Standard Disclaimer: All characters and situations related to Star Trek are wholly owned by Paramount Pictures. All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" TV series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
"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 travelling from one place to another, Ezra became an impeccable judge of character. He could see something shady a mile away. His instincts were razor sharp and his ability to see through the masks that often confused so many humans because of the number of alien faces that made up the galaxy these days were unparalleled.
Chris had often wondered what the scene must have been like when Ezra announced to his mother 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 realised 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 realised 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 realised 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."
He knew with every fibre 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, Counsellor." 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 Counsellor 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 despatched.
"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, realising 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 realised 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 realising 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 symbolise 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 Counsellor 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 Counsellor what was on his mind.
"Ladies ain't allowed in the saloon." The man broke into the coversation 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 realised 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 surpress 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 behaviour 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 Counsellors whereabouts, those who sat in judgement 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 Counsellor 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 recognised her as Julia."
"I know," Josiah nodded girmly. "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.
According to the intelligence she had been gathering on Poplar's whereabouts since his arrival in Four Corners, Alex had learnt where the man was lodged during his stay in the small town. After Josiah's discovery in his church and ensuring that Poplar was still busy at the mortuary where Nathan was conducting his autopsy. At the moment, they had no idea where Ezra was but assumed that wherever Poplar was to be found; Ezra could not be far behind. Alex knew that when the security chief wished to disappear into the background, there was no one who could find him if he did not wish it.
The lodging where Poplar was currently residing lay on the other side of town under the ownership of a woman who called herself Lady Angel. Lady Angel had not been forthcoming about allowing them into Poplar's room, particularly when he had paid in advance and what she called a border 'who didn't give her no trouble' as she put it. At least, not until Alex appealed to her sense of community by explaining what it was they suspected him of doing. While she did not seem completely swayed by Alex's disclosure, she could not refuse when the possibility existed.
When Alex pushed open the door, the first thing she heard was the buzzing of flies. This was not an unusual occurrence since Poplar had left his window wide open and the annoying insects had entered his room through that opening. However, for a town like Four Corners where dust, stables and outhouses were certainly more inviting to the average housefly than a lodging room, it did raise Alex's suspicion somewhat. Josiah followed her behind closely as they moved deeper into the room. The bed was still unmade and Poplar's entire array of luggage was composed of one carpetbag, which was secreted beneath it.
As Alex knelt down to pick it up, Josiah examined the rest of the room and saw that other than the unmade bed, there was no signs of habitation. Even the wash basin was empty and everything was neatly placed, except for the basket in the corner which seemed to be the centre of convergence for all the flies they heard buzzing about the room. He approached the basket cautiously and noted that the insects disbanded and flew to the ceiling in annoyance at his sudden appearance. Josiah looked down into the basket and saw a tumble of clothes at the bottom of the hamper.
Josiah took a deep breath and reached into the bottom of the basket and immediately felt his fingertips making contact with fabric that was undoubtedly wet. He recoiled a little from the slick feel but forced himself to clamp his fist around it and retrieved it from its hiding place. "I found something." He declared with an expression of distaste on his face as he glanced in Alex's direction.
"Me too." Alex announced proudly, dropping the carpetbag onto the mattress. "You first." She motioned to the clothing he had in his hand.
Josiah was more than happy to relinquish his find on the mattress and immediately wiped his hand on his clothes when he had released it. The offending garments were a shirt and jacket, all heavily smeared with blood. If they had any lingering doubts as to the Poplar's guilt, it was more or less vanquished when they sighted those crimson stained clothes. With a hollowing sensation in his stomach, Josiah looked at the damning evidence before him and knew that the blood that had attracted the flies was that of Julia Pemberton's. He supposed it was just as well as Ezra was not here.
"I guess that pretty much confirms it then." She said softly.
Josiah could only nod. "I guess it does."
"He killed her," Alex swallowed, trying to calm her own anger over what she was seeing before her and trying to imagine how helpless Julia must have felt when she was bound and brutalised. "While everyone was inside because of our fight with Top Hat Bob, he moved the body out in the street and then came back here to get cleaned up."
"He was still pretty confident about pining it on me back then so he would not have worried about hiding this." Josiah regarded the discriminating evidence left behind.
