All Lister knew was that Clive was special, Clive was important and Clive was alive.

He’d found the object inside a dilapidated old fridge that was leaning against a mound of other various appliances. WALL-E directives stated that any appliance with a door should be checked and emptied before being dragged to the crusher, a monstrous machine much bigger than Lister’s backpack compactor. Usually the appliances would just be filled with dirt or more trash so Lister would more often than not skip out on checking them. There was something about this fridge though -this old, dull white box with a pathetic magnet clinging on for dear life- that made Lister stop the engines of his shoveller truck and hop out, strangely drawn to this completely standard, millions alike fridge. He hadn’t been disappointed.

Glancing quickly around, he located a large torn up boot discarded on the floor which he picked up and filled with soil. Then, he gingerly scooped up Clive and the surrounding dirt, and placed it inside. Lister smiled at his handiwork, it would certainly brighten up his storage container home a bit. He was sure that somewhere in his brain he knew what it was actually called, but his mind had gone blank. Clive it was for now.

Lister arranged the boot in his satchel in a way that the dirt would not spill out, safely nestled in among the other objects inside. Just as he was about to hop back into the truck, he noticed a small red dot glowing temptingly on the floor in front of him. He froze, watching transfixed as the light swirled around the clearing. It stopped again, giving him just enough time to crouch down and hesitantly press his fingers to the ground where it lay, before zooming off into the distance. Lister didn’t think, it was something new and curious, he had to follow it. Abandoning the satchel in the truck, he bolted after the light, scrambling over precarious mounds of rubbish in pursuit. His legs pumped like pistons as he ran between the derelict buildings, muscles feeling like they would give up any moment.

Rippling as it travelled over the trash, the dot taunted him as it moved effortlessly on, pressing him to keep going despite the screaming pain of his legs. The light dipped over a steep pile of rubbish, leaving Lister no choice but to carelessly skid down after it, small cuts forming in his hands as he put them out to stabilise himself. He landed with a thud on the solid ground, the thunder of the tumbling mountain screeching out behind him as he still kept going. The light was slowing now, coming to a sudden halt in the middle of a large, dusty clearing that looked to have once been a city centre.

Lister stood on top of the dot, hunched over and retching as he desperately tried to catch his breath; lungs in excruciating pain, legs feeling worryingly numb. As he panted for breath, he began to realise the increasing number dots that had started to surround him, encircling the main light to form the unmistakable target of a ship’s landing grid. A ship. A ship was going to land!

He scrambled out of the way, dashing behind a large boulder to the left of the clearing as he noticed the growing mass that was descending towards him. It didn’t appear to be a large ship, maybe big enough for one or two people at a squeeze, but it was sleek and impossibly smooth. Lister was able to get a better look as it began to land, the red landing marker blinking off as the flames of the thrusters started to blast against the ground. Even from behind the boulder at a safe distance the air became scorchingly hot around him, Lister felt as if he was going to roast within a matter of seconds. He should have escaped from the charring heat, but he didn’t think, instead desperately bracing himself against the physical urge to run. He had to see what was inside that ship. He heard a terrified scream rip through the air, mixed with the deafening rushing sound of the thrusters. Lister wasn’t exactly aware of where the screams came from, but he had a small suspicion that it was emanating from him.

After what felt like an age of waiting, the roar of the ship’s thrusters began to cease, dying out slowly with a prolonged hiss. Lister shook as the world slowly cooled down, feeling simultaneously melted to oblivion and frozen in all planes of existence. He felt like he’d almost died.

As the ship sat silent in the clearing, Lister peered out nervously from behind his rock. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would see emerging from the capsule -it could be anything- but a small glimmer of hope told him that maybe, just maybe, it would be another human.

Once a few minutes had passed with nothing happening, Lister slowly began to creep towards the craft. He needed to know what was inside.

Without warning, a mechanism began to unfurl from the smooth white surface and a sudden loud buzz echoed through the air. Lister almost jumped out of his skin, his mind running at a million miles a minute. Had it detected him? Was it going to attack? Was there someone inside? Or had his hope lied to him? With limited options of what to do, Lister dashed back behind the rock, startled, choosing to observe the mechanism from a safer distance.

A sleek set of white stairs elegantly unwound themselves from the depths of the ship, humming in a pleasant manner as they settled with a soft thump on the dusty ground. Lister waited impatiently, crouched uncomfortably behind his rock, for something to happen.

A boot stepped out onto the top step, followed swiftly by the second. They were a smooth, un-damaged white, blending almost seamlessly with the white of the steps and ship. Lister felt his heart skip a beat. A human. He was finally seeing someone new after so many years alone, a sign of life. The figure made their way down the steps, purposeful seeming strides to the ground as they emerged. Above the boots was a pair of shiny white trousers, made of some sort of reflective material that gleamed slightly in the dull afternoon light. A sizable metal backpack hovered millimetres from the person, white and smooth like the ship, shaped almost like an elongated -upside down- egg with a large, black oval embedded near the top. It was incredibly odd looking. Following it was a gleaming white jacket, bordered with jet black around the hem and cuffs. And hands! They looked firm and soft and… real. Lister felt like crying. The figure’s back was turned as they finally -almost hesitantly- made contact with the contaminated Earth. It felt un-real, illegal in a way, to see such surgical cleanliness in direct comparison to the bleak world around them; Lister was entranced.

Now the figure was in full view from his spying rock, Lister noted the impossibly short crop of their hair, precise and well kept. They looked around, as if searching for something, despite their somewhat bewildered manner. They’d clearly never been to Earth before. Never seen how bad it truly was. Generations had passed since the ships had left, millions dying and being born having never touched the land of their home planet. Lister had skipped most of the time that had passed, waiting -ageless- in a stasis booth for his group’s ‘shift’ in cleaning up. The plan at first had been that everyone would help at once in the given five years, but once the enormity of the project had been realised, many of the WALL-E’s were sent into stasis booths to ‘take up the next shift’ once the previous shift had all died. A pathetic means to give a longer time boundary. Lister was in the final shift and the project was still nowhere near done. There simply hadn’t been enough workers. The consequent years that had amounted since the project had begun was near seven hundred. Humanity would not be coming back, and yet here someone was. Human.

Unsure of whether to run or greet the figure, Lister stayed completely still - much to the disappointment of his aching knees. Something was bound to happen eventually.

And then something did.

His hand had been resting on a pile of stray cans in order to balance himself in the uncomfortable position. He wobbled. The cans began to tumble. He winced as the clatter of falling metal echoed along the breeze, each can colliding with the floor seeming to make an even louder crash than the last.

The figure spun around swiftly on their heel, movements slightly clumsy, almost as if they weren’t used to their own body. A loud crack thundered through the stale air, followed by the acrid scent of burning hair. Lister screamed. He couldn't help it. The blast had clipped just above his head, having passed through the rock and skimming the top of his hat, promptly setting it alight. He wrenched the hat from his head and began to frantically pat at the small flames, peering wildly through the molten hole in the rock. The figure stood silently, the blaster that Lister had failed to notice still smoking in their hand. Lister was pretty sure that the stranger knew he was there now. Their face bore a stern expression, cold and self important, but Lister was sure he noticed a small flash of worry. It was difficult to tell however, due to the large black visor covering the upper part of their face. Two pale blue ovals glowed where the eyes should be, shifting in shape to best match the emotion below. It was cartoonish almost, like a robot or something similar.

A moment passed as they stared at each other, only the rock seeming to separate them. The figure opened their mouth to speak.

“I know you're there.”

Lister choked slightly, although it was clearly a bad situation, he felt a small glimmer of joy that finally someone was talking to him.

“Come out-” they faltered, “...or I’m afraid I’ll have to use this again.” The stranger motioned at their blaster reluctantly.

Lister felt he had no other choice, standing up slowly, legs still shaking from the muscles being stuck in the same position for so long. Definitely not because he was nervous. Cautiously, he put his hands up and made his way towards the figure, realising that it was a man as he grew closer.

“What are you doing here?” Lister asked hesitantly, swallowing down the tremble in his voice. He couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or excitement.

The figure didn’t respond, instead grasping Lister roughly by the shoulders and bringing him to stand directly in front. Lister barely had time to react before the man grabbed his face, tilting it up to look at him; hands firm against Lister’s skin, squashing his cheeks inward. He felt like melting from the touch of another person, even if they were probably going to kill him. It had been so long. The pixellated ‘eyes’ on the visor darted across Lister’s features -as if they were scanning him-, absorbing every last bit of information they could discover. He had barely realised how much taller the other man was when he was sat behind the rock, but now the height difference was unmistakable. Before Lister could ask what was happening, the man let go, blinking twice before giving a small nod.

“You don’t seem to be much of a threat.”

Lister scoffed slightly, he wasn’t sure whether he should take offence at that or not.

“How did you get off of the Red Dwarf?”

“What Red Dwarf-”

“Although…” The man tailed off, “You aren’t on my citizen database”

“Hold on-” Lister was silenced by what he was sure was meant to be a glare.

“You aren't letting me finish, I'm the one with the database, I'll find it in a second.”

Lister raised an eyebrow and smiled bemusedly, this was bizarre. The eyes flicked from one side of the visor to another, as if the man was reading.

“Look-”

“Shut. Up.”

“I-”

“You thought you were so clever, erasing yourself from the Red Dwarf files so you could sneak down here, didn't you miladdo?”

“No?”

“You wanted to get off of the ship, didn't you?”

“I would kill to live on one of those ships, what’re you talkin’ about.”

The eyes narrowed. “Don't lie to me”

“Why would I want to come down here? Why would anyone want to come down here?”

That seemed to stump the man, he froze, pondering the question. “There has been no unexplained loss of citizens.”

“Exactly.” Lister smiled triumphantly, “Though come to think of it, why are you down here.”

“I'm an EVE, it's my job.”

“And that is…?”

“Classified.”

Lister rolled his eyes, “Right. Sorry for daring to request such information, your highness.” he jabbed, receiving nothing but a wry smile from the other.

“Look, you are still yet to reveal who you are, ‘Mr Mystery’, my database is clearly broken so go on,” he sighed, “who are you then?”

Taking the opportunity to learn some more information, Lister smirked. “It’s classified.”

“Well that's just childish”

“I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours” he chided in a singsong manner.

“Fine.” The man scowled, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “My name is Arnold J Rimmer bsc, ssc. I am an EVE.”

“Which is…?”

“Nope!” Rimmer hummed, apparently pleased that he was able to jab Lister back. “Your turn.”

“I’m Dave Lister, I'm a WALL-E… hold on, what's this bsc, ssc junk after your name? Can't be swimming certificates surely?”

Rimmer appeared slightly flustered at the notion, hands fidgeting absentmindedly as the pair circled each other by the shuttle. “I-” He faltered a moment before deciding to ignore the last section. “So, you're a Waste Allocation Load Lifter are you? I thought you lot were ancient history. That explains why you aren't in the database.”

Lister flinched at the unwanted reminder of his situation, deciding to become very interested in the purple wrapper of a Cadbury bar trapped under Rimmer’s boot.
“Yeah, well here I am. Ancient history.” he muttered.

They stood awkwardly for a moment, looking anywhere but at each other. Rimmer cleared his throat, a half hearted, uncomfortable cough, made to try and clear the air. He bounced nervously on the balls of his feet as he restlessly turned and scanned the environment again.
“Well… I’ve got an important job to do, no time for mindless chatter.” Lister stared at him blankly. “Best be off, it's been a pleasure.”

Lister said nothing as the stranger turned and began to stride off, immaculate white uniform already tarnished by the filth around him. He desperately wanted to say something, ask if they’d ever talk again. But by the time Lister could bring himself to speak, Rimmer was already gone, leaving Lister by the flawless ship. He cursed himself, why did he have to make it sad? Now here he was, alone again.

Chapter Text

Lister had been watching Rimmer. There wasn’t any less of a dodgy way to describe it. Incidentally, although the man clearly had a gargantuan stick up his ass, it was quite amusing to watch him work. Especially when Lister had no idea what Rimmer’s ‘work’ even was. He mostly just seemed to trudge around the place muttering to himself, nose wrinkled at the smell. Occasionally he would kick at some various rubbish heaps or give a halfhearted glance at the inside of an old appliance, groaning disgustedly at the contents, before traipsing off - usually slipping on some miscellaneous muck on the way.

Lister was baffled.

As much as it was entertaining to watch someone so insanely arrogant and self important thrown wildly out of their comfort zone, Lister felt that Rimmer’s ‘job’ had been going on far too long with seemingly no results whatsoever. Either the man was useless or his assignment had no real aim. Possibly both. Maybe someone had just sent him to earth to get him out of the way. Nevertheless, the arrival of this man had definitely given Lister something to do, even if it was just watching him from afar. He had gotten so distracted that it meant he’d done almost none of his own work since the stranger had arrived.

Lister hated how he was behaving, was it really so difficult just to go up to the man and have a chat? It had never been difficult before, although it was a scarily similar feeling to when he had wanted to talk to Kochanski for the first time -simultaneously fluttery and stomach twisting. But that had gone fine for the most part hadn’t it? Lister chalked it up to being out of practice. It had just been so long since he’d properly spoken to anyone, that was all. Talking to people was just like riding a bike, he’d get back into the swing of it quick enough. Besides, his last conversation with Rimmer didn’t go that badly. It was time to grow up, stop stalking this guy and actually talk to him.

An almost entirely clear stretch of blue blanketed the sky as Lister prepared to talk to Rimmer, something that -if he had been paying attention- he should have noted as very unusual. The breeze was inexplicably calm and the weather was generally very nice. Not a good sign at all. If he’d even dared to notice his surroundings, he would have seen the beginnings of ominous grey clouds gathering on the horizon. 100% absolutely not a good sign.

Lister had found Rimmer within the hour; it wasn’t much of a difficult task. Firstly, due to the fact he never strayed far from his orignial landing site, and secondly because it was possible to spot him from a mile away. That impossibly white uniform of his contrasted to an insane degree with the rest of the world, to the point where -on occasion- it almost seemed as if he were glowing which was… odd.

Rimmer seemed to be nudging some rubbish around with the toe of his boot, pulling a discontented face as whatever he was looking for didn’t show up. He had made his way onto the loading dock of where cargo ships were kept, the empty husks of metalwork and machinery looming ominously over the area, casting monstrous shadows over the open space. The water they used to sit in had all dried up for the most part, leading to a rather substantial drop from the edge of the dock if you weren’t careful. Large magnets dangled dangerously overhead, waiting ever patiently for cargo they would never receive.

Lister trudged over to a nearby section of the docks, placed the compactor down with a loud theatrical sigh and began to scoop handfuls of rubbish into it. Technically, this area had been done already -the worst of the trash piles had been compacted, however there were still leftover bits and pieces- but Rimmer didn’t need to know that. Besides, it was the most work he’d really done since Rimmer got here so it probably counted. Lister could see the tall man peering cautiously at him from the corner of his visor as he continued to ‘search’ for whatever he was looking for; the glowing blue ‘eyes’ didn’t make it exactly subtle.

The two worked silently on the dock for a while, exchanging small glances before turning back to their work. Lister frowned, this was getting ridiculous.

Rimmer looked over again. Lister glanced up, smiled and gave a small wave. That was a start. The other man blinked slowly and cast a glance behind himself, blinking again when he saw that -unsurprisingly- noone was there, then nodding warily in Lister’s direction.

Lister decided to take this as an opportunity.

“Hey, Eve!”

Rimmer frowned, rolling his eyes. “Wall-E.”

“Fancy seeing you here then” Lister called along the dock, hoisting the compactor onto his shoulders as he began to wander towards the man.

“It’s almost as if you’ve been following me non-stop for the past week.”

“Sorry for wanting to know why some random guy turned up on my planet.”

“It’s not your planet miladdo, just because you are the last person here doesn’t make it yours.” Rimmer paused for a moment, “And I’m not ‘some random guy’. I’m an EVE.”

“Right, but what even is that? It's been weeks and I’ve not seen you do a thing.”

Rimmer smiled haughtily, the dilapidated control panel beside him giving a halfhearted beep as he leant one arm against it, “Wouldn’t you just love to find out squire.”

There was something strange about the way Rimmer spoke that made Lister’s heart spark a little. He was barely able to contain the joy of speaking to someone again -despite the fact that that ‘someone’ was a bit of a git-, he was a social man by nature; it was in his blood.

“Yeah I would actually-” Lister was cut off as the ground was wrenched away from him, a sudden forcefull pull yanking him into the sky. He scrunched his eyes closed and opened his mouth to scream but it was interrupted by a deafening clang that echoed hauntingly around the docks. His breath was all but knocked out of him as he dangled helplessly by the straps of his compactor, the gentle breeze all the more noticeable from wherever he was now.

A few seconds passed with nothing happening and warily, he opened his eyes. The ground was a dizzying distance below him, as was Rimmer, who stood staring -mouth agape- by the control panel.

“What the smeg did you do?!” He bellowed down, trying to mask the barely concealed terror in his voice. Lister hated heights. “Why the hell am I stuck to a cargo magnet?!”

“Wow, who would have thought that standing under a magnet wearing a magnetic box thing would get you stuck to it.” Rimmer smarmed, resting his arm on the panel again.

Lister yelped as, without warning, the magnet violently shook, his teeth slamming together painfully as the movement stopped.

“It’s a cargo magnet, It doesn’t just turn on and off randomly you git!”

Metres below, Rimmer took an awkward step away from the control panel. “Well I didn’t touch it did I?”

“Yes you smegging did! Get me down!”

“Firstly, no, I didn’t. Secondly, my backpack is up there so I can’t just press the release button. It’ll break when it hits the floor!”

Lister shakily turned his head and noticed the white metal egg shaped thing stuck among various tin cans beside him. He’d seen Rimmer dragging it around since he’d first arrived but it gave no indication that it was a backpack like Rimmer had said it was. “To hell with your damned backpack, what about me?!”

“I’ll have you know that it’s a certified, one of a kind EVE backpack created specifically for my mission. It’s vital! I am not just letting it fall to the floor like that. We’ll have to find another way.” He glanced up at Lister again, “Why don’t you just jump down anyway? Take off the straps of your box-thing and then you can help me with our clearly more pressing matter of getting my bag back.”

The wind seemed to be getting stronger as the two squabbled, “No way am I jumping down from here, have you seen how far a drop this is? I’ll break my legs!”

“Look, I’m just presenting the easier option!”

“The controls are literally right there, just lower the damn thing or something.”

Rimmer paced back and forth on the ground as he thought, occasionally sparing a glance at the man flailing about above him. “I suppose you’re right, can’t possibly trust you to catch it.” He made his way to the control panel, ignoring Lister’s faint irritated groan at his last comment. Blinking lazily away, a myriad of buttons gleamed in the dull light, labels all rather faded. Rimmer froze, what the hell was he supposed to do?

“God this is stupid.” Lister called, now beginning to calm down a little. It wasn’t as if he was going anywhere any time soon. He gave a manic half laugh as he watched the man ponder at the control panel. “Could you hurry up, my shoulders are going numb.”

“Be patient, the buttons are all unlabeled.”

A large red button to the left of the panel appeared to be the on and off switch, Rimmer made a mental note not to press that one -heaven knows what would have happened to his bag. Next to it was a metal toggle -which seemed to control the direction- and beside that was two buttons which must have been the up and down. It wasn’t that complicated really, but Rimmer had never seen such an old fashioned system.

Up on the magnet, Lister noticed a growing brown and grey line building up on the horizon, his short lived moment of hilarity switching straight back to terror. That was not good.

“Hey, this is less of a me thing than an us thing but I’m pretty sure there’s a sandstorm coming this way so you might want to hurry the smeg up!” The last bit sounded more panicked as Lister began to thrash around again in the worsening wind.

“This is vastly complex machinery! I have to carefully decode the buttons otherwise who knows what will happen!”

