Even after the fact, it sounded impossible.

Vin Tanner's declaration hung heavily in the air, soaking up the atmosphere surrounding the Starfleet officers seated around the table like a stink that would not fade away despite the seconds ticking slowly by. They stared at the Vulcan who made the discovery, disbelieving at first mostly because denial was the safest solution. To accept what Vin had just said was to accept where they were presently situated was no dream, no illusion of light and magnetic containment but as etched in the fabric of reality as their own presence in the cosmos. For the few seconds following Vin's meld with the bartender, it was the safest concept any of them could accept.

Unfortunately, it could not last. 

As much as Chris wanted to wrap himself with the belief this was still a program they were still on the Maverick, the overwhelming evidence to the contrary did not give him that luxury. He was the Captain and what those under his command chose to accept with difficulty; he had to process with far speedier efficiency. All their lives depended on it. For the moment, however, he did away with the notion of how this could have happened and focused on the more immediate problem at hand, being why they were here. It seemed an odd place for an attack on his senior staff. Of all places, why would the enemy choose this place?

Chris did not know but knew to get out of here, they would have to find out why. Unfortunately, at present, it appeared the rest of his staff were still grappling with the realization their surroundings was no fantasy world created by the holodeck but somewhere real with all the trappings that came with its existence in reality. He looked up at them from his ruminations and heard them all grumbling amongst themselves, debating the results of Vin's meld with the bartender behind the bar.

"It's impossible," Julia stated predictably. "This is a holodeck fantasy!"

"I'm telling you," Vin turned to her sharply. "It's no fantasy."

He was feeling a little incensed about being questioned, especially because he hated melding with anyone, to begin with, but had understood it was a necessary sacrifice if they were to get to the bottom of things. It had been uncomfortable enough to drop the shields he had been carefully erecting around his telepathic abilities, to prevent himself from picking up the stray thoughts of others, without having to lower those same shields again. The effort was hard enough without its results being doubted.

"I could feel that she was alive. I could hear what was running through her head. Normally, I don't sense anything of the kind from holograms. This only happens with sentient beings. I mean I could tell she was tired from working all day, that she thinks Buck is kind of cute..."

"Really?" Buck asked, animated by the thought as he glanced over his shoulder and looked at the woman in question.

"That seems to settle it then," Ezra remarked. "The lady is alive but has no taste."

"If that's not being alive, I don't know what is." Josiah shrugged as he suppressed a little smile at seeing the dark look Buck flashed at Ezra for that jibe at his expense.

"Okay," Alex shook her head of the banter and asked out loud. "If this is real, why are we here?"

"That's a very good question," Chris answered. "Ideas anyone?"

"I think it all connects to the how we are here," JD spoke up, thinking carefully about his answer before responding as always. "This is not real. It can't be."

"He's right," Buck lent his support to JD's statement. "The Magnificent Seven is fictional, a collection of stories. Some say it has its origins from a Japanese folk tale about seven samurais without a shogun who protects a village from bandits. The Americans simply adopted it and fashioned their version into the program we now know."

"So this could not be a case of time travel," Nathan suggested.

"No," Alex replied. "We don't look like these characters and yet everybody here knows us, as who we are meant to be in the Magnificent Seven folklore. If these people existed in that time, they would be here. We would not need to be taking their places."

"But if that's true, then this gets more impossible by the minute." Mary declared, wondering if this was any more puzzling to the others than it was to her. "Okay, if we're not in a simulation and we are in reality, where is this in reality? Nothing about this makes any sense except these people and this town was created for us but with far more complexity than any holodeck program."

"I'm telling you, Mary," Vin repeated. "It's not a sophisticated holodeck program, these people are real. I heard her thoughts."

"With all due respect Vin," Julia pointed out. "We have no way to confirm that."

"What?" Alex bristled, not liking the fact Julia was doubting Vin to such a degree. "If Vin says that's what he felt, then that's what he felt. What exactly are you alluding to Lieutenant?"

"That he's been misled." Julia declared, just determined enough to show she was not about to back down. 

"I was not misled." Vin jumped in. "I know what I felt."

"Julia...." Ezra started to speak up, aware sometimes her mind geared for the most logical solutions at hand could be somewhat intractable. It was difficult for her to accept what was not a proven scientific theory. Julia's world was one of facts and materials she could see with her eyes and feel with her hands, to suppose something as outlandish as a fantasy world being given life in this was disconcerting for her.

"I'm not saying you were misled, perhaps someone wished to make you believe all these people are alive."

Vin was starting to get really offended because Julia simply did not understand how personal melding was to a Vulcan. Chris could see the helmsman about to retaliate sharply when suddenly Buck cut in before he could.

"Alright," Buck Wilmington spoke up with a loud voice, flexing his first officers' muscles quite effectively to regain some order at the table. "We're not going to start questioning each other people, none of us." He let his gaze sweep across the face of those who had been engaged in such activity and saw the shimmer of embarrassment surfacing in their expression when he made his statement. "Whoever put us here in this lousy position probably wants to see us tearing each other apart like a bunch of dogs and turning on ourselves. So we are not going to give them the satisfaction of playing their game or being puppets in this little extravaganza they have us performing in."

Once again Chris was struck by the content of Buck's vehement words to the senior officers, as he had been when Ezra had said something similar earlier. Performance. Games. Players. Puppets. Chris did not say anything. The drone of voices around the table grew distant as he tried to figure out when it was he encountered all those words together and knew somewhere he had encountered them in their entirety.  The connection stuck in his thoughts, grasping for the final piece to reach revelation. He closed his eyes and focused, centering on the moment he heard those words spoken in the context inspiring his thoughts so much and suddenly it came to him. The word escaped him like a captured breath but when it finally did, Chris felt as if a weight had been lifted from him because the truth he had just stumbled upon could be the only explanation of where they were now.

"Q."

Buck immediately fell silent. 

The others saw the sudden change of expression on the First Officer's face and turned to the Captain.

He turned sharply to Chris. "I hope you're just talking about the alphabet." Buck's voice was a whisper.

"What are you talking about?" Alex turned to Buck and then Chris. "What's a Q?" 

It was not surprising Alex and the rest of the command staff knew nothing about the omnipotent entity known as Q. The information was deemed as highly classified and released to command level personnel with the rank of commander or higher. Starfleet did not wish it generally known there were a race of beings with the power of gods, roaming around the galaxy capable of turning, time, space and dimensional realities on its ear at a moments' notice. The directive from Starfleet was to keep the information on the Q Continuum as they called themselves, on a strictly need to know basis. Only a handful of people outside Starfleet in the Federation Council knew of its existence.

However, Chris could find no other explanation for what was happening here. In truth, it made perfect sense and having read the data logs written by Jean Luc Picard and Benjamin Sisko who had the most recent encounters with the entity, this was more or less a textbook version of Q using them as instruments of his amusement. It was well within Q's abilities to take them off the Maverick and insert them into this world of make-believe and with all the villains that were being thrown at them left, right and center since their arrival, it was also consistent with the entity's idea of deadly play. 

"Surely you jest." Ezra exclaimed, just as aware as the Captain and the first officer what the word 'Q' had meant, other than its alphabetical reference. 

"How do you know about it?" Buck looked at him suspiciously, since such information was restricted to command officers of his rank and Chris's only. However, no sooner than he asked the question, Buck knew Ezra was no ordinary officer. The man was the effective security chief he was because he knew when to keep his ear to the ground and listen for information that was usually a mystery to most. If anyone could find out about Q, it was Ezra Standish.

"One hears outlandish stories all the time." Ezra shrugged, not wishing to divulge to closely his source of information. "Suffice to say, I know who Q is."

"Well, I don't know who Q is," Alex declared annoyed. "Care to fill the rest of us in?"

"I know about him too," Nathan confessed. "When I started the research in the Borg assimilation process, they let me see all the records regarding this Q and his presence on the Enterprise during the first encounter with the Collective."

That would make sense, Chris thought to himself. As one of the foremost researchers in the Federation regarding the Borg, Nathan would have had access to all the data regarding the Collective, including the details of the Enterprise's first encounter with the species. Seeing the expectation in the eyes of the others awaiting their Captain to explain to them who and what this Q was, Chris decided there was no reason to keep the truth from them. The information about Q was meant to be released on a need to know basis and at this moment, they all needed to know. 

"Q is an alien entity unlike anything we have ever seen," Chris explained. "As far as scientists have been able to determine, he is some form of life form composed of pure energy, capable of manipulating all forms of it even to the temporal level. It is at this time, the most advanced life form we have ever encountered. Q comes from a race of such beings calling themselves the Q Continuum. However, because they have what can justifiably be called omnipotent qualities, their evolution has risen beyond the need for the structure of what we call civilization. They travel throughout the cosmos and they amuse themselves any way they can. I suppose when you have the power to do anything and everything plus the added benefit of being immortal, there comes a time when you realize there is nothing left to do."

"Are you saying this thing has us?" Josiah exclaimed, horrified to think of so much power being in the hands of one being. The idea of being invincible, coupled with immortality could create megalomania on a scale that would allow the being in question to do anything without conscience or regret. Josiah shuddered thinking he might be in the grasp of such a creature.

"How come we've never heard of this Q?" Julia demanded, unable to imagine such a life form existing. It was wrong for any one species to have that much power. It did not seem in keeping with the balance of nature.

"Starfleet agreed it was probably wise for the general public to not know there was an entity like this drifting about the place," Chris answered. "The Q have a tendency for play and using other life forms for amusement but they do no murder or cause permanent harm to any of their pawns. The Enterprise had several encounters with a Q who seemed fascinated with humans in particular. Picard believes perhaps in an earlier stage of their evolution, the Q may have been like us, which might explain why they keep appearing before humans."

"So we're basically at the mercy of this thing." Vin retorted, thinking of nothing worse than playing puppet to some omnipotent being's fantasy.

"More or less, assuming that I'm right." Chris nodded in answer.

"Is there any way we can confirm it?" Alex asked. "I mean with all due respect Captain, I'm not doubting your word but if you said  this Q's interest has mainly been with the Enterprise, what is it about us that suddenly captured their attention and of all the programs, why this one?"

"Good question," Buck remarked. "I'd like to know that myself."

"Well, it's one which we all have a part in." JD ventured a guess. "I thought if you want the entire command staff out of the way, this is it."

"That's a point," Buck flashed JD a smile, one that usually meant that he was proud of the young man's acumen. 

"Possibly," Chris sighed. "However, until we know more. We are all staying together. We are dealing with an extremely powerful entity that could erase us from existence with a thought."

"Wonderful." Ezra sighed. "Now we know who has placed us here, are we simply to perform for our supper?" He looked in Chris's direction. The others followed his gaze, thinking the same thing themselves. 

Chris's jaw tensed and he looked at them with ice in his eyes. "Absolutely not. We will do nothing to give Q any more fun than he's already had at our expense. Come on, we're getting out of here. We need to talk freely and we can't do it in this place."

"What about the Clarion News office?" Mary suggested. "It's closest."

Chris nodded in agreement with that idea. "Fine, let's get going."

With that, he rose to his feet and gestured the others to follow. With just as much speed, the senior staff vacated the tavern, following the Captain out of the establishment into the street. Unfortunately, their numbers made it impossible to look inconspicuous; not to mention the fact they were the central characters in this little drama. They were a curious bunch of seven men and three women and as they moved through Four Corners, could feel themselves a tornado moving through the fictional town, sweeping all events that took place in its confines towards themselves. 