"Well not that we need it," Alex said after a moment, looking away form the blood soaked material. "We should see if there's anything else in here." She turned to the carpetbag and proceeded to open it, feeling as if it were a foregone conclusion that there was nothing left to find that could possibly be more incriminating than what they had already discovered until the glint of something shiny caught her eye from insides it confines.
Josiah caught her expression immediately and asked. "What is it?"
"Look." Alex gestured to the bad and Josiah leaned forward to see what it was that had left her so speechless.
Taped up neatly in brown paper with only the top face of the first coin showing, was the gleam of silver dollars, polished with care. The same silver dollars found covering each of the victim's eyes. I
Alex said nothing as she reached in and pocketed the find, having no intention of allowing this evidence to suddenly disappear by leaving it alone for any reason. Once she had ensured that it was safely in her possession, Alex slammed the bag shut, hearing the metallic latch click into place before she raised her eyes to meet Josiah's.
"Alright," she said coolly. "Let's hang this son a bitch."
If there was one thing Ezra knew about people, it was when they were running scared.
Even though Poplar did not notice Ezra following him and keeping him under close surveillance, the man was nonetheless nervous. Alex had been correct in her assertion that if Ezra did not wished to be noticed, no one would be capable of doing so as Poplar continued about his business with no knowledge that Ezra was watching. The more Ezra studied the man, the more certain he became that this was the creature that had killed his beloved Julia. Only training and a strict reverence for due process kept Ezra from doing what was necessary, even in this facsimile world created by the Q entity whom omnipotent or not, would be made accountable when Ezra finally met him.
From the table of the saloon where he was seated with a bunch of opponents who wanted to see if the card player Ezra Standish was all he was reputed to be, Ezra watched the door of the undertaker's office where Poplar had entered a short time ago. The Pinkerton detective had claimed that he wanted to question Nathan himself regarding the findings of the autopsy done on Julia Pemberton. While Ezra spared him that particular anguish by seeing the woman he loved being cut open, he did not intend to let Poplar escape and found himself this unobtrusive corner where he could continue to observe.
Poplar emerged from the office with Nathan who did not seem at all impressed by any of the man's questions, just as Ezra had laid a straight on the table before his fellow gamblers. Poplar's unheard words to Nathan were spoken with the background of a low rumble of discontent at the winning hand Ezra had produced. Although he was aware of everything that was happening around the table, he was concentrating on what was taking place outside the undertaker's front door. Poplar had some concluding remarks before he turned away from Nathan and started walking in the opposite direction.
"Gentlemen," Ezra hardly batted an eye as he glanced at the other cards presented and saw that the victory was still his. "It's been a pleasure, but I must take my leave." He said politely before scooping up his winnings.
There was a frown from everyone at the table at watching their money disappear into his pockets but Ezra hardly cared and knew that these were not the kind of man who would be too sore at their defeat. He saw Nathan crossing the street and immediately left the establishment, leaving enough of a tab with the bartender to ensure that his return would be met with gratitude the next time he chose to frequent the place. Having concluded his business in the saloon, Ezra made a hasty departure from the place and joined Nathan on the street.
"Ezra," Nathan saw the security chief approaching. The doctor had been somewhat concerned about the Southerner ever since they discovered Julia's body and knew that this length of time could not possibly enough to assuage the man's grief. "How are you doing?"
Ezra did not waste time with idle conversation, his eyes were already searching the street for Poplar. "Where did he go?" Ezra demanded.
"Where did who go?" Nathan asked blankly.
"Poplar?" Ezra retorted. "Where did he go?"
The urgency in Ezra's voice immediately produced an answer from Nathan. "That way." He glanced at the direction of the lodging house. "Why?"
"It's highly likely that he might have killed Julia." The security chief answered without skipping a beat and did not pause when he reached the doctor, instead altered his course so that Nathan would follow him.
Strangely enough, the revelation did not surprise Nathan very much. The man had given Nathan what could only be called 'the creeps' and Ezra's statement only seemed to give good reason for it now. "What makes you think that?" Nathan asked as he felt into stride with Ezra who was hell bent on putting Poplar in his sights once again.
