Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide. The same goes for all characters from Time Trax, which belong to Gary Nardino Productions Inc and Lorimar Television. All characters and situation from Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgement Day is the property of Carolco Pictures and Corolco International.
Authors Note: Herešs something different. This is a cross over between Time Trax, Terminator and M7. I have tried to make the three universes as cohesive as possible, so if youšre prone to picking out faults as a rule, I donšt want to know. This is written to be enjoyed and while I accept constructive criticism, please remember that all fiction requires some suspension of belief. If you want realism, look at newspaper. This is just for fun.
It had been almost two years since he last encountered Doctor Mordicai Sahmbi, and Darien Lambert had sworn then that should he meet the doctor again, it would be the last time. However, time was no longer a constant and Darien was faced with the knowledge that his old hatreds would have to be put aside for the good of all. Almost afterFor almost a week following his return from California, Darien found it difficult to focus on anything in light of what he had learnt before the time ripple had altered the flow of events.
The course before him was painfully clear, but it was its undertaking that was the harder puzzle. Although he had no substantial proof that a Terminator had altered the time line in 1878, Darien knew without doubt that this is how the corruption had originated. The gunslinger Christopher Larabee had been terminated before he was allowed to father any children, effectively erasing from existence Kyle Reese's entire family line. Thus Kyle would not return to father John, and John would not be born to eliminate Skynet.
And Darien's future would never exist.
It had taken some doing, with whispers in the right ears and shaking down all his contacts. Darien was taking a gamble in doing this but he had not choice. Somehow, he had to make it reach to the year 1878, and return if possible. There was a part of him that felt some excitement about returning to what was deemed the Old West. In his youth, he had dreamt of being from that time, even though he wished his visit was not under these circumstances. Normally, he would have contacted TRAX control to aid him in this endeavourendeavor but TRAX control no longer existed.
A week after the initial attempt, Darien found himself waiting in a darkened alley in the dead of night. As he paced the crack of space in between the abandoned buildings, he made sure that his weapons was nestled safely in its holster. Selma was keeping a vigil on the surrounding area and would be quick to inform him if any harm appeared eminent. In the distance he could hear the sounds of engines moving up and down the streets despite the late hour. Sahmbi's choice of meeting place left something to be desired, and Darien guessed that isolation was the key factor. He did not doubt that Sahmbi would not be alone, and that his men required the freedom to shoot Darien down if necessary.
"Captain." Selma said quietly. "I detect three men approaching this location."
"Okay." Darien took a deep breath and wished he had not because he could smell the vile odourodor of garbage wafting from the dumpster at the end of the alley. He checked his gun once more and was reassured by its presence as he waited for Sahmbi and his men to arrive.
"Captain, are you sure this is a wise idea?" She asked uncertainly.
"No I'm not," he said honestly, becoming aware of the footsteps approaching that did not belong to the scampering rats that moved along the greys walls, feasting on garbage and refuse. "But I don't have much of a choice. The only person who knows anything about time travel in this day and age is Sahmbi."
"But you cannot assume that Doctor Sahmbi will assist you, even if there is a way to send you back to that time period."
"True," Darien agreed. "But Sahmbi has got as much to lose as the rest of us when Judgement Day comes."
The footsteps were very close now and Darien turned around to meet them. He saw three figures emerged through the light mist. The men flanking the doctor were well armed beneath their long coats, that much Darien could tell. They were tall and muscled, no doubt a product of 22nd century genetic enhancement. Sahmbi on the other hand did not look as well preserved. His balding head of hair was greying and there seemed to be more lines than normal in his craggy features.
Darien met his gaze and forced away images of how this man had killed Elyssa so long ago and changed the course of his life in one terrible stroke. Desperation had forced him to call this temporary truce with Sahmbi because the fate of humanity outweighed his own desire for revenge. Although it had seemed simple enough to bear in theory, now that he was forced to meet Sahmbi face to face, Darien found himself fighting the urge to shoot him with a TXP pellet and send the man back to the 22nd century.
"Darien Lambert, its been a long time." Sahmbi said coolly. "To what do I owe the honour of this meeting?"
"You can relax Sahmbi," Darien retorted wearily, not liking this situation any more than the doctor. He could almost guess that Sahmbi was here mostly more out of curiosity than anything else. Like every scientist, Sahmbi was drawn to riddles, and Darien's request for this meeting had inspired his curiosity. "I don't intend to bring you in."
"Not that you could." Tthe doctor replied, indifferent to Darien's gesture to put him at ease as he glanced at the two men beside him. Just to prove his point, they opened their coats long enough to show Darien that they were well armed as a warning to him to not try anything.
"I didn't come here to fight." Darien reaffirmed his earlier statement, deciding he was not going to get into mindless posturing with the doctor. "Something's happened Sahmbi, something that effects us all." At the moment, they were in same proverbial boat and there was little time to waste. "There's been a corruption of the time line."
That was a serious matter indeed and Darien's saw the reaction, though slight, that gave him Sahmbi reason to raise his brow in concern. "How badly?" He asked without even requesting the proof. Darien supposed that as the leading mind, present or future, in temporal mechanics, Sahmbi more than anyone in existence, knew the full ramifications of such an event.
"I had an officer from the Fugitive Retrieval Unit risk a third exposure to TXP, just to come back and tell me that the 22nd century is now inhabited by a machine intelligence. Mankind, as we know it, is extinct." Darien answered, holding nothing back.
Although Sahmbi showed little reaction, Darien saw the alarm crossing the faces of the two men beside him. The idea that the future had become a nightmarish world of sentient mechanization was a terrifying possibility. While Darien decided that full disclosure was necessary at this point, he did not tell Sahmbi, the real identity of Sarah and John Conner, offering false names in place. If he was to reset the time line, he had no intention of allowing Sahmbi to use them for his own purposes later on.
Sahmbi listened intently, saying nothing as Darien told him about Skynet and Judgement Day, which was now seven short months away. When he was done, he noticed that the two men beside Sahmbi was were decidedly nervous, even though the doctor remained calm as ever. "Do you have any other proof beyond this woman's word that this nuclear holocaust is coming?"