It was not a comforting feeling.

Although he explained much about the Q and the entity's habits, Vin could tell Chris was holding something back. The helmsman seemed to have some strange power allowing him to tell exactly what was on the Captain's mind. It was this connection that made them the friends they were and scared him to death because what he saw in Chris's eyes despite the Captain's anger at their situation, was a tiny hint of fear. Chris Larabee was not a man afraid of anything but if this Q was merely playing them for amusement, with the intention of releasing them when this was all over, why was Chris so worried?

"Chris," he caught up to the Captain as the man led his crew towards the offices of the Clarion News to gain some privacy while they decided upon some course of action. "What is it?"

Chris grimaced, hating it sometimes Vin could tell what was going on behind his eyes. The helmsman seemed more in tuned with him than Mary sometimes but supposed that is why they were such good friends because they did not need to tell each other what was going inside their minds, they simply knew.

"Q's at the bottom of this all right, but something is wrong."

"How so?" Vin asked, too unfamiliar with the subject to say anything else.

"From all of Picard's log reports," Chris explained quietly as he and Vin kept ahead of the others. "Q is in the habit of showing himself. Part of his fun is taking part in the action, to goad and taunt his victims with his superiority."

"I guess we're lucky we've been spared that," Vin remarked, not seeing why Chris was so fearful.

"Lucky?" Chris met his gaze. "Why? Why are we so lucky? What's different about us that makes him change his pattern all of a sudden?"

Vin could not answer and merely shook his head in response.

"I'm worried Vin," Chris swallowed thickly. "If he's suddenly changed his pattern in this aspect of his behavior, what else is there? The man can destroy us all with a thought. What if decides its okay to kill us? We won't be able to do a damn thing about it."

That thought was disconcerting and Vin felt his insides knot up in helplessness. "Damn."

Suddenly, Vin Tanner found himself wishing for Q to make an appearance.

However, when they turned the corner towards the street taking them to the offices of the Clarion News, what they found was not an omnipotent being but rather a dozen men, armed and waiting. Top Hat Bob, who stood at the head of the deadly party, with his eye patch and his dusty top hat, glared at the Captain through his good eye with a triumphant leer. 

"Larabee," he called out. "Get ready to die." 

He finished his declaration with a gun aim squarely at Chris.

Chris found himself staring at the barrel of the weapon and wondered a split second before it fired, whether or not it was too late to change his holodeck preferences to Buck's orgy in Risa.

"Chris!"

Chris heard his name shouted past Vin Tanner’s lips a split second before the officer of the con shoved him forcefully behind some crates at the edge of the street. Being Vulcan, Vin's strength was almost quadrupled that of a human and Chris could do little to keep himself from being flung to the ground. The sequence of events moved past him so rapidly, for a minute Chris had no idea what was going on until he saw the bullet that would have torn a hole through his chest slam into the wooden beam of a nearby hitching post. The disorientation resulting from his hard impact on the ground lasted only a split second before his mind switched into a defensive posture. He shouted as loud as he could to those under his command who had been behind him when the attack suddenly reared its ugly head.

"Everyone take cover!" Chris's voice rose over the sound of exploding gunfire.

The gesture seemed somewhat redundant since everyone was more or less in the process of accomplishing that very thing the instant Top Hat Bob appeared out of nowhere and began firing. Buck, who was nearest to Mary and Nathan, took hold of the protocol officer's arm and led her towards the water trough near the hitching post. The trio barely managed to reach it, being closely pursued by gunfire and had to skid across the hard ground in order to get there ahead of the deadly projectiles. The water trough was being riddled with so many bullets, the liquid seeping through the holes created an expanding puddle of water around it. The three Starfleet officers scrambled behind the wooden receptacle, aware its hollow innards would not offer them protection for long. The barrage was making short work of the trough. Buck knew they could not remain hidden behind it for more than a few seconds or else those bullets would find their mark in human flesh.

"We have to move!" Buck shouted over the deafening roar of gunfire, to Mary and Nathan who were crouched low. The doctor was reaching for his gun and checking the weapon with a hint of apprehension at actually using it on someone real, not a holodeck simulation. However, Buck was certain Nathan knew the stakes as well as he did and this crisis of conscience would be temporary. Mary, on the other hand, was having entirely different but no less hindering difficulties of her own. The protocol officer was, finding it exceedingly cumbersome to move in her restrictive clothes. The corset wrapped around her waist made it hard for her to remain prone and he could see her straining against the pressure of the garment against her spine. 

"No kidding!" Nathan exclaimed an instant before his eyes widened when a projectile ripped an exit point through the space before him, spraying splinters making him recoil.

Buck immediately rolled onto his knees in order to get a better view of where they were and more specifically where they could run to from this point without being cut to ribbons. He could see the Captain taking refuge behind some crates and the space seemed large enough to offer them the same shelter, if only they could make it there.

"Chris!" Buck called out.

The Captain looked over his shoulder immediately, hearing his voice through the roar of gunfire. Vin, who had overcome his lack of experience with a real Winchester after their earlier confrontation with Bob and his men, was making up for lost time. The helmsman was aiming the sawn-off rifle at the thickest part of the enemy contingent and firing with surprising accuracy. A number of Bob’s men were taking cover and for good reason as the projectiles being sent in their direction was impacting a little too close for comfort to their person. 

Chris glanced in Buck’s direction and immediately saw the first officer’s predicament. Not just his, but also that of Mary and Nathan’s. He winced slightly as he saw her groveling in the dirt, trying to avoid the hail of bullets that would eventually penetrate the water trough to reach one of them. Chris recounted again what Ezra told him about using the weapon of choice for an Old West gunslinger and cocked the gun accordingly in readiness to fire. His eyes met Buck’s and then Chris responded with a small nod. 

That was more than enough for the First Officer to know precisely what to do. This subtle form of communication was normally used between them when they were on the bridge, preparing to go into battle or some other situation that required discretion. Fortunately, at this time, it was just as appropriate for use in their current circumstances.

Buck turned back to Mary and Nathan and saw the instance between close shaves were becoming too narrow for his liking. If they did not move soon, one of them was going to get shot. The exit wounds on the wooden surface behind which they were used as a refuge from the gunfire was becoming more and more pitted. The odds were good eventually one of the bullets would pass through the water trough and find its target after all.

 "When I give the word," Buck said as loud as he could without giving away their intentions to the enemy. This was hardly an easy feat when the air was charged with exploding gunfire. "Run to the Captain!"

Mary nodded wildly, feeling some measure of relief in being given that as an option. Almost as if he were aware of what was on her mind, Chris looked in her direction and met her gaze. Their eyes locked on each other and he offered her a silent reassurance everything would be all right once she came to him. Strangely enough, Mary seemed to believe it too. However, the moment could not last as Chris needed to pave the way for them to make their advance towards him and Vin who were safely hidden behind the crates. The barrier was formidable enough that Top Hat Bob and his companions could not breach it and once Buck, Mary and Nathan were behind its confines, Chris and Vin could remain there indefinitely to continue the fight.

Chris turned his attention back to Bob who was just as entrenched in his hiding place as Chris and Vin were in theirs. The Captain could see the calculation in the villain's one good eye apparently noticing the exchange between Mary and him a second ago. Chris cursed under his breath, realizing Bob was now not simply attempting to keep Chris's companions, being Buck, Mary, and Nathan from being of assistance to him but was now concentrating on shooting down the beautiful woman who obviously held his heart. Bob pulled back his teeth in what was a sinister smile and fired. The bullet slammed into the space parallel to where Mary was taking refuge and passed a hair's breadth away from her face. The protocol officer reacted by dropping down further to avoid it, while Buck's grip around her arm tightened.

"Son of a bitch," Chris growled angrily. "He's trying to shoot Mary."

Vin glanced at Chris long enough to see the captain suddenly standing up and exposing himself beyond the safety of the crates that had protected them so far.

"Captain!" Vin barked. "Chris! What the hell are you doing!"

Chris did not know for certain and he wondered whether or not he was allowing his rage to get the better of him, but he did not care. Perhaps it was the place he was in that made him wish to settle this entire situation in the most primeval and fundamental way it could be resolved. The way it was done in the times before even the Old West became the legend it was. Sometimes, the only way to end a fight was to do it the old-fashioned way, with bare knuckles until the enemy no longer stood up.

"BOB!" Chris shouted.  

"Hold your fire!" Top Hat Bob ordered his men abruptly. 

"Chris!" He heard Mary shouting behind him. "What are you doing?"

Chris ignored her. He ignored Buck's demand for him to get back to safety and Vin's warning that he was going to get himself killed. This had to stop before they were forced to engage Bob in his gang in what could only be a bloody shootout that could get a good number of his crew killed, including Mary. If it was Q's intention to have them perform like puppets then Chris was going to rob him of every ounce of pleasure the entity strived to take from this play they were forced to involuntarily participate.

*****

The shooting slowed and then stopped altogether. No one spoke as the air went deadly silent.

"What in the hell is he doing?" Ezra Standish demanded almost prepared to go out there and find out. When the firing had started, Ezra had gotten Josiah and Julia to safety, finding a narrow passageway between the buildings that could be called an alley way of some kind. The gambler managed to keep Bob's cohorts from reaching them but the security chief had been desperate to reach the Captain but somewhat torn because he did not wish to leave Julia and Josiah, unprotected. The Counselor was capable of defending himself but most of the time did not have the stomach for it.

"I don't know," Josiah shook his head dumbfounded as he saw the Captain make his way out in the open, challenging Bob to approach. The man with the appellation of Top Hat Bob seemed reluctant at first, staring suspiciously at Chris and the rest of them to ascertain whether or not this was a trick. "However, I assume Chris knows what he is doing."

"Never assume a Captain knows what they are doing." Ezra retorted abruptly, staring anxiously after Chris. The security chief was desperately fighting the urge to rush out to the fray and protect his commanding officer. The sworn duty of every security chief was to ensure the safety of his Captain and yet Ezra was forced to remain here, mired in amber as he waited to see what it was exactly the man had in mind. It was a most unpleasant position to be in and his temper was less than amicable. "The position comes with an assumption of godhood that leads them to play the most foolish games with their lives." 

"The Captain would not place his life in danger unless he knew he could get out of it," Julia said coming to Chris’s defense. Julia had tremendous faith in Chris’s ability to extract himself and his ship from danger as he had done so on numerous occasions before this. The Captain seldom did very little without first having considered what the consequences of his actions were, not only to himself but to his crewmen. Everything Julia Pemberton knew about Chris Larabee told her his sudden desire to face Top Hat Bob in the open had the basis of a plan destined to extract them from their present situation.

"Spoken like an engineer," Ezra responded not kindly.

It was bait Julia immediately detected and responded to in kind. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Ezra did not turn around but answered with just as curtly. I do not need to explain it to you. Suffice to say, your experience in engineering. Mine is security and at the moment we need security, not amateurs with wishful thinking."

"Wishful thinking?" She declared, her cheeks flushing red with anger.

Josiah who had been until now silent could see the unresolved tension building the minute they had come into close proximity to each other. Their affection was clear and thus their passion when incited, equally fiery. He knew a confrontation was coming and the part of him that was a Counselor welcomed it, however, this was not the time for such displays. Not when they were presently embroiled in a life or death situation and required each member of the senior staff to be thinking clearly.