"Just the way he was certain that Josiah was the one who committed the crime and he seemed to be somewhat vague regarding his whereabouts during the time Julia was killed." Ezra replied without pause. "I have questioned perpetrators in my life time and to a quote a colloquialism, I have to say that man is dirty. I can smell it."
Nathan could sense something in Ezra's voice that immediately gave rise to his concern. Considering what Ezra was feeling with Julia's death, there was no way in the world that Nathan could believe that he was anything but justified in his feelings but the security chief was always in control. A man so in command of his emotions at all time had a tendency to erupt spectacularly when the time came for those emotions to spill forth. Grief and rage was carrying Ezra away on a tide of destruction that not even his adept emotional control could restrain and Nathan feared that he might cross the line if he believed Poplar was Julia's murderer.
They were not far from the lodging house's main entrance when they heard its door swing open. Almost reflexively, Ezra pulled Nathan and himself behind the safety of the building they were walking so that their presence would not be revealed. As they both remained hidden behind the corner of the hardware store behind which they had taken refuge, Ezra observed Poplar emerging from the front of the lodging house. This time, there was no cool, deliberate expression on the man's face that hid the evidence of his guilt. His expression was nakedly panicked and as he stepped out into the light, began scanning the street for evidence of pursuit.
"Something has happened." Ezra guessed as he saw the fear etched in Poplar's face.
"What?" Nathan whispered as he observed over Ezra's shoulder. Poplar had seen neither of them but then the man was in such a state of heightened fear, Nathan doubted that he was paying all that much attention anyway.
"I do not know," Ezra shook his head unable to fathom what could have happened to shake Poplar's demeanor so irrevocably. Whatever it was, Ezra did not have time to debate the situation as he saw Poplar's next destination. The man was almost running towards it and it took a split second for it to register in Ezra's mind what Poplar was attempting to do.
"He is running!" Ezra exclaimed and moved out of his hiding place, determined not to let the man get away.
Whether or not Poplar noticed them behind him, the Pinkerton detective did not seem to show any evidence of it. He ran through the streets almost blindly, with only one thought in his mind, to reach the livery where his horse was stabled so that he could escape Four Corners with his life. When he had entered the room and saw that his belongings had been searched and the proprietress of the establishment revealing that she had allowed Josiah Sanchez and the town doctor entry, he knew the worst had happened.
For so long it had weighed upon his mind, the heinous acts that he had carried out. Their faces plagued him during so many nights filled with terrible dreams of strangled cries and terrified eyes dimming as their life oozed from their bodies. So many that he could not stand to look at, whose eyes he had to cover with the silver dollars they used to pay someone else he had loved and had betrayed him, they were dead but they followed him like the Furies followed Orestes. He knew deep down inside that what he did was wrong and when the sober light of day allowed him to view his victims, he almost felt grief for what he had done but not enough to stop. The urge that came when the sun went down and the familiar tug came pulling at him was too strong too ignore and he would become the very worst of human predators, the one who killed for no reason.
Ezra lost sight of Poplar when they rounded the corner but there was no doubt in his mind where the man was headed. Starfleet health protocols ensured that its officers could do run five miles without faltering and the distance to the livery was negligible at best. Nathan kept up with him stride for stride and when they heard the slamming of the wooden door that led to the stables where Poplar's horse was no doubt kept, they knew that the quarry was inside attempting to make his escape.
"Nathan," Ezra glanced at the doctor as they neared the door. "Be careful, he is a cornered animal at the moment. He will shoot."
Nathan nodded in understanding, aware that this was no holodeck and any injuries incurred would not be simulated but real. They could die in this place as Julia had proven so prolifically.
"In that case," Nathan cracked a smile, hiding his fear in a joke. "You go first."
Ezra gave him a look before the security chief advanced cautiously towards the main stable doors. His gun was drawn and he was more than prepared to fire when suddenly, the doors flew open in a preemptive strike. Ezra and Nathan both dropped to the ground as the horse rushed past them with Poplar forcing it forward by digging his heels into the animal's flank. The abrupt kick in its sides made it neigh in protest at the rough handling but Poplar did not seem to care, concerned only with making his escape from town.