“Did you not hear the bit about the smegging sandstorm? I’m this close to letting go and leaving your damned bag up there in it Rimmer, hurry up!”

The world seemed to howl in warning as Rimmer pressed a random button, praying to whoever was out there that it was the correct one. The magnet shuddered and began to raise dangerously higher, the shouts of Lister becoming more and more distant.

“NOT THAT BUTTON!”

Rimmer flinched and swiftly pressed the opposite button, prompting an exasperated sigh of relief from Lister as the magnet finally settled to standing height. Lister quickly took off the straps of his compactor -feeling the pain of the sudden rush of pins and needles to his legs- as Rimmer dashed over and attempted to grab the backpack, being pulled back when the metal oval refused to detach from the magnet.

“You have to turn it off!”

“Right.” Rimmer called as he dashed back over to the panel.

The roar of the sandstorm drew ever closer as Lister pulled on his goggles and sand mask, watching with horror as the dust crept over the far edge of the docks.

“We’ve got to go now!” He yelled at Rimmer, roughly taking hold of the man’s arm as he began to drag him to the storage container that he called home.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” Rimmer shouted back, voice barely audible over the rush of dust and grime behind them.

“Trust me! It’s not far!”

The world was plunged into murky shades of orange and grey as the two became engulfed in the storm, the surrounding world hazy and unrecognisable as if they had been thrust into an endless dull void. Lister could barely see Rimmer struggling along behind him, the only indication of where he was being a pale blue shine around his outline and a dim glow where the eyes should be. It was the worst time to be thinking about it, but at least Lister had proven to himself that Rimmer did actually glow. Which was not normal. He’d have to ask about it once they got inside.

—---------

As the deafening roar of sand screeched around the storage container, Lister and Rimmer sat in an awkward silence at the table inside. Lister had never seen a storm quite like it. It was predator-esque, scratching and battering desperately at the door of the container as it tried to reach its trembling prey. Lister had also never seen someone cough up so much sand as Rimmer in one sitting. As much as the man was irritating, he did hope that he was ok. That much dust in someone’s body was probably not good. He probably should have remembered to tell him to cover his face.

On the opposite side of the table, Rimmer was -not as discreetly as he would have hoped- attempting to remove the last of the muck from the inside of his mouth. His uniform was still practically immaculate though, which was incredibly weird given the situation they’d just crawled out of. Something strange was definitely going on with that odd neurotic man.

Lister wasn’t sure what to say, so he pulled out a battered old lighter and began to light a cigarette. He figured that he could offer Rimmer one and start some sort of conversation maybe. He’d not actually smoked for quite a long time, but there had been some packs left over in the workers centre from when he’d last visited so he’d picked them up for the hell of it. Just in case. The lighter had been a gift from Kochanski in the time they’d been dating; it was quite an old little thing, surprisingly well kept despite its surroundings, possibly an old Zippo that someone had carelessly tossed aside for Kochanski to find. It was one of the few things he truly treasured.

Rimmer seemed to snap into a sort of trance as Lister flicked the lighter on, gazing with curious intent at the single dancing flame, sputtering and dipping as Lister began to raise it to his cigarette. He blinked a couple of times, like you would after waking from a particularly nice dream, as the flame vanished again, a barely hidden frown of disappointment appearing on his face. Glancing at the man’s expression and then at the lighter, Lister smiled and clicked it back on.

“You’re actually permitted to have that down here?” Rimmer breathed, the orange glow of the flame wobbling clumsily in the reflection of his visor.

“Well no one’s exactly here to stop me are they.” He blinked as he realised why Rimmer was asking, “Do they not let you have it up there?”

“As per Red Dwarf Directive 523: ‘No open flames to be allowed on ship in case of wide scale fire.’” he scowled as his visor beeped in indignation, “564, sorry.”

As he continued, Lister raised an eyebrow, “Either way, I’ve only ever been told how dangerous it is and yet you’re just sat there turning it on and off like some kind of deadly lightswitch.”

Lister snorted slightly, “Deadly lightswitch? C’mon man, this much fire never killed no one”

“But-”

“I mean it could if you used it to set something bigger on fire but this much? This is fine. Trust me, I’ve uh- I’ve seen much worse.” His eyes went dark as he fell silent for a moment, seemingly recalling an old memory. He shook his head then glanced up at Rimmer, giving a small secretive smile, “Here, I'll let you have a go if you want. Won’t tell anyone.”

He winked as he turned it off and tossed it over, laughing inwardly at Rimmer's sudden shock as it skittered to a halt on the table in front of him. Strangely, his curiosity about the situation was rather endearing and now Lister even felt pretty ready to forgive him for the cargo magnet incident, despite the fact it had happened so recently. That was odd.

Fervently, Rimmer picked up the lighter, tracing his long fingers over the smooth edges of the box, feeling the subtle indent that was the join between the lid and the main section.

“You just have to flick the spark wheel.”

Rimmer held it at an arm’s length, shutting his eyes and wincing as he slowly pressed the switch. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes, somewhat embarrassed, and began to pass it back to Lister.

“The thing’s broken, it clearly doesn’t work.”

“Yeah it does, guy, you just didn’t do it fast enough. Here, look.” In an unexpected moment of proximity he reached over and held the lighter, hands half wrapped around Rimmer’s as he went to turn it on. The taller man's skin was surprisingly soft against his own calloused fingers, a welcome change to the rough world around the pair. A gentle tingling sensation spread through his bones as they sat silent together, words catching in his throat as if his own body subconsciously knew that speaking now would ruin the moment. This feeling was rather nice. He was almost expecting Rimmer to flinch away from his touch, half beginning to come up with an excuse to brush off the moment, as not to make it weird. However, he was greeted with a soft look of surprise that had spread across the other man’s face as he gazed at the flame. All roaring sounds of the outside storm seemed to melt away, becoming nothing but a welcoming quiet as they stared at the lighter together. Lister had never really noticed the beauty in how it moved, sparking and gleaming as it twinkled in the dark. He could see now why Rimmer was so transfixed. His gaze subconsciously shifted from the fire in their hands to Rimmer's face, the warm glow softening his angular features that were unhidden by the visor. Lister felt his face go slightly pink, he’d never noticed before -how could he have had the chance-, but Rimmer was gorgeous.

But the moment was over all too soon, in reality it had only been a few seconds at best. Rimmer seemed to have noticed Lister staring and snatched his hand away quickly, the fire fizzling out as the lighter fell to the table with a small clatter. The tender look of awe and fascination from but a moment ago had vanished, replaced by what appeared to be a forced look of shame and discomfort.

“I-” He cleared his throat, “Well it’s good to know that it works. It's just fire at the end of the day isn't it, not something I particularly care for really. Besides, I’ve seen plenty of pictures of it before, I don’t know what makes this any different.”

Lister snapped his gaze to the tabletop where the lighter lay dejected and half open, the howls of the wind outside flooding back into his mind. He stuffed his unlit cigarette back into the pack, casting an awkward sideways glance around the room. If it were under circumstances of that morning, he would have made a jab at the man for his blatant hypocrisy but something was different here. It wasn’t just Rimmer who’d experienced something new.

He’d had similar feelings when it came to Kochanski, he was sure of it, but never had they felt so strong and different as they had just then with Rimmer.

With Rimmer.

Rimmer.

God was he really? Rimmer? Some random guy who turned up a week ago with his stupid impeccable uniform and stupid egg shaped bag? Was he really that desperate for human affection? Smegging hell.

He looked around again as he tried to come up with something else to say, eyes widening in panic as he realised that the corner where his compactor would usually sit was empty. He’d left it outside.

“Oh smeg.”

“What?”

Lister dashed over to the corner, nearly knocking over Rimmer’s backpack which was balanced with immaculate precision against the wall.

“My compactor, I left it in the storm.”

“So? That thing looked sturdy enough, just go and get it when the weather calms down.”

“No you don’t understand, I’ve left that thing in far too many storms, the mechanism could only take one more. It was practically full of sand already. God,” he groaned, turning and slowly banging his head against the wall in exhasperation. “I’m gonna have to go and get a new one.”

“Why don’t you then? Can’t be that difficult.”

“Because it means I’ve gotta go to the workers centre, and I hate going there.”

“What's so awful about this building that it's stopping you from having the necessary equipment to complete your job?”

“I-” Lister paused, he didn’t think he wanted to tell Rimmer why. “What can I say, I'm a lazy smegger.” He diverted, desperately hoping that Rimmer wouldn't notice.

The taller man sighed irritably, “Wow what a shock.”

“Hey, I just realised that I haven't given you the full tour of the place yet.”

He missed that moment of silence already, the look of pure curiosity and transfixion, the warm tingling sensation and the way Rimmer’s hand’s felt in his-

“Indeed you haven’t miladdo. I would say that it’s bad manners but what can you expect from someone who lives on trash.”

“Hey-”

“I’m simply stating the facts already presented.” Rimmer smiled loftily, “Anyway, the tour?”

“God you’re annoying.”

Lister came and stood beside Rimmer in the centre of the room as he began to point things out.

“The door’s over there, the bathroom’s there, I sleep there, I get food from there and I’m supposed to eat here” He patted the table, “but usually I eat over there.” he grinned, gesturing at the stained beanbag and crackling television.

“But what’s this though?” Rimmer had turned around and was staring with a disgusted awe at the ceiling high shelving system taking up most of the left wall. It was overflowing with Lister’s various discoveries and treasures: his film collection, old guitar, and various collections of seemingly random objects, all filed away -surprisingly well- into their own respective compartments.

“Oh that, yeah. It’s where I keep my things.”

Rimmer raised an eyebrow, “Do your things include that pile of plastic sporks? Seems a bit worthless to save those.”

“Rimmer, how could you say something like that?” Lister reverently picked up his most intact amalgamation of plastic. “The spork is the pinnacle of human invention, the ultimate eating utensil! It's a spoon and its a fork! For all your soups with large vegetables, curries with too much sauce, or generally just if you need a laugh because they're so daft looking. Trust me Rimmer, you can never go wrong with a spork.”

“Fascinating.” Rimmer said, scanning the shelf more with a sense of scandalised fascination. “It boggles my mind that you have so much random smeg and not a single book though.”

“Why would I need them?”

“Lister, there is something innately magical about literature. The way some simple pages can transport you to far off worlds far beyond your imagination. Books are actually the pinnacle of human invention.”

Lister shrugged, “I think I’m good with my sporks man, you can keep your literature- OH” he stopped, excited, “There's something I found recently that’s actually really cool which I feel like I gotta show you.” Rimmer stepped back in surprise as the shelves began to rotate, bringing forward a set of compartments that was hidden behind. “It’s so weird, I have to show you.”

“Oh good.”

“Wasn’t really sure what it was called so I named it Clive.” Lister said matter of factly, glancing over at Rimmer as he waited for the compartment to arrive at a reachable height.

“Clive? Really?” Rimmer gave a withering look as Lister nodded enthusiastically, pressing the button for the shelves to stop moving, “Of all the things you could have named a new discovery, you called it Clive?”

“Yeah?”

“That sounds like the name of everyone’s neighbour’s Dad.”

“Yeah, well the name sorta just came to me when I saw it. I don’t know why my brain works like that- ha there it is.” Lister’s eyes lit up as he picked up the boot from the compartment, Clive’s leaves beginning to droop a little. He held it up proudly to Rimmer, “This, is Clive.”

Rimmer began to laugh, “Clive? That’s obviously a plant you-”

He froze. Not ‘in the middle of a sentence’ type freezing or ‘just saw something shocking’, but a full on grind to a halt. His eyes stopped, half on their way to looking to the left. His breathing was shallow, if there at all, and his hands had dropped limply to his side. Lister blinked slowly and waved his free hand in front of Rimmer’s face.

“Uh-”

Then, his whole body flickered. Lister blinked again, desperately hoping that it was a trick of the light.

“Rimmer?”

There was a loud beep, seemingly emanating from nowhere as the eyes quickly began to expand. Within seconds, the whole of the glassy surface of the visor was that bright shade of blue that Rimmer’s eyes had been. What once had been a rather nice colour was now overwhelming and almost painful to look at. Lister’s voice grew shaky.

“Rimmer, man, this isn’t funny.”

“Plant life has been located.” Rimmer’s voice was unnervingly smooth, words flowing in an unnatural stream as he stood unresponsive in the middle of the room.

“Ey?” Lister was cut off as Rimmer took a forceful hold of Clive, movements uncannily streamlined.
“Let go of the plant.”

“Rimmer I’m warning you-”

“Let go of the plant.”

“What’re you gonna do with it?”

“Let go of the plant.” Rimmer’s tone became more commanding as his grip tightened, pulling Clive with a harsh tug until it was fully in his grasp. Lister desperately grabbed at his uniform in an attempt to stop him as Rimmer began to make his way to the metal backpack, fingers scrabbling at the painfully smooth fabric of his jacket.

“Give it back!” Lister yelled.

“This plant is now property of the Red Dwarf.” Rimmer placed a firm hand in the middle of Lister's chest, sending him flying to the far side of the room with a surprising amount of force, before continuing toward the backpack.

“What have you done with Rimmer?!”

“This plant is now property of the Red Dwarf.”

“Don’t you dare put it in that thing!” Lister picked himself up from the floor and darted over, ramming all his body weight into Rimmer’s shoulder in a hopeless attempt to snap him out of it. Rimmer stopped at the sudden pressure, apparently oblivious to the pain his arm should have been in, as his visor flickered back to its regular state for a split second.

“Lister? What are you-” The visor sparked back, “This plant is now property of the Red Dwarf.”

Lister stared on, dejected. Maybe he could get him to snap out of it again? But he didn’t want to hurt Rimmer by pushing him more.

He watched as Rimmer placed Clive into a compartment that had slid open on the bag, the door to it clicking shut with a seamless join. A bright logo blinked lazily on the front, a drawing -of what must have been a plant- surrounded with a thick green outline.

“Rimmer please-”

“Thank you for cooperating with us.”

Rimmer flickered again as Lister pressed his hands onto both of his shoulders.

“Rimmer?”

He cautiously reached up and began to remove the visor, hoping that it would snap him out of whatever awful trance he’d gone into. Lister didn’t get the chance, however, as the man began to fade at the edges, all signs of him being there receding into a small diamond shaped piece of machinery located roughly where his heart should have been.

He gazed on as the lightbee was pulled by some sort of tractor beam into the bag, embedding itself in the black oval at the top.

Lister's face fell even more. Rimmer was a hologram. Not human at all.

That would explain the glowing, the fizzing sensation when he touched him, the way that Rimmer’s uniform never seemed to get too dirty and how he never seemed to eat a thing.

Lister crumpled as he fell to the floor, bitter tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He cursed himself over and over for almost caring about the man, why had he even cared in the first place? It wasn’t as if Rimmer was the easiest guy to get on with. But god… It had been so obvious, all the information was there. How had he not noticed?

What had he done to deserve this? He’d only ever tried to help the world, and this was how it repaid him. By making the one person Lister had ever spoken to in the last 4 years disappear. Dangle the mere possibility of friendship right in front of him and then rip it away. He’d been tricked.

The universe really did have a sick sense of humour.

Chapter Text

“Please step away from the pod. A shuttle will arrive to collect it shortly. Thank you for cooperating with us.”

The message was in the same uncanny tone that had replaced Rimmer’s previously, an eerie smoothness that shouldn’t have been possible with the human voice. Lister prodded the backpack experimentally for what seemed like the hundredth time, barely even touching the thing as the voice rang out again.

“Please step away from the pod. A shuttle will arrive to collect it shortly. Thank you for cooperating with us.”

He let out a dissatisfied groan, dropping his head against the table with a dismal thud as the backpack began to replay the message. The logo flashed red momentarily as the audio played, switching with a beep back to its nonchalant blink of green against white. Lister wasn’t sure exactly how many times he’d heard that message, but he hated it. He hated the flashing green symbol on the front of the pod, he hated the awful fluid voice of it and he hated that it had taken Rimmer. He tried to bury his skull further into the rickety surface of the table, exasperatedly turning his gaze to the side as his head -inevitably- didn’t fall through. He was met by the metal gleam of the lighter that lay, forgotten, beside him. It was taunting him. He scowled bitterly and began to swipe it onto the floor, the action interrupted by his hand accidentally hitting the pod again.

“Please step away from the-.”

“Oh be quiet.” he replied, voice weak.

He hadn’t slept. He couldn’t even tell how long it had been since Rimmer vanished inside this contraption. It felt like days, or maybe minutes? He just didn’t know anymore. All he knew was that the storm was still screaming around outside, rattling angrily at the vents as if the world itself had a personal vendetta against him. It was enraged at him for making such an awful decision in showing Rimmer Clive -the plant, he corrected-, and mournful for him in place of his own emotions. The universe had given him the opportunity for company again and he only went and immediately smegged it up. But how could he have known?
Lister had tried everything to extract the light bee from the pod; scrabbling at the hatch opening proved unsuccessful, chiselling it out with a knife was useless and hitting it with a hammer had dislodged it momentarily before the mechanism caught on and reattached the bee with more force than before. Once all the reasonable options failed, he resorted to the fastest progression ever of almost all five stages of grief.

Denial. He tried every method he could think of in order to ‘wake up’, however pinching himself, blinking rapidly and simply telling himself to wake up seemingly had no effect.

Anger. He yelled desperately at the pod, hitting it with the hammer a few more times for good measure.

Bargaining. He pleaded with it for hours, barely acknowledging the little effect it had.

Depression. Eventually, he gave up and began crying again.

He’d not really gotten to the fifth stage.

He was alone again. That was that.

And so there he sat at the table, wrapped in thin tear stained blankets, repeatedly trying any method he thought would work on the pod which sat in front of him. He wasn’t doing it for Rimmer -or so he told himself-, he was doing it for the sheer necessity of a companion. He needed company, and it agonised him that it was so close and yet so far.
His head accidentally nudged the pod as he lifted it, prompting the usual message.

“Please step away from the pod. A shuttle will arrive to collect it shortly. Thank you for cooperating with us.”

“God’s sake, shut up.”

The pod just beeped haughtily in response. It was odd, Lister wasn’t sure if he was being delusional or not but it weirdly felt as if it were talking.
It beeped again, as if to say “Wow this is pathetic.”

“Oh yeah? Go on, let's see you in this situation then you smug git.” Lister smiled weakly, as if he’d proven some sort of point, when the pod remained silent. “That’s what I thought.”

The pod didn’t respond. It would never respond. It was an oversized metal egg that had taken Rimmer. It wasn’t going to respond. Ever.

It was better company than nothing though.

Lister was pretty sure the emotional whiplash of the incident had finally sent him insane. It was almost as bad as the workers' centre incident.

On second thought, nothing could be as bad as that. But this was close.

The ‘better company’ thought had given him an idea though.

He sat for a moment, head in his hands as he thought. Was he really going to befriend a metal backpack? It didn’t need an answer though, it was coming from the guy who started talking to cockroaches for company. Within a matter of minutes however, he’d gently wrapped his own blanket around the pod, wanting to be sure it was safe from damage. His plan was to take it to his film watching spot and gently lower it to the floor next to his beanbag. The key word was gently, of which did not happen. A loud thud echoed around the room as it clattered across the metal ground, followed by an irritated sounding crackle.

“Step- pod. Shuttle- rrive- collect- short. Th- for- co- perating- us.”

Now it was somewhat secure next to the beanbag, Lister flicked on the television. It may be a weird, person stealing -hologram stealing, he reminded himself- pod thing, but it was technically someone to talk to and now nothing was gonna stop him from forcing it to watch a film with him. It wasn’t as if there was much else to do with the storm raging around outside like it was.

“I don’t really know what films you like but I reckon you’ll enjoy this one. I know I do.” Lister called from the shelf, “It’s called It's a Wonderful Life, ever heard of it?”
From the other side of the room, the pod beeped feebly.