"Warburton died trying to bring news of that back to me." Darien insisted. "I saw what the third exposure did to him Sahmbi, that's not something I would want to endure for any reason. Despite the consequences to himself, he believed it enough to come back and warn me. Also, Miles Dyson is now alive. According my information regarding our time line, Miles Dyson died three years ago, blowing up the Cyberdine building. Not only is the Cyberdine building now very much intact, but as we speak, Dyson is working on a top secret project for the US government."
For the first time, Sahmbi looked troubled. He had escaped into time for a new future, but he always warned those he sent to the 20th century the dangers of meddling with history. Alter one event and one might find themselves erased from existence or worse. It was one thing to take advantage of their knowledge of future events to become self-sufficient, but it was another thing to manipulate its course. Time was a fragile thing and small ripples could culminate into earth shattering repercussions.
"Assuming that any of this is true, what do you need from me?" Sahmbi looked at him, finally reaching the heart of the matter.
"I think the focal point is a man called Reese." Darien explained. "His entire lineage was wiped out starting from the late 1800's. According to the records of our time line, his descendants survived in the 22nd century. Whatever's happened, I think it started with that disruption."
"That does make some sense, although I would prefer more empirical evidence on which to base that assumption." Sahmbi nodded, sounding very much more like a scholar now than a criminal genius. He was starting to see where Darien was going with this line of reasoning but he would nevertheless enjoy hearing his nemesis ask first.
"I need to be able to go back to the 1800's and keep this ancestor of Reese's' from being killed. I need the best mind in temporal mechanics for that." Darien found himself admitting begrudgingly. He wondered if Sahmbi had any idea how hard it was for him to keep from beating the crap out of the doctor before sending him on his way. Every time he looked at Sahmbi, he was revisited by images of Elyssa dying while he watched helplessly as she slipped away.
"I am flattered," Sahmbi said with a brow raised. "It was not easy coming to me I imagine."
Darien's eyes were almost black when he answered. "You have no idea. I want to kill you for what you did to Elyssa."
For the first time, Sahmbi's expression darkened. "Likewise Darien." He said coldly. "She was always mine first."
"Elyssa was never yours." Darien spat with unrestrained anger. "She belonged to neither of us and she deserved to live."
"Touched a nerve I see." Sahmbi retorted with some satisfaction. "However, this bickering is pointless. I have no guarantee that anything you say is true, but unfortunately, I am well aware that distortions in the time line have to be taken on faith. TXP is capable of shielding us from temporal flux, which is why it is so perfect for time travel, so I know that much of your story is true. I also know that you despise me with every fibrefiber of your being, so coming to me for help must mean that there is something going on that exceeds even your need for vengeance. If nothing else Darien, I trust your hate."
Darien was not going to argue with this twisted piece of logic. "So the question is, what can you do about it?" Darien met his eyes like a gauntlet of challenge.
"I can do quite a bit if you are ready to take a ride with me." Sahmbi responded.
Darien knew he would have to trust Sahmbi at some point if the man was able to help him. It just required him to suspend his innate distrust of the man and all of the other darker impulses that seethed within whenever Mordicai Sahmbi's name was mentioned. Taking a deep breath, Darien knew he had no other choice.
Not if he wanted to help Sarah and John Conner.
"Alright," he nodded, hoping this was not a fatal mistake. "Let's take a ride."
Sahmbi's idea of a ride was slightly more complicated then that. Travelling in a stretched limousine, Darien accompanied Sahmbi to the airport where a chartered jet was waiting. Thanks to regular trips to the bathroom where he could confer with Selma, Darien learnt that Sahmbi was taking them towards Reno, Nevada. Their conversation during the trip was limited to discussions of the time ripple and the corruption that had occurred. Utilizing the on board computer on Sahmbi's plane, a system that was not dissimilar from Selma, Darien and the doctor were able to learn that Miles Dyson's project had expanded beyond their ability to contain it, should they decide to attack the problem from that angle. The SAC NORAD system that Miles Dyson had created was well on its way to being integrated into the US defence network computers.
In less than seven months, the system would come on line and Skynet would be born. Twenty days after that initialization, Skynet would become self-aware and decide the fate of humanity on August the 29th, and Judgement Day would become a reality.
Upon arriving at a private airport in Reno, used mostly by Mob dignitaries Darien was sure, another limousine awaited in attendance and then drove them to a large warehouse on the outskirts of the garish city. So far, Sahmbi had made no threatening moves against him, and had to this point, kept faith in accordance with their temporary truce. Despite everything that depended upon his cooperation with Sahmbi, Darien wanted nothing to do with the man.
The warehouse was guarded by every extravagance in 20th century security systems. Electricity and barbed wire made the fence surrounding the facility lethal to anyone who attempted to go through it or over it. Formidable looking security guardsed patrolled the grounds, carrying heavy assault rifles with dogs sniffing the ground for any unfamiliar scent. As the limousine passed through the sentry posts, Darien wondered what was so important about this place that demanded such extreme measures to protect it.
They finally entered the main warehouse and had to pass through several more security points where Darien observed everything from motion detectors to sensors that detected variations in air density and temperature, controls to more guards at every corner. What on Earth did Sahmbi have hidden away in this place? More importantly, how had he found the financing to pay for all this? Judging by the way he was regarded, it was obvious that Sahmbi was the man in charge, and by the looks of it, paying the bills as well.
"Well Sahmbi," Darien admitted as they stood before a metal door with a the thickness of a vault hatch. "You've got me suitably intrigued. What's the purpose of all this? The whole building says 'go away'."
Sahmbi allowed himself a smile as he slipped his card into a slot for a control panel on the wall next to the doorway. The keypad came alive as Sahmbi keyed in the appropriate code. A low hum preceded the sound of a locking mechanism clicking into place activating and the thick door swung open. Darien followed Sahmbi into the room beyond; his question still unanswered by the doctor. The moment Darien looked inside the confines of the room, he understood at last what Sahmbi was protecting with such diligence. Although the memory was four years behind him, Darien remembered every detail with utmost clarity. He saw a dozen or more personnel, wearing their white coats as they conducted their work at their computer stations. Almost all turned towards the doctor upon his arrival, even though Darien's eyes were firmly focused on the machine occupying the centre of the room.
