Part Seven

Even after the fact, it sounded impossible. 

Vin Tanner's declaration hung heavily in the air, soaking up the atmosphere surrounding the Starfleet officer seated around the table like a stink that would not face away despite the moments that ticked slowly by. They stared at the Vulcan who had made the discovery, disbelieving at first mostly because denial was the safest solution. To accept what Vin had said was to accept that 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, that was the safest concept that any of them could appreciate. 

Unfortunately, it could not last.  

As much as Chris wanted to wrap himself with the belief that this was still a program that they were on the Maverick still, 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 chose this place? 

Chris did not know but knew that if they were to get out of here, they would have to find out why. Unfortunately, at present it appeared that the rest of his staff were still grappling with the realisation that their surroundings were no fantasy world created by the holodeck but somewhere real with all the trappings that came with 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. 

"Its impossible," Julia retorted. "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, notably because he hated melding with anyone to being with but had understood that 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 that 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 it 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 samurai 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 retorted, 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 the fact that 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. "Its 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 that 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 that 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 that sometimes her mind that was geared for the most logical solutions at hand could be somewhat intractable. It was difficult for her to accept what was not 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 fantasy world being given life in this was disconcerting for her. 

"I'm not saying that you were misled, perhaps someone wished to make you believe that 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 that surfaced in their expression when he made his statement. "Whomever put us here in this lousy position probably wants to see us tearing each other apart like bunch of dogs turning on themselves 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 on. 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 had encountered all those words together and knew that somewhere he had encountered them in their entirety for their connection in his memory would not let go of his thoughts. He closed his eyes and focused, centering on the moment he had heard those words spoken in the context that had inspired 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 that he had just stumbled upon could be the only explanation of where they were now. 

"Q." 

Buck immediately felt silent.  

The others saw the sudden change of expression on the First Officer's face and then turned to the captain who had made the statement that had captured Buck's undivided interest. 

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 that Alex and the rest of the command staff knew anything about the omnipotent entity known as Q. The information had been deemed as highly classified and was only released to command level personnel with the rank of commander or higher. Starfleet did not wish it generally known that there were a race of beings with the power of nothing less than 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 text book 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' only. However, no sooner than he asked the question, Buck knew that 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 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 Enterprises' 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 that 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 that call 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 and they amuse themselves in 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 that 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 that 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 that it was probably wise for the general public to not know that 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 D had several encounters with the Q who seemed to be fascinated with humans in particular. Picard believes that 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 that 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 its 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 from existence with a thought." 

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

Chris' jaw tensed and he looked at them with ice in his eyes. "Absolutely not. We will do nothing to give Q any more fun that 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. "Its 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 that 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 the fictional town of Four Corners, could feel themselves a tornado moving through the town, sweeping all events that took place in its confines towards themselves.  

It was not a comforting feeling. 

Although he had 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 that allowed him to tell exactly what was on the captain's mind. It was this symbiosis that made them the friends they were and scared him to death because what he saw in Chris' 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 in order for them to gain some privacy while they decided upon some course of action. "What is it?" 

Chris grimaced, hating it sometimes that 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?" Vin asked, too unfamiliar with the subject of the being 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 what Chris was referring. 

"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, as they turned the corner towards the street that would take them to the officers of the Clarion News, what they found was not the omnipotent being but rather a dozen men, armed and awaiting. 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 on his face at the same time.  

"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.

Part Eight

"Chris!"

Chris heard his name scream 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 thus Chris could do little to keep himself from being flung to the ground. The sequence of events moved past him so rapidly that 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 and he was shouting out as loud as he could to those under his command who had been behind when the attack suddenly reared its ugly head.

"Everyone take cover!" Chris' voice rose over the sound of shattering 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 his weapon. Buck, who had been nearest to Mary and Nathan, took hold of the protocol officer's arm and led her towards the water through 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 bullets so numerously that the liquid seeping through the holes left by bullets created an expanding puddle of water around it. The three Starfleet officers scrambled behind the wooden receptacle, aware that it hollow innards would not offer them protection for very long. The bullets being hurled at them by way of enemy fire was making short work of the through and Buck knew that 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 bullets, 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 that 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 as she was 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 of wood outwards that made 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 during their earlier confrontation with Bob and his men, was making up for lost time. The helmsman was aiming the sawn off shot gun 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 had 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. It took a little more than a second for the silent  