"Officers, " Josiah spoke up before this could be allowed to turn from a brush fire to a raging inferno. "This is not the time." He said sternly, hoping it was enough to snap them out of glare they were holding between each other.

Julia broke her gaze first and turned away but Ezra stared just a little longer and the hurt in his eyes was clear even for someone who was accustomed to never letting anyone in on his private emotions. Secretly, Josiah hoped their differences could be resolved soon for it was obvious they cared deeply for one another even though their behavior might say otherwise. After an instant, Ezra broke away and returned his attention to what the Captain was doing, glad that Josiah was present to remind him of his duty and feeling somewhat admonished at having to be reminded at all.

Julia decided that the best course of action was to stay as far away from Ezra as possible for the duration of this mission. Inwardly, she felt grieved their relationship had deteriorated to such a point they could not even remain civil to one another during a mission. It was unprofessional and embarrassing, especially when the entire senior staff could see what was going on, and the Captain needed to give them a severe verbal reminder of what should be occupying their minds at this time. Despite all that, Julia herself could not deny she was unhappy at how far things had slumped since this entire affair with the Accrans. 

Instead of remaining where she was, Julia advanced further up the alley way, realizing perhaps the narrow passageway may offer them a way out of their fight with Top Hat Bob and his men without the Captain being forced to face the villain on his own. In truth, Julia knew she was looking for something to occupy her mind because it was becoming increasingly difficult to not dwell on her crumbling love affair with Ezra Standish. She knew she loved him and he loved her, why was it so difficult for her to accept his apology and move on? Inwardly, Julia wanted things the way they were before her body was overtaken by an alien entity and used to confuse Ezra.

The passageway was so narrow there was barely space enough for one person to walk in single file so she was fairly unconcerned when she continued through the gap between the two buildings. The street on the other side of the buildings beckoned her through the crack of light beaming into her eyes. She was almost halfway when she realized there was a doorway along the path. She edged a little closer to it in order to see where it led, assuming it was a backdoor entrance common to houses in this day and age.

She paused when she was but a few feet from it, turning around to see what Josiah and Ezra were doing. It occurred to her she was breaking Captain's orders by going off on her own when Chris made it clear he wanted everyone together. Realizing the prudence of his words, she turned around and prepared to retreat back the way she came when suddenly there was movement in the long shadows, hiding in the poor illumination of the doorway.

The palm that covered her mouth and yanked her back into the shadows moved with such speed, Julia barely had time to process the attack until she was dragged into the darkness. She heard breathing in her ear, a heavy labored pant that immediately reached into her primitive fears and struck cold terror into her heart. She tried to scream but the sound never came, muffled in the birthing by the hand that killed it in her mouth. She was not helpless, however. She slammed an elbow backward, feeling the muscle that could have been a stomach being struck. There was a soft groan and a quick rise of sound that resembled outrage. Julia felt fingers digging into her hair and then the wall rushed up at her with blinding speed.

The impact of her skull against it brought cool darkness and she knew no more.

*****

Chris Larabee found himself standing before Top Hat Bob and wondered what in the hell he was thinking. 

When he saw Mary being specifically targeted by Bob, he didn't care whether or not this was some illusion created by Q, Top Hat Bob had crossed the line. The man tried to kill the woman he loved and under no circumstances, was Chris Larabee or the Captain of the Maverick, going to take that lying down. If Bob wanted him so badly then perhaps it was time to give the man the showdown he wanted but under Chris's terms. Men like Bob were easy to manipulate once Chris stopped thinking like a man trapped in a fantasy world and started remembering he was a starship captain and a pretty mean son of a bitch when he felt like being one.

When he had stepped out into the open, Chris knew he captured Bob's attention for the firing stopped immediately as the villain tried to ascertain what it was he was attempting to do. When it was quiet and Chris was certain he could be heard he called out, in answer to the anticipation felt not only by the enemy but the members of his crew who were praying he did not get himself killed by this plan of his. 

"Bob!" Chris called out to the man. "You want a piece of me?"

"You got it coming!" Bob declared after a moment, stepping out from the protection of his men so he could face Chris on his own. 

"I surely do." Chris nodded in agreement; not about to deny any of the sins Bob claimed he committed. For the man to play his game, Chris had to confess his guilt. "The question is, are you man enough to come get you some?"

Bob's eyes flared in outrage at the suggestion. "I'm more man than you'll ever be!"

"Alright then," Chris unbuckled his gun belt slowly and paused before he reached the final notch that would send the weapons to the ground. "What say we prove it?"

"You must think I'm a fool." Bob retorted, less certain than he had been a moment ago. However, he found himself suddenly in an intractable situation. If he were to deny Chris's challenge then he would look like a coward to the men who rode with him and it was pack rules in the West, if he could not assert his dominance over them, then he would be removed by someone who could. In any case, refusal would be perceived as weakness and that was something Top Hat Bob could not afford to show.

"If you don't drop your guns and fight me fair and square, I'll know you're a coward," Chris warned.

Bob's eyes narrowed and surveyed the faces of his men. They were staring at him, wondering what he was going to do. He could see the word slowly emerging in their eyes with each second he delayed in disarming himself and realized after a split second he did not have a choice. He either fought Larabee or lost their respect, and losing their respect was as good as being dead when one considered the company he kept. 

"I'll show you who's a coward when you're begging me to save your yellow-bellied skin," Bob growled and unhooked his gun belt. 

Chris looked over his shoulder and saw the terrified expression on Mary's face, her silent plea for him not to do this. Chris offered her a little smile, assuring her he would be all right. Buck and Ezra's features wore the same worried look and disapproval at the situation their Captain had willingly placed himself. Josiah's look was one of concern but he and Vin shared one thing in common, they both knew he would not have entered this trial of combat unless he knew he could win. Alex had made her way next to Mary and was too busy trying to calm the protocol officer to show her fears for her Captain's life. Nathan's disapproval of any kind of combat was evident by the distaste in his eyes and JD seemed caught between concern and fascination. 

Chris wondered where Julia was.

"Well, are we gonna do this or are you just talk Larabee?" Top Hat Bob sneered and dragged Chris's attention back to him.

Chris gazed at the man long and hard, pushing the images of his crew and Mary to the background as he prepared to fight. He remained where he was, making no initial move towards Bob. The wait made his opponent nervous because Bob could not ascertain whether or not Chris was holding position because he was afraid or merely cautious. In either case, Chris allowed no emotion to show that could be of any help to Bob as the villain studied him. His previous experiences in hand to hand combat had taught Chris one thing; always let the enemy strike first.

It was a concept Bob obviously had no knowledge of because just as the thought crossed Chris's mind, the large man rushed at him. Fear at the lack of concern in Chris's face prompted Bob into attacking first and Chris kept his eyes fixed on the enemy as the man began to circle him, like a wolf preparing the death lunge upon a helpless prey. While Bob's combat technique was fraught with posturing and primitive displays of aggression, Chris was content to simply watch him move, concentrating on his muscle and body language, while at the same time readying his own offensive into place for when the fight really began.

The man threw a plump fist in Chris's direction, which he dodged easily. He was careful to keep a narrow gap of space between them to ensure that Bob would always have to lunge in order to reach him. The blow whooshed past Chris and when the man was caught in the vulnerable margin of time after a punch was thrown and before another could be delivered, Chris slammed a focused strike into the tender part of Bob's side. The punch had its greatest effect above the man's kidneys as Chris intended, forcing an involuntary cry of pain from Bob's lips. The villain howled, enraged the first punch was not his and further infuriated because he had cried out and revealed Chris had hurt him. It was no surprise to Chris when Bob suddenly swung wide in anger, leaving his defenses exposed.

Chris did not let the opportunity go to waste. He dropped to one knee and struck Bob square in the stomach before the man had time to brace himself against the blow. He felt his palm sink into the fat belly and forced the wind from his opponent's lungs as Bob reeled backward. Not wasting any time, Chris was standing upright again and this time, he took the offensive as Bob attempted to recover. Despite the fact the enemy was bigger and possibly stronger, Bob was not a skilled fighter and was probably more accustomed to using a gun to kill his victims rather than his fists. The equalizing effect of the weapon made the men who relied too much upon it forget there were other skills of survival and defense. That advantage was all someone like Chris who had the skill but not the brute strength, to win. Lashing out in a succession of swift blows, his first punch struck the man's ribs cracking it under his fist, the second higher into his throat and the final was a road house swing across the man's jaw.

Bob staggered back again, coughing loudly as his windpipe sustained a disabling injury and tried desperately to recoup. To that end, he managed adequately but knew he had to get his hands on Chris if he was to have any chance of winning. Anger and hatred sent him running forward once again, intending to tackle Chris in a body slam. Chris held his ground, watching him cross the short space between them and braced himself for impact. 

"Chris!" Mary cried out but Chris was not listening. If he remembered she was there, Bob would kill him.

Ignoring Mary's voice, Chris leaped out of the way just as Bob was about to make contact. The would-be avenger ran straight into the wall. The loud crack as his skull met stone would have knocked a normal man unconscious. Unfortunately, Bob was running high on adrenaline and anger and though he was disorientated, he was far from done. However, Chris did not have the patience for a prolonged battle and decided it was time to finish this once and for all. Taking advantage of Bob's brief stupor, Chris came up from behind him and slammed his foot into the bend of the man's knee, dropping him immediately. As Bob struggled to turn around, he was met with another balled fist and then two palms that slammed into the side of his head. Another palm strike connected with the underside of his jaw, snapping his head back savagely and in the daze of these deadly strikes, started to falter.

Chris stepped back seeing no reason to continue. Bob was down and they all knew it. Not just the crew of the Maverick or the men who rode with him and now viewed their leader with less reverence than they had earlier, but Bob as well. The man was struggling to get to his feet and the crimson stains on the ground indicated he was hurt badly. 

"I think we're done." Chris stood back and looked towards Bob's men. When he turned around and started towards the rest of his shipmates, Chris did not expect anyone to stop him. He was right.

This was as far as Top Hat Bob's revenge was going. It was over.

The only description Billy Travis was capable of making about the place he was presently occupying with his newfound friend Quinn, was by the euphemistic term employed by scientists who made use of the technology. Anthropologists called the device a duck blind. Billy had been on expeditions with his mother where the device was used and at this moment, the description of his situation could be best explained by that reference. Anthropologist, in order to study primitive cultures without interfering with the course of the society’s development, used duck blinds. Utilizing light refraction technologies, the scientists could make their studies in a self-contained environment, completely invisible to the outside world.

At the moment, the bubble he occupied inside Quinn’s holodeck was not too different from that.

He could see everything taking place and the bubble moved when they wished it too, so he could observe several different people all at once. He had seen the Captain; Vin and Security Chief Standish battling it out with the villain Top Hat Bob and recoiled slightly when Nathan Jackson found that dead woman on the street. He confessed he did not like Mr. Poplar much and was glad Josiah made him small when they encountered each other. He felt a little apprehension when he saw Mr. Wickes trying to hurt his ma but Quinn assured him there was nothing to worry about. After all, wasn’t she always getting into trouble in the real Magnificent Seven program? Billy knew it was only an excuse for Chris to save her all the time.

In fact, it seemed to be the only reason to have women in the program at all, Billy thought to himself, now he considered it more deeply. Whenever his mother or Chief Engineer Pemberton was in the simulation, they were always being kidnapped, held hostage or in danger in some way that mobilized the seven into acting. He supposed that’s why Science Officer Styles did not participate because he could imagine no situation where she would need rescuing.