"TRAX." He exclaimed before moving looking to Sahmbi's eyes for confirmation. In truth, he needed no such confirmation. The Transtime Research And eXperimentation unit was exactly as he remembered it, and judging by the state of it, the device was in complete operation.
"It's taken me two years of funding to complete it." Sahmbi said, undeniably proud of it as he walked towards the TRAX machine.
"How did you pay for it?" Darien demanded, remembering how Sahmbi had managed his funding back in the 22nd century.
"You don't seriously expect me to answer that question." Sahmbi retorted. "Just be grateful that it is fully functioning and will have no trouble sending you back to the 19th century.
Darien frowned. He did not like the ominous implications of those words, but decided that Sahmbi was correct in the respect that he ought to be grateful that there was a way to return to the past to repair the damaged time line. "How grateful should I be for a one way trip?" Darien mumbled, realizing that if he did go back to 1878, it would be to stay. The possibility had loomed in his mind for a week now, but had not seemed more real than at this moment.
"Well that may not be necessarily so, if you wish to play my guinea pig." Sahmbi declared as Darien followed him to the TRAX device. "Until now, the TXP dosage had been limited to two teleportation trips." Sahmbi explained. "However, I have been working the past three years to refine the process significantly. I understand that you've been exposed only once only."
"That's right." Darien answered, trying not to feel a glimmer of hope from such an ambiguous source. He supposed if anyone could devise a way for him to return to the 20th century, it would be Sahmbi. However, Darien wished his only way back did not have to involve his placing his trust in the doctor with whom he had crossed swords with on so many occasions.
"Well I've refined the TXP," Sahmbi remarked as he paused at workbench and pulled out a vial of white powdery substance. "This batch is experimental and I have yet to test it on a human subject. You will be happy to know that the results with laboratory animals have proved encouraging." He smiled with an obvious enjoyment at Darien's discomfort at having to trust him. "However, the data does show that the TXP leaves none of its previous toxic effects. So you may be able to make a round trip without risk of cellular degradation."
"How do I know this isn't a trick?" Darien looked at him suspiciously. If Sahmbi wanted to get rid of him once and for all, this was the perfect opportunity.
Sahmbi let out a weary sigh like he was dealing with an unlearned child. "Believe me, if I wanted to kill you I would find more expedient ways than using a million dollar machine. Now, I am willing to send you back in time and forward again because it benefits me to do so. I do not wish to see my hard work for the past four years come to end in a scant six months, nor do I wish to exist in the 1800's, as enchanting as the idea might seem. Since the 22nd century is no longer what it used to be, it appears that I must trust that you are capable to of correcting the time line."
He had a point, event thought admitting it left a terrible taste in Darien's mouth. "Alright, I guess I don't have a choice, do I?"
Sahmbi looked at him with dark eyes. "I guess not."
And the truth was, he didn't.
God, she loved this man.
Mary Travis found herself thinking as Chris Larabee kissed her hard, his tongue probing deep into her mouth as her legs tightened around his waist. Her fingers raked across the smooth skin of his back, luxuriating in the feel of taut muscle while his chest pressed hard against her breasts. The covers over their hot bodies felt constrictive and unconsciously, she flung, allowing the crisp linen to form an unruly heap on the floor.
He was inside her and had been for some time now, rocking back and forth in hard, forceful thrusts that was were driving her insane with pleasure. Mary could hear his strained breath in her ear, while his fingers delighted in the feel of her soft golden hair. Chris' eyes were closed as he struggled to control his own needs in his wish to please her. It filled Mary with deep abiding love to know that it was important to him that she enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he did.
And Chris truly was gifted in doing that the way she had never experienced with Steven. He was able to bring her to such dizzying heights so quickly that Mary could still hardly believe it. How many times had he been able arouse her to the point where she was barely conscious of anything except the exquisite sensation of him inside her while experiencing the expert caresses of those gentle hands at the same time?
Mary could start to feel herself start slipping over the edge as the sensations began to overwhelm her with such wanton desire that she could do nothing but moan softly with her head pressed against the pillow, her body arching to his wonderful rhythm. She was hardly aware that she was now moving with him, like dancers to a song only they could hear. She felt herself stiffening in taut pleasure as he pushed harder into her. Each stroke was nothing short of bliss and her incoherent cries only served to increase his momentum until they were both gasping out loud in a duet of ecstasy.
Chris let himself soak up the moment, forcing himself to stay focussed because the exquisite sensation of her made it terribly easy for him to lose control. It could sweep him away like a man caught in a tidal wave. The ease in with which it was possible for it to shatter his entire body was such that he was gasping with her and not caring if it was too open a display of his own needs. Chris did not care, as long as he would did not succumb, not until she was ready. For him, the sweetest part of their love making came when he would hear his name spill from Mary's lip in mindless pleasure.
Suddenly, her cries for him not to stop ceased, followed by the familiar contraction of inner muscles that preceded the peak of her arousal. When Chris saw her blue grey eyes glisten and her felt her body shudder beneath him, a low guttural sound escaped his throat and he finally submitted to the release of his own pent up desire. The warmth of his seed filled her insides as he groaned softly, feeling himself descend from the crest of raw, sensual pleasure he had been riding. Mary whimpered softly when he collapsed on top of her, thoroughly spent, their bodies glistening with perspiration in the heat of the fading summer's night.
For a long while, they lay there against the sheets plastered to their bodies, holding each other. It was always quiet after Chris and Mary had enjoyed each other so explicitly. There was almost an understanding between them that words were not necessary after such a passionate exchange. In silence, Chris would marvel at how it felt just as intense and passionate as that first time when they had made love on the floor of her parlourparlor. He could feel utterly drained but he would still want her again and again. Chris knew with certainty that he would never tire of wanting her. Even if every outlaw in the Territory was to come busting through that door at this instant, Chris would probably light a cigarette and tell them to take a number.
"Feeling better?" He whispered in her ear as they slid into a spooning position. Chris loved the smell of her skin after sex.
"I feel terribly refreshed Mr Mr. Larabee." She purred softly, a smile of satisfied contentment on her face.