“Ok, if you don’t want that I’ve got Rush Hour?”

Another beep.

“I mean, I’ve got some film about Napoleon I’ve never opened, but you don’t wanna watch that, do you?”

There was another beep, but this time it sounded different. Maybe he was imagining it, but this time it was too quick, almost eager in a way. Maybe Rimmer was still in there somewhere.
Lister laughed in surprise, not only at the fact that the pod might have actually responded, but also because of course Rimmer was the sort of person who’d love strategic commander biography films.

“Come on, Napoleon? Really? Not anything else more interesting here you’d like to watch instead?”

An indignant beep sounded from behind him.

“I hate to say it, but the Princess Diaries even?”

The beep sounded more insistent this time.

“Ok- ok fine, have it your way.”

Lister was pretty sure he heard a small satisfied beep emanate from behind him as he reluctantly placed the disc into the player, casting a mild look of confusion towards the contraption. A thought struck him as he finally sat down, after whoever knows how many hours, he’d finally reached the acceptance stage. Sort of. Admittedly, he was talking to an inanimate object and had begun to characterise the thing in Rimmer’s image -which was almost certainly not healthy- but at least he’d vaguely accepted that he’d be alone forever again.

It was probably not normal that he’d gotten so attached to some guy he’d spoken to three times.

-------------

A dramatic swell of credits music jolted Lister awake from his nap, prompting to look around in half hearted panic as he tried to figure out where he was. He had curled up in a strangely comfortable position on the beanbag, stolen blanket half wrapped around him in a cosy bundle. One arm was now slung around the person next to him in a sleepy attempt at a hug, slightly numb from the way he’d been leaning on it. He glanced up blearily, soothed by the quiet rise and fall of the person’s chest beside him. The world felt warm and sluggish as he nestled further into the hug, feeling their gentle gaze on him as the pair sat together. Smiling affectionately up at them, he moved to get a proper look at their face, sleepily drinking in the sight of their dark tousled hair and striking blue eyes. But he couldn’t focus, maybe he was too tired or still needed to clear the grit from his eyes, their face almost seemed to shift in appearance; one minute there would be a clear pinball smile, and the next it seemed as if a dark shroud had covered the top part of their face. The uniform seemed to change too, shifting from a dusty orange to a clear white. He knew without a doubt that this person was Kochanski, but then she shifted -as dreams do- to a face that was all too recent in his mind.

Dark hair, striking blue eyes -too striking if anything, too pixelated as well- and white uniform. It was Rimmer. He blinked and sat up in surprise, opened his mouth to say something, anything, but unannounced flames had started blazing angrily at the walls and furniture, a thick fierce smoke had begun to build, choking his voice and lungs, obscuring his vision as he saw Rimmer’s visor go blue and begin to fade, he was alone, the room was too warm and the flames had started to reach him, the smoke obstructing his breath, clawing into his lungs like an enraged beast. He was outside now, watching the fire engulf his home, how could he let this happen, how could he stand by and do nothing, it was all his fault and-

------------

Lister gasped desperately for air as he properly awoke, the room still dark and cold as ever, with no one in sight. The film was about halfway through by the looks of things, but still looked dull as ever as a man -who he assumed to be Napoleon- yelled commands on the screen. He looked to his side, almost reassured by the sight of the smooth white pod, logo blinking away calmly as ever. He smiled weakly as it beeped again, in what his mind assumed was a concerned tone.

“Nodded off there, sorry man.”

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to watch the rest of the film, a quiet twisting sensation in his stomach warning him away from falling asleep again. Lister stood up shakily, suddenly aware of the intense growling of his stomach.
“Back in a sec.”

Frowning to himself, he made his way towards the shelves and began to hunt for something to eat. It was odd that he was talking to a metal object as if it were a person. Wasn’t it? Technically, if he thought about it hard enough, it might as well be a person given the fact Rimmer was inside it. Maybe he wasn’t imagining the conversational beeps, and Rimmer was actually trying to communicate? That wouldn’t make sense though, surely. Why would the mechanism even allow that? Either way, this was better than nothing.

------------

Lister smiled grimly as he approached the dilapidated old building that was the workers centre, its semi charred remains seeming uncomfortably welcoming in the bright morning sunshine. The storm had strangely calmed from a ferocious roar back to a quiet breeze overnight which meant that Lister had to get back to work. There wasn’t really much else to do anyway.

He stretched achingly, gratefully feeling the tension in his shoulders relax slightly. Unsurprisingly, he had not slept well; the fact that he’d gone to sleep so late -paired with the anxious, fitful nightmares he was having- would make it pretty difficult for anyone to feel ‘bright and chipper’ the next morning, and Lister was no exception. In fact, the ‘bright morning sun’ that illuminated the building in front of him was more of a warm midafternoon glow due to how late he’d gotten up. Either way, he needed something to take his thoughts off the nightmares and work was the most mind numbing thing he could think of.

That did pose a few problems.

One, as he’d predicted, the compactor he’d left by the boats was very much broken and full of grime. It’s mechanism dying with a pathetic, drawn out whine as he experimentally pressed the on switch.

Two, he would have to leave the pod at home, which was an oddly worrying thought. What if Rimmer came back while he was gone and ran off? The idiot would get himself hurt or killed - if that was even possible for a hologram.

Next on the list was the solutions to said problems.

One, he had to get a new compactor, something that sounded -and should have been- easy enough for Lister to do. It did mean, however, that he would have to enter the workers centre. It was simple, get to the stores in the basement, grab some supplies and get out. And it would also mean passing the rows of malfunctioned stasis booths, filled with the half thawed remnants of other WALL-E’s, blistered faces stretched in frozen screams of a semi awake terror. It would mean dodging the ever precarious pitfalls and spikes that the building had morphed its walls and floors into. And having to see the body by the exit, scorched beyond belief, the features marred and warped away from any level of recognition, but still he knew who it was, choking as she desperately-

Two, he’d decided to bring the pod with him, haphazardly wrapping a string of large glasse fairy lights around it as a rope so that he could drag it around. This became much easier when he discovered that the pod had a hover function almost an hour after he left the house. It was quite strange really, the way that any light touching the pod would glow despite having no direct power. Lister had laughed fondly when he’d discovered this, patting the top of the pod as if it were the shoulder of an actual person, before realising how uncomfortably endearing he’d began to find Rimmer and this thing.

Back in the present, Lister gulped down the painful emotions that had begun to bubble to the surface as he gazed at the entrance, brave face he’d put on -for no one other than his own sanity- wavering. He tugged absentmindedly at the edges of his hat, pulling them over the tips of his ears as he mustered up a fake confrontational scowl. If he could trick himself into behaving like it was all fine then he’d think that it was all fine. Right? Either way, there was no time for this. He’d survived and they hadn’t. He was lucky to have survived. Lucky. He shouldn’t be feeling so awful that he’d gotten this second chance. He’d been to the building plenty of times before, why was this any different?

He turned and gently leant the pod against a nearby lamp post, disengaging the hover and letting it drop to the floor with a soft thud, before tightly wrapping the lights around it in order to keep the pod upright. With the pod secured, he faced the building once more, taking cautionary steps as he began to approach. Eyes searching for comfort, Lister shot one last worried glance at the pod. It did nothing to help. Its logo just blinked slowly away, the same as ever. With that, Lister inhaled sharply and opened the door. He didn’t notice the red landing marker zip past as he finally stepped in.

------------

Lister had barely reached the basement when he heard the ominous rumbling, the low tones growling through his ears. He froze, more dread seeping through his already dread seeped bones. The sound was hopelessly familiar, but where had he heard it before? Desperately, he wracked his memory for any signs of recognition. It couldn’t be a storm, it sounded too mechanical. Earthquakes were a possibility, but the signs were all wrong. And then a jolt of worry shot through him as he finally landed on the answer.

“Please step away from the pod. A shuttle will arrive to collect it shortly. Thank you for cooperating with us.”

The shuttle had arrived.

The roar of the ship in the distance had begun to die down as Lister sprinted towards the door, staring agape as he watched the pod begin to levitate. There must have been a tractor beam of sorts beginning to drag it towards the main ship, invisible to his eye but almost definitely there.
The pod wasn’t going anywhere so far, the string of light’s he’d tied around it still wrapped firmly around the lamppost. But the pod was getting higher, seemingly trying to unhook the lights by pulling them off the top of the post. He dashed towards it, leaping upwards in a desperate attempt at grabbing hold of it. At first he succeeded, surprising even himself as he now dangled hopelessly in the air. However, the added weight of a human did not seem to slow the beam and the height was beginning to get worrying. The string of lights which he was using as a ledge to hang onto the pod with were beginning to slip as well, loosening ever so slightly as they began to slide. Lister panicked, glancing for a moment at the distant ground. Now, he wished more than ever that the pod had not been a smooth egg shape.

And then there was a jolt.

And the lights fell off.

And Lister fell with them.

He hit the floor with an agonising thud, ankle twisting painfully as he landed. The pod beeped tauntingly as it began to whizz toward the shuttle, apparently having landed in its original clearing. That made things easy enough, at least he knew where it was going. Lister stood for a moment, brain too tired for any of this, before realising what that meant. The shuttle wasn’t just going to wait for him. He needed to catch it. Now.

And then he was off, legs pumping, ankle screaming. It was probably just twisted, he could walk it off. He watched as the beam took a sharp turn, veering unexpectedly to the left as it zoomed towards its origin. But this time in his race after the ship, he knew where it was. And he knew the best way to get there. The pain of his ankle didn’t lessen as he continued to pound towards the shuttle, skidding down mounds of rubbish as he ran. His satchel battered against his side as he held his hat on with one hand, the sight of the city centre where the ship would be providing a weird level of comfort as he neared it. If he couldn’t extract Rimmer from the pod, he’d just follow it until it gave him back. It had to give him back at some point. Right?

But he wasn’t doing it for Rimmer, he kept telling himself. It was the principle of the thing. He needed company. No matter who it was.

As he rounded the corner, he watched in exhaustion as the pod was pulled towards a hatch on the ship, tractor beam beginning to glow a sleek shade of blue as it approached. Lister rushed towards the ship, fully ignoring the sharp stabbing of his ankle, making a note of the access hatch on the exterior of the ship. A large built in ladder snaked its way up the side of the ship towards the door, a precarious height that twisted Lister’s stomach into several knots.

The pod finally entered the ship as Lister desperately began to climb, knuckles pale as he gripped fearfully to the smooth ladder. It was almost as if it hadn’t been created with humans in mind for climbing it, and the ascent was made all the more difficult by this fact.
Lister gulped in panic as the small hatch for the pod slid shut with a quiet thunk, the ship already beginning to hum as the engines warmed up. If he didn’t get to the access hatch soon, he’d be dead. A shiver of terror trickled down his spine, what if there was no way to get in from the outside? What if there was no handle? He froze momentarily in dread, wasting precious seconds as the ship began to shake more and more. If he climbed back down now, he would definitely survive. He’d wave goodbye to the ship and go back to his monotonous life. Forget about Rimmer. Forget about the plant. If he stayed however, there was a very high possibility that he would die. But he needed Rimmer, he needed company. Unfortunately, this was probably the best chance he’d get at it for a while.

“I REALLY REALLY HATE YOU RIMMER!” he yelled, half hysterical with panic as the ship gave a violent rumble. “THIS IS ALL YOUR SMEGGING FAULT,” The ship groaned angrily in response as he continued to climb, “WHY AM I EVEN DOING THIS!”

This was not the sort of thing he signed up for when he became a WALL-E. None of this was what he signed up for. If you had told younger him that in 700 years he’d be risking death for some fancy hologrammatic git trapped in an oversized metal egg he would have told you to get out of town. All this for some smegging plant and some smegging company.

Biting winds screamed past his ears as he finally swallowed down his doubts. He wasn’t doing it for Rimmer, he reminded himself, he was doing it for his own sanity. But then how the hell was this nonsense helping him.
He surged on up the ladder, cold tearing at his hands, violent shaking of the ship causing them to slip ever so slightly. The pain in his ankle was forgotten now. All that mattered was surviving. The access hatch was nearing now, and Lister sobbed a cry of relief as he realised that there was a handle to open it from the outside. A smooth voice began to count down.

“Please clear the area, takeoff in 5 seconds.”

Lister practically jumped up the next few steps as the shudder grew more powerful, an ominous roar beginning to build below him.

4

As he reached the final rung, he felt his foot slip, leaving him flailing by his arms as he tried to regain his footing.

3

He felt his breath becoming more and more ragged, heartbeat pounding in his ears as he felt nothing but air beneath his feet, knuckles pale with effort as they desperately hung on.

2

His boot connected with the step again, sparking a short lived moment of relief through his bones.

1

The roar of the thrusters filled his ears, stunning every other sound into silence. Harsh heat began to flood the area as the ship shuddered with a final uncontrollable jolt, propelling itself with all the grace of an airborne whale into the sky. Lister screamed as he desperately clawed at the handlebars either side of the door, hooking his arms precariously round the metal poles to stabilise himself.

“ohsmegohsmegohsmegohsmegohsmeg.”

His fingers frantically scrabbled at the latch, trying to slot it out from the smooth surface as the ship flew further into the air.

“God I’m gonna die.” he muttered bitterly under his breath.

Lister almost let go of the handlebars in frenzied exhilaration as the latch popped out with a calm click, lit with a cool blue glow from beneath. He smiled wildly as the door began to open, agonisingly slowly as it undid all the locks. From the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw a face peering at him from the small window in the door. He blinked, clearing his vision slightly, and the face was gone. The air was getting worryingly thin now. It was probably a trick of the mind.

Oddly enough, he was suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of calm as he hung onto the outside of the ship, the door seconds away from being open. Lister felt his mind go blank in a way, flashing to all of his fondest moments in life. He felt like he was flying. Technically, he was. He felt his arms begin to slip from the handles, but he didnt care, his mind fuzzy and warm, a far better feeling than the aches and pains he had before. This sensation was cosy, like he was home, enveloping every sensation. He took one final deep breath of the scarce air, allowing his eyes to slowly drift shut. He was so tired. So so tired.

He was only vaguely aware of the soft whirr of the door finally opening, the pair of hands that followed reaching through, anxiously pulling him inside. He could barely see when the door slammed shut again, and the glowing blue eyes gazed worriedly at him. He didn’t notice the cold of the sleek metal floor pressed against his cheek or the rows upon rows of empty slots just for other pods. He didn’t feel the gentle, yet hesitant, touch on his wrist to feel for pulse or the face millimetres from his to check for breathing. He was slipping too far out of consciousness to care when he absentmindedly watched the blue eyes move quietly back towards their lone pod. He couldn’t even remember if he’d heard what Rimmer softly muttered under his breath.

“At least he’s safe, the idiot.”

And then the eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, those awful manufactured eyes, flickered off. Back into the pod he went.

And Lister was left alone.

Chapter Text

Agony.

Upon waking, the only thing that Lister felt was agony.

The severe swelling of his ankle combined with a gnawing hunger, parching thirst and a pounding headache rendered him pathetic on the floor; the soft hum and distant, gentle beeping of the room around him doing nothing to dull the pain.

Blearily, he began to open his eyes, hoping to find something to take his mind off his current situation. When the usual sight of fairy lights and random objects did not greet him -instead replaced by a dark, smooth, empty room- Lister began to panic more.

He exhaled shakily, unaware that he had been holding his breath. Wherever he was, it was not home. It couldn’t be any more different.

The only thing that bore any recognition was the familiar sight of the pod, logo illuminating the sloped walls of the dark room with a weak emerald glow. Through the gloom, Lister could just about make out the shape of rows upon rows of shelves lining the walls, large slots sitting completely empty.

Wherever he was, it was ominous; and Lister did not like it at all.

In an attempt to cheer himself up, Lister forced himself to smile. He couldn’t remember where he had heard that smiling could make you feel better, but wherever he had heard it was clearly wrong. He still felt awful. But, oddly, the smile wouldn’t go away, stretching wide as he began to laugh quietly. Quickly however, it became manic, bouncing around the darkened room with a haunting echo as it went on. He laughed for too long and he laughed too hard and he almost certainly was not in the right state of mind to even begin to figure out what was going on. All he knew was that it had taken the world long enough to finally get the hint.

The idea that his brain had decided to settle itself on came as a worryingly hilarious thought. Here he was sitting in a perfect room in the dark, laughing with a frenzied grin to himself as his brain decided that the most plausible answer to his problem was that he was dead.

He had died. That was just how life went. Although technically it wasn’t life anymore really. Lister wasn’t even sure what was going on but for some odd reason, he didn’t even think to doubt that one insignificant thought.

He had just died and that was it. Right?

Now he’d be stuck in this vague spotless void for eternity apparently. It wasn’t great, but at least everything was over now. He hadn’t necessarily wanted to die, not just yet anyway, but it was the sort of thing that he wouldn’t have minded happening. But if this was death, it was very dull and unnecessarily painful.

“I’m already dead, y’ don’t have to keep making it hurt.” He mumbled to no one in particular, smile gradually fading as winced, propping himself up against a nearby wall. “Besides,” He jabbed a finger in the pod’s direction, “why the hell’s he here?”

With that movement, the automatic lights finally decided to turn on, flooding the room with a cool glow that glinted off the walls and shelves.

Lister squinted around the room in confusion, head still pounding with the headache.

“This isn’t a smegging void-” He cut himself off with his own thoughts, charging around his brain like a herd of angry tortoises. It still hurt to think, but it didn’t mean that there weren’t a lot of things to think about.

Brows furrowed, Lister glanced around again, trying to force his brain to take in even a single detail about his surroundings.

Slowly, he came to the realisation that at least he wasn’t dead.

It, oddly, wasn’t as much of a relief as he had expected it to be, and that worried him. It worried him more than the idea that he could have finally died had, and that in itself was worrying.

The first thing he noticed as his brain began to focus was the distinct absence of dust. If he were on earth, everything should have been covered in dust and grime. That was just how that planet worked. So where had it all gone?

The surface he was sat on was smooth and undamaged, the familiar whistle of wind through the grate in his roof was replaced by that gentle hum and quiet beep and the air-

He sniffed curiously. It was weird. The usual stench of pollution and rot was completely gone, an abnormal cleanliness filling his lungs as he inhaled. Cautiously he sat up more, slowly pressing himself further into the wall as he begged his brain to remember what had happened. He considered the possibility that he’d gotten blasted again as a reason for his apparent amnesia, but that wouldn’t explain being wherever he was now all of a sudden.

The chamber he sat in was small and circular, the only things on the walls being the maintenance hatch behind him, a clear circular window hatch to the left, a metal ladder leading up and down in front of him and finally the circular shelving unit with odd shaped slots running the rest of the circumference. With nothing else to take his mind off his growling stomach and aching limbs, Lister began to count.

In this room alone there were around twenty slots in total, each one as smooth and oval shaped as the next. He could only make the assumption that they were meant to carry pods like Rimmer’s from the fact that Rimmer’s own pod was safely nestled in one of these slots.

And then he remembered where he was.

Trying -and failing- to forget the pain in his ankle, Lister rushed as fast as he could to the clear hatch beside him, pressing his hands against the glass as he peered out into the inky blackness of space.

Distant stars gleamed lightyears away, forming an intricate dance of constellations swirling and dipping in a harmony so intricate only nature could create. A frozen image of movement, beautiful as the day it was created, with vibrant nebulas shining through the majestic fray. Rich hues of pink, purple, blue and gold illuminated the sky as they twisted together in the paint palette of the universe, far more extraordinary than the tiny ship hurtling onward through the stars.

Lister couldn’t help but stare in awe. From earth it was practically impossible to see the sky clearly, let alone at night, and yet, despite everything, the stars were always there. This was the sight that the people on the Red Dwarf would see everyday. And it was gorgeous. How did they get anything done when a sight like this was forever gliding through the sky around them. He wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away.