"The Captain is very resourceful," Quinn remarked as they watched the group, following the end of Chris’s fistfight with Top Hat Bob.

"He’s the best Captain in Starfleet," Billy said as they both sat on the floor of their bubble, cross-legged and munching on treats as if they were watching a holovid or something. "Next to my father that is," Billy added after a moment, feeling a wave of sadness when he recalled the father who died not too long ago. He liked Chris very much but sometimes it was not quite the same as the stoic Vulcan who was always the paragon of what it was to be Vulcan and yet could still put him to sleep with a lullaby. Billy missed him very much.

Quinn looked at Billy. "You are sad."

Billy nodded slightly, trying to hide it but it simply overcame him too quickly.

"I do not understand this idea of death," Quinn commented. "How can one not exist anymore? I have always been."

"No you haven’t," Billy shook his head. "You were born like I was born. Everybody gets born."

"But I do not die," Quinn stated.

"You have to die. Every living thing dies." The young Vulcan pointed out.

"I do not die." His new friend repeated himself. "I do not get sick, I do not get injured and I do not die. My father tells me I will live until the universe stops and beyond it if I wish it. I could go to the past and live as many times as I like because I won’t die."

Billy did not think that sounded very good. He was only a child but he did know he would not like to live so long that everyone else around him would die first. It had been hard enough losing his father. He would not like to have that experience repeated over and over again. "That sounds awful."

"My father says that I should be grateful that I can do anything," Quinn answered.

"Grown-ups always say that," Billy remarked.

"Except that, I can." Quinn met his gaze and Billy sensed there was great confusion going on behind the boy’s eyes. "I made all this happen."

"This is a holodeck program." The Vulcan pointed out.

"Yes," Quinn nodded with an unfathomable expression quite beyond Billy’s experience to truly understand. "Just a program."

*****

You know something?" Buck Wilmington said to Chris after they put Top Hat Bob some distance behind them.

"What?" Chris dusted himself off after his altercation and victory over Bob.

"If you were not my Captain, I would knock you on your ass!" Buck looked at Chris with a decidedly stormy expression on his face. The first officer was unimpressed by the Captain’s confrontation with Bob, especially in this pseudo-reality where there were no safety protocols to protect them from death, and the characters of the holodeck had somehow gained flesh and blood status.

"For once I’m in complete agreement with Buck," Alex spoke up. "Captain, that was extremely foolish and dangerous. If Bob had played it smart, he could have just decided to shoot you when you disarmed yourself to fight him."

"Jesus," Chris grumbled, "you two are like a bunch of old women."

"Hey!" Mary declared. "Chris, they’re worried about you like I’m worried about you. We’re in enough of a mess without you getting yourself killed. The Captain is the most important person on the ship. Protocols are in place to safeguard you, not simply because you are the Captain but because you are responsible for your crew and your ship."

"Alright already," Chris growled, starting to feel a little outnumbered. "I get the point but might I remind you a starship is not a democracy?" He gave them a hard stare and then noticed that Ezra, the one he expected to be most vocal about this subject was strangely silent. Normally, the Security Chief would be the first to be admonishing him for risking himself as he had with Bob but instead, there was an expression of disquiet on the commander’s face as his eyes studied the surrounding area.

"Ezra, what is it?" Josiah, who noticed it too, asked before Chris could.

"Where is Julia?"

"Well, she was right behind us when Chris was fighting it out with Bob," Josiah answered automatically and then realized he had not seen the Chief Engineer after that memory.

"She’d know better than to just wander off." Vin pointed out. "Especially now we know that this Q is involved."

"He might have taken her," Nathan suggested, aware Q was more than capable of spiriting the people he toyed with away at a moment’s notice. He had done the same thing to the Enterprise, transported an entire starship in the blink of an eye to distant space where the Federation was forced to engage the Borg for the very first time. If Q had not set those events into motion, the Federation might have been spared the Borg onslaught for years to come. However, that premature meeting had also made the Borg aware of the Federation, the Klingon Empire and the even the Romulan Star Empire. It changed the course of Alpha Quadrant politics when the powers that be, realized there were things in space far more terrifying than their petty rivalries with each other.

Chris considered the possibility for the moment and then decided it was unlikely. Since they were brought here, one thing was evident. While Q was content to throw the entire pantheon of Magnificent Seven foes in their direction, he had not engaged them directly. It was the entity’s pleasure to watch his players dance to the tune he set for them, not take part in it himself. If Julia was gone, it was more likely to do with the villains plaguing them since the onset of this crazy abduction, than Q taking an active interest in things.

"I don’t think so," Chris shook his head in response. "It isn’t his style."

"God," Mary suddenly gasped. "It could be that disgusting Wickes character." She looked at Alex and Buck simultaneously. "The man’s a monster, Chris! If he has Julia..."

"It will not get that far," Ezra retorted sharply. "Captain, permission to find Mr. Wickes."

"Wait, there’s something else." Nathan hated to consider this as a possibility but he had to. Now they knew they were no longer dealing with holograms but real human beings, he had no choice but to consider it. That girl he found in the street, however, she had come to being, was alive when her life had been stolen from her so cruelly. Nathan was certain to her killer, the possibility Julia may be something else entirely, would not matter to him. He would take her life as ruthlessly as he had done to the poor child with the coins in her eyes. "Before we met up with you. We found a body in the street."

"A body?" Chris did not at all like the sound of this.

"A girl," Josiah continued. "Young, pretty, she was strangled to death. The killer placed coins in her eyes."

"That’s bizarre," JD exclaimed. "Why?" A cold shudder ran through his spine just picturing the image of a corpse, with coins in the eyes.

"Well if it’s a classical reference," Alex replied. "It could mean the killer wanted to ensure she had money to pay the Ferryman to get to the other side."

"Excuse me?" Vin looked at her strangely.

"In Greek and Roman literature, when you die you have to cross the River Styx to reach the Underworld and the Ferryman, Charon will take you there only if you pay him. That’s why when they buried their dead, they put coins in the eyes so that they could pay him."

"That is an act of compassion." Josiah pointed out.

"From a man who strangles them beforehand," Ezra said skeptically, guessing already what Josiah was trying not to come out and say. "Are you telling me a creature like this has taken Julia?"

"More than likely cause this doesn’t sound like something Wickes would do," Buck spoke up; hating to admit Nathan could be right but the truth was Wickes had not seen Julia with him, just Mary and Alex. It made far more sense if the man were going to attack this way, he would have taken one of them. However, Wickes was the kind that seldom went anywhere without his men. If he had taken Julia, they would have seen him. Unfortunately, the silent abduction that saw Julia stolen out of their midst, seemed more consistent with the behavior of Nathan’s murderer.

"We are wasting time." Ezra interrupted, desperate to find Julia the more and more he heard about this Mr. Wickes and this unseen killer stalking women about town and murdering them. "We need to start looking for her now."

"Lieutenant Commander," Chris said sharply and reminded Ezra he was security chief and nothing would be served if they all descended into blind panic. "We will find her but I need your head screwed on right at this moment."

Ezra dropped his gaze to the ground for a moment, slightly embarrassed by his lack of professionalism. Julia was the one person in the universe capable of surfacing the real Ezra Standish, not the cold, hard cynic they had come to know. When he finally met the Captain’s eyes, Ezra noted the sympathy being exhibited by his friends for his pain and felt strangely comforted by it.

"I apologize." He said evenly.

"Its okay," Chris responded automatically. "Now we can’t assume she is with one person or the other. Unfortunately, we don't have the luxury of taking a guess. If she’s with this nut, then we have very little time so we’re going to have to split up. This town isn’t that big, we can search it."

"That’s right," Nathan added, wishing to give Ezra hope because he knew how deeply the security chief felt for the woman and if it were Rain in the same unfortunate circumstances, he would be just as unhinged. "What he does with them needs him placed close to town so even though time is against us, he won’t be far away. If he has her, he’ll be wanting to do it someplace quiet where he can enjoy himself but at the same time not be remote enough to have trouble disposing of the body."

"Doctor Jackson," Ezra cleared his throat, wincing each time the doctor used the word ‘body.’ "Do you think you could manage to sound a little less clinical? I do not see Julia as a body yet."

"Yes," Josiah frowned, giving the doctor a dark look indicating his bedside manner could use a little work.

"Sorry," Nathan apologized, feeling a mortified by his insensitivity. "However, we also need to keep in mind if he is responsible for Julia’s disappearance, he may have bitten off more than he can chew."

"I don’t follow," JD responded.

"I think I do," Vin caught on immediately. "This guy is used to dealing with women from this time, who wouldn’t know how to put up a fight if he came at them. Julia is not from the 19th century, she’s from the 24th and she’s an Academy trained Starfleet officer who knows how to get out of trouble if she has to. If this guy has her, Julia may know how to take care of herself or at the very least, stall him long enough for us to get to him."

"Right," Chris gave Vin a smile of gratitude at making that statement because Ezra needed to hear some positives regarding Julia’s situation, not merely meaningless platitudes of well-intentioned friends. "At the moment, I’m assuming nothing so we’re splitting up to find her. "Ezra, you, Josiah, Alex, and Nathan see what you can do about finding this killer. I figure the four of you would have a better chance of tracking him than the rest of us."

"What are you going to do?" Alex asked.

"We’re going after Mister Wickes," Chris answered. "Chances are if you don’t find her, we will."

Ezra hoped it was as simple as that. In truth, he would rather Julia be in the hands of a whoremaster, even if the entire notion was odious because the man would not be inclined to kill her.

Her chances of survival were considerably better than if she were the unwilling captive of a serial killer.

*****

Julia’s head hurt.

She woke up to a sharp scent in her lungs.

The acrid metallic stench assaulted her senses with the efficiency of smelling salts and forced her from the dark place she had been slumbering. Sensation bled into her at a crawl but when it did return, she almost wished it had not. The dull throbbing that was distant and tolerable soon felt as if a thunderstorm was rumbling inside her mind. She did not know she groaned when she first felt it, but there was a sound so she supposed she must have made it.

Her throat felt parched and when she lifted her head, fresh pain assailed her once more and forced to lie down again. She was on the wooden floor of a place she had yet to identify because her vision was still blurred. Her eyesight was slower to return than her olfactory senses, which were bombarding her with a host of scents. She tried to identify the acrid smell that roused her from her sleep and could not quite place it at first. Then Julia felt something warm and slick running through her scalp,  stymied by hair. When she felt it on her brow, she knew exactly what it was.

Blood.

When she attempted to reach for her forehead to investigate, Julia discovered that her arms were bound behind her back. The tension of rope around her wrists brought clarity to her mind like nothing else was capable. Her eyes flew open and she immediately started to struggle, life surging into lethargic limbs, left too long in their uncomfortable position. The ropes bit into her skin, chafing her flesh as she tried to loosen them enough to free herself. After a few seconds, Julia discovered to her rising panic, the ropes were tied with exceptional skill, ensuring the captive, being her, would not be able to accomplish what she was attempting to do now.

"You can’t escape." A male voice said softly.

Julia froze. She had been so focused on freeing herself, it never occurred to her, she was being watched. She looked up slowly and also realized she was in a church. Specifically Josiah’s church. During her visits to the program, she had an opportunity to be in this place once or twice before and recognized it immediately.