"POPLAR!" Ezra shouted.
Ezra's cry forced Poplar to look over his shoulder.
The distraction was all the time that Ezra needed to take aim and fire.
The explosion of sound followed the gunshot but instead of seeing Poplar tumbled to the ground from his saddle, the animal he was riding reared up on its hind legs at the sting of lead that had nicked it rump. The abrupt action from the mare dislodged Poplar from the its back and the Pinkerton detective landed hard on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust upon impact. Ezra was already closing in on him, having seen the gun around Poplar's hip and refusing to give the man any leave to use it on himself or on Nathan. There had had been enough dying today.
"I would not advise it." Ezra said coldly as he saw Poplar recovering from his fall enough to reach for the smooth wooden handle of the weapon nestled in the holster around his hip. His fingers barely touched the butt of the gun when Ezra made his warning.
Poplar swallowed, feeling his heart pounding in his chest and yet trying to make some kind of recovery in the wake of his rather incriminating actions. He no longer reached for his gun, choosing instead to dust the dirt from his person. An ugly scrape had formed on his cheek when he had fallen and an uneven veil of blood was running down the skin. "What is the meaning of this?" He hissed as he raised his eyes to meet Ezra's.
"I was about to inquire the same." Ezra remarked calmly. "Where do you think you were going?"
"I am not under suspicion." Poplar retorted but his voice was shaking. "I do not have to account my whereabouts to you or anybody."
"Considering what we discussed earlier, I thought we had reached an understanding, a professional rapport even." Ezra answered smoothly. "You should have told me you were leaving. Actions such at these make me wonder what it is that could make you so hasty to leave?"
"We have nothing!" Poplar barked.
"I'm afraid that's not entirely true." Alexandra Styles announced herself with that statement. "Josiah and I have something that might refute that."
All eyes turned to Alex and Josiah who had heard the commotion and had come to investigate, sensing that Ezra and Poplar would be at the centre of it.
Alex went to Ezra's side as Josiah and Nathan, both armed, had drawn their weapons and were keeping the barrels of both guns aimed firmly in Poplar's direction. "We found this in his room at the lodging house." Alex handed the roll of coins to Ezra.
Ezra said nothing and stared at the gleaming roll of silver dollars in his hands. Here it was, the hard evidence that he needed. He understood now why Poplar had decided to run. No doubt after returning to his room and learning that someone else had been there and had found the evidence needed to convict him of murdering Julia and so many others, Poplar had panicked and decided to escape while he could. If Ezra had not been following him, he very well might have succeeded.
"We also found clothes in his room that were soiled with blood." Alex added. "The means of finding out is impossible in this day and age but I think we know that its Julia's."
"This is a frame!" Poplar swore. "You're trying to incriminate me! It will never stand up in a court of law!"
"Come on Silas," Josiah started to speak in those soft soothing tones that had the ability to convince Moriaty to turn over a new leaf. "You want to stop. I can't see the pain in your eyes, the need for repentance. You didn't want to hurt those girls, the way you took care of them after you killed them makes that plain enough to see."
Poplar's eyes shifted to Josiah, almost compelled by the Counselor's words to listen. "I didn't do it."
"Yes you did," Josiah continued, "you know you did and you're sorry. You're making them pay for something someone else did Silas, something that they had no way of changing for you but you didn't have a choice did you? When you see them, you see her and you can't fight it. You've been a slave to it all your life and you want to stop as much as we want you too. I understand."
Poplar blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek as he listened to Josiah, the man he wanted to blame for his sins, who seemed to have an open conduit into his soul to understand that pain he had been suffering, to appreciate what he had endured. It felt good to know that he was no longer trapped in his shadowy world alone, that somewhere, someone finally knew what it was to be him.
"I never wanted to hurt them." He whispered as he stared at Josiah's eyes. "I didn't want them to die but I couldn't help it. I just wanted them to know how much I hurt, I just wanted them to listen, like she wouldn't listen."