"I aim to please ma'am." He joked and heard her laugh. He was pleased that she appeared to be feeling somewhat better than she had all day. Mary had not been feeling very well lately and the dark shadows under her eyes gave him reason for concern. It hardly surprised him that she should be so exhausted, considering what her days involved the past weeks. Aside from running the Clarion News, Mary's son Billy had been home from school break and required her juggling her responsibilities as mother and businesswoman. Fortunately, Chris had been able to lighten that load somewhat since the boy delighted in spending time with him, even before Chris and Mary had become intimately involved.
"You are so accommodating." She smiled warmly and averted her gaze after a moment. Mary could see the concern in his eyes for her and wished she could allay his fears, but found that she could barely do the same for herself. For the last few days, a terrible suspicion had been gnawing at her insides and it was only fear that kept her from finding out the truth about it. It was not really a disaster of any magnitude but if what she suspected were true, it would have far reaching consequences in both their lives.
She supposed that in the nature of things, it was inevitable this would happen. After all, how many nights like this had they shared since that first time? Her behaviourbehavior was hardly proper, she knew that, but he was so addictive and her love for him had clouded her better judgement. There was no doubt or hesitation when she was with Chris, and things like reputation and propriety seemed trivial and mundane. She would not trade their relationship for anything, and for the first time in so long, Mary could conceive of a future where she was not utterly alone.
For months, she had been avoiding the issue because of some unspoken fear of losing her identity. It had taken so long for Mary to learn how to be independent and self-reliant. For the first time in her life, she had been making decisions for herself, and not waiting for Steven to make them for her. She did not want to relinquish the power to decide her own fate. She knew Chris wanted to marry her and that he was uncomfortable with the situation as it stood. He was mindful of her reputation in Four Corners and worried that their nightly dalliances might become public knowledge as it had been in danger of doing so, only some short weeks ago when Victoria Kendall had tried to avenge herself upon him.
However, if what she suspected was true, then the decision was no longer in either of their hands.
Vin Tanner did not spend many nights on the open plains, but he occasionally felt the need to be alone and enjoy the wilderness without the voices of others ruining the moment. He was by nature a solitary man and had become accustomed over the years to leading a quiet existence. His occupations had always found him alone, and for a long time, Vin had been oblivious immune to the human need for companionship. Until he had arrived in Four Corners for the first time, Vin had never saw seen the need for making attachments as people had a tendency to disappoint, and he hated being disappointed on in anything. That was, however, before he met Chris Larabee and the others who made up the seven lawmen who were eventually called on to defend the town of Four Corners.
While Vin enjoyed the friendship offered by the men, he still longed for the days when he could saddle up and go riding off for a spell, without the responsibility that Chris often placed on his shoulders weighing him down. Fortunately, Chris was spending more nights in town lately, giving Vin the opportunity to catch up on some well-deserved solitude. He enjoyed sleeping under the stars, especially when summer was in its last days. The air was warm enough to enjoy without being stifling hot, and he could spend hours alone with his thoughts while the sounds of the wilderness lulled him into a comforting sleep.
He had drifted off with memories of Charlotte in his mind, remembering how they had made love under the stars during a night not too dissimilar from this one. Even though he had moved on and left her behind, Vin found stolen moments when he wondered what she was doing and was she happy in the life she had chosen for herself. She was the first woman he had truly loved, and despite advice to the contrary that she would not be the last, Vin knew that he would never be really free of her. Perhaps it was fate that he was never meant to.
A sudden crack of thunder on an otherwise clear night captured Vin's attention. The mountain man looked up from the fire cackling in the middle of his campsite to the distant plains. He could see tendrils of blue lightning flash in quick succession. Vin's brow furrowed as he saw the sky come alive with colourcolor, a strange enough occurrence when one realisedrealized there was not a cloud in the sky. The clap of thunder was close enough to send his horse into fits of panic, its frantic neighing causing him to hurry towards the animal to calm its hysteria.
"Easy there." He said soothingly, as his hand stroked the long bridge of the animal's nose. The gesture calmed the mare somewhat but not enough to remove the strain of fear he saw in her brown eyes. "Its okay," Vin whispered. "Its just a little lightning." Of course, it was a little lightning and little thunder when there was not trace of cloud in the sky or rain for that matter, but it was nevertheless nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. It was about a minute later that Vin decided he was trying to calm his own anxieties as much as the steed before him.
There was a noticeable shift in the air. He could smell something burning but knew immediately, it did not come from his fire. The scent was all wrong. It did not possessed the sooty stench of a wood burn but of something all together different. The memory of a train ride some years ago returned to Vin at the moment as he recalled the smell of heated iron. The air reeked of that same stench. The animal began to get nervous again, its front legs stamping it place as it struggled to be free of his grip on her reins. Vin was starting to become somewhat agitated himself.
"Okay stop it," he told the animal firmly. "Now you're making me nervous."
He was reluctant to let go of the reins because the mare was breathing hard and he did not have to hear it to know her heart was pounding. If he released the reins, he had no doubt she would bolt, and he did not relish the walk back to Four Corners if anything went wrong. He looked in the direction of the strange lightning and saw that all was black now. The sky was no longer luminescent and everything was as calm as it was before this whole strange incident had begun. However, the mare was still a nervous bundle and Vin Tanner had learnt enough about animals in his life to know that they were seldom wrong about their instinct for trouble.
The man came up behind him, almost soundless, while Vin's attention was preoccupied with the mare. He heard no footsteps, no familiar sounds that came with human approach, merely a flutter in the corner of his eyes. It was the first time in his life that Vin had ever experienced the unpleasant feeling of jumping out of one's skin in fright. One minute, he was alone and a second later he was not as the stranger stood before him.
First off, and most obviously, the man was naked. He was not merely undressed but bare as the day he came into the world, without a single stitch on him. It took a few seconds for Vin to absorb that first observation before the next one came upon him with similar speed. The man was big. There was not an ounce of fat on him and he was quite tall but he was also undeniably huge. Vin saw the width of the pectoral muscles stretching across his chest, flowing into the taut sinew of bicepbiceps and culminating in strong hands that would have little difficulty crushing bone.
"Howdy." Vin said cautiously and grimaced at how stupid that sounded.
The man did not speak. His dark eyes studied Vin without expression as his head titled slightly to the side, as if examining him from all angles.