"Who are you?" She asked hoarsely as she turned her head towards him and saw the man sitting on the nearby pew, watching her closely with dead eyes. The lack of anything in them sent a chill through Julia’s spine.

"Nobody." He answered, observing her like she was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

"You must be somebody," Julia tried again. "I have to be able to call you something."

He met her gaze and suddenly, she saw something sparkle in his eyes. "You can call me Death."

When one came down to it, there was no trick to beginning an investigation, no special 'knack' allowing one investigator to succeed where another failed. The misconception popularized by authors such as Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie would have the everyday man believing one needed to have Holmes's dispassionate demeanour or Poirot's incredible arrogance to see clues where none existed. It was pure deductive reasoning one needed to see through the benign veneer of a crime scene, to visualize the violence that may or may not have been committed there.

Even though it was dangerous to do so, Ezra knew there was one place he could launch his search for Julia Pemberton and that was where she was last seen. Although he was mindful Top Hat Bob and his men might still be in the area, the security chief of the USS Maverick had little choice in the matter. Fortunately, by the time the quartet of Starfleet officers returned to the narrow alleyway where Julia disappeared, there was no sign of the villains. Ezra had to assume Bob was probably somewhere licking his wounds.

"She was standing right here," Josiah told Alex and Nathan once they returned to the small alley where Josiah, Ezra, and Julia had taken refuge when the shooting between Bob's men and the seven broke out. "Then you two got into that argument and she wandered off."

"It was not an argument," Ezra growled as he proceeded down the narrow passageway. "It was a difference of opinion."

"Whatever," Alex remarked, moving to a change of subject. Ezra was one of her closest friends on the Maverick. She liked his wry sense of humor, very much like her own and they both shared a cynical view on things even though she suspected like herself, it was not as jaded as both of them might like everyone else to believe. "I wish Vin had come with us. He's pretty good at spotting tracks in the ground. Something about growing up in the wilderness I suppose."

"We do not require Mr. Tanner's expertise this time around," Ezra said tautly as he saw the marks in the dirt and had a very good idea Julia had indeed gone this way. "She went down this path. I can see the indentation of her heel in the dirt."

"Really?" Nathan exclaimed with some hint of admiration, seeing nothing in the dirt except some unevenness that was deeper in some places than others. "How can you tell?"

"The women of this time wore shoes with different types of heels from that worn by men. Male footwear came with broader heels, where else ladies footwear seem to taper in that area." Ezra gestured to the tracks they had all paused to examine after he had made his statement. "You can see how it digs into the earth first, pushing dirt around it before being flattened out by the rest of the shoe."

"I'll be damned," Josiah remarked impressed. "I see what you mean."

"She did come this way then," Alex said unhappily, feeling very anxious about Julia's situation for some reason. She almost wished Mr. Wickes had the chief engineer in his hands. At least, they could be assured Julia might survive the next few hours alive since Wickes wanted her to replace one of the working girls he had supposedly lost because of Buck Wilmington. Anything had to be better than being in the hands of a serial killer.

Although advancements in criminology had more or less eliminated the genetic predisposition in humans that turned an intelligent man into a cold-blooded monster, such specimen sometimes managed to slip through the cracks of 24th-century vigilance. In the 20th century, they had been a plague almost as virulent as the diseases of the time and no less easy to cure.

The serial killer was a random animal, following a pattern usually unique only to him. Profiles tended to be generic and usually when the subject was discovered, often ended up being classified as something completely new. Catching one usually required determining the pattern and it was almost unheard of to catch one within 24 hours of the first crime. In this instance, the killer had been killing for quite some time. Even though Alex did not want to say it, mostly because she knew it must be weighing heavily on Ezra's mind, the chances of catching this creature in time to save Julia was slim at best.

They continued up the passageway until they came to the doorway Julia discovered earlier. Ezra froze, his eyes seeing details in everything that made his heart pound louder in his chest, even though he was trying his level best not to let it get to him. Razor sharp intellect scoured the grimy brick walls, examining the faded paint on the wooden doorway. He noted the greasy hand stands on the doorknob and knew even if he could lift prints off the handle; it would be of little good to them. Fingerprint evidence was only useful if the murderer had a prior record and in this day and age, where fingerprinting was akin to suggesting a man could reach the moon, it was more or less a redundant exercise.

"The tracks stop," Alex replied, knowing enough about what to look for to realize that Julia's footprints had disappeared. However, she disappeared from this place and was taken elsewhere, she had not done so on foot.

"Yes, they have." He nodded slowly.

Josiah noticed the expression on the security officer's face. It was almost ashen. The man was staring at the opposite wall.  When Josiah followed his gaze and saw what captured his attention, he could understand why Ezra was so horrified. Josiah swallowed and found his voice after a few seconds.

"Is that what I think it is?

Alex who recovered far more quickly was barking at Nathan to come forward. "Doctor!"

Nathan immediately stepped forward and took a look. He gave Ezra a sympathetic glance before he stepped up to the wall and ran his finger against the brick. What came off it was quickly examined when it clung to his fingertip and Nathan knew immediately, the substance could be nothing else.

"I'm sorry Ezra," he found himself saying. "Its blood."

"Ezra," Alex said quickly. "This proves nothing. She might have fought him and one of them could be hurt."

"Yes," Ezra nodded slowly. "There is always that possibility." However, his voice did not sound as if he entirely believed it.

"It may be that he knocked her out," Nathan retorted. "There's not a lot of blood so this could be a minor wound."

"It must be," Ezra said firmly and looked down the doorway and further up the passageway, further along from the doorway. "I do not see further evidence of bleeding. Of course, if we had our tricorders, this might be so much simpler."

"Alright," Alex tried to take the initiative, aware of the emotional turmoil Ezra was enduring at this moment. "He knocked her out here and must have carried her wherever he was going. Now he can't have gone very far without attracting attention. This is not the kind of place where someone with Julia's standing in the community could be slung over someone's shoulder without being seen. He must have entered the hotel through this door. I can't see him trying for the street."

"I can," Ezra stated. Her theory sparked his mind into working again. "Do not forget at the time of her abduction, we were engaged in a rather nasty firefight with Mr. Top Hat Bob and his cohorts. No one would have cared about seeing a man carrying a woman away, not when they were all hiding within their enclaves for fear of being caught in random fire."

"Damn," Josiah swore.

"So they could be anywhere." Nathan groaned, with more than a trace of defeat in his voice.

"More or less." Alex nodded grimly.

Ezra did not speak as he followed the footprints leading out of the doorway. Even though there was no blood down the path the killer must have taken Julia, there were still tracks. Julia’s wound was only superficial, if not the bleeding would be worse. The deeper indentations of his sole in the ground indicated to Ezra the man was carrying her. She was likely rendered unconscious in this tiny little annex, evidenced by blood on the wall. A cold sliver of ice burrowed into his heart and no matter what he told himself, Ezra knew it would not go away until Julia was found.

"We will begin searching," Ezra replied, snapping out of his dark thoughts regarding his lover’s fate. He had hoped she was alive or else he would be no good to her. "We can safely ignore the saloons or the hotel."

"Yes," Josiah nodded. "He’ll need privacy to do what he has to. I’d say the livery stable or a cellar somewhere."

"He couldn’t just break into someone’s house." Nathan pointed out. "That would draw attention."

"That’s right," the Counselor agreed, well aware of some of the universal characteristics of the psychosis he was dealing with. "This is a man who feels inferior before others. He conjures up fantasies involving himself and the women who are his victims. In his world, they are playing a part and it is a private world where only the two of them exist. To invite others, would be to destroy the fantasy and he can’t have that. It would take the satisfaction out of the killing."

"God, that’s sick," Alex whispered under her breath.

"As he is," Josiah stated. "Ezra," the Counselor turned to the security chief. "Would it help if we went and found Mr. Poplar?"

"The Pinkerton detective?" Alex remembered the name when Josiah was relating the events of what happened when he first emerged into Q’s playground.

"Yes," Josiah nodded. "Perhaps, he may have some idea about tracking this man to could help us with Julia. I don’t like him much and he’s a cretin, to say the least but I get the impression he’s been on the killer’s trail for some time and may give us a little help."

Ezra considered the notion. "I am open to any assistance we might obtain. Go find him. Alex and I will continue our search. We’ll meet back in this location in twenty minutes."

"So soon?" Nathan looked at him. Although Four Corners was not a large town by any means, it was not a small one either and searching for Poplar may take longer than that time.

"Yes," Ezra nodded, broking no argument on this point. He was unhappy by their lack of progress and knew Julia could not afford to wait until they eventually found her. Time was running out, he could feel the urgency of its diminishing quantity pressing up against his spine. Even though there was no outward sign of it to his friends, the fear he felt was so palpable it might reach up and choke him. "A great deal can take place in 20 minutes, Doctor Jackson. A great deal."

******

Death."

The word hung from his lips and for a moment, she wondered if he was just sadistic or insane. It did not take her very long to discover he was both. He sat at the pew watching her, allowing moments to pass without speaking, knowing the silence would heighten her terror almost as much as the length of chord he held in his hands. His fingers were gently caressing the rough Hessian fibers like something to be savored.

"What do you want?" She asked, unable to bear it. He was staring at her like a statue, watching her. His eyes were almost black and as he continued to look at her with that detached expression, Julia had the insight he was building up to something as if she were caught with him in the eye of the storm.

Once again he did not answer but continued to stare.

Julia decided she was not going to wait for him and shouted. "Somebody help me!"

Her scream was short because he was out of the pew immediately, making long strides towards her. Julia braced herself and watched him come closer. She was only going to have one chance at this but she was willing to try it because the look in his eyes told her she had no other choice. He was watching her, allowing his fantasy to gain momentum, building it into a swell of rage that would manifest into a storm of repressed desire. Julia was smart enough to know she would not survive the outpouring of dark and twisted emotion.

The distance between them disappeared and before she knew it, his shadow fell over her form almost as if the Reaper had suddenly moved into her presence. Julia’s heart was racing inside her breast as she watched the insistent caress of the rope in his hands become more and more urgent. The need was upon him and she could see the beast inside him awaken. Once roused, it would not be restraint until it fed.

When he was close enough, she kicked out her foot suddenly. The heel connected the curved bone of his ankle and she heard him yell in pain. Instinctively, he raised his injured ankle and when he did so, Julia kicked out again, this time ensuring her foot landed just above his knee. Her kick was strong and desperate, with more than enough force behind it to sweep his feet from under him. Julia did not wait to see him fall. She rolled onto her knees and pushed herself up as best she could. However, her progress was slow and even though she heard him fall to the floor, scuffling sounds told her he was recovering quickly and would be after her in seconds.

"Help me!" Julia screamed again, hoping someone, anyone would hear her.

"Shut up!" She heard him shout behind her and knew from the sound of his voice he was not far away.

She scrambled to her feet, preparing to run but her clothes and bound hands hampered her movements and stole critical seconds she could not afford to waste. She had taken no more than two or three steps when she felt his hand fist around her ankle and yank back sharply. Julia was unable to prevent herself from stumbling and without her hands to break her fall, slammed chin first into the floorboards. The impact almost knocked her out and as the pain emanated from her jaw and shuddered throughout her body, she felt blood filling into her mouth.

"Bitch!" She heard him scream through the haze of disorientation but was not in the position to do much else.