Ezra was listening. He was listening closely for the confession that made the truth incontrovertible. This man was admitting that he had killed all those poor women in so many cities across this manufactured land. It did not matter that Q had created this world, this world existed nonetheless and women had died just as surely as Julia had died. He thought about Julia and his last words to her that had not been ones that anyone should take away with them when they left this life and felt a thousand knives tearing into the flesh of his heart. He could not breathe, could not think of anything else but the fire of those emerald eyes that existed only in his memories now because she was dead.
No longer beautiful, no longer warm with love and spirited with fire. She was just dead. A slab of meat growing colder in the undertaker's office, fit only to be ejected into space like flotsam or buried like an ancient treasure.
Dead meat.
The derringer slid neatly out of its hiding place under his sleeve with one slick movement, it slipped into his palm and with the same lightning reflexes that he used to handle a phaser, Ezra pulled the trigger. He did not know that there were tears in his eyes when the gun fired. Did not feel the moisture against his skin when the small bullet slammed into the centre of Poplar's forehead, spurting blood and bone as it tore the back of his skull apart. He might have been conscious of Alex's shocked cry or Josiah and Nathan's horrified gasps. He was certain bystanders watching the proceedings might have screamed but Ezra was so far from hearing that he could not be sure.
All that he was certain of was that Julia was still dead and killing Poplar had satisfied his revenge but had done nothing to heal his wounded heart. He watched dispassionately as the man collapsed onto the floor, saturating the ground with blood while his companions looked on with astonishment. Ezra did not know how long the play had gone on before he was able to meet their eyes.
"Ezra....." Alex stuttered, not knowing what to say. "Jesus."
"He wanted someone to listen," Ezra said returning the derringer back into place beneath his sleeve. "I did."
Completely oblivious to what was presently transpiring in town with the rest of his officers, in particular his security chief, Chris Larabee led the rest of the Maverick's senior staff into the collection of tents and shanties that made up infamous locale known as Wickestown. Prior to their arrival here, the chatter of the locals had told the Captain what to expect but to see the place for himself was nothing like their description. Many unsavory images were conjured up in his head when one spoke about bordellos and cat houses but Mr Wickes had created a new distinction of sleaze in the establishment he run in the middle of nowhere, miles from Four Corners.
To make matters worse, Chris was not entirely certain that confronting Mr Wickes and his cohorts was exactly the best way to proceed but if Picard's reports regarding Q were to be taken as gospel, the entity often liked being involved in the mischief it created. Chris was certain that Q wanted a ringside seat to watch them dancing to his tune. Since he did not appear to be around when Chris had confronted Top Hat Bob and Poplar did not seem to have an accomplice, Chris could only deduce that Q was watching from Wickes' side. Chris disliked the idea of having to deal with Mr Wickes who from Buck and Mary's account sounded like a true piece of vermin, but with Julia dead it was obvious they could not remain here when any of them might befall the same fate.
It was easy enough to sneak into the camp that made up Wickestown. There was such a large clientele that it was a simple matter for five people to go unnoticed. The atmosphere was lively even in broad daylight with half clad women visible at almost every tent they came across. Mary stayed closed to Chris, finding the whole concept rather odious even though such places still existed in the age that they lived in. The ladies for most part seemed neither unhappy or happy, their eyes wore the look of resignation that this was their life and they had accepted it. The lack of spirit in their eyes was more offensive to Mary than the fact that men with leering expressions were commandeering their attentions as if they were objects to be purchased.
The unfortunate reality of their profession made it true.
"This is disgusting." Mary hissed under her breath when she saw a young girl no more than sixteen, standing at the open flap of tent, cheeks reddened with too much rouge and her lips painted crimson, making her look older than she really was. The girl had smiled at JD, who swallowed visibly when she pulled down the sleeve of her shoulder and revealed an alabaster shoulder that was marred with a bruise.
"I don't know." Buck remarked with a hint of mischief. "I mean they are providing a service."
"Attaboy Buck," Vin retorted. "Show her your sensitive side." The helmsman was more comfortable with his Winchester now that he had used it accurately and had his hand poised to reach for it at a moment's notice.
"This was the way things were back then," Buck said unrepentant and as a matter of factly. "There were like twenty men to one woman. A man had to get some relief."
Chris slapped his hand over his face wondering if it was possible to get away with shooting one's first office in the mouth.