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 using as refuge from the gunfire was becoming more and more pitted and the odds were good that eventually one of the bullet would pass through the water through 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 that was almost deafening. "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 silence reassurance that everything would be all right, once she came to him. Strangely enough, Mary seemed to believe that it would be 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 that Bob was now not simply attempting to keep Chris' companions, being Buck, Mary and Nathan from being of assistance to him but 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 the space parallel to where Mary was taking refuge and passed before, a hair's breadth away from her face. The protocol officer reacted by dropping down further in her effort 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 not allowing his rage to get the better of him but he did not care. Perhaps it was the place that he was in that made him wish to settle this entire situation in the most primeval and fundamental way that it could be resolved. The way it was done in the times before even the Old West became the legend the way 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 shoot out that could get a good number of his crew killed, including Mary. If it was Q's intention to have them perform like puppets than 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 all together. 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 had 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 for that matter, 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, beckoning 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 that 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 captain 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’ defense. Julia had tremendous faith in Chris’ 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 that his sudden desire to face Top Hat Bob in the open has 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?" She demanded. 

Ezra did not turn around but answered with just as much curt. "I do not need to explain it to you. Suffice to say, your experience is 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 could see the unresolved tension building the minute they had come into close proximity to each other. Their affection for each other was clear and thus their passion when incited, equally ablaze. He knew that a confrontation was coming and the part of him that 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 for 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 like a knife poised to strike. 

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 that 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 had been present to remind him of his duty and feeling somewhat admonished that he had 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 that their relationship had deteriorated to such a point that 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 that she was unhappy about 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 that 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 that 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 and that 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 by impersonating her. 

The passageway was so narrow that there was barely space enough for one person to walk in single file so she was fairly unconcerned as 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 half way when she realized that there a doorway along the path. She edged a little closer to it in order to see where it led, assuming it was a back door entrance that was so 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 that she was breaking captain's orders about going off on her own when Chris had made it clear that 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 had barely the 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 in her mouth. She was not helpless however. She slammed an elbow backwards, feeling the muscle that could have been a stomach being struck. There was a soft groan and quickly 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 had seen Mary being specifically targeted by Bob, he knew that whether or not this was some illusion created by Q, Top Hat Bob had crossed the line. The man had 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' terms. Men like Bob were easy to manipulate once Chris stopped thinking like a man trapped in a fantasy world and started remembering that 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 had 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 that he could be heard he called out, in answer to the anticipation felt not only be the enemy but the members of his crew who were praying that 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 had 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." Top Hat Bob sneered.  

"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' 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 think you're a coward." Chris retorted. 

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 it 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 that their captain had willingly placed himself in such danger. Josiah's look was one of concerned but he and Vin shared one thing in common, they both knew that 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 were you jus talk Larabee?" Top Hat Bob sneered and dragged Chris' 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 that Bob obviously had no knowledge of because just as the thought crossed Chris' mind, the large man rushed at him. Fear at the lack of concern in Chris' face had 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 fighting really began. 

The man threw a plump fist in Chris' direction, which he dodged easily; always 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 that the first punch was not his and further infuriated because he had cried out and revealed that 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. Chris 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 backwards. Not wasting any time, Chris was standing upright again and this time, he took the offensive as Bob attempted to recover. Despite the fact that 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 to forget that there were other skills of survival and defense. That advantage was all that 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 backwards 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 the 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 leapt 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 that 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 in to 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 that 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.

Part Nine

The only description that Billy Travis was capable of making about the place he was presently residing 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 some expeditions with his mother where the device had been called into use 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 that was 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 that 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 had found that dead woman on the street. He confessed he did not like Mr. Poplar much and was glad that Josiah made him small when they had encountered each other. He felt a little apprehension when he saw Mr. Wickes trying to hurt his ma but Quinn assured him that there was nothing to worry about. After all, wasn’t she always getting into trouble in the real Magnificent Seven program? Billy knew that it was only an excuse for Chris to save her all the time.

In fact, that seemed the only reason to have women in the program at all Billy thought to himself, now that 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’ fist fight 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 that had died not too long ago. He liked Chris very much but sometimes it was not quite the same as the stoic Vulcan who had always been the paragon of what it was to be Vulcan and yet 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 answered. "How can one not exist any more? 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 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 that 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." He said after awhile.

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

"Grown up always say that." Billy remarked.

"Except that I can." Quinn met his gaze and Billy sensed that 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 that was well beyond Billy’s experience to truly understand. "Just a program."