Julia did not see his fists starting to fly as he straddled her. The room was still spinning when his knuckle met her jaw. She was aware of crying out as the blows dislodged teeth and felt flesh swelling in her bruised face as he continued to pummel her, unaware of what he was doing. Her audacity to fight back inspired a mountain of rage inside him. She had dared to destroy the fantasy he prepared for them both and for that she would pay dearly. Her cries soon disintegrated into whimpers of agony. She did not know how much damage he caused, only aware somewhere during the beating, she could no longer see and the smell of blood was filling her lungs with such entirety, she was nauseated to the point of being violently ill.

Where was Ezra? Julia wondered anguished as she felt another bone shatter and were certain it was her cheekbone finally giving in. Why wasn’t he here? She wailed inside her mind, inside her pain for him to come and save her from this nightmare and knew there was no reason for him to come, even if he knew about her plight. After all, she had not exactly treated him fairly. How could he be blamed for anything when what he had done was because he loved her? He had not seen past her eyes and looked into the person she was because his desire was so filled with want of her. How could he have been expected to know? If she were in the same position, could she have made that distinction herself?

Strange how at the moment when she was poised between life and death, certain things became clear. Julia thought about her ship and her friends. She thought about Ezra because she was too weak and in too much pain to do much else. It was becoming hard to breathe and she wondered dazed, if that tightening around her throat had something to do with it, or was her lungs finally filling up with blood.

There was no way for Julia to tell what was happening even though she could hear his movements, slow and deliberating sounds echoing sinister intent with every ounce of pain she suffered. Both her eyes were swollen shut from abuse and the only thing she could feel was fresh, warm blood gurgling from her mouth and down the corner of her lips. She was no longer able to scream but she could make words, even if no one could hear them.

"Ezra."

The constriction around her throat paused for a moment.

"Ezra," she tried again, wishing to hear his name in her ears as if hearing it could give her strength to last a little longer. Or at the very least to say what she had to before it was too late before she never had the chance to.  Of course, it would mean little to anyone but her since Ezra was not here to hear it.

"I’m sorry." She whispered and felt the warmth running out of her eyes and knew this time it was not blood but tears.

It was becoming harder and harder to breathe and the pressure around her throat was so strong she could not inhale to take air into her lungs. Her mind started to fog over as the lack of oxygen began her descent into the grey numbness of brain asphyxia. She began to choke and as her heaving grew more frantic and desperate, it appeared the tightening became more insistent until finally, she could take nothing at all. Her breaths became ragged gasps filling her world. For a time, she could not focus on Ezra in her head as she battled for the last minutes of light left in her but when she finally succumbed, when her body and spirit were willing to accept the dark rushing at her, she thought of Ezra again.

And then there was nothing.

******

The minute he saw the crowd gathered in the middle of the street, Ezra Standish knew.

He was a man who relied almost entirely on the sixth sense that made him the security chief he was and an unbeatable card sharp at the poker table.   When he felt that hollow feeling of dread rising up inside him, Ezra knew he was not wrong. Beside him, Alex broke into a run as she hurried forward to see what it was drawing the attention of the townsfolk. Ezra could not bring his legs to move any faster because he was fairly certain of what was waiting for him. While those around him saw the gambler of the Magnificent Seven striding forward confidently to the scene of the commotion, inside he was quivering with fear.

He knew what he was going to find even before he reached the crowd and knowing it would kill him inside. Ezra saw Alex breaking through the crowd and pausing as she caught sight at what she saw there. For a moment, she remained frozen and then her shoulders sagged as she disappeared from view for a few seconds as she became lost in the small gathering. Ezra continued to walk, compelled to move even though he had no wish to. Then he saw Alex reappear. She pushed her way past the town's people. Her brown eyes were filled with tears and she was biting her lip, trying to stop the quivering that would induce her to cry.

"Ezra," she said softly. "Stay where you are." She instructed, trying to keep the authority in her voice but failing. "You don't want to see this."

Ezra did not answer and brushed past her. He felt her hand grab his hand and halted him from taking another step.

"Please," she implored, warm tears running down her cheeks as she beseeched him not to take another step. "You don't want to see this."

"I have to," he answered, his voice barely a whisper.

"No," she tried to stop him. "You don't."

Ezra ignored her and forced his way through. The townspeople who were programmed to know the relationship between them stepped aside immediately. Only Josiah and Nathan remained. The duo was searching for Poplar and their lack of success brought them into the streets where they noticed the crowd forming and realized they were too late. Nathan was leaning over the body and Josiah looked up to see Ezra breaking the circle of spectators.

"Ezra," Josiah said softly. "I am so sorry."

Ezra blinked as he looked down and saw Nathan removing his hand from her neck where he had been attempting to locate a pulse. Judging by the somber expression on his face, Ezra guessed there was none to find. His breath caught in his throat as he saw those lovely features battered so badly, it was almost impossible to imagine she had been the beautiful woman he remembered and loved, who stared at him with those incredible emerald colored eyes. He could not see her eyes because they were swollen shut and had been concealed by the two silver dollars, placed there by her killer.

"Why did he do this?" Nathan muttered. "Why did he hurt her so badly?"

"Because," Ezra managed to say, his voice shaking as he forced the words out. "She fought him. She would not have allowed him to kill her without a fight and because she fought him, he had to subdue her. He had to break every bone in her face."

"Ezra..." Josiah started to say but the security chief was not listening. He dropped to his knees gently next to her and ran his fingers over the soft strands of titian hair he had loved to feel against his skin when she kissed him. He ran his hand against her cheeks and did not care it was stained with drying blood. Now that she was gone, Ezra doubted he would care about anything again. He lowered his lips to her ear and knew despite her inability to hear him, he had to say goodbye or he would not have the courage to hunt down the bastard who did this to her.

With glistening eyes and fighting the tears that wanted to come, Ezra whispered softly in Julia's unhearing ear. "I love you, Julia, I always will." He bit down the urge to weep once more. "I promise you, I'll find him and I'll kill him.”

"Where is he?" Chris Larabee asked of Josiah Sanchez.  He emerged from the tavern after Alex had gone to find the Captain and informed him of what had happened to Julia Pemberton.

At the time, the Captain and the officers with him were attempting to discern the exact whereabouts of Mr Wickes. They discovered after his confrontation with Buck and Mary, Wickes had chosen to retreat to the little shanty town some distance away from Four Corners where he ran the women under his stable with an iron hand, while at the same time offering their delectable attractions to paying customers. Chris was in the process of preparing horses to ride out there in the hopes of seeing if Q was in the vicinity. Picard's report indicated Q often liked to take the part of a bystander who could witness the play he set into motion without actually taking centre stage. Since he had not shown himself during Chris's confrontation with Bob and Chris doubted he could play much of a bystander with a serial killer, only Wickes was left.

Mary had described the man as odious, to say the least, and he wanted to leave her behind but somehow, instinct told him since it was necessary to split the group up, it was probably bested they remain in large groups at least. When Alex came to find him, he suspected the worse just by the expression on her face. Few things affected Alex. She had the ability to shrug things off with more detachment than anyone on board, except for a full-blooded Vulcan with all the discipline that entailed. When he saw the shaken expression on her face, Chris knew instinctively what happened. It took a lot to shake her and only the worst possible occurrence could have warranted the hollowness in her eyes when she approached.

"Inside," Josiah motioned towards the batwing doors of the saloon.

Chris nodded slowly and then asked again. "How is he?" He asked gingerly even though he knew it was somewhat of a foolish question. He knew precisely what it was like to lose the woman one loved and Chris's own reaction had been extreme, he did not expect Ezra's to be any different.

"Bearing up." The Counselor replied. "He's in there questioning the locals who found the body."

It did not surprise Chris Ezra would hold together. He would do so because he was not someone who showed his grief to those around him. Ever since Chris had known Ezra, the Captain learned enough about the man to know his security chief was fiercely private, even more so than himself. Although Ezra's mother was a successful resort owner who now resided permanently on Risa, his youth was anything but easy. His official record read more like sordid fiction than an account of someone's life.

Ezra had grown up on the pleasure cruise circuit. His mother, a fortune hunter of some sort, travelled across the galaxy, dragging her son to every place capable of producing get rich quick schemes. There were several husbands after the Starfleet officer who had been her first and Ezra's father. They remained briefly when it became obvious only one man had Maude Standish's heart. Her son.

Mother and son moved through this precarious state of existence, sometimes rich, sometimes not but always on the move. The advantage of this uneasy life was the fact that while he was travelling from one place to another, Ezra became an impeccable judge of character. He could see something shady a mile away. His instincts were razor sharp and his ability to see through the masks that often confused so many humans, because of the number of alien faces that made up the galaxy these days, were unparalleled.

Chris had often wondered what the scene must have been like when Ezra announced to his mother he was entering Starfleet Academy. It must have been one hell of a surprise. Until that point, Ezra was either assisting his mother's schemes or playing the tables himself and as a card player; he had no peer anywhere. As someone said, Ezra made the Ferengi cry. Nevertheless, Ezra made it to the Academy on scholarship alone and accepting his lecturer's recommendations his talents lay in security, Ezra never looked back.

Chris met him when he was a lieutenant. Even then, his canny sense stood out among the security officers stationed on the Yorktown. At the time, Chris was a new first officer, just about to make rendezvous with the Rutherford. Ezra had impressed him so much during his time on the Yorktown, not only in his handling of different races but his ability to see through a lie. By the time Chris boarded the Rutherford, he was impressed enough to know when his first command came through, he would want Ezra on his command staff.

"Where's Nathan?" Alex asked, peering through the doors and seeing only Ezra inside.

"He's gone off with the..." Josiah paused as he forced himself to say it. "He's gone with Julia."

For a moment none of them could speak and the silence that fell over them was brief but lasting. Chris lost crewmen before. It was the part of the job no Captain liked but had to endure. However, it seemed worse because it was Julia and because it was caused by something as foolish as Q's games.

"Was she like the others?" He asked again after the moment passed.

Josiah exchanged a glance with Alex before the Counselor shook his head slowly. "She was strangled and she did have the trademark coins in her eyes but if it wasn't for her clothes and her hair, we wouldn't have recognized her."

"What?" Chris exhaled a strangled gasp.

"He broke just about every bone in her face Captain," Alex said softly. "Ezra figures she tried to fight him off and that only made him angry. He probably did it to subdue her."

Chris would imagine he would have to since Julia would not sit still and allow such a fate to befall her. Still hearing that made Chris determined to get the rest of his people out of here. Without saying another word, Chris stepped unto the floor of the saloon and immediately captured Ezra's attention. The security chief whispered something to the old man across the table from him, excusing himself as he came to meet the Captain. As he approached, Chris noticed the sadness in his eyes but nothing else to indicate he had just lost the love of his life.

"Ezra," Chris said gently. "How are you doing?"

Ezra's voice was low and grieving but he did not give Chris the impression of someone who could not do his job. Chris would not take that away from him anyway, because when he was certain it was the only thing holding Ezra together.

"I am fine Captain." He answered softly.

"I don't know what to say..."

"Chris," Ezra stopped him before he went any further. "I appreciate the sentiment but right now I do not wish to think about what has happened beyond catching the culprit responsible. I failed her once, I will not do so again by allowing her killer to go free."

"I understand." Chris nodded; once again feeling his faith in Ezra reaffirmed even though he would have understood completely if Ezra had succumbed to his grief. "What have you found out?"