But then in a moment of slight hypocrisy, an awful realisation clawed and dragged him away from the view. Earth was nowhere to be seen. The moon was nowhere to be seen. As far as Lister was aware, there were no planets nearby at all. Exactly how far had the Red Dwarf gone in 700 years? And how long would he be trapped in this ship for?

Letting out a panicked and exasperated sigh, Lister slid down to the floor again, stomach growling angrily. He brightened up slightly when he remembered the food he had saved in his satchel, limping over to it as fast as he could. There wasn’t much, a couple of slightly soggy bags of bacon crisps, some protein bars, a few tins of various canned foods and three small bottles of water -as well as various pieces of junk he had picked up during the day-, but he would have to survive on it for as long as possible. It wasn’t as if he had much time to grab supplies before he had to chase after the pod.

Without even thinking, he began to eat. He wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious for, but it certainly was enough time to make him absolutely ravenous.

With a start, he remembered the unknown amount of time he would be stuck on this ship for. If he starved to death here, there would have been no point in him climbing onto the ship. But what had he even planned to do once he got on board? He had been doing it for the sheer necessity of company, but he hadn’t even thought about the consequences of jumping onto a space bound ship with an undefined journey. As far as he was aware, he was just heading to the Red Dwarf with no other plan going forward from there. He had definitely not thought far enough ahead.

Now that his hunger had been vaguely contented with bacon crisps and water, Lister noticed that his headache at least was beginning to go away, leaving him with only one other problem to deal with: his ankle. He wasn’t in any means a doctor, but whatever he had done to it did not look good, the joint swollen and painful. With no other ideas, he decided to try and walk it off, hissing in pain as he began to make his way to the ladder on the far wall. If he couldn’t immediately treat the pain, maybe exploring the ship would take his mind off it.

As he began to painstakingly climb up, he passed three whole floors that contained nothing but empty shelves, bringing his total of slots up to 60. He frowned uneasily, this craft was meant to carry 60 and the only person on board was Rimmer. Where were the other 59 EVE’s?

Beforehand, it had never struck Lister as odd when only one new person arrived on the planet. After all, when he didn’t know what Rimmer was doing, how on earth was he supposed to know how many of him there were supposed to be? But even after Lister had discovered that Rimmer was searching for a plant, he didn’t stop to think how odd it was that there was only one search party looking for one. He had been too focused on getting Rimmer back to think about anything else anyway.

As he began to near the top of the ship, the quiet beep from before began to get louder and louder, a steady and mechanical beat as he climbed. By now, he had almost forgotten the pain of his leg, the curious ship worrying him more than his ankle ever did. And then, just as he reached the final hatch, he froze. He had heard a voice.

“Systems all checked and secured for landing, captain.”

The voice was female, and not at all like the uncanny smooth one Lister had heard from Rimmer and the pod earlier.

“Well I say landing, but it's not really ‘landing’ at all is it? It’s more like assisted hovering, really, being held by all those mechanical arms in the docking bay-” the voice was cut off by someone Lister couldn’t quite hear, presumably on the other end of a radio. “Sorry captain. Yes, arrival on the Red Dwarf is estimated in 24 hours.”

Lister felt his heart leap at the idea of another person. Two times in as many weeks? But what did he expect? He was going to one of the cruiser ships, of course there’d be other people. She sounded quite friendly, if a bit prone to rambling, Lister wondered if she’d be able to tell him how long they’d be on the ship for.

Just as he went to open the hatch, the voice spoke again.

“Well it’s not in view yet, Frank. Still some way to go.”

There was another silence, “I still don’t think this was a great idea sending him down too-”

Silence.

If his thinking was correct, they were talking about Rimmer.

“I know that the signal said that he found one but you know him, he’s faulty.”

The silence lasted a while this time. Lister frowned slightly, what did she mean that Rimmer was faulty?

“It’s a mystery to me why he sent it, because I don’t believe that he of all people would have found a plant, but him sending that signal does mean that he is coming back with the others, which I understand was not part of your plan.”

Lister was puzzled. What ‘others’ was she on about? There was no one but Rimmer, her and Lister on this ship.

“My humble opinion, captain, is that it was cruel to send him down there too, even if he is an annoying git.”

A crackle from the radio.

“It’s not as if he could have helped much, Frank.”

Silence again.

“You say it would have been the perfect opportunity to get rid of him, but Frank that's harsh, even from you.”

As far as Lister could tell, the woman must have known the captain fairly well to refer to him by first name and this ‘plan’ that this so-called Captain Frank had made, was to send Rimmer down with other EVE’s and leave him there. Something was definitely amiss. There weren't any other EVE’s. Either Lister was going insane, or someone here was lying. And Lister couldn’t quite tell.

“Look, he may have been asking to go down to earth, but why would you actually let him?”

Static. “Yeah, yeah. Most compassionate man on ship you are.” she snarked, “I’m sorry Frank but I just don’t think this is right. It’s not his fault he’s like that.”

Lister wasn’t sure what to do. Clearly neither of the people knew he was there, and rethinking his original plan of talking to the woman, now it was probably best that he didn’t let them know. Of both of them, the lady on this end of the radio seemed considerably more friendly, so if he did get found by her, It probably wouldn’t be too bad. He just had to survive another 24 hours on this ship and then he could go find Rimmer again. He would probably know what to do.

The lady spoke again, sounding somewhat irritated.

“Fine. Either way, he’s coming back and given that the signal says that he found the plant, It’s probably best if you give him the satisfaction of a meeting. He’s come all this way.”

An annoyed crackle seemed to come from the radio.

“Thank you Captain. Holly out.”

As he heard the radio static come to a silence, the room above Lister became eerily quiet. If there was someone up there, they should be making some form of noise. Footsteps, a sigh perhaps, breathing? Absolutely no sound was coming from above except the regulated mechanical beep and a small whirring sound.

His ankle was beginning to hurt a lot more now, due to the way he had been standing on the ladder, and it was becoming far too uncomfortable to stay put. With not much else that he could do, he decided to slowly push the hatch open, making every effort to be as quiet as possible. Peeking through the gap he had created, he peered round the control room, the empty chamber seeping his mind with more confusion. With no one evidently there, he pushed the hatch all the way, climbing through the gap with some discomfort.

The only things in the circular room were a large chair at the control panel, and an odd maze of tracks running along the whole ceiling. A large window took up most of the front wall and small screens dotted around the room with a simple message displayed on them in red text: Holly Offline. Lister wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or upset that the voice had just been a computer.

Looking out through the window gave an even better view of the stars than before as they sped past, gleaming in the dark like glittering diamonds. Lister wasn’t sure he would ever get sick of that view, walking trance-like towards it as he stared. A monitor beeped as he approached, snapping him out of the rapturous state he was in and illuminating the screen with a large image of the Red Dwarf. It had barely changed since Lister had last seen it, a hulking mass of red metal and prongs floating in the sky like some great mechanical planet.

-------------

The day the final ships took off was certainly an odd one. Surging crowds of people queuing up to get their place on board flooded the streets, traffic became impossible to deal with -leaving thousands of cars abandoned in the roads-, and the piles of trash just kept on growing. Hundreds of other ships in the fleet had left already, bound for space for an indefinite amount of time while the planet was cleaned. The WALL-E’s had already begun working before this though, across the globe unfortunate groups of people worked to clear up the world for everyone else who didn’t feel the need to help. The process of the ships leaving was meant to take much, muchlonger -due to the sheer size of the population- but after a devastating storm tore and ripped at the earth in a fit of nature’s vengeance, it was safe to say that the process would be considerably shorter. The world was decidedly unfit for life, but in a moment of hypocrisy, it was decided that the WALL-E’s would stay anyway, in order to “Clean up the world while we’re away.”

Naturally, there was an uproar, many workers attempting to sneak onto the ships before they departed. It was a futile effort in the end, almost all groups left on the planet having to sit by and wave farewell to the rest of the world anyway.

Lister remembered it clearly. The roar of the thrusters deafening as the hundreds of transport shuttles took off toward their one destination, Red Dwarf -crown ship of the fleet. He wasn’t sure if he had imagined it, but he was pretty sure that he had seen from one of the windows a little girl waving. He’d waved back, keeping a forced smile on his face as if they were all just going on a little trip and would be back soon.

That evening, as they all watched the massive ship slip away from view, he had squeezed Kochanski’s hand anxiously; the large red blemish in the ruined sky of their planet gradually fading from sight, with everyone else on board.

Petersen had made some morbid joke that went along the lines of “Wouldn’t it be funny if they never came back”. No one laughed. If Lister could remember correctly, it had earned Petersen some pretty dirty looks and almost a black eye. It wasn’t his fault, he’d gotten himself blasted out of his mind that morning to help calm himself down. He was just as worried as every other WALL-E on that hill, watching with a sense of macabre finality as they were all left to rot alone on the planet. Once the very last signs of humanity vanished from the sky, they’d all been shuffled off into stasis, waiting for their turn to slog it out in their broken wreck of a home. Lister had felt sick to his stomach. He wasn’t sure why he had ever taken the job in the first place.

It had started as a part timer with school so that he could earn some money, before they found out that the world would be leaving them behind. Then it had become a full time job due to there being nothing else going. Then there had been a somewhat dodgy looking contract which he hadn’t bothered to read through properly. God how he wished that he had read that fine print. And finally came the proper news that they would be staying and that there was nothing they could do to get out of it.

“You’ve all signed a contract, you all knew what you were getting into.”

------------

Wanting not to be reminded too much of the others and his time on earth, Lister began to climb back down the ladder toward the original chamber he had woken up in, sighing in exasperation as he made his way down. Without him realising, the pain in his ankle had majorly subsided, making the descent considerably easier.

And then the ship took the perfect opportunity to have a violent spasm.

Lister slipped and fell, flailing desperately in the air for a few seconds, before landing with a sickly thud on his ankle again. He hissed in agony as fresh sparks of pain rushed through his body from the worsened injury. Letting his head drop sullenly to the floor, Lister just lay there, regretting every decision he had ever made. Beside him, the pod - which he happened to have landed next to- beeped smarmily. Lister turned his haphazard gaze toward it as he lay in misery on the floor, scowling in annoyance.

“I-” he winced again, “really, really hate you Rimmer.”

And then promptly, Lister passed out.

-----------

Unsurprisingly, it was the rumble of the ship as it landed in the docking bay that woke Lister again. Weirdly, the first thing he thought was what he had overheard the computer Holly saying earlier.

“It’s not really landing, it's assisted floating.”

Or something along those lines anyway.

The next thing he realised was the blinding white light in front of his face, twisting and morphing as it altered its shape. Lister shot backwards in surprise, allowing the light enough space to materialise. He didn’t want to be caught in the projection once it turned hardlight. Holograms may have been fairly new technology when Lister had gone into stasis, but it didn’t mean he was completely clueless around them.

It was kind of interesting watching the light squash and stretch around the light bee as it hummed, forming the vague Rimmer-ish shape that Lister recognised. He felt his mouth go dry, Rimmer really was coming back. Once his form had been created, it began to shade in the colour, sleek white boots, black hems on the uniform, dark hair, a new green circular patch that bore the same logo as the pod and-

Lister blinked in surprise, the visor was missing. It wasn’t part of Rimmer’s main projection. But he had barely any time to register the face underneath before Rimmer quickly brought his hands up to cover it. The action was swift and instinctive, as if it was what happened every time, but nonetheless Lister still managed to catch a small glimpse. A fairly large ‘H’ seemed to be imprinted on his forehead, which had previously been hidden, as well as a half finished glow of light emanating from under his hands. Lister was suddenly aware of a sheepish feeling of intrusion as Rimmer turned to fiddle with the pod behind him. He wasn’t even sure if Rimmer knew he was there, and abruptly he was filled with a dangerous worry that he had done the wrong thing in coming.

As he began to turn to the ladder in order to escape notice -wincing at his ankle again-, Rimmer turned around, the usual visor back in place again as the eyes pixelated into focus. Rimmer squinted- like someone who had lost their glasses- as his eyes finally stopped loading, immediately turning to look at Lister.

Lister felt his mouth go dry with panic as he froze in place, smiling awkwardly as he tried to come up with an excuse.

“Lister?? Just what the hell are you doing here?” he hissed in a weirdly unconvincing tone of confusion.

“I-”

“On second thought, just how are you here?”

Lister laughed nervously as the hologram approached, he wasn’t actually sure how he had gotten inside the ship. He couldn’t remember for the life of him. “Well-”

“Actually, I don’t think I even want to know. You're probably not even going to tell me anyway.”

“That's rich coming from the person who didn’t even tell me that you were a hologram.”

“It wasn’t necessary information!”

“I dunno, it felt pretty necessary!”

Rimmer sniffed haughtily, “Why would you even care if I was a hologram or not?”

“I-” Lister was kind of stuck on that one, he couldn’t just start spewing about his desperate need for human companionship and touch, the smegging desperate need that had given him so much distress when he had realised that Rimmer wasn’t technically real. “I just like to know exactly what I’m talking to.”

“Sure.”

“Speaking of that actually, the jig’s up with you searching for a plant -which you smegging stole from me by the way. You can tell me what EVE stands for now.”

Rimmer raised a smug eyebrow, “It’s classified millado, I can’t just go about telling everyone can I?”

“Smeg’s sake Rimmer, what is it?”

Rimmer leaned in conspiratorially, “You’ll never find out squire.”

“You are such a git, has anyone ever told you that?”

Rimmer snorted, before changing the topic. “Either way, it’s probably best if you go hide for the time being. Don’t want people discovering that there’s been a stowaway. You’re lucky I’m not reporting you this instant.”

Lister gave an exaggerated glare as he picked up his satchel, turning to the ladder to go find a hiding place. “What am I supposed to do then?”

“You can run along and do what you want after that. Smeg if I care.”

Lister felt kind of hurt by that statement, “So I won’t see you again then?”

“If I can help it.”

“Ouch." Lister joked, trying to convince himself how much it definitely didn't sting, "How am I even supposed to know what to do? S’ not like I can go round asking what’s going on, it's suspicious!”

“You said you would kill to live on one of these ships, you’re on one, and you still complain! There’s just no pleasing some people, is there.”

“Rimmer-”

“You’ll figure it out.”

A loud whirring echoed through the ship as the main door opened on the floor below them, followed by a metallic set of footsteps echoing toward the base of the ladder.

“Go on, hide. They’re coming!”

As Lister neared the top of the ladder, Rimmer called out his name.

“Lister! One more thing.” he whispered, careful not to be too loud that the people below might hear, “Thank you.”

“Ey?” Lister hissed, peering down from the porthole above, locs dangling loosely through the gap.

“For the plant… Thank you.” And then he smiled slightly. A momentary flash of genuine warmth and affection, seeping across his face. Small, fleeting, but there nonetheless. The tiny motion should have been insignificant and meaningless, but Lister couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. Despite their argument from seconds before, a warmth spread through his face as they quietly stared at each other, Rimmer absentmindedly drumming his fingers on his crossed arms as he waited for Lister to respond. Technically, Rimmer had stolen the plant, so he shouldn’t be thanking Lister for it, but that was beside the point now.

“Yeah,” Lister breathed, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be doing, “no problem man.”

A thud from the ladder on the bottom floor. The smile from before had completely disappeared, as if it had never been there, replaced with an impatient frown.

“Get out of here you idiot, stop hanging around.”

Lister was gone as quick as he could -what with the injured ankle-, to hide in the control room or something similar. If ‘they’ -whoever they were- were just coming to get Rimmer, then they hopefully wouldn’t need to check up there and he would be fine for the most part.

He still had no idea what he was doing.

As he listened to the door of the ship close, he couldn’t help but think back on the last moment with Rimmer. Why was he finding himself warm faced and smiling uncontrollably at the man when he was clearly such a git? He blinked slowly, there was no way, but was he-? Quickly he dismissed the thought before it could finish. That, was a stupid idea. He had just been alone for far too long.

Chapter Text

The control panels around Lister sang in a quiet chorus of mechanical beeps and hums as he waited in a silent huddle at the top of the ship, listening out for any conversations that would give him clues as to what was happening. Abruptly, the loud metallic steps -that Lister assumed belonged to the ‘they’ Rimmer had been talking about previously- came to a stop in the room below.

“Welcome back Mr Rimmer sir!” a muffled voice echoed from below, “I do hope your little adventure was good fun.”

“Little adventure?” Rimmer sounded miffed. “Kryten, this was a long neglected task, something that should have been routine maintenance. I was doing my duty as an EVE, it was not just some ‘little adventure’.”

“Of course sir. Your ‘duty’. I’m just so glad to have you back.” the other voice, who Lister decided was the one called Kryten, said. “Please don’t leave again though, you have no idea how miserable my containment cupboard is. It was simply awful having to sit half powered down in there for the past month, waiting mindlessly for you to return.” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, almost to a volume Lister couldn’t hear, “I kept hearing thuds from the thing in the vents again sir.”

Shuffling as quietly as he could along the floor, Lister moved closer to the hatch in order to get a better vantage point on the conversation.

Rimmer scoffed, “Please Kryten, there’s nothing in the vents, it’s just your malfunction working up again. Remember last time you started hearing things? The incident that got me stuck looking after you? Have you any idea how annoying it is to constantly make sure you don’t go mental again?”

“If you don’t mind me saying so sir, I thought I was looking after you.”

“Don’t be preposterous, why would I need looking after?”

“Well sir-”

A smooth hum echoed through the room, prompting Kryten to snap his mouth quickly shut.

“Sorry to interrupt gents, but I have to tell you that you’ve been invited to a meeting with the Captain.” The voice seemed to be from the same woman he’d heard earlier, Holly, Lister reminded himself.

Interested to see what was actually going on downstairs, Lister cautiously peered through the hatch. Like this, his face was fairly obvious to anyone paying attention, there was all the more possibility that he would be seen, but Lister didn’t care. The need to know what was happening was all too great.

Through the gap he saw Rimmer, standing exactly where he’d been before, with a tall, mechanical looking man beside him. Kryten wore a uniform similar to Rimmer’s, an odd jacket made of that shiny white material and a pair of black trousers with a single yellow stripe down the sides. From his angular, silicone face, two luminous eyes gleamed in the same shade of yellow as the highlights on his outfit. A small, circular patch on his arm read M-O with the word ‘Kryten’ written in blocky letters below it. Aside from the mechanoid’s geometric head, it would have been easy to mistake him for an actual human at first glance.

On the wall opposite, a small screen which Lister hadn’t noticed before glowed a deep, electronic blue. In the centre was a woman’s face, her long blonde hair pulled back into a neat bun, leaving a few flyaway strands resting on her forehead. Lister was somewhat taken aback, he hadn’t expected Holly to actually look like anything.

“The captain actually wants to see me?” Rimmer blurted out, beaming a wide smile before sheepishly clearing his throat, setting his mouth in a firm line. “The captain wants to see me, does he?” he repeated, slower and with an air of fake aloofness.

“Well you found the plant didn’t you?”

“I-”

“Now, if you could step back into the pod then we can take you to the captain.” Holly instructed from the screen, nodding in the vague direction of the abandoned egg-bag in the corner.

Rimmer nodded obediently, voice a completely different tone to the one Lister was used to hearing. “Of course ma’am.”

He stuck his arm out, rotating his hand in a circle multiple times before bringing it sharply to his forehead in an exaggerated salute. Lister couldn’t help but smile as Holly sighed impatiently, there was no way that that was an official salute on board the ship. Guessing from Holly’s reaction, it probably wasn’t. And knowing Rimmer, he’d probably made it up too. It was insane. He performed it with such confidence, such self importance and yet he looked so stupid. Lister couldn’t help but find it strangely adorable. Rimmer really was trying his best to please his superiors.