**********

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

"What?" Chris asked as he 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 had not at all been impressed 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 holodeck had some how 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 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?" He asked.

"Well she was right behind us when Chris was fighting it out with Bob." Josiah answered automatically and then realized that he had not really seen where the Chief Engineer had gone to other than that memory.

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

"He might have taken her." Nathan suggested, aware that 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 first 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 made the Borg aware of the Federation, the Klingon Empire and the even the Romulan Star Empire. It had changed the course of Alpha Quadrant politics when the powers that be realized that there were things in space far more terrifying than their petty rivalries with each other.

Chris considered that possibility for the moment and then decided that it was unlikely. Since they had been brought here, one things 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 had set for them, not take part in it himself. If Julia was gone, it was more likely to do with the villains that had been 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 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 that they knew they were no longer dealing with holograms but real human beings, he had not choice but to consider it. That girl he had found in the street, however she had come to being had been alive when her life was stolen from her so cruelly. Nathan was certain that to her killer, the possibility that 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." He explained.

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

"A girl," Josiah continued. "Young, pretty, she had been 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 in the eyes.

"Well if it’s a classical reference, it could mean that 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?" His voice was barely a whisper as he made that demand.

"More than likely cause this don’t sound like something Wickes would do." Buck spoke up; hating to admit that Nathan could be right but the truth was Wickes had not seen Julia with him, just Mary and Alex. It made far more sense that 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 had seen 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 that was stalking women about town and murdering them. "We need to start looking for her now."

"Lieutenant Commander," Chris said sharply and reminded Ezra that he was security chief and nothing would be served in they all descended into a 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 that could bring the real Ezra Standish to surface, not the cold, hard cynic they had come to know but the person that existed deep beneath that jaded exterior. When he finally met the captain’s eyes, Ezra noted the sympathy being exhibited by his friends for his pain and Ezra felt strangely comforted by it. "I apologize." He said evenly.

"Its okay," Chris responded automatically. "Now we can’t assume that 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 knew that if it were Rain in the same unfortunate circumstances, he would be as unhinged as Ezra. "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 the body."

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

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

"Sorry," Nathan apologized, feeling a little mortified by his insensitivity. "However, we also need to keep in mind that if he is responsible for Julia’s disappearance, he may have bitten of 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 19^th century, she’s from the 24^th 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 the 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 this killer 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 because 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 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 had been distant and tolerable soon felt as if a thunderstorm was rumbling inside her mind. She did not know she had groaned when she first felt it but there was a sound so she supposed she must have made it.

Her throat felt parched and sluggish and when she lifted her head, fresh pain assailed her once more and force 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 cavalcade of scents. She tried to identify the acrid smell that had roused her from her sleep and could not quite place it at first. Then Julia felt something warm and slick running through her scalp and was 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 of doing. 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, chaffing her flesh as she tried to loosen them enough so that she might free herself. After a few seconds, Julia discovered to her growing concern that the ropes were tied with exceptional skill, ensuring that 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 that it never occurred to she had been watched. She looked up slowly and also realized that she was in a church, specifically Josiah’s church. During her visits to the program, she had 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."

Part Ten

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

Even though it was dangerous to do so, Ezra knew that there was one place he could launch his search for Julia Pemberton and that was where she had been last seen. Although he was mindful that 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 had returned to the narrow alleyway where Julia had disappeared, there was no sign of the villains. Ezra had to assume that Bob was probably somewhere licking his wounds.

"She was standing right here." Josiah told Alex and Nathan once they had returned to the small alley behind which Josiah, Ezra and Julia had taken refuge when the shooting between Bob's men and the seven had broken 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 that was at times unlike 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 ground and had a very good idea that 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 that would indicate that except some unevenness that was deeper in some places then 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 uncomfortable about Julia's situation for some reason. She almost wished that Mr. Wickes had the chief engineer in his hands. At least, they could be assured that 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 advancement 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 24^th century vigilance. In the 20^th 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 that was 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, although in this instance the killer had been doing it 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 that Julia had 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, examined 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. Finger print evidence was only useful if the murderer had had a prior record and in this day and age, where finger printing 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 had disappeared from this place and 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 and when Josiah followed his gaze and realized what it was that had captured his attention, could understand why Ezra was so horrified by what he had seen. Josiah swallowed and found his voice after a few seconds.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked in a low whisper.

Alex who had 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 entirely as if he 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," he reminded Ezra.

"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 it we had our tricorders, this might be so much simpler."