"It happened very quickly. It is likely it was done by the time we noticed she was missing. He took advantage of our confrontation with Mr Top Hat Bob and the time taken for everyone to emerge after it was all said and done. By the time people had begun to pay attention, the body was already there."

Ezra tried to remind himself 'the body' he was speaking about was not Julia. Julia was dead. That lifeless figure he saw earlier was not his Julia and if he kept thinking of it as her, he would not be able to function. He knew he was poised at the edge of a precipice that would allow the pain to swallow him whole, should he choose to fall over it. Thus he remained where he was trapped between sorrow and rage and the balance was precarious enough as it was.

"So what's next?" Chris asked.

"I am not certain," Ezra remarked. "This town is not that large so I will find him. According to Josiah, he was visited by a Pinkerton detective who seemed to allude he might know more about this killer than I do. I am endeavouring to locate him."

"I would have thought he would be on the scene after you found her."

"So did I," Ezra said thoughtfully, his thoughts churning inside his head. After an instant, he looked up at the Captain once again, the temporary fog having dissipated from his mind. "Suffice to say, I shall be meeting the gentlemen soon enough."

"Alright," Chris nodded agreeing Ezra ought to concentrate on finding Julia's killer. "We'll carry on as planned. We'll be going to find this Wickes and hopefully Q."

"Take care Chris," Ezra warned. "I am not entirely sure how you are going to deal with this Q when you encounter him, but it is safe to assume the game he is playing is rather deadly."

"I hear you," Chris replied. "You take it easy."

The Captain tipped his hat slightly in his direction and was on his way again, disappearing past the batwing doors.

Ezra walked out the door, where he could hear Josiah and Alex speaking. He assumed they were most likely receiving some parting instructions from the Captain regarding his state of mind. Ezra could hardly blame Chris for doing so if such were the case. The Captain could not allow friendship to dictate his actions. As security chief, Ezra understood the folly of this better than anyone else. However, when he stepped through the doors onto the wooden walkway running past the saloon, Ezra realized Josiah and Alex were not talking to Chris about any orders regarding himself, but to a stranger.

Alex turned to him as he approached. "This is Silas Poplar."

"The Pinkerton detective," Ezra stated firmly.

Poplar stared at him. He was young, aged somewhere in his early thirties. His eyes studied Ezra closely as he approached and the security chief felt something stirring that immediately pushed Julia's death aside, and brought all those hunter's instincts inside him to bear. Whether or not Poplar realized what it was he inspired Ezra could not say for certain, but there was a moment between men where battle lines are drawn, even if they are not spoken.

"You are one of the men charged to guard this town from mishap I assume?" Poplar replied, sounding not at all impressed by the title.

"Yes, I am, although it appears I was too late to prevent the latest infraction," Ezra remarked, showing no signs of Julia's death on his face. Instead, Alex and Josiah saw the cool detachment of someone whose mind was working fast and furious.

The Science Officer considered Ezra one of her closest friends. His ability to go for the jugular was something she admired and respected. They often found themselves on the same side of any argument when it came to the security of the Maverick. A strange solidarity when their individual roles on the ship were so different.

"I am aware of that but unfortunately, our opportunity to catch this man has slipped through our fingers," Poplar remarked. "He will not kill again for some time and usually in another town." However, as he said this, he was eyeing Josiah most closely. Ezra did not miss the innuendo or the direction of his gaze.

"Is there something about M. Sanchez that inspires your interest?" Ezra asked, wanting to see his reaction, or for that matter, any reaction.

"I have it on good authority that Mr Sanchez was in Vesta City two nights ago. He has still not produced a suitable alibi as to where he was at the time of those murders." Poplar replied, all but forgetting Josiah and Alex as his eyes remained fixed on Ezra's.

"Do you have any reason to believe he is responsible beyond that one scant fact?" Ezra asked automatically.

"Not until the bodies began appearing here." Poplar pointed out.

"That hardly means anything, Mr Poplar," Ezra countered. "You were also in Vesta City and now you are in Four Corners. Am I to assume you might have committed these crimes simply because you happened to be in the same place at the same time?"

Poplar was outraged by the suggestion and his face turned red from indignation. "I have been tracking this killer for some time now. You would suspect me?"

"No," Ezra shook his head slowly, monitoring his response most coolly. "However, Mr Sanchez was with me and Miss Styles here, at the time of the second killing. There is no way he could have committed the crime. Since you brought up the point, I would like to know where you were at the time of the murders."

"I was investigating," Poplar responded smoothly but Ezra was able to look straight past his eyes to know with absolute certainty he was shaken.

"I see." Ezra nodded and then asked once more. "You say he has killed twice and moved on. How much time do we have before the next set of killings?"

"Not long," Poplar answered quietly. The arrogance in his voice was not as prevalent before. "The urge takes him soon enough. It's like a physical need, he can't quench, a desire that must happen."

"Ezra," Alex spoke up. "We have to find this guy before he leaves town. Once he's gone, he'll just do this somewhere else."

"Ezra?" Poplar shifted his gaze back to Ezra in something that was almost surprising. When he realized the gambler was staring at him hard, Poplar recovered quickly and produced another quick answer. "You must be the famous gambler Ezra I've been hearing about."

"Yes," Ezra nodded, that same mask on his face. "Ezra Stanford."

"So you are he." The Pinkerton man grinned, pleased he managed to escape unscathed from this particular minefield.

Alex's eyes widened and she was prepared to correct Ezra when the security chief silenced her with a look and faced Poplar once more. "If I could impose on you to stay for a day, I would like to confer with you some more. The killer will not attempt to leave town because it would be rather noticeable for him to flee so soon after the murders. This is a small community," Ezra continued. "Everyone is aware of everyone and any hasty departures may cause undue incrimination."

Poplar's smile faded from view. "I am at your disposal of course.  Would you mind if I examined the body?"

Ezra did not like the idea of this man being anywhere near Julia's form alive or dead but he could not afford to let the man's suspicions were raised. If Poplar left town, they would never catch him and with their needing to be in Four Corners to uncover what plan Q had in store for them, Ezra would not be able to go after him. Fantasy world or not, that was no idle promise he made to Julia.

"Of course," Ezra complied politely. "You know the way to the undertakers?"

"I was there when the first victim in this town was found," Poplar answered and started to draw away.

"I shall see you about, Mr Poplar," Ezra said coolly as Poplar retreated.

They did not speak until he was well away from them and out of earshot. When he was gone, Alex let out a held breath.

"He knew your name!" She gushed. "He knew it even before he heard me say it."

"That's why I had to confirm it was not Ezra Standish he knew but simply Ezra." The security officer answered still staring after Poplar, even though the man was no longer in view. "Well, Josiah, what do you think?"

"I think we have a definite possibility." Josiah nodded, aware of what Ezra suspected. While Ezra was conducting his interrogation, Josiah was studying Poplar's behaviour and everything he saw confirmed the worst.

"I think you are right. When we confronted him about being the killer, he was more than a little defensive, not with the outrage of innocence but of being exposed. If this were at all reality, I would be at this moment trying to learn if he was in all those different places before the murders occurred or after. I would bet a fortune to say it was before although the truth will never really be known."

"I think he wants to be caught," Josiah stated.

"I beg your pardon?" Alex looked at him astonished. "He was trying to pin it on you. That doesn't sound like a man who wants to turn himself in."

"I know," Josiah agreed with her statement there. "However, this kind of psychosis is very difficult to simply label. In one instance, he's not a sociopath. The urge as he calls it was a very personal description and if he truly did not want to be caught, he would have left the minute the deaths occurred, not pretending to be the lone crusader for justice. He is seeking justice but he is trying to get others to see he might be the one to focus their attention. Of course, the part of him that kills also tries to protect himself. His mind is always in conflict."

"You mean it's a mess."

"Mess or not," Ezra said icily. "If he killed Julia. I will kill him."

He knew with every fibre of his being it was Poplar who was responsible for the killing but the Security Chief inside Ezra Standish refused to let him abandon the laws of due process. He had no proof other than a suspicion and as much anger and horror he felt inwardly at the loss of Julia Pemberton, Ezra knew he had to be absolutely certain before he confronted the man. Part of him wondered why he was taking such precaution when everything in this place was nothing but a fake, a reproduction created by an entity to amuse itself. Why should he care about being so exact when everything here was an illusion? Because Julia’s death was no illusion and if he murdered Poplar in cold blood, that would be no illusion either.

Once the man disappeared from their midst, Ezra regarded his companions. For the moment, Nathan was conducting his examinations on Julia's body and Ezra would prefer to leave him to his work until he was ready to submit his findings. As emotionally restrained as Ezra was, even he could not promise he would not crumble if he was forced to look at her lifeless form again. As it is, he was numb inside. The pain had turned the rest of him into stone and would remain so until he was allowed to mourn her.

"Commander," Ezra said to Alex. "I think it would be best if you spoke to people around town about Mr Poplar’s whereabouts this morning. I will wager a year’s pay he did not see or talk to anyone."

"Alright," Alex nodded, understanding his need for confirmation even though she too craved vengeance for Julia’s death. The Chief Engineer was a friend and Alex was highly protective of the few she had. Seeing Julia’s death mask had been all to stark a reminder of some of the injuries she suffered when she was a captive of the Cardassians. "Shall I be discreet?"

"No," Ezra said coolly.

"No?" Josiah looked at the Security Chief. "Isn’t it smart not to overplay our hand?"

Ezra who knew better than anyone how a play was to be made, shook his head slightly. "I do not wish Commander Styles to be discreet. If he is innocent then he should have no reason to fear her interrogation of the good citizens of this community. If he has reason to fear then provocation is what we need to see if we are right."

"It may also engender a violent response." Josiah pointed out. "You should not underestimate just how desperate the half of him that kills wishes to continue, even if he wants to be caught."

"I underestimate nothing," Ezra said softly, images of Julia’s bruised face flashing in his mind as he spoke.

Josiah saw his expression and deciphered immediately what it was Ezra was thinking of and felt mortified by his insensitivity. "Ezra, I’m sorry..." he started to say but the security chief merely shrugged off the apology as he did everything since Julia’s death.

"It is quite alright, Counselor," Ezra replied and returned his gaze to Alex once more. "Commander, if you would so please?"

Alex nodded and came forward enough to give Ezra a little squeeze on his shoulder. "We’ll catch him, Ezra. He’ll pay for what he did."

Ezra responded to her efforts with a slight nod before pulling away. Alex took this as a sign to proceed and left them, striding towards the direction of the saloon where her own investigations into Poplar’s whereabouts would begin. It seemed the logical choice because the saloons in a small town like this were the hub of information. There was not much going on in Four Corners that escaped the eyes of its patrons and if Poplar was genuine in his inquiries, then they would soon know it.

Ezra watched her go, commending her secretly on her choice. If he had been in charge of the task she was given, Ezra would have started there himself.

"What are we going to do?" Josiah asked.

"You, my friend are going back to your church. I am uncertain of whether or not Poplar suspects we believe him to be the killer, chances are good he does. If that is the case, then the only way he can be certain of leaving Four Corners is to ensure someone else is implicated for the crime. Since he has already made it clear, you are the prime suspect, I see no reason why he would change that tactic. He needs someone to hang if he is to leave town and I am certain he intends that someone be yourself."