"What happened to your clothes?" Vin found himself asking, deciding that it would not be rude since it was a fairly obvious observation.
There was no response, merely that indifferent mask that served only to put Vin on guard. Yet his eyes moved as Vin moved, clearly studying the mountain man with deep scrutiny.
"Are you all right?" Vin asked, thinking perhaps that this stranger may have been hurt and not all together right in the head. He seemed alert enough if somewhat distant. "Do you need a ride into town or something?"
The mare was no help whatsoever, kicking her hooves into dust even more frantically. Her breathing became more panicked until its her fear became so thick that it was and tangible that Vin could almost see it. Her eyes were widened with terror until Vin was having trouble keeping hold the reins. "What's gotten into you girl?" He called out, trying desperately to soothe her because this was the worst possible time for his horse to descend into the equivalent of a equine fit.
"You clothes." The man spoke for the first time while Vin was grappling with the mare. "I need them."
"What?" Vin looked at him in astonishment. "Listen mister, I have got problems of my own. If you care to wait a moment, I'll help you with yours but right now, I'm a little busy."
The man stepped forward without a further word and grabbed Vin by the neck before the mountain man could even see the attack coming. The grip around his throat was almost like steel and Vin's felt himself being lifted off the ground. The toes of his boots were scrapping against the gravel on the ground as he struggled to breathe. The man stared at him dispassionately as he continued to crush Vin's larynx. Vin reached for his gun and jammed the weapon into the man's chest with every intention of firing when the man flung him aside before he could pull the trigger.
The mare bolted once Vin's hold on her reins was gone and he heard her hoof beats disappear into the night as he was thrown aside like a rag doll. The weapon fell from his hand and the man waited until he landed on the ground before approaching him again. Vin lay face down in the sand, trying to catch his breath through his aching throat before he became aware that he was no longer armed. He reached into his boot to retrieve the knife he had hidden away for emergencies when the man threw a kick squarely into his face. The power behind it sent him reeling backwards, his face flaring in pain.
As Vin felt jagged fragments with his tongue that might have been his back teeth, he was overcome with a bout of nausea as his mouth filled with blood. It ran a thick rivulet down the corner of his lips and perched precariously from his chin before staining his shirt. The man approached again, relentless in his attack but eerily silent. Vin kicked out his foot and struck a knee. The stranger reacted with no more than a slight drop to his knee before standing up a second later without any ill effects. Anyone else would have been on the ground by now.
Vin rushed him in a belated attack but had barely reached the man before the enemy lashed out with one of those powerful arms and struck him in the face again. This time there was no recovery as Vin Tanner collapsed on the ground, unconscious before he even hit the dirt.
The Terminator looked at the fallen individual for a moment before his dark eyes scanned the area for the weapons the human had carried. They were crude and inefficient but would serve for the moment until he found something better. He approached the unconscious man and saw that the human still lived. Whatever threat he may have posed a moment ago was no more and the Terminator was free to continue with its objective.
However, first things first. He needed clothes.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring into the sunlight.
The sky was still blue and the sun was still shining as it probably had since time began. The terrain before him looked parched and dry, despite the trees he could see in the distance and the golden fields of sunburnt grass. There was a rugged beauty in the place that may have well been timeless, whatever the date. The plains were devoid of any signs of habitation, a good indication that his journey had brought him where he had wished to go. Nevertheless, the sight of so much open space was disturbing in a way he could not fathom. For a moment, he seemed like the only person in the world.
"Christ." Darien Lambert swore when he finally recovered from the effects of temporal displacement. It was never something he could get accustomed to, no matter how much he may believe he was prepared. He supposed in all honestly, no one could truly be prepared to have their atoms deconstructed and them then reassembled after making a voyage through time and space. It was just something they never covered at the Academy, or maybe they did and he just did not show up for the class.
"Okay Lambert," he said to himself. "We are tripping severely."
"Captain are you alright?" He heard Selma's clear, crisp voice cut through the silence of the cool morning. At least he thought it was morning anyway. Darien glanced upwards and noticed the position of the sun would seem to support that determination.
"Fine." He grimaced slightly, ignoring the throbbing inside his skull. Although it was fading quickly, Darien still disliked the discomfort. When it had diminished to tolerable levels, he took a moment to observe the surroundings. If Sahmbi's machine had worked and he had been sent back in time, then he was now in what would one day be New Mexico. Darien wished that there was someway to know this for certain without first encountering the natives, but there seemed to be little around that could expedite their query. "Just suffering a little jet lag." He responded to Selma's question regarding his welfare.
"The term in is hardly an approximation." She pointed out.
"I've got too much of a headache to quibble." Darien retorted as he took a tentative step towards the equipment that had come with him. "Can you extrapolate where we are?"
"Yes," she answered to his relief. "If Doctor Sahmbi's coordinates are to be believed then the town of Four Corners should lie in four kilometers in a north westerly direction."
"I guess I'm walking." He sighed and knelt down to the length of wooden box at his feet. Sarah had told him what she had faced when she had encountered a Terminator. Her description told him immediately that he could not hope to face it with one of the six shooters that were popular in this day and age. In fact, Darien was not even sure what he had brought with him would suffice. All he had to go on what was Sarah's description, and he hoped she had exaggerated her description of the cyborg. "I'll have to come back for this later."
"Captain, it is unwise to simply leave it behind." Selma stated. "Should anyone happen upon this, it could have severe repercussions on future events.
"I know, I know." Darien replied, knowing the argument all too well. "Relax Selma," he smiled. "I've got it covered. I got Sahmbi to include a portable holographic projector in our party list."
"I still question the trustworthiness of Doctor Sahmbi." She responded after a pause. "He has proven himself to be a most dishonest personality."
"You and me both Selma," Darien answered as he began to pull open the lid of the box. Rummaging through the stryofoam shells, his fingers touched the object he was searching for, and it required both hands to remove the projector. "However, at this moment, we haven't got a lot of choice. He got us this far, didn't he?"
"I am still uncertain if this far is where we were wishing to go."