With that, the hologram stepped towards the pod, letting his projection flicker off as his lightbee was dragged towards it. Lister closed his eyes momentarily, trying to ignore the memories of Rimmer's solid blue visor or the clear uncanny voice that the sight of the action brought back.

Kryten stared at the pod as Rimmer disappeared, blinking a few times before looking at Holly as if waiting for a command. She nodded at him ambiguously, a small hum echoing out before the screen switched to blackness.

Sighing nervously, Kryten picked up the pod, hoisting it onto his back as he cast a final glance around the room. Quickly whipping his head away from the porthole, Lister scrambled backwards in a hasty attempt not to be seen. He had no clue what was happening, but all he knew was that getting caught would probably not be a good idea.

“Hello?” he heard Kryten stammer. “Is anyone up there?”

Lister held his breath.

“I saw you.” Kryten tried again.

Silence.

Downstairs, Kryten shook his head nervously. “Did I?”

A small shuffling noise from upstairs. Kryten was sure he’d seen something. Had he? His circuitry was probably in need of a check up. That was all. His anxiety chip was probably going into overload again.

He shook his head once more. It was fine. This was all fine. He just needed to go to the captain. That was easy enough. Right?

Casting another nervous glance around the room, Kryten sighed and began to descend the ladder towards the exit of the shuttle. He was going to be late.

------------

Kryten didn’t like being told what to do.

Well, he did, but it didn’t mean that he liked being told to do things he wasn’t programmed for. He was just a simple MO mechanoid, it wasn’t his job to be looking after holograms, let alone be invited to meetings with the Captain. He was built for cleaning, not this. It was the one thing he and Mr Rimmer seemed to agree on, he remembered all the times that Mr Rimmer had ranted about his situation quite well.

“Listen you stupid jumped up bogbot, an EVE does not need looking after. Especially by some basic Microbe Obliterator droid. I mean, why would I need looking after? Me! If anyone here needs looking after, it should be me looking after you, not the other way round. You’re the one who’s broken.”

Kryten had always tried to point out that this was a mutual taking care of each other situation but Mr Rimmer never seemed to listen, going off on his spiel about being ‘too important’ all over again. Personally, Kryten had some reservations about how important Mr Rimmer probably was. All they ever seemed to do was sit around the ship, reading protocol books, visiting the repair bay and occasionally get yelled at by the captain. Not the most important activities at all, Kryten had decided. All he knew was that Mr Rimmer had been assigned to him and he had been assigned to Mr Rimmer. Whether either of them liked it or not.

-------------

With the door of the shuttle having been left wide open, Lister quietly followed the softly humming mechanoid through the hangar, taking the time to hide himself from view whenever Kryten looked around, something he seemed to do frequently.

Despite spending the last five years completely alone, the silence and emptiness of the ship was terrifying. A new, oppressive stillness, devoid of movement from the wind or chirps of the various animals that still somehow survived on Earth. The mechanical hums and buzzes of the various mismatched droids attending dutifully to the shuttle behind him providing no comfort. For a ship that was supposed to have tens of thousands of people living on it, there was an uncomfortable lack of anyone to be seen.

To take his mind off of the uncomfortable thoughts that had started to plant root in his mind, Lister took a moment to watch the robots behind him, musing on the disjointed appearance of them all. It wasn’t the perfect solution to missing human life, but it was something.

The mechanoids, although incoherent as a group, were all completely perfect individually, each being manufactured from sleek plastic-y materials and smooth metals of various block colours: whites, greys, blues and reds. They all appeared to have been made from different batches respectively, some appearing more humanoid -like Kryten- and some looking undeniably boxy and ‘robot-esque’. The ‘Krytens’ -Lister dubbed them- all appeared much older than any of the others, silicone more worn down than the other more current designs, occasional sparks flying from their circuitry. Soon enough, Lister was able to figure out how the development of these mechanoids progressed, designs starting humanoid at first and slowly advancing further and further away from its human lookalikes.

Lister shook his head, he had gotten distracted.

And that he had, Kryten now almost at the complete opposite end of the gigantic hangar, making his way absentmindedly round a corner as his humming became impossible to hear.

Lister, now discarding all caution, sprinted to the other side of the massive room, his injured ankle twinging agonisingly as he finally reached out to lean, exhausted, on the doorway. At the sound of whirring engines, he looked up, face dropping as a terrifyingly fast current of mechanoids and robots sped past him. A corridor the size of a highway stretched out indefinitely into the depths of the ship, glowing blue lines etched into the floor in lanes; hundreds of droids sped along just above, humming and flashing, all in a hurry to get to whatever job they had been assigned to.

What Lister hadn’t noticed was Kryten stood right next to him, Rimmer’s pod still attached to his back. Kryten gave him an absentminded nod before deftly stepping into a gap in the flow of traffic, suddenly lifted in a stream of magnetic force and rushed swiftly along. Glancing back however, his eyes went wide, almost threatening to pop out of his silicone skull. Lister winced as he realised he’d been discovered, ducking back into the hangar as he tried to collect his thoughts.

1) Kryten had Rimmer, and was taking him to the captain

2) Kryten knew that he was here, and probably not supposed to be

Kryten had just stepped into a flow of incredibly fast robots, taking Rimmer with him

3a) Lister was not magnetic and could not easily follow Kryten

3b) He had no clue what he was doing

Deciding that he already knew about 1 and probably wouldn’t be able to deal with 2 easily, Lister decided to focus on 3. He eyed the rush in front of him warily, keeping in mind that the longer he took trying to figure this out, the more he would have to catch up with Kryten. He needed to find Rimmer again. He needed answers.

There was only one thing for it.

Lister took a running leap and launched himself into the highway, arms flailing in desperate hopes of latching onto a droid and hitching a ride.

Eyes screwed shut, Lister felt the impact of cold metal against his hands, legs kicking wildly in empty space as he gripped with all his strength to the shocked robot. Unlike the pod, this one was a ridged brick of a droid with a considerably easier to grab surface than the unbroken smoothness of Lister’s previous grab-ee. He felt the machine buckle under the weight of carrying a whole human but still it carried on, beeping indignantly but otherwise unaffected by the addition of his body.

Sensing that it was probably safe once a few minutes had passed, Lister slowly opened his eyes, trying his best to scan around for any signs of Kryten. The hall was alive with machines whirring and clicking, an occasional screech of metal echoing out when two droids would scrape past each other. Much further down the hall, Lister managed to pick out the familiar white egg shape zooming along a track. He glanced at the line below him, head swimming as the floor was swept away in a blur. If he was guessing correctly, he and Kryten were on the same track which hopefully meant they’d end up in roughly the same place. He wasn’t sure how fast he was travelling, or how far he had gone, but before he could glance back up at Kryten, the mechanoid had disappeared; stepping expertly off the track before once again looking nervously around.

Lister groaned, the realisation of what he now needed to do dawning on him.

He needed to time this perfectly.

Sixty three seconds later, Lister hit the floor with a painful thud, tumbling sideways from his lofty position on the robot onto the rather cold, rather hard floor of the doorway.

“Smug bastard.” he muttered as he watched the robot zoom off down the corridor, beeping happily at its freedom again.

Dusting himself off, and wincing at his newfound wounds, Lister was suddenly hit with a sound he never thought he would hear again. One buried in his memory, from many many years ago.

The unmistakable babble of conversation.

Lister almost felt like crying. It had been so long.

A constant buzz of hundreds of people talking filled the room, just quiet enough that each one could hear their own discussion over the din of others. Before him, a colossal room stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction, engulfed by a monstrous blue dome seemingly made to replicate the skies of earth, the large glowing Buy ‘n Large logo replacing where the sun would have been. Tall buildings stretched upwards, almost like skyscrapers, housing all forms of entertainment and comfort. Restaurants and cafes, nurseries and schools, tiny little parks with fake grass and trees, snaking train systems held aloft by sleek white pillars as they twisted around the smooth cityscape; it had everything. Over the din of conversation, advertisements blared. Large holographic screens plastered on every surface proclaimed messages like: “Life-changing”, “Buy Today!” and “Shop at BnL Now!”

Of all the sounds however, one vital thing was missing. The sound of footsteps. Not a single person in the city seemed to be walking, save for the occasional humanoid robot. Everyone appeared to be bound to large floating chairs, suspended over the same blue lines etched into the floor that Lister had seen in the corridor previously. On another glance, the humans in the chairs never seemed to be talking to anyone nearby, instead talking or staring intently at holographic screens in front of them, clicking incessantly on the control panels embedded into the armrests. A sea of large, chair bound, barefoot, red jumpsuit clad humans thronged before Lister, all too engulfed in whatever was centimetres in front of their faces to care about whatever was happening in the ‘outside’ world.

As Lister searched the room for any signs of Kryten, a pleasant “bing bong” echoed across the room prompting a large screen bearing the words “Morning Announcement” to appear in the dome above. Slowly, a large, tired looking man appeared as the people below all came to a halt, their screens now also occupied with his presence.

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Good morning everyone, and welcome to day 255,642 aboard the Red Dwarf. As always, the weather is a sunny 23 degrees and-” He paused, apparently receiving information from something just outside of the camera, “Oh! Holly tells me that today is our 700th anniversary of our 5 year cruise.” He sighed for a moment before smiling again, “Well, I’m sure our forefathers would be proud to know that 700 years later we’d be doing the exact same thing they were doing.”

Back in the city, Lister had spotted Kryten and had begun tailing him, hoping to catch up without being noticed again.

“So! Be sure next mealtime to pick up your free” the captain appeared to struggle with the next word, as if reading it off of a screen, “Sep-tu-a-centennial cupcake in a cup. Wow, would you look at that! Also today we have-”

The announcement of the captain trailed off as Lister chased Kryten into the quieter halls of the ship, past a sign reading ‘Navigation Deck’, still trying desperately to ignore the aching of not only his ankle, but also the slowly blossoming bruises on his arm as well. Eventually, another pleasant “bong bing” echoed down the hall, probably signifying the end of announcements.

Since re-finding Kryten, the mechanoid appeared to be freezing and glitching much more, dangerous looking sparks flying off from his neck and various other joints as he walked. That was until Kryten again looked around the now silent corridors, spotted Lister, yelped, and promptly collapsed in a sparking, glitching, nervous pile of machinery.

“Smegging hell, are you alright?” Lister rushed forward, catching the mechanoid and gently lowering him to the floor. Sod not being found, he’d already been spotted and no one seemed to have done anything about it. It was probably fine. Probably.

“I wasn’t malfunctioning after all” Kryten sputtered, another shower of sparks skittering across the polished floor of the corridor. “I wasn’t seeing things.”

“Yeah, sorry about that- hey is there anything I can do about” he motioned towards the rest of Kryten’s collapsed body “all this?”

“Who are you? I’ve never seen a droid so realistic-” Kryten continued, apparently oblivious to his state of collapse.

Spotting a nearby store cupboard, Lister began to lift. “What?”

“You must have been one of the first models, I thought you all had been shut down-”

Lister paused in his new process of dragging the heavy body of Kryten towards the cupboard, looking down in confusion. “No?”

“I’ve been hearing you in the vents for so long, I just knew I wasn’t imagining things.”

“Listen guy, you’re really broken. Some sort of circuit must have completely blown.”

“Why have you only just shown yourself? Why have you been following me?” Kryten gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh no, you didn’t see me…” he trailed off, eyes flitting about anxiously. He looked back up again, “did you?”

Finally leaning Kryten against the wall in the cupboard, Lister frowned “See you do what?” He scanned the room, “Now, is there a screwdriver in here I can use or something?”

“Oh spin my nipple nuts and send me to Alaska-”

“Ey?”

“- I’m going to get dismantled aren’t I-” A whirlwind of sparks began to scatter everywhere, the mechanoid freezing and juddering more than ever. “I- I- I- I-”

His eyes went dark, and all was silent.

Lister spun around from his futile search for repair tools, alarmed at the sudden quietness that filled the small room.

“Uh, Kryten?” He gave the mechanoid’s leg a small kick, “You alright man?”

Without any clue on how to repair the anxious droid, Lister sighed. He hadn’t meant to do whatever this was to Kryten, the mechanoid probably had one too many screws loose and Lister just loosened the last one.

But Kryten’s glitching ramblings had given him an idea. Who was stopping him from pretending to be a mechanoid? It would probably be a better disguise than whatever he was doing now. If he could just take Kryten’s place in delivering Rimmer to the captain, then he’d surely get all the answers. It was just a shame he’d have to leave Kryten broken here for the time being. Maybe he could find somewhere for him to get fixed, it felt wrong to just abandon him.

------------
5 minutes later, Lister found himself thumping along the hall and doing his best impression of Kryten, the pod on his back, as he followed all the signs towards the captain's office. The closer and closer he got to the bridge, the quieter it became, the absence of even robots settling like a thick, uncomfortable blanket in the air. To try and disguise himself more, he had pulled on his gloves, sand mask and goggles, trying not to be reminded of all the times Krissie joked that they all looked like a group of maintenance droids. He sighed. Despite being on a ship full to the brim of people, he still felt so alone.

------------
The door to the office slid smoothly open revealing a large circular room, control panels beeping and flashing on all sides. To the left was a large glass window, opening onto a penthouse view of the city Lister had been in just twenty minutes ago, a dizzying height to fall. To the other side however, a spectacular view of stars and nebulae spilled across the sky, providing a way for the gigantic ship as it continued onwards through space.

An irritated cough echoed across the room. Lister blinked away from the view, turning his head until he finally was face to face with the man from the screen earlier. Captain Hollister.

The smile from earlier was replaced with an exhausted frown as he sat confidently in his hover-chair, arms folded across his lap. Lister wasn’t sure if he should salute or not, eventually deciding a simple wave was probably good enough.

An annoyed sigh.

Probably not then.

The two stared at each other uncomfortably for a moment, Lister desperately hoping that his disguise actually worked.

“Where’s Kryten?” The captain groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between two short fingers. Before Lister could answer, he raised a hand to silence him, “Don’t tell me. Malfunctioned again?”

“Yeah.” Lister nodded casually. Hollister’s gaze shot up irritably. Underneath his goggles, Lister raised an eyebrow, confused. What had he done?

“And so you are?”

Lister floundered, he hadn’t planned this far ahead, “I’m- uh. I’m Wally.” He choked. “A L1-STR droid?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, the captain slowly motioned for the pod to be brought to his chair, clearing his throat testily when Lister -who had zoned out while trying to figure out what the hell L1-STR would even stand for- didn’t move.

“Right, let's get him out of there.” He motioned to the pod, “More than likely it’s nothing, especially knowing him. Of all the EVE’s on that mission, of course it was the faulty one that got them to all come back.”

Lister frowned, he knew it was definitely not nothing. Not when he’d sprinted what felt like the length of 1000 Zero-G pitches to chase after it. Absolutely not for anything else. He also knew that there were undeniably no other EVE’s on that ship. The captain’s constant mentions of the ‘other EVE’s’ was really beginning to bug Lister. Who the smeg was he talking about?

And then it hit him that he still had no clue whatsoever how to get Rimmer out of the pod. That was also something he knew for sure. He stared at it for a moment, preparing for the inevitable kicking out of an airlock he would get once the captain realised that he was not a droid. However, before he could bend down to try and make some sort of an attempt to release Rimmer, Hollister had already muttered something along the lines of “Have to do everything on this ship myself” and pressed a button on a nearby console, prompting Rimmer’s lightbee to emerge from the pod.

Jumping back from the glowing machinery in surprise, Lister gazed on as the lightbee began its usual process of slowly generating Rimmer’s form. Once again hit with that same feeling of intrusion when Rimmer again raised his hand to cover his face, Lister turned away slightly, catching a glimpse of Rimmer’s other hand reaching for his visor in the pod. Lister made a mental note to ask him what was going on with the visor the next time they were alone.

The captain frowned as Rimmer finished preparing, his frown deepening as he watched the hologram perform his usual ridiculous salute. Lister stared on, enthralled by the nonsensical feeling of importance Rimmer carried in this one action.

“Good morning Rimmer.” Hollister began to drum his fingers on the armrests of his hover chair. “I was notified that you located a plant, is this true?”

Rimmer smiled proudly, “Yes sir.”

In the corner, Lister had a small, unimportant revelation. That’s why Hollister had given him such an annoyed look earlier. He’d forgotten the honorifics.

“May I see this plant Rimmer?”

“Of course sir. It’s just in here sir.” He turned again to grab the pod, coming face to face with Lister as he did so. Rimmer froze. Blue pixels took up most of the visor due to how wide his eyes were. He opened his mouth to say something, before realising what company he was in and then slamming it shut. His eyes flicked between Lister, the door and the pod as if to say:

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?! I thought you were running along now that you were on the ship, why the smeg have you followed me?!”

Lister shrugged half heartedly, he wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

Behind them, and completely unaware of what was happening, Captain Hollister cleared his throat, again.

“Rimmer, if we could see the plant sometime today.”

Rimmer jumped slightly, spinning on his heel, pod in his hands, to face the captain.

“If you’d like to look in here sir?”

The captain took the pod warily, brushing off an invisible layer of dust before reaching for the button to open it.

In front of him, Lister and Rimmer were aggressively gesturing at each other in conversation, trying to figure out -or explain- what the hell was going on.

Ten seconds later, the captain let out an unsurprised tut.

“Rimmer,” he sighed, unimpressed. “where is it?”

Rimmer turned back to face him, smiling confidently, voice lilted in a hopeful tone. “Where’s what, sir?”

“The plant, Rimmer, where is it?”

“I think that you’ll find it’s in there, sir.”

Hollister glared at him, eyebrow raised irritably, mouth curved into a deadpan sneer; a practised expression that had clearly been used many times before. He spun the pod round to face Rimmer. “Where.”

The hollow where the plant once sat was completely empty, sparkling clean as if never having seen the outside world. Lister had to stop himself from jumping forward to check every corner of the tiny pod. Where was Clive?

Rimmer’s face dropped.

“Oh smeg.”

Lister could barely watch as the hologram began to flounder desperately in the middle of the room. Both men knew it was in there, they’d both seen it go into the pod, so where the hell was it?

“Its- um” he panicked, all the colour rapidly draining from his face, “Sir, I swear It was right there.”

The captain motioned drearily at Lister, nodding in the vague direction of the agitated hologram.

“Wally, if you could accompany him to the repair bay for a check up after this please.”

Lister nodded uncertainly, unsure on whether that meant now or later.

Eyes flickering upwards, Rimmer froze. “The repair bay?”

“Rimmer, this was why we were reluctant to send you on that mission.”

“Sir please-” Rimmer glanced quickly back at Lister, eyes darkening in some realisation that Lister did not feel entirely positive in finding out about.

“You’ve sent us a fake signal-”

“I swear I had it sir-”

“-whether it was intentional or not-”

“Captain, If I could just explain-”

“-therefore hindering our goal.” Hollister finally finished, an exasperated look of irritation plain on his face.

“Would it make any difference, sir, If I told you that he probably took it.” Rimmer threw an accusatory glare at Lister, an angry flicker sparking across his visor. Unsure of how to respond to the accusation, Lister once again shrugged. He had just as much idea of where the plant was than anyone else in the room, and at that moment in time was desperately trying to prevent himself from making a remark back - for fear of being discovered.

He wasn’t even entirely sure what would happen if Hollister realised that he wasn’t a mechanoid. It wasn’t as if he’d just send him back to Earth for sneaking on board. Was it?

The captain sighed again, for what could have been the 100th time in the last 10 minutes, following Rimmer’s accusatory gaze to look at Lister.

“Rimmer, you of all people should know that mechanoids are supposed to follow direct orders. The order has been to bring any located plant to me. Why would Wally here take it?”

The hologram let out a frustrated splutter, looking quickly back and forth between the two as his visor continued to flicker and spark more violently.