"Alright," Alex tried to take the initiative, aware of the emotional turmoil that Ezra must be 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 had sparked his mind into working again. "Do not forget at the time of her abduction, we were engaged in a rather nasty fire fight 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 that led 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 that the man was carrying her, so she was likely rendered unconscious in this tiny little annex, no doubt when she was force to suffer the injury that left her blood on the wall. A cold sliver of ice had burrowed into his heart and no matter what he told himself, Ezra knew it would not go away until after Julia was found.

"We will begin searching." Ezra replied, snapping out of his dark thoughts regarding his lover’s fate. He had to have hope that 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 in would be to destroy the fantasy and he can’t have that. It would take the satisfaction out of the killing and he can’t have that."

"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 from when Josiah was relating the events of what happened when he had first emerged into Q’s playground.

"Yes," Josiah nodded. "Perhaps, he may have some idea about tracking this man that 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 that he’s been on the killer’s trail for sometime 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 20 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 at their lack of progress and knew that 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 and 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 that 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 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 that perhaps 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 to 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 towards her. 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, to build into a swell of rage that could culminate in venting all that repressed desire upon her. Julia was smart enough and realistic enough to know that she would not survive that 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 his insistent caress of the rope in his hand become more and more urgent. The need was upon him and she could tell that he had crossed a line in himself, a line that once left behind allowed him no way to turn back until he had fed the monster inside him.

When he was close enough, she kicked out her foot suddenly. The heel connected the curved bone of his ankle and she heard him yelped in pain. Instinctively, he raised his injured ankle and when he did so, Julia kicked out again, this time ensuring that that her foot landed just above his knees. Her kick was strong and desperate, with more than enough force behind him to sweep his feet from under him. Julia did not wait to see him fall. She rolled around 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, she heard scuffling sounds that 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 that 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 lose. She had taken no more than two or three steps when she felt his hand fist up around her ankle and yank back sharply. Julia was unable to prevent herself from falling 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 too 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 line. She was aware of crying out as the blows dislodged teeth and felt the blood swelling in her bruised face as he continued to pummel her, unaware of what he was doing because her audacity to fight back had inspired such a mountain of rage inside him. She had dared to destroy the fantasy he had prepared for them both and for that she would pay dearly. Her cries of pain soon disintegrated into whimpers of agony. She did not know how much damage he had caused, only aware that somewhere during the beating, she could no longer see and the smell of blood was filling her lungs with such entirety that 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 that 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 that 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, he did 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 for 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 that certain things became clear. Julia thought about her ship and her friends and 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 deliberating sounds that echoed sinister intent with every new 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." She croaked softly.

 The constriction around her thought 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, even though it would mean little to him because 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 that she could not inhale to take air into her lungs. Her mind started to fog over as the lack of oxygen began descending her into the grey numbness of brain asphyxia. She began to choke and as her heaving grew more frantic and desperate, it appeared that tightening became more insistent until finally she could take nothing in nothing at all and breathes became ragged gasps that seemed to fill her world. For a time, she could not focus Ezra in her head as she battled for the last minutes of light that was 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 the unbeatable card sharp at the poker table and 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 that had drawn the attention of the townsfolk. Ezra could not bring his legs to move any faster perhaps 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 his was quivering with fear.

He knew what he was going to find even before he reached the crowd and knowing 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 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 had been searching for Poplar and their lack of success had brought them into the streets where they noticed the crowd that had formed and realized that they had been too late. Nathan was leaning over the body and Josiah looked up to see Ezra breaking the circle of spectators to see what they had.

"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 that she had been the beautiful woman that 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 that had been 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, 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 that he had loved to feel against his skin when she kissed him. He ran his hand against her cheeks and did not care that 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 that though she could not 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."

Part Eleven

"Where is he?" Chris Larabee asked of Josiah Sanchez who 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 group of officers with him had been attempting to discern the exact whereabouts of Mr. Wickes. They had discovered that after his confrontation with Buck and Mary, 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 had been 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 that Q often like to take the part of a bystander who could witness the play he had set into motion without actually taking centre stage. Since he had not shown himself during Chris' confrontation with Bob and Chris doubted that he could play much of a bystander with a serial killer, so that only left Mr. Wickes.

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

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

Chris nodded slowly and then asked again. "How is he?" He ventured more gingerly even though he knew that it was somewhat of a foolish question. He knew precisely what it was like to lose the woman that he loved and Chris' 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 that 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 had learnt enough about the man to know that 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 had been anything but easy. His official record read more like sordid fiction than an account of someone's life.