"Oh really?" Mary turned to Buck, her feminist outrage well and truly inspired as she stared at him, with her fists clenched on her hips, a stance that Chris knew well enough to be the universal position taken up by females about to go ballistic.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it that way....." Chris started to say, giving Buck a murderous glare.
"Well perhaps they should have used the tried and true method." The protocol officer retorted, her blue gray eyes smoldering as they narrowed. "Using Mrs Palmer and five daughters!"
All four men looked at her in shock at using that rather old but very descriptive method of dispelling relief as Buck had put it.
"Lieutenant Travis." Buck exclaimed with astonished amusement. "That's extremely sexist."
"Buck shut up." Vin snapped.
"Yes Buck," Chris said rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Please, shut up."
"I don't get it." JD looked at them all confused. "Mrs Palmer?"
"Let me explain....." Buck started to say.
"Later." Chris met the first officer's gaze and growled.
"Yes Sir." Buck swallowed, seeing the captain's patience finally reached its limits.
"Hey," Vin spoke suddenly, his voice urgent. "Is that Wickes?"
Vin's statement immediately forced them to raise their eyes at the sight of Mr Wickes emerging from one of the tents, a rather battered young woman in his grip as he came through the flap. Her physical state indicated that she had been abused physically and Mary's stomach hollowed at the sight of the desolate expression on her face. Wickes for his part, did not seem at all worried about her condition, shoving her in the direction of ladies in his stable. They immediately surrounded their wounded comrade and spirited her away to another tend, most likely to deal with her injuries. The animosity they felt towards Mr Wickes was obvious, even if they were powerless to do anything about it.
"That's him." Buck spoke through his teeth. "That's the son of a bitch." The first officer started towards Mr Wickes but Chris grabbed his arm and kept him from going any further.
"Stand down Buck." Chris ordered.
"Yeah," Vin added his agreement. The helmsman's eyes were already scouring the immediate area and they could see the men that were located in various points, acting as bodyguard by the gunbelts worn around their hips. "He's got people around him." Vin warned. "You take two wrong steps towards him and they'll cut you down before you even get there."
"We have to reach him," Chris replied as he signaled them into what appeared to be an empty tent. Judging by the rumpled sheets and the trunk in the corner, laden with feminine clothing, its owner would soon be returning so he outlined his plan quickly since they did not have a great deal of time. "If we can get him alone, maybe we can use him to draw Q out."
"Or at the very least, keep his men from blowing our heads off." Vin added.
"Sounds like a plan," Buck conceded that the plan was sound even if their method of executing it at this time appeared somewhat vague.
"So how do we do that?" JD inquired, assuming that the trio had some sort of idea how they were going to accomplish that.
Chris did not answer for he had not thought that far ahead. However, he noticed that Mary had drifted away from the group and was presently examining the contents of the worn trunk on the floor. She lifted from the array of slips and corsets what was definitely a scandalous cut dress in red.
"I have an idea." She suggested winking at Chris while, holding the gown over herself.
Chris' eyes widened.
"Absolutely not." He responded without hesitation once it dawned upon him what she was alluding to.
"Chris," Mary said impatiently. "Somehow I do not see anyone else in our party fitting into this dress and quite frankly, you don't have much of a choice."
"Oh I don't know," Buck glanced at Vin with a devious smile. "Vin, with your hair...."
"I'll shoot you Wilmington," Vin retorted, "commanding officer or not."
"Hey!" Chris snapped. "Will you two cut it out? Mary, no." He stated once again, facing the protocol officer. "Its too dangerous. You saw what he did to that girl out there."
"I did," Mary nodded, not about to forget that for one minute. "But I don't intend to be alone with him long enough for that to happen and I am going in armed. Once I get him alone and under a gun, you three can come in and take it from there. It won't arouse any suspicion from his men."
"That's true." JD agreed with Mary's assessment even though he did not like to think of her in that position any more than Chris did. Mary always seemed so dignified and she was what JD coined as a lady, someone too elegant for the plan she had just conceived.
"Don't encourage her." Chris retorted and JD immediately fell silent.
"Chris," Mary looked at him. "You don't have a choice. We need to get out of here. We have obligations back on the Maverick, not to mention the fact that I really do not wish to die in this place, the way Julia has."