“WHY? Because he’s-”

Lister almost considered slapping a hand over Rimmer’s mouth, was he really going to give him away like this? But then again, doing that would almost certainly get him found out too.

Rimmer paused, eyes glitching as his mind seemed to whirr. Slowly, he glanced over at Lister, flickers dragging to a stop as their eyes locked. Even from across the room, and through the goggles and visor covering their eyes, both of them knew what was at stake. Lister wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t really as if it was an ‘after all we’ve been through together’ situation, they’d only known each other for so long, and to top it off, Rimmer had been trapped in an inanimate object for most of it.

“He’s not-” Rimmer continued hesitantly, calming from his anger to a resigned frustration as he looked back at Hollister. “I-”

Eventually, he let out a shaky breath. “I’ll head to the repair-bay.”

Lister frowned curiously as he watched Rimmer do his complicated salute again, standing hesitantly in the doorway as he waited for Rimmer to follow.

The hologram swallowed nervously, “I’m sorry for wasting your time, sir.” he turned toward the door, “Come on Lis-” he stopped and corrected himself, “-Wally, let’s go.”

“Oh, Rimmer?” Hollister drawled, “I think you forgot something.” He motioned silently to the pod.

Rimmer’s hands clenched at his sides, visor flickering as he stared warily at the hunk of offending metal and machinery.

“Of course, sir.”

And with a flicker of his projection, he was gone.

Chapter Text

Beneath his sand mask disguise, Lister frowned nervously; the sleek white doors to the repair bay humming as they stood, closed, in front of him. He was fairly sure that he was in the right place, but a feeling of unease had seeped through his body that he just couldn’t shake. Every step closer he’d taken towards the bay, he was reminded of the fear Rimmer seemed to have when the Captain had mentioned it. That wary gaze, the clenched fists, the freezing in terror. It was unmistakable.

Of course, Lister had considered -and tried- just not going to the bay and then removing Rimmer from the pod himself. However, past experience proving that he had no clue how to free him, combined with his complete lack of knowledge about the ship -and therefore where to escape to- lead to a fairly disappointing resolution. On the brightside: at least the pod hadn’t told him to ‘step away’ and that ‘a shuttle would be here to collect it shortly’ the one time he had tried to mess with it. Instead it had just morbidly begun telling him that ‘Auto destruct will activate after the next failed attempt’, which prompted him to stop trying altogether.

He didn’t like to think what would happen if Rimmer got ‘auto destructed’.

So there he stood, having followed all the signs he could find, in front of the repair bay. At the end of the day, he could just wait for whatever was in here to free Rimmer and then escape with him. Simple!

The hall towards the bay was eerily quiet, the chatter of people and drone of functioning droids silenced by the sheer distance from the central zones of the ship. Lister understood why there wouldn’t be many people here, but even the slight sound of other creatures -human or robotic- would have been nice.

There was something strange though. Even though he’d spent so long waiting and hoping to meet other people again, when he’d finally seen them for the first time -hover chairs and all- he hadn’t felt nearly as happy or relieved as he had thought he’d be. Sure the mere sound of conversation had almost made him weep in joy, but he hadn’t felt truly connected to them at all. The human race had changed so much since the Red Dwarf had left, and since seeing them, Lister wasn’t sure who between the two of them was the least human.

Was it him? 700 years behind evolution? To them he was ancient history. Or at least that was what Rimmer had called him when they first met. Ancient history.

Or was it them? So far in the future that they never even walked or thought for themselves. Knowledge, instructions and announcements funnelled through their screens to them, food, service and entertainment all at a mere press of a button on their chairs. They weren’t living. Not really. Were they even aware of the destruction of their home planet? Did they even know it existed?

Lister could hardly believe that this was the same species as him. To them, he was a snapshot of their past, a primitive lifeform in comparison. Extinct. And what a grim thought that was.

An impatient beep echoed through the hall as he realised the door was now open, leaving him face to face with a spherical droid that hung inelegantly off of a rail running along the ceiling. Many multi-jointed arms stretched out from similar units along the rail behind it, weaving about as they dutifully attended to the dozens of mismatched broken droids. Small, box-like holding bays lined the walls, each one containing a robot jerking wildly or flickering dangerously as they tried to escape; a repair bot quickly arriving to settle the droid, pressing a red button on it that caused it to collapse to the floor, deactivated.

As Lister stared into the room, a tall humanoid robot hurried past him, avoiding eye contact as he bustled along. Lister didn’t get a look at his face, but by the nervous demeanour and nametag on the robot’s chest plate he could tell it was Kryten. However, just as he turned to say something -perhaps a sorry for accidentally breaking him- the repair bot beeped again, with all the impatience he was unaware a droid could have. He spun back around, and began to proceed into the busy repair bay, as to appease the continually more irritated droid.

The moment he stepped fully inside, an arm shot out and gripped the pod firmly in one claw, pulling it away from Lister’s grip. It placed a red button on the pod and pressed it, prompting Rimmer’s lightbee to begin to glow. Lister stumbled backward as the droid shooed him away, watching as the hologram’s body began to appear. Once his solid form had finished materialising, Rimmer instinctively reached for the pod to activate his visor, fumbling at the buttons as he hid his face. He flinched as his hand was slapped away from the pod by one of the droids, causing him to lower his other hand to nurse the bruise. Lister blinked in surprise as he stared at the hologram, the curiosity of what he looked like far too great.

An empty white light glowed where Rimmer’s eyes should have been, spindly slits jutting harshly across his skin between the glow and his hairline. Where the glow hadn’t spread, the remnants of what seemed to be the letter ‘H’ were visible on his forehead. No longer held back by the visor, his curls hung a little looser, framing where his eyes would have been in a strangely picturesque way. Lister tried to clear his throat, but found himself unable to, a strange feeling settling in his stomach.

The moment was fleeting however, as Rimmer quickly covered his -absence of- eyes again, body rigid as he remembered exactly where he was. His shoulders were tense and his mouth was downturned in a worried frown, Lister couldn’t entirely tell, but he almost looked like he was shaking slightly.

“Rimmer?” Lister found that he could barely raise his voice over a whisper, watching Rimmer tilt his head slightly towards his direction as he heard the familiar voice.

“Lister? What are you-”

But before Rimmer could finish his sentence, he and the pod were quickly ushered into a room at the back through a large frosted glass door. Instinctively, Lister stepped forward to follow him, but was stopped by another repair bot arm as it forced him backwards, pushing him impatiently into a waiting pen.

Lister pushed back against the arm, “Hey what d’you think you’re doing? I’m not broken-”

“In Need Of Cleaning.” the robot replied curtly, the light barrier of the edge of the pen springing into place as it pressed a button on a nearby wall panel.

“No I’m not? What’re y’ talking about?”

“Foreign Contaminant Level 100%”

“It's not my fault-”

“In Need Of Cleaning.”

“Yeah I get that man, but I’m not-”

“In Need Of Cleaning.”

Lister gave up, dropping his satchel on the floor of his containment pen as he craned his neck around to see if he could look inside the diagnostic room that Rimmer had been ushered to. Luckily, the glass of the door was just clear enough that he could make out silhouettes of what was happening, Rimmer standing nervously on a raised platform as two repair arms began to attend to him.

Lister looked around, he needed to get out somehow. He wasn’t sure what ‘robot cleaning’ looked like, but it almost certainly wouldn't be good for him for a number of reasons. And he needed to get Rimmer out of there too. He didn’t care that the hologram had almost given away his entire disguise to the Captain, he was his friend… Sort of. He wasn’t just going to leave him behind.

He scanned the room for ways he could break out, eyes glossing over the many broken droids as he did so.

“God that thing’s ugly.” A snarky voice spoke from the pen next to Lister, prompting him to whip his head round in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting to hear another human in here.

“Sorry?” Lister said incredulously, as he stared at the man. A sleek pink and magenta suit hugged his slender form as he leant casually against the barrier between their two containment pens. He gestured a lazy hand in the direction of a pink droid on the opposite side of the room.

“That! U-G-L-Y.”

In the opposite pen, a pink, multi limbed robot with the name ‘PR-T’ emblazoned on the side hovered jerkily in the air, spouting auto recorded phrases such as “You look gorgeous!” and “It suits you so well!” to no one in particular. Each of its insectoid limbs seemed to hold some instrument of beauty: mirrors, lipsticks, combs and various other things. Lister couldn’t help but think the man was right, for a droid that seemed to be for beautification purposes, it didn’t seem to be the most elegant of things.

“Yeah, you’re right. Could use some of those tools itself.” Lister grinned, turning to look back at the man as he spoke.

“Hey, don’t say that about them!”

“Ey? But you just-”

“It's a good thing they look like that. Otherwise there’d be too many me’s! And only I’m allowed to look this good.”

Lister was well and truly perplexed. There was something odd in the way the man spoke, slightly stilted, as if choosing from a database of words while he talked. And then Lister finally realised that this man had a tail. And large, pointed ears that stuck up through his black pompadour, attached to his head by barely noticeable screws and bolts. The same joining system connected various parts of his face, tail and hands too, sharp, metallic claws protruding from the end of each of his fingers.

After some deliberation, Lister finally spoke again, a slight sigh of disappointment slipping into his voice. “You’re not human are you?”

“No?” The robot seemed offended, “You must be really broken, do I look like one of those guys to you?”

“Well, no, but I thought-”

“I’m the best looking thing on board this ship, those guys can’t compete.”

“Well-”

“I’m Cosmetics And Textiles.” The man said, inspecting his claws absentmindedly. “But the monkeys call me Cat.”

Lister noted the ‘C.A.T’ engraved onto a small patch on Cat’s tail. He was still confused however, “Why’d they design you like that? All cat-like?”

“They thought it was a good idea because of my name. Not that I’m complaining, I could never look like one of those guys.”

“But what happened to the other ones like you?”

Cat looked offended again, “Other ones? There’s only ever been one of me baby. You can’t replicate art!”

The Cat continued to chatter on as Lister began to look around again. He had to get out somehow, for Rimmer’s sake.

“Hey, how come I’ve never seen you around? You look more like me than any of these guys, what gives?” The Cat’s question snapped Lister out of his train of thought as he looked back up again.

“I’m not like you-”

“-Clearly” The Cat interjected.

“Look, can you keep a secret?”

“Sure.” A piece of dust went flying as Cat flicked it off his suit jacket.

“I’m not a robot or whatever any of you guys are. I’m human.”

The Cat looked him up and down in confusion, “One of those monkeys? They stopped looking like me aaages ago. All the better for me, I didn’t wanna work for them anyway. Now they just wear those hideous jumpsuits all the time. I didn’t wanna tell them that ‘they look gorgeous!’” He imitated the newer PR-T droids, “all the time! I wasn’t just gonna lie to them.”

“I’m tellin’ you man, I’m human I swear.”

“Say, if you are human, why are you here in the first place?”

Lister smiled, he was finally getting somewhere with this.

“I’m trying to help my friend, he’s a hologram-”

“A hologram? There’s only one of those guys on this ship, and that’s Rimmer. You can’t talking about him.”

Lister’s eye’s lit up at the sound of Rimmer’s name, “Yeah, I am! He got taken to diagnostics, I’m tryin’ to get him out.”

“You’re friends with Goalpost head? Him?”

Lister was confused, “Yeah?”

“You’re lying. No one’s actually friends with him. I feel bad for that guy who has to wander round with him all the time.”

“Who- Kryten?”

“How’d you know that?”

“I’m telling you, I know Rimmer.” An idea planted itself in Lister’s brain, he smiled conspiratorially, “Help me get out of here and I’ll prove it.”

“Escape?”

“Bet you can’t do it.”

The Cat grinned, displaying his sharp canines, “Bet’s on. You’ve got the Red Dwarf master of escape right here with you bud, you’re going down.”

And with that, the Cat seemed to vanish, deftly slipping through a vent in the back of his containment pen. Lister blinked in shock, peering over the barrier to see where the Cat had gone. However before he knew it, the Cat had dropped down from a hatch in the ceiling and right in the centre of the repair bay, prompting the repair bots to swing round in annoyance and dash towards him, arms wielding red shut down buttons as they shot forwards. The Cat grinned, smoothly swiping a few shut-down buttons from the shelf as he dodged the flailing arms, swiftly pressing one to each repair droid until finally every attacker hung silently from the rail.

Lister’s eyebrows shot up. For what seemed to be a beautification droid, the Cat was surprisingly good at this.

“How’d you do that?”

“I’ve been around a long time, and they’ve not caught me once. No one’s shutting this guy down!”

The Cat sauntered over to Lister’s containment pen, swiftly slashing the control panel with his claws, causing the barrier to drop immediately.

“That is how you make an escape.”

The other broken droids all spun to look at them as they walked free, buzzing with excitement and glitching hardware. Lister grabbed his satchel and dashed towards the diagnostic room, watching through the frosted glass in horror as the two remaining repair droids began probing into where Rimmer’s eyes should be, jabbing harshly into his face. Rimmer’s silhouette flinched, but remained standing on the platform, shoulders tense and hands clenched tightly at his sides.

Unable to find the catch for the door, Lister turned to the Cat for help.

The Cat shrugged unhelpfully as he took a nail file from a pocket on his jacket and began to buff his claws. “No vents bud,” he yawned, “Can’t get in. Sorry.”

Lister rolled his eyes, and began to search for another way to enter. Then he saw it, a solid looking robot arm, discarded on the floor. He grabbed it, feeling the smooth metal under his gloves as he came up with a plan.

Within a few seconds he had -inelegantly- shattered the frosted glass of the door with his new tool, stumbling through the gaping hole in a shower of sparkling shards.

Rimmer choked in surprise at the sound, the attending droids quickly retracting their probing arms from his -lack of- eyes as they twisted round to assess the problem. Noticing the flailing robot, they dashed forward, arms wielding red shut down buttons which they quickly attached to Lister -who was not nearly fast enough to dodge them. However, whenever the droids would press the button, the flailing robot would not shut down, its visual sensors switching on and off as they desperately tried to disarm the robot. In reality, the night mode on Lister’s goggles kept plunging him into a shadowy green toned world as the repair bots continually pressed the buttons. It was incredibly distracting, but he had to get Rimmer out of there. He raised the robot arm in the air as a repair-droid zoomed in front of him, bringing it crashing down on top of the metal creature with an unceremonious clang. If anything good had come from him hauling that compactor around for five years, the strength he seemed to have built from it was it. The repair-bot sparked angrily as it began to recover from the large dent Lister had inflicted upon it, speeding forward with a great ferocity. Lister quickly bashed his weapon into the droid again and again, each time with an echoing thunk. Finally, it was still, hanging to its movement rail by a few straining wires.

Stopping to catch his breath, Lister dropped the arm onto the floor, trying to figure out a way out. Then he frowned. There had been two droids, right?

As the thought formulated in his mind, Lister felt himself being wrenched off his feet by an overpowering force in his side, pushing him to the wall and knocking all the breath from him in an instant. Angry bruises began to blossom across his shoulder, where he had hit the wall, and his side, where the droid had hit him. He let out a slight cry of pain as he fell.

At this, Rimmer -who had been cowering in the corner for lack of any clue of what was happening-’s head darted upwards, craning towards the sound of Lister’s shout.

“Lister?”

Lister grimaced as the droid began barreling towards him again, “You already know I’m here, guy!” he yelled over the din of the clunking machinery.

“Well, yes, but what’s going on?”

Lister dove quickly to the floor as he flailed towards the broken robot arm lying helplessly on the floor. “I’ve got it, don’t worry!” He looked around desperately, “Cat, where the hell are you?!”

The Cat, who for most of the fight had been filing his claws in the main room, looked up, uninterested. “What now?”

“Help me!” Lister found himself being grabbed by the ankle by the droid, lifting him upside down into the air as it dragged him away from his weapon again.

“This is why I never help you monkeys!” The Cat called back, pulling out a small mirror and beginning to fix his hair. “You always get someone else to do your stuff, fix it yourself man! I’ve already worked enough today.”

Lister groaned as he hit the floor with a painful thud. He just needed something to hit this smegging thing with, and then it’ll all be over. Then he remembered the blaster that Rimmer had used when they’d first met. The one he’d almost been obliterated with.

“Rimmer!” He yelled, prompting the hologram to look up again. “D’you still have that blaster thing?”

Rimmer seemed confused momentarily. “The what?”

“Y’know, the one you almost killed me with?”

“Oh, that!” Rimmer fumbled for the blaster in his holster, holding it in confusion. “What about it?”

“Throw it at me!”

“What?! It’s important equipment, what if it breaks!”

“Oh smegging hell-” Lister cursed himself for ever coming to the ship as he scrambled quickly across the floor towards Rimmer. “Just give it here.”

With little time before the repair droid caught up with him, he tore the blaster from Rimmer’s hands, spinning wildly around and aiming in the general direction of the speeding droid.

He missed.

“Oh smeg off-”

He was interrupted by the sound of the shot hitting the wall by the main door, coincidentally hitting the central control panel with a resounding crackle as the Cat yowled in surprise.

“Hey! Watch where you’re shooting man! Coulda messed up my-”

The Cat -and everyone in the repair bay- went silent as sound of crackling from the broken panel began to increase to an incredibly worrying degree, sparks and small flashes of light sparking dangerously from the panel. As the sound began to reach a deafening climax, it suddenly went silent, the lights in the room flickering for a moment.

And then it all switched off.

The repair droid that had been attacking Lister stopped in its tracks immediately, hanging limply from the rail as it powered down. The lights switching off entirely, plunging them all into darkness. Lister was quite glad that his goggles had been switched on now, as he could now see perfectly well. Finally, every single containment pen flickered off, all the faulty droids suddenly free. They froze for a moment, as if considering what had happened, turned, and rushed towards Lister, elated. He had freed them!

Lister found himself suddenly lifted into the air by the hoard of droids, and tossed up and down in celebration.

He was about to try and get down when the hoard began to move, rushing the Cat along with it as it burst through the repair bay doors. Lister craned his head around in a panic, where was Rimmer? But before he could look back into the destroyed repair bay, the hoard had already moved on, speeding through the once empty halls in a cacophony of clicking and humming and screeching and beeping. Even the pink droid that Cat had been criticising earlier had been rushed along, scissors waving about wildly.

Before long, the droids had reached the more populated areas of the ship, the appearance of humans becoming more and more frequent as they continued along. Grey and blue lines shot past on the walls as the droids zoomed along, everything becoming a complete blur.

The speed was about to reach its height when, suddenly, they all stopped, screeching to an abrupt standstill in the middle of a main crossroads of the halls. From the sudden force of the stop, Lister tumbled painfully to the floor, blinking in shock and blaster firmly in his grip as he tried to figure out what was going on. Why’d all the droids stopped?

“H A L T”

Oh.

Now surrounding the cluster of malfunctions, a wall of hulking square droids had appeared, blocking the way for anything to get past. Red LED screens on the blockade displayed a large stop sign while yellow and red lights flashed on the top.

Looking around, Lister noticed the groups of people who’s hover-chairs had stopped around the chaos, all apparently oblivious to what was happening. Not a single one had torn their eyes away from their screens just to see what had caused their stop. He wasn’t even sure if they’d realised that they weren’t moving. To them, it was like the chaos caused by the rogue droids hadn’t even happened.

The square steward droids spoke again.

“H A L T”

Suddenly, Lister found himself being dragged off the floor and pushed toward the droids. He looked back to see who had pushed him, and was unsurprised to see that it had been the Cat.

“Sorry bud, but you caused it.”

Lister shot the feline robot a look, sighing as he stood in front of the stewards.

“Look, I-”

He was interrupted by Rimmer’s voice, echoing through the crowd as he pushed his way towards Lister.