Darien allowed himself a smile, knowing that his natural scepticismskepticism must have rubbed off on Selma, because he never remembered her being so pessimistic. The holographic projector was technology he had brought from the 22nd century. Darien had believed that Sahmbi had financed his small empire by using his newly built TRAX control to send escaping prisoners backwards and forward in time. However, the truth was much simpler. Sahmbi had been selling patents on inventions from the 22nd century. Although the patents included objects that were relatively minor in importance and were more accepted for their entertainment value, like the projector here, it was enough to make the Doctor quite wealthy without resorting to illegal enterprises.
Setting up the projector, he activated the device and the box and everything in its immediate vicinity disappeared behind the light reflection of a fallen tree trunk. It would require someone coming up to it and feeling it with their hands to realiserealize that it was nothing more than an illusion. The projector had a battery life of no more than 48 hours, and that was all the time that Darien had to return to this position and retrieve it and the other items it concealed.
"That does it for now." Darien sighed as he stepped out of the projection field. The image shimmered as he walked through it, reforming once he was clear. From a distant distance, there was nothing suspicious about it and seemed to fade into the landscape. Darien hoped it would suffice as adequate camouflage until he could return with a wagon or whatever it was they used in this area for transporting large objects.
Fortunately, he was wearing clothing to suit the times, although he now wished he had found himself a hat. The boots on his feet did not feel comfortable for walking and as he made his first steps towards Four Corners, he wished he was wearing his sneakers. "Okay Selma," he said finally. "Let's go find Mr Mr. Larabee."
"Where is he?" The man growled, his face inches away from JD Dunne's.
JD Dunne felt like a trophy about to be mounted onto someone's wall as his attacker pressed him against the bar room wall a few feet off the ground. He knew he could easily resolve this situation by drawing his guns but he was hoping to avoid resorting to that measure unless it was truly necessary. The man before him was angry and was probably justifiable in his rage, which was why JD did not want to shoot him.
"Come on, Jasper." JD said nervously. "I ain't seen Buck all morning." As soon as the word morning left his lips, JD swore at his own stupidity.
"I know where he was this morning!" Jasper slammed him into the wall again. "He was with my wife!"
JD rolled his eyes wondering how many times Buck would find himself in this situation before it sunk in that married women were bad news. JD was not that as much of a ladies man as Buck was but even in with his youthful years, he had come to the realisationrealization that married women usually had husbands who did not appreciate the dalliance. Especially ones those that came home early and caught their wives in bed with a man other than themselves, like Jasper had done this morning.
"I'm sorry but I don't know nothing." JD croaked weakly, knowing that it was a lame excuse. In truth, he had no idea where Buck Wilmington was at this moment. However, if the man had any sense at all, he would stay out of sight until Jasper Cray calmed down. Although JD was not very tall, and Jasper towered over him easily with his bulky frame and tree trunk arms. At the moment, Jasper had it in mind to do some serious dismembering, and JD had no idea how to talk him out of that particular fancy. "Look Jasper, if you don't put me down, I'm going to have to lock you up."
Jasper looked down at him like he was insane to even make such a threat before pulling back his enormous fist. JD reached for his gun, in fearful anticipation of what those knuckles would do to his face on impact. He really did not want to pull his weapon on Jasper, wishing he had the words to abate the man's anger.
"I would advise against harming the boy." JD suddenly heard Ezra's voice enter the equation calmly.
JD saw the gambler standing behind Jasper; the derringer often normally concealed under his sleeve pressed firmly against the cuckold's side. Jasper shifted his gaze at Ezra Standish who seemed entirely calm in the face of the storm raging in Jasper's eyes. "This ain't got nothing to do with you." Jasper warned, not completely unmindful of the cool steel against his skin.
"And it has nothing to do with my young friend either." Ezra stated firmly. "You are bothering my customers in my saloon and I would like you and your marital problems to depart from the presence of both."
"I want Wilmington." Jasper growled his grip around JD's throat slackening somewhat. The focus of his anger was not aimed directly at Ezra, although he was not as reluctant eager to act upon it as he had with JD.
"Mr. Wilmington," Ezra let his gaze sweep across the saloon where Josiah Sanchez and Nathan Jackson were keeping close watch on the proceedings, in case their assistance was required,. "Aas you can see, is absent."
Jasper let JD go who and he dropped to the floor with a thud. The young man was on his feet quickly, the fear in his face quickly evaporating to anger. He moved away from Jasper and took up position behind Ezra, while the gambler continued his stand off with Jasper Cray.
"Now you can cool off and have a drink on the house," Ezra said politely. "Or you can leave."
Jasper glared at Ezra, considering the options before him. Although he still looked properly enraged, enough sense had returned to him to know that should he chose to push the point, he would likely end up in a worse situation than he was already facing. An adulterous wife was something he could get over eventually, but a confrontation with the men who defended Four Corners was another thing entirely. "Drinks are watered anyway." Jasper growled and pushed his way through Ezra and JD before storming towards the door. "You tell Wilmington that this ain't over!" He shouted before he left the saloon.
It took a moment for the commotion to die away, with patrons who had been watching the excitement closely returning their attention to their drinks or the various entertainments that spanneding across the room. Ezra let out a deep breath and turned to JD. "Are you alright, my young friend?"
"I've been better." JD grumbled, disliking the fact that someone had to come his rescue yet again.
"Where is Buck anyway?" Nathan inquired now that Jasper had gone and disclosure would not cause any of his friends to suffer injury at the hands of the behemoth who was now stalking the streets of Four Corners, searching for Buck Wilmington.
"He and Chris had to deliver Ben Davies to Bitter Creek." Josiah drawled, returning his attention to the book he was reading now that the danger had passed. Ben Davies was an outlaw that had drifted into Four Corners with several outstanding warrants on his head for cattle rustling. Early this morning, Chris and Buck had set out to deliver the rustler to Bitter Creek, despite numerous protestations from Davies who claimed he was framed, even though a dozen witnesses had seen him doing the deed.
"I hear he volunteered." Nathan sniggered, knowing full well what would motivate Buck to volunteer for such a ride under the circumstances.
"If you had that monster running after you," Ezra said returning to their table,. "Wouldn't you?"
