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Two black-clad Federation troopers made their way back to their
quarters at
Space Command. One was dejected; the other was grinning ear
to ear.
"Did you see what Supreme Commander Servalan wrote about
you?" the shorter
man said cheekily, pulling off his helmet to reveal a set of
carefully-hidden dreadlocks.
"She used the word 'imbecile' four times in the same
sentence."
The other trooper also removed his helmet and stared at him,
looking somewhat
disgusted. "What were the other words?"
"There weren't any others, just your name and a dash."
They continued on down the corridor. "When did she
write that?"
"I think it was after you tried to pick her up by
hypnosis."
"Well...she must have liked us," he assured his
companion. "She must have
confidence in us, to send us on this incredibly dangerous
assignment."
"I dunno, Rimmer," the first trooper said, shaking his
head. "I just don't know."
Now it was Rimmer's turn to smile. "You're too
paranoid, Listy."
Back in her office, Servalan rubbed her forehead wearily, and
again read
through the orders that would send the two on their mission --
formerly
Space Commander Travis's mission -- wondering for the millionth
time whether
she should sign them. Good help had been hard to find since
the war with
the Andromedans...still, it was hard to believe that these men
were the best
Space Command had to offer. It was certainly a comedown
from the old days
of the Federation. These two didn't look like they could catch a
cold, much
less a group of dangerous rebel terrorists.
As she prepared to make her decision, she considered the two
possible outcomes.
Either they would complete their mission and rid the Federation
of an irritating
thorn in its side...or Troopers Lister and Rimmer would get
themselves killed
chasing after Roj Blake.
"A plan with no drawbacks," she announced to no-one in
particular, and
signed the orders with a flourish.
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