“Excuse me, coming through, official EVE business, if you could move please-”

Lister turned around, dumbfounded as he stared at Rimmer -visor back over his eyes and the pod on his back. Rimmer bustled toward him, having somehow recomposed himself and put his visor back on all with enough time to easily catch up with the group. The man stunned him.

“Lister! I cannot believe this, you can’t just take official EVE equipment-”

Rimmer frowned disapprovingly as he wrenched the blaster from Lister’s grasp. However, at the sight of the weapon, the steward droids’ alarms began to blare, deafening and yet still not enough for the people to look up from their screens. One of the stewards took a photograph, which appeared in an angry red hue on all of their screens with the words ‘WARNING, ROGUE ROBOTS’ written in large at the bottom.

Rimmer’s expression dropped completely as he slowly turned to see the stewards, realising with a start that he was now classified as a ‘rogue robot’.

“Oh.”

He gently placed the blaster back in Lister’s hands.

“I’m technically not supposed to have this anymore.” He mumbled nervously, “Happy Christmas or whatever Lister, have a blaster.”

Lister wasn’t sure how to feel about this whole situation. All he knew was that everything hurt and that maybe being sad and alone on Earth would have been a better thing to be doing right now. At least he didn't get consistently beaten up down there.

The stewards and the rogue droids stood in silence for a second as they watched Lister and Rimmer’s exchange, before suddenly, one small droid burst forward from the crowd and barreled into the stewards. It did nothing, but that was enough for the chaos to start.

Before long, shut down buttons were being flung about and pieces of machinery had begun to litter the halls as everyone began to scatter in different directions, the stewards doing everything in their power to stop the rapidly escaping group of rogues. Lister was unsure what to do, frozen in confusion in the centre of the fray. Rimmer looked around at the chaos and the advancing stewards, frowned in exasperation and -without warning- picked Lister up by the arms, suddenly rising into the air. Lister yelped in surprise as the ground fell away from him, looking up at the annoyed looking Rimmer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a magenta and pink blur, that he decided was probably Cat, disappearing into the vents.

Rimmer began to zoom the two of them down the halls above the chaos below, some of the humans now finally looking up as they realised that maybe not everything was ‘a-ok’. Rimmer’s lightbee hummed angrily as it worked overtime, so loud that Lister could hear it quite well from where he was being held. Eventually, he was able to re-gain enough composure to ask what was going on.

“Since when could you fly?” Lister yelled upwards as the hologram swerved to avoid a droid rampant in the air. “You never tell me anythin’ man, I swear!”

Rimmer avoided his eyes, scowling as he eventually turned into a darkened corridor. “Oh really?” Lister frowned nervously as he felt Rimmer’s grip around him loosen. “Just like you never told me you were planning on stealing from me?”

The statement took Lister off guard, “Sorry?”
Suddenly, Lister found himself plummeting toward the floor, Rimmer having thrust him out of his grip. “What was that for?” He yelped as he stumbled to regain his balance, removing his mask to stare quizzically at the hologram.

“I’m talking about the plant!” Rimmer spat. “You made me look like a complete fool in front of the captain! Because of you, I had to go to the repair bay! And now I'm a rogue robot too! Everything is completely smegged.”

Lister felt his mood sour immediately.

“Hey, I-”

“This was going to be my chance to finally prove myself. The captain would finally respect me. Me! Broken little Rimmer!”

“You-”

“But you just had to go and steal that plant, didnt you?”

“Woah, I didn’t steal Clive! I barely know what it does, why the hell would I come all the way for it?”

Rimmer snapped, one eyelid twitching as he began to yell bitterly at the WALL-E. “For the last time! It’s not. Called. Clive! It’s a smegging plant! Just tell me where you put it! Now.”

“I. Don’t. Know.” Lister yelled back, “Why the hell d’you think it was me anyway!”

“Hm, let's look at the already incriminating things you’ve done shall we?” Rimmer sneered, beginning to mock count on his fingers, “Stowaway on an official vessel-”

“-Wan’t stowaway. I technically work for the same guys as you-”

“Hijacked Kryten-”
“-Wasn’t on purpose-”

“Destroyed the repair bay-”

“-I was saving you!”

Rimmer eyed him sarcastically, raising one pixely eyebrow. “Well I don’t know Lister, those all seem pretty incriminating wouldn’t you say? I mean, what’s to say you haven’t stolen official BnL property too?”

“For the last time Rimmer, I didn’t take it!” Sensing he might have found a checkmate, Lister smiled smugly. “And it’s not yours. I found it first! Clives mine.”

“Well, you gave it to me.”

“Did not-”

“Either way, where the hell is it?”

“Smegging hell, we could keep going in circles here!” Lister spluttered, “All I’m sayin’ is that while I don’t know where Clive is, I can help you find it.” He looked away for a moment, feeling suddenly guilty after their argument , “Promise.”

There was a hefty pause as the two avoided eachothers eyes. Finally, Rimmer spoke, voice barely raising over a murmur.

“Really?”

“Pinky promise.” Feeling rather sheepish, Lister forced himself to look up, extending his little finger in promise.

Frowning sceptically, Rimmer stared at the outstretched hand.

Lister nodded, “Trust me man.”

With some deliberation Rimmer slowly joined his finger to Listers, gingerly shaking it before letting go. Unsuccessfully, he tried to hide the small smile that tugged slightly at the corners of his mouth as he began to look around.

“That still doesn’t explain while you’re even here though.”

“Well it’s complicated y’know-”

Lister knew full well that it was not. No matter how much he’d tried to tell himself that he was here for the plant, he knew the real reason.

“I guess I just needed a change of scenery?” He looked up at Rimmer, hoping that it was a sufficient enough lie.

“Oh.”

“Why’d you look so disappointed?”
Rimmer blustered, turning away “No I meant ‘oh’ because- because…” his eyes went wide as he noticed something rounding the corner at the end of the hall, “Oh god, because there are more stewards right there.”

Lister looked round in panic, face dropping as he noticed more droids beginning to round the corner behind them. “Well can’t you fly us over?”

“The ceiling’s too low!”

“Smeg, what now?”

Rimmer spun wildly around, freezing as he noticed the portholes lining the corridor. Large half domes, jutting out from the wall into space, almost akin to that certain kind of viewing window in an aquarium. A small bead of sweat dripped down the side of Rimmer’s face as an idea planted itself in his mind.

“Oh god…”

Meanwhile, Lister had sprung to the opposite wall, clawing at the smooth surface to check for any hidden vents or doors the pair could escape through. He felt the air knocked from him in surprise as Rimmer’s arm firmly hooked itself round his waist, dragging him swiftly towards the nearest porthole. Before Lister could open his mouth to exclaim, Rimmer inelegantly pushed him into the domed window, muttering “Sorry” before also pressing himself into the small area. He looked behind himself quickly, making sure that the both of them were fully inside before glancing down at the shocked human.

The fluid blackness of space and stars swirled around them in their small bubble of glass, so close that Lister had to remind himself that he could breathe. Large stretches of red reached onwards as Lister blinked in awe at the outside of the ship. Even though he knew that he was technically inside the ship, the whole experience was beautifully terrifying.

And then he remembered that Rimmer was currently on top of him.

Lister found himself completely unable to meet Rimmer’s gaze, trying not to think about anything in particular. Especially not the arms pinning him in place, the proximity of Rimmer’s face to his own, the concentrated stare that he seemed to be fixed under or the strength in Rimmer’s grip as he’d pulled him by the waist.

He was definitely not thinking about any of that at all.

An embarrassed frown flitted across Rimmer’s face as Lister finally met his eyes, prompting him to once again check for the stewards as he tried to ignore the situation.

“Well-” Lister eventually began, unable to fully hide his bewilderment.

Rimmer whipped his head back round, instinctually lowering his lips to Lister’s ear, “Stay quiet.” he hissed.

Lister felt his face go very, very hot.

The silence was thick with tension as the droids slowly began to pass, crimson light scanning the width of the dark hallway as they slid smoothly along. Lister held his breath as he watched the stewards through the few gaps he had to see. As the light passed over the entrance to the porthole, he screwed his eyes shut, expecting to hear the shriek of alarms as they were scanned.

He waited.

And waited.

But there was silence.

A couple of minutes later, he heard Rimmer's familiar voice, hushed in his ear.

“Lister, I think they’re gone.”

“Thank god for that.”

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking in surprise as he was met with the piercing blue of Rimmer’s visor.

“Smeg-” He jolted backwards from the sudden brightness, wincing as his head hit the glass behind him with a thunk. “Ow.”

Rimmer sprang backwards out of the porthole and away from Lister, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so close.” he frowned, embarrassedly muttering under his breath. “That is certainly not happening again.”

“No I didn’t mind-” The sentence came out much faster than Lister had meant it to, if he had meant to say it at all. Rimmer choked in surprise, completely avoiding looking anywhere in the near vicinity of Lister.

“All I’m saying is that you need to turn the brightness down on that thing man.” Lister eventually forced out, still trying to make some semblance of a recovery from his previous statement.

“Well obviously.” Rimmer replied primly, still refusing to look at Lister, “Although perhaps you hitting your head there was just an act of usual clumsiness and not my fault at all.”

And there was his usual smeg headed-ness.

Deciding to ignore this, Lister chose to inspect what on earth had happened earlier.

“How’d you know the stewards were gonna ignore us?”

Rimmer turned around, puffing his chest out proudly as he began to explain.

“Well it's simple really. They’re programmed to scan the corridors specifically. The radius of their search beam physically does not allow them to look further than the edges of the walls. Because these windows are domed outside, it means that according to their programming, we weren’t in a corridor! They never even saw us.”

“Huh,” Lister smiled warmly, giving Rimmer a friendly punch to the arm. “That’s actually really smart. Well done man!”

No matter how much he turned away, Rimmer could barely conceal the smile that spread across his face. Pink seemed to flush his cheeks as his eyes gleamed with pride.

Lister, curious to see if he could extend the smile, leant towards the hologram from his seat on the ledge of the porthole. “So, got any more bright ideas Ace?”

Rimmer beamed.

Chapter Text

In the near silent cockpit of the ship, a small red light flashed away. It had been flashing for the last half hour or so, the message of ‘Rogue Robots’ that it announced being left completely ignored. Sat at the opposite end of the console, engrossed in the large screen in front of him, was Captain Hollister. 

A soft tone sounded as the smiling face of Holly appeared in the bottom corner.

“Hello Captain. Was just wondering if you were ever planning on switching that button off?”

Hollister jumped slightly, apparently completely unaware of any of his surroundings. 

“Yes, yes Holly, I’ll get to it.” He said dismissively, casting a halfhearted glance over to the other side of the console. “It usually sorts itself out anyway.”

Sighing, Holly jumped to a larger screen. “Has it ever occurred to you that that button never does this?”

“Holly, it’s fine. What do you want me to do about it anyway, hm?” 

“But Captain-”

“Whatever it is, the Stewards will probably sort it out. They always do.” He frowned, “I don’t even do anything on this damn ship.”

“Frank, that’s not true. You make the announcements-”

“What, so I’m a glorified air hostess?”

“Not just that! You deal with Rimmer and the EVEs too.”

“Great, so to sum up my entire job as Captain on this ship, I make the announcements and I have to put up with Rimmer, the glitch, harassing me all the time. Brilliant.” He snarked. “At least the actual EVEs are quiet. Leaving and returning from their missions all the time. Sending all their neat little reports over. Unlike him.” Frowning, he continued on. “But I suppose they’re no good either, 700 years since we got on these ships and they still haven’t found anything.”

“Captain, they’re trying their best.” She looked away, knowing the response she would get, “Besides, you have everything you could need on the ship. At this point, is there any point returning to Earth?”

“You don’t understand Holly! you don’t live, you don’t get bored. Can’t you see that I’m sick of this ship? I’ve always been sick of it. The passengers are sick of it. I’m sick of this stupid recycled air and water, I’m sick of it all.” Hollister ranted, gesturing wildly around the room.

Holly stared on awkwardly. “...Yes.” She glanced back at the purpose for her arrival. “Now, the button Captain? At least just turn it off.” 

The Captain finally turned to face the button, staring dolefully at it as Holly continued to chatter on, ignoring his own spiel entirely. 

“I think you might find the report quite interesting actually, word is among the androids that there is a stranger on board, though I don’t know where they would have come from or how they even got on board, after all, alien life was disproved quite some time ago and as you know, we still haven’t found life on Earth-”

“Holly?” 

The computer snapped back to attention, ”Yes Captain?”

Hollister raised a hand to point at a small patch of floor by the door, having apparently ignored all of Holly’s talk of the button. “Is it just me, or is that floor wrong?” 

Raising an eyebrow, Holly hopped onto a small screen suspended from the ceiling on a motorised track. “I don’t see anything…” she squinted at the ground, “Although I suppose it’s got a bit of dirt on it?” 

The Captain’s eyes flitted upwards, as if having a great realisation. “Ah I see.” Then he furrowed his brow again, coming to another roadblock. “Holly, what’s dirt?” 

Holly sighed as she gave the definition. She always forgot how little the Captain knew of his home planet. “Dirt: A foreign contaminant. Substance is a three phase system composed of various combinations of natural derived solids.” Frowning, she watched the Captain give a yawn. “Subject is most commonly referred to as Dirt, Soil or Earth.”

At the sound of the last word, Hollister’s eyes lit up. He glanced over at a small globe on a shelf in a corner, “Holly, could you define Earth for me?” 

She nodded, displaying a variety of pictures of streams, forests, houses, fruit and people on the screen for him - all sourced from the wide database of images saved from times past. “Earth: The surface of the world, distinct from the sky or sea.”

Hollister’s eyes widened as, finally, a large picture of a luscious, green planet Earth filled the screen. Wisps of cloud swirled across its surface, allowing small patches of blue to peer out through the gaps. 

He took a small breath of awe, “Define sea?”

As the captain asked away, curiosity overtaking his stern facade, Holly frowned nervously. Maybe the stories of a stowaway on board were true? She had been sure she’d been giving frequent checks of the ship, there was no way anything else was on board. But then, how would the dirt have gotten there? 

Ah.

Her screen flickered irritably as she remembered the shuttle. She had known that actually sending Rimmer to Earth had been a bad idea, she just knew it. First, the plant business and now this. He’d managed to bring another thing back with him.

Admittedly, she had no clue what it was exactly that he’d brought. But its presence worried her.

------------

Lister smiled absentmindedly as he followed Rimmer through the empty service passages of the ship, watching the hologram frantically check around them whenever the creaking vessel dared to hum a little bit louder than usual. They had been walking the seemingly abandoned corridors for a while now, with no sign of the steward droids for almost an hour. Lister assumed it would be quicker to get around if they were using the highways, but Rimmer had insisted they took the old service routes for fear of being caught again.

The air was stale and static, clearly being undisturbed in many, many years. 

“The EVE’s and I used these corridors all the time in the beginning.” Rimmer had explained, “So did a lot of the other working members of the ship - before the mechanoids replaced everyone. They don’t get used anymore because a lot of the new droids are too big to fit, and the engineers didn’t want to waste magnet track where no one who needs it would be going. It’s only really me and Kryten who come here now, Captain doesn’t want us bothering the guests.”

Lister frowned, “Only you and Kryten? What about the other EVE’s?” Rimmer glanced nervously at him, “I keep hearing’ people talk about ‘em but apart from you, I’ve never seen any. Not even back on Earth.”

“Ah- well I- It’s hard to- It’s not really that important-”

“There’s something you’re not tellin’ me.” Listers eyes narrowed suspiciously, “C’mon, man, we’re mates aren’t we? Whatever it is, I won’t suddenly start hating you or anythin’.”

“It’s a long story-”

“We’ve got time!”

Rimmer scowled, sensing he wouldn’t be left alone about the topic. “If you really must insist.” He muttered. 

Formulating his words, he glanced around the empty corridor once more. “I’m not-” He paused again, “There used to be plenty of EVE’s on board the ship, not even holograms at that point, just human. It was back when everyone walked around instead of using the hover chairs, and actually did things instead of looking at their screens. It was when the EVE’s went on regular missions to Earth too.” He glanced at Lister, “Not that you would remember them I suppose, being in stasis.”

Lister nodded.

“Well, one by one they began to die - for the natural reasons, injury, old age…” he coughed slightly, voice higher “... shuttle explosions.”

Eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise, Lister glanced over at him, dimly lit by the stars outside the small windows. He opened his mouth to say something but was quickly silenced by Rimmer blustering on.

“Either way, the main point is, they died. And with BnL being too lazy to hire anyone new, they just figured that they could bring them all back with the new hologram tech.”

He continued on as they began to follow signs pointing towards the escape pods.

“So we all came back, bla bla bla, kept doing our job, bla bla bla. Until one day, orders to go to Earth stopped coming. And before I even got the opportunity to go down there too!” 

“Why didn’t you ever go? You’re an EVE aren’t you?”

Rimmer looked away, “I… don’t know. I sent so many letters to that Captain but she kept saying no. I suppose it was because of this.” he gestured bitterly at his visor.

Lister nodded sympathetically, remembering the glow of Rimmer’s unfinished projection.

“Anyway, long story short, they all got switched off. There was no warning whatsoever, just suddenly ‘pop!’ gone.” He snapped his fingers.

“But what about you? And why does the Captain think they’re all still here?”

“I’m not entirely sure, Holly just keeps telling me ‘not to mention them’ to him. Apparently it brings up ‘bad memories’.”

“And why’re you still here?”

Lister raised an eyebrow as he watched Rimmer’s eyes flit towards him in panic before continuing on. “It sounds like utter tot to me, the bastard wasn’t even alive when they got turned off, how could it bring up ‘bad memories’.”

“Rimmer-”

“Maybe it’s just to protect him-”

“Rimmer?”

“Maybe he knows he’d do a horrendous job at commanding them if they were still around and doesn’t want to think about it.”

“ Rimmer! ”

Rimmer looked around wildly, eyes widening as he spotted the large entrance to their destination, just beyond the exit to the repair corridors.

“ Ohlook, theescapepods! Goodthingwefinallyfoundthem, let'sgo. ” His words were a deflective blur. 

Lister grit his teeth as he watched the hologram enter the small escape pod bay. There was something Rimmer wasn’t telling him, and he needed to find out what. As much as he’d come to consider Rimmer some sort of a friend, he was getting sick of not being told things. First was the fact that he was a hologram, then what the hell EVE even stands for (which he was still trying to decipher), the visor thing, the fact that he could fly - a little hidden tidbit of information that really could have come in handy when he was stuck to that cargo magnet from one of their first meetings. There were so many things that he was just expected to ‘find out’ which Lister would have appreciated being notified about beforehand. It at least would have saved as much of the heartbreak when Rimmer was taken by the pod after he’d shown him Clive. At the time, it really would have been nice to know whether his new companion was even alive or not. 

He put on a contented face as he entered the small room, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he watched Rimmer begin to look around. 

On the far wall was a wide open metal door, leading into a smaller cylindrical room which Lister assumed was the escape pod. A large control panel sat inside, with a matching one in the main room, presumably to control the course of the pod itself. A gentle hum filled the air, the room glowing from the various gleaming buttons around the area. Standing in the corner was another maintenance hatch, its airlock doors seemingly leading to the outside of the ship.

Lister cocked an eyebrow, leaning on the edge of the control panel to try and relieve some pressure off of his -still injured, and aching- ankle. “Remind me why here again?”

“Because, if someone stole the plant maybe they’d want to get rid of it. They clearly don’t want us to have it, but what would they need it for? Best thing to do with it, shoot it into space.”

For a split second, Lister regretted ever telling Rimmer that his ideas were good. “... right. But what if they’ve already done it, what’s the point of searchin’ all these escape pods if it’s already gone.”

Rimmer smiled haughtily, “That’s what you think millado. Little do you know that from pod bay numero uno here, we can see the status of all of the pods onboard.” He gestured at a small lightboard on the wall beside him, covered in small green lights and numbers. “No red lights, no missing pods.”