"I can't believe Buck would be afraid of that ape!" JD exclaimed, straightening his collar as he sat down and looked curiously at what Josiah was reading. Despite himself, JD could not shake the stinging insult that Jasper had delivered to his pride in front of an entire room full of people. He had been sitting at the table with his friends when Jasper had come up behind him and dragged him from the table like a sack of potatoes.
"He better be." Josiah retorted. "Nothing fires a man's rage more than the love of a woman. Buck should have known better than to involve himself with Mrs. Cray, no matter how fetching she may appear." To that no one could disagree for Mrs. Cray was a very fetching woman indeed with her strawberry gold hair and her smoulderingsmoldering blue eyes. She was shaped voluptuously and was known to be extremely accommodating in bed. While her conquests were well known around town, it was to Buck's misfortune that Jasper had caught him with her and not any of the others.
"There is something to be said about being faithful to just one woman." Nathan pointed out, deciding on that note that he might take a ride to the Seminole village to visit Rain, the girl he had met during the seven's first outing together. He felt a tinge of guilt when he realisedrealized just how long it had been since he had seen Rain and felt the idea of seeing her on the weekend become more attractive.
"If Buck knows what's good for him he'll star steer clear of both the Crays for the next month." Josiah remarked.
"Mr. Wilmington has about as much chance of staying away from the fair Mrs. Cray as a moth does from an open fire." Ezra retorted with a faint smile. "He cannot help himself." JD was about to respond in Buck's defencedefense because it he felt it his duty to for some strange reason when suddenly, he saw Vin stagger in through the bat wing doors. His eyes widened and forced the others to follow his gaze as a result of his astonished expression. Nathan was on his feet immediately and crossed the floor of the saloon to reach the bounty hunter. The saloon seemed to quiet as Vin walked in barefoot and shaken, blood drying on his face and a terrible dark bruise forming on the side of his face.
"What happened to you?" Nathan demanded, not hiding the shock on his face.
"Some bastard stole my clothes!" Vin exclaimed angrily as he felt fell into the nearest chair. If it had not been for his mare returning to him hours later, Vin would still be lying out there in the open with little on. Fortunately, his saddlebags contained a fresh set of clothes so he was at least spared the indignity of returning to town buck-naked.
"That's looks nasty." Nathan declared, taking note of the split skin just below Vin's eye. He had been struck very hard indeed and the healer did not doubt that Vin was suffering one terrible hangover, not to mention a very tender face.
"Who did this to you?" Josiah inquired as the others came to the side of their injured comrade.
"I don't know." Vin said, wincing as Nathan examined the swelling on his face. "He just came out of nowhere, naked, and told me he needed my clothes, as bold as you please." The whole encounter had unnerved Vin to some extent because he could not understand it. His clothes and his weapons were gone. "I never seen him before."
"A white man?" Josiah probed further.
"Yeah." Vin nodded as Nathan stepped back, having concluded his preliminary examination.
"Why don't you come with me to my infirmary," Nathan suggested. "You need to have that sewn up." He gestured to the gash on Vin's swollen cheek.
"I'm fine." Vin mumbled, his eyes searching the table for a glass once he had discovered a half-filled bottle. He poured himself a glass of whisky and tired to drink it down quickly when the liquid stung the raw flesh inside his mouth. He spat the fluid in all directions, causing the others to step back to avoid the spray.
"Apparently not that fine." Nathan said scepticallyskeptically and placed his hand around Vin's shoulder to indicate that he was not about to tolerate any argument from him on this matter.
"Come on Mr Mr. Tanner," Ezra took Vin's other arm in a show of agreement with Nathan's intentions. "We promise to do nothing until you return."
Vin muttered in consternation as he was led out of the saloon with Nathan and Ezra making certain that he did not change his mind on the way to the infirmary. It was rare when anything disagreed with the normally unflappable Mr Mr. Tanner to this extent, but his friends were aware of what he was capable his capabilities when his ire had been properly raised. They had no doubt that left to his own volition, Vin was more than prepared to tear the Territory apart trying to find the man who would be so low down as to steal his clothes and gun. However, though none of them voiced it, the man that could do this to Vin Tanner was not someone the tracker ought to meet when he was injured.
"I can walk fine." He grumbled, trying to dislodge Ezra and Nathan's grip from his arms.
"You keep complaining and I'll send you to Miss Styles." Nathan warned, knowing how Vin hated dealing with the lady doctor in any shape or form. Their arguments when it came to matters of health were displays Nathan enjoyed very much, even though he would voice it to neither.
"That's not funny." Vin glared at him. "That woman is meaner than a rattlesnake."
"Hey!" Ezra exclaimed in mock hurt. "I'll have you know Alexandra is nothing but sweet."
"Yeah right," Vin drawled unhappily as they left the saloon. "To another rattlesnake."
"It's early stages yet, but I would estimate about three, no more than four weeks." Alexandra Styles answered, knowing that her words would not be well received by Mary Travis.
Mary let out a breath, unaware that she had been holding it, but once it escaped her, it felt more like a gasp of fear. Her fingers dug so deep into the arm rests of the chair across from Alex's desk that she was certain her nails were leaving crescent shaped indentations in the wood. When she had come to Alex's newly established clinic, Mary had arrived in the vain hope that perhaps her suspicions were wrong and that she really did have a cold or some other ailment. For the last week, the possibility of what Alex had now confirmed as fact had gnawed at her. Before this, it had a quality of unreality that was made the notion bearable. However, knowing a thing and living with it was an were entirely different sensations, and at the moment all Mary could think of was where she could throw up.
"Oh God." Mary finally responded with visible distress.
"I don't see the problem." Alex spoke, aware enough of Mary's relationship with Chris to know that he would receive the news with elation. Although Alex had not exactly warmed to the man in black, she did know one thing for certain. This spirited blond woman before her was his universe and there was nothing he would not do for her. "He loves you. I have the impression he would be thrilled."
"He probably would be." Mary said wearily and Alex could be forgiven for thinking that way because she was right, Chris would love the idea of being a father again. Mary had seen how he wonderful he was with Billy when they were together, despite his outwardly brooding and sombresomber demeanour. Even if he rarely voiced it, Mary knew he enjoyed the time he spent with her son. Buck had told Mary how much Chris had adored his son Adam before the child's tragic death, and she had no doubt that how Chris would feel otherwise at discovering he was going to be a father again.