Ezra had grown on the pleasure cruise circuit. His mother, a fortune hunter of some sort, who traveled across the galaxy, dragging her son with her to every place that, might produce get rich quick schemes. There were several husbands after the Starfleet officer who had been her first and Ezra's father. They remained fleetingly for it was soon obvious to them that only one man had Maude Standish' heart. Her son. They moved through this precarious state of existence, something rich, sometimes not but always on the move. The advantage to this uneasy life was the fact that while he was traveling 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 that he was entering Starfleet Academy. It must have been one hell of a surprise. Until that point, Ezra had either been assisting in his mother's schemes or playing the tables himself and as a card player; he had no peer anywhere. Like someone said, Ezra made the Ferengi cry. Nevertheless, Ezra had made it to the Academy on scholarship alone and accepting his lecturer's recommendations that his talents lay in security, Ezra had never looked back.

Chris had met him when he was a lieutenant and even then his canny sense was standout among the security officers stationed on the Yorktown. At the time, Chris had been a 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 that 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 left lasting impression on each of their minds. Chris had lost crew men 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 had passed.

Josiah exchanged a glance with Alex before the Counselor shook his head slowly. "She was strangled and she did have the trade mark 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 onto the floor of the saloon and immediately captured the attention of Ezra. 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 that could indicate that he had lost the love of his life. Chris admired his ability to control his emotions.

"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 and Chris would not take that away from him when the captain was certain that it was all that was holding Ezra's composure 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." Ezra replied after a moment. "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 that 'the body' he was speaking about was not Julia. Julia was dead. That lifeless figure he had seen 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 a precipice, that would allow the pain swallow him whole should he chose 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 that he might know more about this killer than I do. I am endeavoring to locate him."

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

"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 that 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 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 bat wing 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 that better than anyone else. However, when he stepped past the doors onto the wooden walkway that ran before the saloon, Ezra realized that Josiah and Alex were not talking to Chris or any orders regarding himself but to a stranger.

Alex turned to him as he approached and announced. "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 inside of him 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 is he inspired, Ezra could not say for certain but there is a moment when between men where battles 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 that I was too late to prevent the latest infraction." Ezra remarked, no sign of Julia's death on his face but rather cool detachment that showed both Alex and Josiah that his 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 and often found themselves on the same side of any debate when it came to the security of the Maverick. A strange happenstance when their individual roles on the ship was 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 Mr. Sanchez that inspires your interest?" Ezra asked, wanting to see his reaction of 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 that 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 that you might have committed these crimes simply because you happened to be in the same place at the same time?"

Poplar seemed outraged by that suggestion and his face turned red from indignation. "I have been tracking these 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 could look straight past his eyes and know with absolute certainty that he had been shaken.

"I see." Ezra nodded and then asked once more. "You say that 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. Its 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 surprise. When he realized that the gambler was staring at him hard, Poplar recovered quickly and produced another quick answer. "You must be the famous gambler Ezra that 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 that he had managed to escape unscathed from that particular minefield.

Alex's eyes widened and she 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 town," Ezra continued. "Everyone is aware of everyone and any hasty departures may caused undue incrimination."

Poplar's smile faded from view. "I am at your disposal of course." The man replied. "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 be 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 had 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 sight. 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 that 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 had been conducting his interrogation, Josiah had been studying Poplar's behavior and everything he had seen confirmed the worst.

"I think you are right. When we confronted him about being the killer, he was more than a little defensive, not the outrage of innocence but that of a defensive nature. 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 that 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." She declared.

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

Part Twelve

He knew with every fiber of his being that 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, 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 had disappeared from their midst, Ezra regarded his companions. For the moment, Nathan was conducting his examinations on the body of Julia Pemberton and Ezra would prefer to leave him to his work until he was ready to submit his findings. As emotionally restrained as he was, even Ezra could not promise that he would not crumble if he was forced to look at that life form again. As it is, he was numb inside. The pain he felt had turned the rest of him to stone and would remain so until he was allowed to mourn her.

"Commander," Ezra glanced at 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 that 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 had suffered when she had been 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 will be 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 he was thinking of and felt mortified by his insensitivity. "Ezra, I’m sorry……"he started to stay but the security chief merely shrugged of 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," she replied confidently. "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 today would begin. It seemed the logical choice because the saloons in small town like this were the hub of information. There was not much that went on in Four Corners that escaped the eyes of its patrons and if Poplar had been genuine in his inquiries, then they would know about it.