Josiah shuddered inwardly while at the same time thinking what a fine Counselor Ezra would have made, had he chosen to go into the practice. The security chief’s insight into the minds of those around him would have made him quite an exceptional one.

"If you think it is best I stay put, I’ll do that." Josiah complied. "What are you going to do?"

"I will be following Mr Poplar around ensuring he does not attempt to abscond."

Josiah nodded although he almost wished Poplar would leave Four Corners because the attempt would prove most decisively he was the murderer they sought.

******

From inside their hiding place, Billy Travis started to develop the strange idea, perhaps this was not a game. He watched with increasing horror the trials his friends were being subjected to and with the death of Julia Pemberton, was splashed with the cold water of realisation. Watching someone he cared for, whom he remembered for her kindness when she allowed him to roam about her Engineering Deck, being battered to death was not something he wanted to relive anytime soon. In fact, he would be carrying that memory around with him for a very long time indeed. 

When this began, it seemed like so much fun and it was. He found a new friend who seemed just as neglected and forgotten as he was. Quinn listened to his stories about Chris and the others avidly and when the boy brought forward this holodeck reality for them to watch closely the activities of the Captain and the others, it had been fun because Billy believed none of it was real. Yet Julia’s death was very real and the grief being felt by Ezra Standish and the rest of the Senior Staff was equally real.

It had been fun watching Chris fight Top Hat Bob and rather surprising to see how his mother handled the nasty Mr Wickes. He had no idea his mother could be so resourceful. He only thought Commander Styles could fight like that and wondered briefly, what else his mother could do he knew nothing about. However, when Poplar turned up on the scene, it was very evident the man was not fun. In fact what he was, was terrifying. Even though Billy looked young by the standards of human children, he was still Vulcan and far more developed. Billy could not understand why Quinn elected to add Poplar to the stable of Magnificent Seven villains but it was clear the man was far more dangerous than any gun-totting criminal, so far dispatched. 

"Quinn." Billy turned to the young boy who was watching Ezra’s surveillance of Mr Poplar avidly. "Why did you kill Julia?"

"I wanted to know what it was to die., Quinn answered innocently, unable to comprehend what was upsetting his new friend. "You spoke about how every creature in the universe lives or dies and I wanted to know why."

"You don’t learn by making someone die!" Billy cried exasperated unable to believe Quinn could not understand this and felt some measure of guilt because he was the one who had explained it to the boy. "She’s not really dead is she?" He asked after a moment, praying perhaps this was a part of the simulation and Julia was not really gone.

"Of course she is," Quinn retorted. "I can’t learn anything unless its real."

"You got to make this stop!" Billy cried out, realizing now not only Julia could die, everyone including his mother, could fall prey to the same fate as the Chief Engineer. The idea his mother could disappear from his life as surely as his father had was too much for Billy. When his father died, Billy wanted to die too. He was unable to imagine anything worse than going through life without the strong male influence who had always managed to make him feel safe. Until Chris Larabee entered his life, Billy had not realized how much of a void Syan’s death left in him. However, nothing would replace the vortex of despair if anything happened to his mother.

His mother made everything bearable. She dried his tears and told him it was no great sin to be different. No matter how lonely he was, or how isolated he felt from the other children, he could always rely on her to hold him in her warm arms and make all the fear and pain disappear to a distant place he could tolerate. If she were gone, Billy knew that he could not go on without her. He refused to and if Quinn did not understand what death was because he never experienced it, he could unwittingly take Billy’s mother without even realizing what kind of torment he would be inflicting.

"Why?" Quinn looked at him strangely, unable to understand why Billy was upset. "I thought we were having fun."

"We’re not having fun when people die, Quinn!" Billy snapped. "That’s not fun at all. I want this to stop before anyone else gets hurt." 

"I want to play still," Quinn said defiantly, his lips curling up into a little bit of a pout. "I want to see them fight some more."

"I told you to make it stop!" Billy declared, unaware of what he was dealing with and thus having no fear of it, tried a more direct way of getting through the boy. Grabbing Quinn by the collar, Billy started shaking Quinn hard. His new found friend had no idea how to deal with physical confrontation and did not fight, not until Billy’s small fist met his jaw. Reflexively, Quinn reacted and a flash of light followed sending Billy into the air before he landed hard on the ground.

"You struck me." Quinn looked at him confused. "Why?" He touched his cheek as if studying all aspects of being hit.

"Because you’re hurting people!"

"No, I’m not," Quinn shook his head with a little smile. "I’m just playing."

 Not caring he could be hurt almost as bad as those he was trying to save, Billy got up and lunged at Quinn again.

******

 Josiah Sanchez entered his church and stopped short.

There was little else he could do when he saw the sight awaiting him once he stepped into its hallowed walls again. The signs of violence left behind in the wake of Julia’s death was an affront to what the place was meant to symbolize.  Josiah felt his outrage flare even more than it already had with that realisation. He proceeded down the walkway between the pews, studying everything closely. No doubt, Ezra would look at this and ascertain in an instant how events had played out with the clues left behind.

It was obvious by the evidence before him, what took place here was unexpected. No doubt, the site was chosen to implicate him and since he knew he was suspect to no one but Silas Poplar, Ezra finally had the proof he wanted. Still, Josiah did not know whether or not it was wise bringing the security chief to see this especially since his hold on his restraint was tenuous enough as it is. Unfortunately, Josiah could see no way around it and Ezra would resent it if he thought they were trying to spare his feelings.

Josiah stepped into the centre of the crime scene, letting his eyes take in the sight of the blood on the floor, its crimson viscosity seeping slowly into the wood, leaving a stain no amount of scrubbing could ever erase. Josiah saw the shredded remains of rope, covered in blood where it had no doubt rubbed skin raw as its wearer tried desperately to escape. The evidence of the blood sparked something else in Josiah’s thoughts and suddenly, the Counselor found himself retreating from what he found. He hurried towards the door and went to find Alex.

It did not take him long to find the Science Officer who was at present at the bar of the Standish Tavern, the establishment owned by the gambler who rode with the Magnificent Seven, the character played by Ezra with such perfection. Although he knew he should have brought his thought to Ezra first, Josiah felt Alex was capable of keeping a cooler head, unless of course, it involved a Cardassian Gul who was once in charge of a rape camp.

Alex was standing at the counter, talking to the pretty young barmaid who ran the Tavern. She was in the midst of some rather important discussion Josiah noticed when suddenly a large burly man approaching the two women. Judging by the stagger in the man’s walk, Josiah guessed he was suitably drunk and the leer on his face as he eyed Alex told the Counselor what was on his mind.

"Ladies ain’t allowed in the saloon." The man broke into the conversation between Alex and the barmaid with a slur.

Alex offered the man a sidelong glance before returning to her discussion regarding Poplar’s whereabouts, choosing to ignore him rather than be baited. Apparently, Poplar had taken a room in one of the lodging houses in town and the barmaid was knowledgeable enough to know which one it was. She had no difficulty furnishing its location when Alex explained why it was needed. Buck had programmed the character to exhibit all the traits that made Inez Recillos such a respected member of the Maverick even though she was not Starfleet.

"I said," the man repeated himself, his drawl and slur becoming more exaggerated when he realized he was being disregarded as little more than a nuisance. "Ladies ain’t allowed in here."

Alex took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Look, I don’t want any trouble. I’m here for some information. Now, why don’t you go sleep it off?" She said politely. The barmaid was similarly poised to react, her features becoming hard as her hands disappeared behind the counter. 

"Ladies ain’t allowed," he said with a sneer, "unless they’re whores."

"I see." Alex nodded and started to turn away when suddenly, she swung around and threw a road house punch square into the man’s nose. The squelch of snapping bone followed a cry of pain as she grabbed his disorientated head and slammed it hard onto the counter top, knocking out whatever resistance was left inside him at remaining conscious. He slumped to the floor wordlessly and Alex looked over her shoulder at the other men in the room, who were staring at her with wide-eyed astonishment.

"Anybody else got a problem with me being in here?"

Silence followed.

"I didn’t think so," she replied and faced front again.

Josiah could not suppress the smile that stole across his face when he reached the two women and gave Alex a look which bordered on disapproval and amusement.

"What?" Alex shrugged innocently. 

"Nevermind," Josiah shook his head and remembered he was here on serious business, even if Alex’s behavior did allow him to forget that momentarily. "I just came from my church. It looks like Julia was killed there."

"What?" Alex exclaimed softly, feeling her insides knot. "How do you know?"

"I found blood and rope." He answered. "I think she was killed there to implicate me."

Of course, Alex thought. It made perfect sense Julia would be killed in Josiah’s church if Poplar was trying to frame him for the murders. If not for the fact she and Ezra could vouch for the Counselor's whereabouts, those who sat in judgment would have every reason to believe it was true. Unfortunately, Poplar had not counted on Josiah having an alibi and thus in turn left the stain of guilt firmly on himself. Only someone who was as verbal as Poplar had been about Josiah being responsible, could have planted the evidence.

"We better find Ezra, where is he?"

"He’s tailing Poplar, making sure the man don’t run out of town." Josiah replied. "I actually came to find you because I’ve got an idea."

"What sort of idea?"

"We know Poplar committed the crime but we couldn’t prove it until now." The Counselor began. "What I saw in my church gave me an idea. Now there was blood, lots of it."

"Obviously," the science officer nodded. "She was beaten up badly. If we didn’t know her previously, none of us would have recognized her as Julia."

"I know," Josiah nodded grimly. "But I was also thinking, for that kind of damage and for so much blood to spilled, Poplar must have been pretty soiled in it himself."

Alex began to catch on to what Josiah was alluding to. "You mean he must have changed his clothes at some point today so no one would suspect him. During the fighting with Bob, he would have just enough time to leave the body in the street and get back to his hotel to change. With everyone keeping their heads down to avoid being shot, he could have gotten off the street before anyone noticed."

"That’s right," Josiah answered. "Which means he would not have much time before we saw him to wash those clothes or dispose of it. He can’t launder it without raising suspicion and I think he's too smart to risk being seen throwing them away. I think he was arrogant enough to believe no one would suspect him so he would wait until it was safe to take care of the problem."

Alex’s eyes flared in understanding and she immediately pushed her self of the stool she had been seated on. She noticed the man whom she attacked earlier on was still on the floor and gathered he would be there for some time, judging by the blood pooling down his face and the slight bubbles of spittle he produced as he continued to doze in his unconscious state.

"We need to find Ezra," Alex stated.

"Let Ezra do what he’s doing," Josiah instructed. "We don’t want Poplar getting out of town, not when we finally have the evidence to prove he’s the murderer."

"I hear you.  He’s got a room in the lodging house across the street." Alex glanced past the patrons of the saloon to the dusty street outside. "If you’re right, we’ll find his soiled clothes there and then we’ll have him."

"That would make me feel better," Josiah confessed. "Ezra’s riding the edge of control as it is. I can see how badly he wants revenge and there will come a time when he won’t be able to stop himself."

"I don’t see that we should stop him Josiah," Alex replied as they both started out of the establishment. "Poplar’s a monster. He’s killed women long before we got here and if we don’t do anything to stop him, he’ll be doing it long after he leaves. Due process may take a battering but at least it's better than having a bunch of innocent women die if he were to go free."

Josiah guessed she might be right and more than anyone, she knew what it was to have great injustice inflicted upon her as Ezra had been in losing Julia. However, it was not Poplar that held his worry the most.

It was Ezra.

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