Lister tilted his head in understanding, “Ok, so we know where it isn’t.” He gestured towards the escape pod. “What now?”

“I-”

Rimmer didn’t get the opportunity to finish his answer as a methodic, thumping set of footsteps began to echo around the corridor outside. He looked around in panic, hands tense, “Someone’s coming!” he hissed, “Hide!” 

He threw himself into a dark gap between some large pipes on the wall, tucking himself as far into the shadows as he could, visor powering down to complete darkness. 

Lister followed suit, squeezing his satchel and then himself between the control panel and the wall. Holding his breath, he watched as the bay doors slid open, giving way to a familiar figure. His eyes widened.

Kryten looked around the darkened room with a growing sense of worry, grip tightening around the wilting, green lifeform in his hands. He really didn’t want to dispose of it, it seemed too precious, too important. He liked how plain it was, not bright and pixelated like all of the screens, and not perfect and smooth like anything else. Reaching the escape pod, he gently placed it on the floor, letting out a worried squeak as its leaves began to wilt more. 

For a moment he considered taking it, hiding it in his maintenance cupboard forever, keeping it safe; but his orders had been clear. ‘Take the plant from Rimmer and toss it. We can’t disobey the directive.’

Lister had been holding his breath for far too long now, and the position he was crouched in was not making it much easier. If he could just move to a more comfortable position, it would be fine. Kryten surely wouldn’t hear him. Right? 

Stumbling backwards, Kryten’s eyes searched the room for the source of the sound. Someone might be here, someone might know he’d stolen the plant, oh, he was going to get into so much trouble. A small part of him insisted that he’d just been hearing things - like Mr Rimmer had always said - but he just knew something was there. He dashed to the control panel, hurriedly typing instructions on it before running out of the room, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. “Oh dear oh dear oh dear” he mumbled under his breath.

As soon as the coast was clear, Lister burst from his hiding spot, sprinting towards the pod to reach the plant. He just needed to get there before the doors closed. He was dimly aware of Rimmer emerging from his own hideaway, visor flashing blue as it turned back on.

He didn’t have time to think about it before he dove through the doors, scooping Clive up and victoriously holding it aloft. 

“I’ve got him!” He grinned, turning around to leave.

However, instead of a thankful smile -or whatever expression of gratitude the hologram could make-, he was met with a face frozen in terror, Rimmer’s eyes wide with worry. 

Through the two layers of airtight glass that had definitely not been there before, Lister slowly realised what had happened. He flung himself towards the escape pod door, plant discarded as he began to bang helplessly at the merciless metal. 

He was trapped. 

Trapped in a tiny metal ball on a massive metal ship.  

And once the shuttle’s countdown stopped, he’d be trapped in a tiny metal ball in the vast, unending void of space where he would, inevitably, die.

Oh smeg.

“Rimmer do something!” He yelled, fingers scrabbling at the ridge where the doors were clamped shut. “Let me out!”

At the sound of Lister’s shouts, Rimmer’s trance snapped. He needed to help Lister. Just like how Lister had helped him in the storm, or how he had helped Lister in the shuttle, or how Lister had saved him from the repair bay. And saved him from the life of utter boredom he’d lived as the only EVE on the ship. Lister understood -in a way- being the only one of his kind left, and for all the annoyances and the troubles Lister had caused him, he had made the dead, whirring heart of the hologram feel more alive than ever. He needed Lister. He was his friend. 

As the numbers slowly counted down, Rimmer dashed towards the control panel, desperately scanning the buttons for any possible way he could get the ship to open. 

5, 4…

Airbags, ‘Please secure seatbelts’ and left hand turn signal buttons all gleamed unhelpfully up at him as the numbers ticked further down.

…3, 2…

Finally, Rimmer found it, slamming his hand over it in glee. 

…1.

But it was too late. 

Lister was flung into the wall as the ship hurtled away from the Red Dwarf. The distance between him and safety unfurling by the second.

Back on the Red Dwarf, Rimmer’s face dropped in dismay as his control panel went dark, external control of the ship no longer possible. He stared pathetically at the light for escape pod one as it blinked to red, mind beginning to race.

Suddenly a loud voice crackled through a speaker in the panel, slightly fuzzy through interference.

“Rimmer!” Lister’s voice echoed around the room as he shouted, “Rimmer are you there?”

The hologram looked down in surprise, fumbling for the intercom microphone as he began to respond. “Lister? Lister, is everything ok?” 

“Can you turn me around please?”

Rimmer blinked as he looked down at the inactive panel, “No.”

He could hear Lister groan, a bit in annoyance, but mostly in panic.

“No- no, what I meant was ‘I don’t think I can.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” 

“Isn’t there a control panel in there?”

The intercom went silent as Lister looked around.

“Yes! Yeah there is!”

 “Press the red button! That should switch it to manual!”

“Which one?!”

“The red one!”

“Which red one?!” Lister’s voice was manic.

Rimmer quickly glanced at his control panel, “The big one!”

After an extended pause, the pod’s red light began to flash. Rimmer felt his stomach drop. Of all the things that could be happening, this single-colour disco light was probably the worst. 

Lister’s voice crackled through the speaker again, voice tinged with a short lived sense of relief. “Rimmer, is everything supposed to be flashing down this end?”

“What do you think?” Rimmer spat, trying to conceal his concern. 

“...no?” Lister sounded confused at his sudden outburst, “Rimmer what’s wrong? I pressed the right button didn’t I? The manual drive, the big red one with the lid.”

Rimmer groaned, “Lister, there was another button. Without a lid.” His voice was quiet, his mask of irritation slipping further and further away. “Go look at the one you just pressed.”

“Self Destruct?” There was a pause, “Ah.”

“Did you not even try to pay attention?”

“I was panicking! I didn’t have time to read that!”

“Oh god, Lister you’re a goner. 1 minute and then toodly pipsky, I’ll see you in the afterlife.” Rimmer had meant for it to sound like a biting sarcastic remark, but it more or less sounded like a squeak of despair. 

“Hey, hey no one’s dead yet-” Lister stopped, “Apart from maybe you. I can still get out of this! Actually, that could work…” his voice trailed off as he began to mutter under his breath. 

“Lister, don’t you see! You’re trapped in an airtight ship there's physically no way for you to get out!” Rimmer was becoming more and more panicked, becoming even more resigned to the situation. 

Unless…

He glanced at the new timer, counting down the measly two minutes that Lister had left. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath, stepping towards the shipside maintenance hatch. 

He’d never been outside before, not in open space at least. Something bad was bound to happen to him, surely. His lightbee could disconnect and he’d be lost forever, or the sudden pressure change could crush and warp his projection, or he could run out of air, not that he needed it-

He blinked, staring through the window at the pod hurtling ever further away. His eyes grew wide as he thought of another possibility. What if he was ok, completely safe in space, but he never made it in time. What if Lister was the one who died. 

If he could just get to the pod in time…

Swallowing anxiously, he cast a final glance at the control panel -still hearing nothing from the small speaker- and then stepped into the hatch, closing the door behind him. 

And then he was catapulted into space.

Rimmer’s head span as stars ricocheted past, tumbling through the darkness as the air rushed from the chamber behind him. Taking a wild look around himself as he began to slow, he spotted the miniscule speck that was the escape pod, hurtling ever onwards through space. He took a breath - very aware of how unnecessary the action was due to his ‘already dead’ ness - and began to speed after it. 

Surging through the twinkling stars, he racked his memory trying to remember how much time was left on the timer. It might have been two minutes, or was it one? He swallowed as he urged his lightbee to go faster, propel him further.

Please, just this once.

What if Lister was trying to contact him still? What if he was saying his last ever words and Rimmer was missing them just to try some stupid rescue mission? What then? He’d be sat in the remains of a blown up escape pod, watching as little pieces of Lister floated past him.

The pod was so, so close now, just a few kilometers and-

The escape pod bloomed.

A violent orange and red blast stretched its awful petals outwards in every direction, flecked with white and red chunks of machinery and metal as it curled around the pod’s remains. Some pieces prodded and probed by the thick wisps of fire, some spinning off into infinity to join the hundreds of other fragments just like it, lost forever.

Rimmer felt like he was going to be sick.

He slowed to a halt, stomach dropping and eyes wide as he watched the explosion begin to dissipate, leaving nothing but the pod’s hollow, fragmented remains.

“Nononononono…”

His hands fell limply to his sides, a shudder jolting across his skin.

Lister had to have survived, he just had to. That was what he seemed to be best at.

He couldn’t be gone. 

Rimmer wasn’t sure what to do. Heading back to the ship felt wrong. Staring at Lister’s new grave felt wrong. Trying to ignore everything he was feeling felt wrong. 

He didn’t even think about the plant.

After what felt like hours had passed, Rimmer decided to head back. 

He cast a final glance at the wreckage, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket as he watched the pieces drift absentmindedly around. However, one small speck caught his eye, its erratic movements sending it shooting across the sky. 

He blinked, was it him, or was it getting bigger? 

He tried to ignore the quickening of his simulated pulse as the speck got closer. It couldn’t be… surely. Lister was dead. He blew up. There was no possible way that it could be him. Could it?

Drifting curiously towards it, he squinted, trying to get a better look at the figure. An incredulous laugh escaped his lips as he recognised the undeniably Lister shaped figure zig zagging towards him, a quivering smile spreading across his face. He had no clue how he’d done it, but Lister had survived. 

Without stopping to worry, Rimmer sped towards him, grinning the most genuine smile he had ever felt in his life.

Lister gripped the fire extinguisher tightly as he willed it to propel him faster, mind rushing from the adrenaline as he zoomed towards the figure of the hologram in the distance.

Finally, they met in the middle.

Lister felt the air knocked out of him as Rimmer wrapped his arms around him in a colossal embrace, squeezing him with a strength Lister didn’t realise he had. As they span with the force of Rimmer’s hug, Lister let go of the fire extinguisher, trying to maneuver the bulky spacesuit he was now wearing so that he could hug the hologram back.

He felt incredibly warm in the face, possibly still from the explosion.

“Sorry I took so long man! Went the wrong way, had to turn ‘round.” he breathed, hoping Rimmer was able to hear him make light of the situation.

He felt Rimmer’s grip tighten, “Shut up.” His voice crackled through a small speaker in Lister’s helmet.

“Oh, I got you something by the way.” 

Rimmer loosened his hug, suddenly re-evaluating the action. “What?”

Grinning, Lister turned his head to reveal Clive also jammed into the helmet with him. “It keeps spilling dirt down my back, and my locs are covered in mud, but-” 

Rimmer’s eyes almost filled the visor with how wide they were, flitting back and forth between the plant and Lister. Re-re-evaluating the decision to hug Lister, he squeezed him tight in his embrace again. “You- I- What- How?!” he stammered, barely able to hold his excitement, his face flushing a bright pink. “How did you have time for this?” 

“A magician never reveals his secrets” Lister winked.

“God I could kiss you right now.” 

Rimmer’s eyes shrank, his sensibilities immediately returning as he stumbled away from the hug. Lister dejectedly watched him drift away as an intense swarm of butterflies began gathering in his stomach.

“I- Um- I didn’t mean that.” Rimmer squeaked out, avoiding every ounce of eye contact that could be made.

Lister was too busy dealing with his own emotions to care, suddenly feeling like he was completely weightless. Technically, yes, he already was. But this was different. He leant backwards, grabbing the floating extinguisher as he cast a small glance at Rimmer. 

“Did you?”

Rimmer swallowed, “I- I- You- We should head back.” he finally choked out, turning to face the ship.

Lister grinned as he held the extinguisher, cocking his head to the side. “Should we?” 

Rimmer wavered, “... yes.” 

“You’re the boss”, Lister closed his eyes dreamily, letting himself drift calmly on his back as he waited for Rimmer’s reply.

The hologram turned back and stared at him, suddenly very aware of his own weightlessness, “Right, well - yes, of course.” 

Lister hummed softly in agreement, making no attempt to head back towards the ship. The plant gently nudging against the back of his head as he absentmindedly moved in the suit. He let out a small, relieved sigh as he opened his eyes again, hands loosely clasped over his stomach as he lay among the stars. Glinting constellations shone in the reflection of his dark eyes, catching the light in beautiful glimmering bursts as he gazed onwards. Under the calm, dreamy exterior, his mind was racing. He needed to calm down, but a small, unnecessarily romantic thought kept presenting itself. Choosing a particularly bright star to wish on, Lister decided that he would act on this thought if an opportunity appeared.

Rimmer blinked. Lister remained still. 

Rimmer felt incredibly, incredibly aware of himself; what he was doing with his hands, how his hair looked, even of what he was thinking (which was completely normal, private, thoughts, thank you very much). Lister just gazed, entranced, into the sky. 

Rimmer suddenly felt that this was all very stupid. If Lister was going to stare in awe at things all day, he’d rather that he stare at something important, like -maybe- him. 

Finally, Rimmer blinked again. “Lister, are you not worried about running out of air?”

“I’ve got plenty,” Lister murmured absentmindedly, “don’t you worry ‘bout me.”

“I will, thank you very much.” Rimmer sniffed, looking away indignantly. Within seconds, he could feel Lister’s curious gaze on him, scowling in mortification as Lister put on a coy tone.

“What was that, sorry?”

“Nothing, doesn’t matter.” Rimmer kept himself solidly turned around as he heard Lister chuckle softly behind him, hiding the embarrassed pink that was covering his face. He wanted nothing more than to violently throttle the person who decided it was a good idea to give holograms the ability to blush. 

“Oh, but I thought I heard someone say-”

The blush crept further across his face, “I said it’s nothing Lister, really no use you wittering on about it-”

“Are you sure?” Rimmer could feel Lister move closer behind him.

“Yes.”

“ Really sure?”

“Quite certain.” 

There was a pause as Lister finally relented, smiling fondly as he gently pressed on Rimmer’s shoulders, propelling himself away. “If you say so, man.”

Rimmer frowned. “Yes I do in fact, say so.” He turned to face Lister, “Anyway, we don’t have time for this, really we should be going back.”

And here was the opportunity. 

“Smeg, d’you ever just relax, man?” Lister prodded, absentmindedly trying to reach for the extinguisher he’d left hanging. 

“And why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Finding himself in more familiar territory, Rimmer relaxed again. “Well I can’t very well sit around and do nothing all the time, can I? What would the Captain think?” 

Lister rolled his eyes, “Well I think the captain can smeg right off.” He ignored Rimmer’s horrified gasp, “And I think that instead of worrying about what that git thinks, you should let yourself have some fun!”

Having finally grabbed his extinguisher, he spun himself around again, outstretching a gloved hand towards Rimmer as he came to a stop. “And really all I’m saying is,” Lister said, his voice soft as it crackled through the spacesuit, “would you like to dance?” 

Rimmer looked up in surprise, eyes locking with Listers through the gloom. They were wide and full of earnest, not an ounce of potential malice or insult to be seen. Lister really wanted to dance with him, and he really wanted to help. 

“...What?”

“We can head back immediately after if you’d like. Or now, even-” 

“No.” 

Lister’s eyes flitted downwards, “Oh-” he turned towards the ship, “Ok, yeah we could head back-”

Rimmer rushed forward, “Wait, wait- no, no that’s not what I meant.”

“What?”

“I meant ‘No’ to going back now- sorry.” Rimmer took a small breath as he clasped Lister’s hand, “I would lo-”, he frowned, the words having come out too fast for him to keep track of, “I would like to dance with you.” 

Lister beamed, quickly taking off in a corkscrew up and around Rimmer, dragging him by the arm into an impressive twirl. Rimmer’s head span as he looked below them, staring at the twist of extinguisher foam left in Lister’s wake. Lister grinned as he caught Rimmer’s eye, bringing the nozzle of the extinguisher up to aim at him. Rimmer barely had a chance to register as Lister squeezed the trigger, speeding off as he surrounded him in a puff of extinguisher foam. Rimmer coughed overdramatically, shaking his head in faux disappointment as he sped off after him, following the haphazard trail of white as he twisted narrow lines of blue light around it. Swiftly, the two streaked towards the ship, twisting and turning in parallel as they flew across the cosmos. As he gained more confidence steering with the extinguisher, Lister beamed, propelling himself head over heels in a circle. He cocked an eyebrow at Rimmer, as if daring him to one up him. Rimmer obliged, the blue light twirling into a spiral as he flipped in the sky. They continued to fly, trails arching marvellously through the darkness. Occasionally, Lister would spin circles around Rimmer, in a playful attempt at confusion as they ever so slowly closed the gap between them.

Inside the Captains quarters, his rabbit hole deepened. 

“Holly, can you define Dancing?”

“Dancing: A series of movements involving two partners, where speed and rhythm match harmoniously with music.”

Dipping and weaving between each other’s trails, Rimmer and Lister pursued one another across the sky, daring one another to get closer as they sailed along. They soared past the large windows of the ship as they neared it, people inside barely noticing the pair as they danced. Whether the dance was good or not, Lister certainly didn’t care, thoughts only consumed with watching the blissful smile on Rimmer’s lips widen. As they wove in and out of the ship’s many towers and ports, the two found their way to the roof, a large expanse of smooth metal stretching on for miles under the galaxies above. 

Rimmer barely noticed when they touched down, gaze only on Lister as they moved towards each other. Realising that his extinguisher was nearing empty, Lister let it go, hands finally free to properly dance with the man in front of him. Slowly, he reached for Rimmer’s hand, both smiling slightly as they pressed their palms together. Hesitantly Lister reached to put his other on Rimmer’s waist, unsure whether it was a step too far. He searched Rimmer’s -admittedly not ‘real’- eyes for any signs of discomfort, letting out a small breath of relief as Rimmer nodded -definitely not too- enthusiastically. The white material of Rimmer’s jacket felt smooth to the touch, Lister’s hand fitting nicely at his waist as they artlessly attempted to waltz across the roof. Under the backdrop and weightlessness of the stars, they clumsily swept through the dance. With no music, it certainly felt just a little bit awkward but neither cared, both seeming to step only to the tune of Lister’s heartbeat. 

Catching Rimmer’s eye with a wink, Lister span him out, arms stretching from the tension, the two connected through their interlocked hands. They stayed like this for a moment, Lister suddenly wishing he did not have to wear the space suit so he could feel the warmth of Rimmer’s projection and the softness of his skin. Without warning he felt himself being tugged back towards the hologram, tumbling across the metal and into his arms. Warmth spread across his cheeks as he held tight to Rimmer’s embrace, somehow having ended up with his back pressed firmly into his solid chest. They let go, deftly spinning and stepping together along the ship’s edge, lost in each other until finally- 

Lister flailed around in a short -natural- panic as he stepped backwards off the edge, only brought back to his senses as Rimmer grabbed hold of both hands, wrenching him back to the surface with a tug.

Blinking in surprise, Lister looked up, locking eyes once more with Rimmer, mere centimetres away. They froze, staring at each other for what almost felt like forever. Lister wished it had been. 

He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he watched Rimmer’s eyes -just for a moment- wander towards his lips. Pink flushed both of their faces, hot from the dance. Absentmindedly, Lister wet his lips, gazing at the hologram who was all too close, yet not at all close enough. Slowly, he dragged his hands back to Rimmer’s waist as he watched his breaths begin to slow. He sighed as the soft weight of Rimmer’s hands pressed onto his shoulders, the shift in position bringing the two even closer together. Slowly they drifted nearer, each lost in the other as the world stood still around them. Lister could almost feel Rimmer’s breath on him as they… 

‘Thunk’.

Ah. 

Rimmer blinked in surprise as his head hit the helmet, eyes wide. He drew back quickly, hands dropping to his side in embarrassment. 

“I- You- Um.”

Lister tried to ignore the creeping warmth that had spread across his face, staring -slightly dazed- at the flustered man in front of him.  

“We should head back.”