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

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

"You my friend are going back to your church." Ezra instructed. "I am uncertain of whether or not Poplar suspects we believe him to be the killer, chances are good that he does. If that is the case, then the only way he can be certain of leaving Four Corners is to ensure that someone else is implicated for the crime. Since he has already made it clear that you are the prime suspect, then 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 to be yourself."

Josiah shuddered inwardly while at the same thing 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 that it is best that I stay put, I’ll do that." Josiah complied. "What are you going to do?"

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

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

**********

From inside their hiding place, Billy Travis started to develop the strange idea that perhaps this was not a game. He watched with increasing horror the trials that 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 had all began, it seemed like so much fun and it was. He had found a new friend who seemed just as neglected and forgotten as he was. Quinn had listened to his stories about Chris and the others avidly and when the boy had brought forward this holodeck reality for them to watch closely the activities of the captain and the others, it had been fun because Billy had 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 that his mother could be so resourceful. He had only thought that Commander Styles could fight like that and wondered briefly, what else his mother could do that he knew nothing about. However, when Poplar turned up on the scene, it was very evident that 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 had elected to add Poplar to the stable of Magnificent Seven villains but it was clear that the man was far more dangerous than any gun-totting criminal that had so far been dispatched.  

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

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

"You don’t learn by making someone die!" Billy cried exasperated unable to believe that Quinn could not understand this and feeling 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 that this was a part of the simulation, that 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 that not only Julia could die, everyone including his mother could fall prey to the same fate as the Chief Engineer. The idea that his mother could disappear from his life as surely as his father had was too much for Billy. When his father had died, Billy wanted to die too. He had been 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 had entered his life, Billy had not realized how much of a void Syan’s death had left in him. However, nothing could replace the vortex of despair that would exist inside of him 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 other children, he could not always rely on her to hold him in her warm arms and make all the fear and pain disappear into a far distant place where he could tolerate it. 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 had never experienced it, he could unwillingly 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 retorted. "That’s not fun at all. I want this to stop before any one else gets hurt."  

"I want to play still." Quinn said defiantly, his lip 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 fears of trying 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!" Billy shouted. 

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

 Not caring that he could be hurt almost as badly 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 that awaited him once he stepped into its hallowed walls again. The signs of violence that was left behind in the wake of Julia’s death was an affront to what the place was meant to symbolize and 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 presence of the evidence before him that what took place here had been unexpected. No doubt, the site had been chosen in order to implicate him and since he knew that he was suspect to no one by 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 Ezra would resent it if he thought that 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 that no amount of scrubbing could ever do. Josiah saw the shredded remains of rope, covered in blood where it no doubt had 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 Alex who was presently 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 at times. Although he knew he should have brought his thought to Ezra first, Josiah had Alex was capable of keeping a cooler head unless of course it involved a Cardassian Gul who had once been 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 as he approached, when suddenly he noticed a large burly man approaching the two women. Judging by the stagger in the man’s walk, Josiah guessed that 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 bated. 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 and had no difficulty furnishing it 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 had been 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 then turned 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 that was left inside him at remaining conscience. 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 here?" She asked sweetly. 

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 woman and gave Alex a look which bordered on disapproval and amusement. 

"What?" Alex shrugged innocently.  

"Nevermind," Josiah shook his head and remembered that he was here on serious matters, 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." 

Alex was already embarking upon that course. It made perfect sense that Julia would have been killed in Josiah’s church when Poplar was trying to implicate him for the murders. If not for the fact that she and Ezra could vouch for the Counselors whereabouts, those who sat in judgment would have every reason to believe that it was true. However, Poplar had not counted on Josiah having an alibi and thus in turn had left the stain of guilt very firmly on himself. Only someone who was as verbal as Poplar had been that Josiah had been responsible could have planted the evidence. No one else in Four Corners suspected the preacher, only Poplar. 

"We better find Ezra, where is he?" She asked. 

"He’s tailing Poplar, making sure that 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?" Alex stared. 

"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 that 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 that he must have changed his clothes at some point today so that no one would suspect. 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 notices." 

"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 don’t think he’d be stupid enough to risk being seen while throwing them away. I think that he’s arrogant enough to believe that no one would suspect him that he would wait until it was safe to take care of that 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 that 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." Alex nodded. "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 here. Due process may take a battering but at least its better than a bunch of innocent women who would 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.

PART THIRTEEN

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