Except it was not Chris who had the problem, it was Mary herself.
The idea of a baby terrified her with a fear so cold and stark she could hardly breathe in knowing it was coming her way in a few short months. Suddenly, everything that she had worked for so hard was disintegrating in the gurgle of baby's smile, and Mary felt ashamed for feeling this way. She loved Billy, and motherhood was nothing new, but in the years since Billy was old enough to not require her constant supervision and care, Mary had become a different person. She simply did not know whether she had the strength to juggle all those things again and still be the woman she strived strove so hard to become.
"You have some time before it starts showing." Alex spoke, trying to be helpful because Mary Travis was more than just a patient. In the few short weeks that she had settled in Four Corners, Mary had become a close friend and it was clear her friend was having a lot of trouble dealing with her situation. "Oh God." Mary groaned again, rubbing her brow as if she were plagued with a headache or worse.
"Mary, talk to me." Alex said firmly because it seemed she must. Mary was clearly upset and needed to talk about her fears, although Alex had yet to decide whether it was she Mary needed to speak to or Chris Larabee. "What scares you so much? It can't be motherhood. My god God , you raised a child and ran a paper, there aren't many women who could do that in a place like this."
"I didn't have to run the Clarion when Billy was a baby!" Mary exclaimed, the full vent of her anxiety starting to spill over. "I was at home while Steven ran the paper. It's different now! I don't just have responsibility over my son, I have responsibilities to the community and the paper and now it appears to a baby as well!"
"Mary, you're not doing this alone!" Alex tried to convince her, shedding the whole doctor-client relationship completely. "You have friends and a man who loves you and has proved a dozen times over that he will die for you!"
"Dying is easy!" Mary almost snarled at her. "I'm talking about diapers and midnight feeding's and potty training and colic and ....." she began to stutter now. "Can you honestly imagine Chris doing any of those things?"
"Well no," Alex admitted reluctantly, and now that she thought of it, the image of Chris doing any thing remotely like that brought an involuntary smile to her face that Mary unfortunately caught. "But he must have done something like that with his son Adam!" Sshe returned quickly, trying to salvage the moment.
"No, no," Mary shook her head vehemently "That's where Sarah came in. She did the raising while he went traipsing off all over the countryside. I mean he doesn't even know I'm pregnant and he's already gone to Sweetwater."
"I thought you said Bitter Creek." Alex looked at her.
"You see!" Mary declared. "It's starting already and I'm damned if I am going to become Bessie the breeding cow just so he can take off whenever he pleases!"
"Okay calm down," the doctor was trying very hard not to laugh now because all of Mary's concerns were valid, albeit they were somewhat exacerbated by the anxieties she was feeling and magnified over a thousand times, but they were still justifiable concerns. "You are starting to worry your doctor who has the power to have you committed."
Mary paused and gave her a look before breaking into a laugh in which Alex joined. They giggled a few minutes, allowing the humourhumor to put things back into prospectiveperspective. When both women had finally composed themselves, Alex responded with a warm smile. "Feeling better?"
"Oh yes," Mary sighed, feeling the tension evaporate for the moment. The fears were still there, but they were somewhat more tolerable now. "Poor Chris." She half smiled. "If only he had any idea what the next nine months are going to be like for him. Steven almost went back to Boston and left me here alone."
"Talk to him Mary," Alex said offering the same advice. "I think he'll surprise you."
"Oh he'll be surprised alright," Mary retorted. "Especially the first time he has to go find me go find me chocolate cake and dill pickles in the middle of the night." That thought actually gave her some measure of satisfaction.
"Chocolate cake and dill pickles?" Alex wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"With cranberry sauce." Mary grinned widely, feeling tremendously better nowt now that she had confided some of her worries to a sympathetic ear.
Alex tried to picture the concoction but only one thing came to mind. "Now I think I'm going to be sick."
The Terminator ransacked the house after its inhabitants were neutralized. The ammunition in the weapon he had had liberated earlier had been a limited supply, and so he was forced to use his hands to do the work. The children had been the last to meet their premature end because they had remained sleeping in their beds for most of the night. The parents who had been awakened when he arrived at this lone house, one of many if the data on this region were was reliable, that trailed the outskirts of the town called Four Corners.
The man had brandished a shotgun, which the Terminator did not allow him to fire. It was a simple matter of breaking his neck with one sharp movement and the human had collapsed where he stood, like a marionette whose strings had just been severed. He had engaged the Terminator outside the home and that's where he lay sprawled in the dirt. The woman had been in the house waiting for her spouse's' return when the Terminator found her. With as much ease, he had neutralized her in the same way.
He spent the rest of the night searching the house for items he might require, like a new set of clothes. The ones he wore fitted badly, and a Terminator by nature had to blend into the background unnoticed. The man he had killed seemed to be closer to his size that than the previous human it he had encountered, and thus most of his clothes fit the Terminator well, especially the shoes. There was also a small wealth of weapons, though none were what he considered to be efficient. It was becoming apparent that he would not find any of better quality or functionality in this primitive environment. If there was an advantage to this state of affairs, it was that the target for termination would be no better armed and would put up little resistance.
The Terminator would like to have questioned the man further on the whereabouts of the target, for very little information existed on his personal life. There was reference to a spouse but that information was pointless at that moment for the marriage would not take place for some time yet. The data that was available had its origins in some fanciful accounts in what were deemed periodicals in this day and age. It spoke of the target's associations and some violent adventures with the criminal elements of the age, but nothing that was of any use to him.
He calculated the options before him and decided quickly that it would be advantageous if he were to keep the town under surveillance until an optimum moment arrived to eliminate the target. The Terminator had been given very specific instructions regarding the termination of this particular subject. Skynet had returned him to this time period so that no suspicions would be raised by anyone in the future by the subject's termination. This time was known for its violence, and the subject's occupation made the task simpler.
By the time dawn had started to break, the Terminator saw no reason to linger in his present location as he had gathered everything that might be of use to him in his mission objective. It would not take him long to reach Four Corners and once there, he could seek out the target's closest associates as listed in his databanks and begin covert surveillance.
There was no reason for the subject to be aware of his existence until the target was acquired.