Chris swore under his breath, not all happy about Mary being the bait that would lure Wickes into solitude but as Captain, he had to forget that she was more than just his protocol officer. He had to forget that he loved her and threat Mary like any other officer and resource under his command. There was more than just her life he had to consider but all the other members of the senior staff because she was right, he was not allowing anyone else to die like Julia had.
"Alright," he conceded at last, reluctant to do so but unable to deny that they did indeed need to return to the Maverick before any one else was killed. "We'll go with your plan."
"Mary, he saw you." Buck pointed out. "You can't convince him to do anything if he recognises you."
"That's true," Mary agreed but she had already considered this and picked up a black wig that was visible through the heap of clothing and immediately extracted it from the collection. Slipping it over her blond locks, she looked at Chris and replied. "I think it becomes me, don't you?"
Wickes thought he knew every woman that worked for him. He mad it a matter of principal to 'assess' their qualifications for deserving employment with him personally. Most of them did not mind the task and it was those that Wickes hired for the simple reason of money while others, the ones who had come off the farm, with no family and had no other choice but to resort to whoring for money, those were the treats. He liked their delusions of doing the work just long enough to earn money to take them to a new life, unaware that they were indenturing themselves to him until it was too late. Those who ran often paid the price for Wickes knew there were plenty more where they came from.
Mary saw Wickes as she walked up the path between the tents. He was at one of the tables outside a tent that acted as a saloon of sorts, with a girl on his lap, talking to one of the men who had sampled his wares. She prayed inwardly that Chris and the others were watching her closely when she felt a tingle of revulsion at the sight of the man she had to pretend to seduce. He was a fat, bloated specimen with a goatee and a dusty old suit that was meant to make his look respectable but succeeded in making look more like the slime he was.
She was noticed the minute she had appeared out in the open with her heavily made up face, her wig and the dress that pulled so tightly across the bosom and the waist that in this day and age, it left nothing to the imagination. She noted with some amusement the expression of desire on Chris' face as he had surveyed her form even though he tried very much to hide it and wondered if all men harbored secret fantasies about seeing the women they loved in such apparel. Men started hooting and whistling at her as she continued walking, hoping she looked nothing like the woman Wickes had tried to accost earlier that day.
She gave alluring smiles to those who propositioned her, keeping her eyes fixed on Wickes who by now had glanced her way. Mary could tell by the expression in his eyes that desire and lust was quickly filtering into them and that like the other men about the place, he was just as taken by her disguise. Mary ignored the crude offers and kept her gaze fixed upon Wickes, so that he would know that he was all that she was interested in. This was no different from any negotiation that she had been forced to mediate in her career as a Starfleet diplomat, it was all in the eye contact and first impressions.
"Mr Wickes," Mary planted herself in the chair across Wickes table when she finally reached the man.
"Sally honey," Wickes stared at the young woman on his lap and gestured at her to leave. It was not a request. For her part, the young woman did not mind leaving and as she lifted herself off Wickes, Mary had the distinct impression that she was willing to go. When they were finally alone and the offers had stopped because the clients of Mr Wickes' establishment knew better than to bid for a woman who had captured the whoremaster's attention, Wickes regarded Mary once again.
"Now what can I do for your little lady?" He asked.
"It's not what you can do for me Mr Wickes," Mary said breathlessly. "Its what I can do for you."
"Really?" One eyebrow arched even though they were both aware of what she was referring to. "And what would that be?"
"All the pleasure you or your clientele may desire." She smiled. "I do everything and anything."
"Now that is mighty interesting." Wickes leaned forward, enjoying the view he got when he peered down her dress. "Tell me a little about yourself, Miss?"
"Delilah." Mary answered. "That's all the name I need. I was travelling in these parts with a gent but he looks to have left me in something of a bind. I need money and I heard that you could help a girl with my talents."
"I may," Wickes' grin seemed broader and once again, Mary felt that flush of disgust wash through her. "It depends on how good you are."
"Well," Mary braced herself and reached for his hand. She lifted one digit to her lips and proceeded to suck the finger with slow, languid flicks of her tongue. He tasted of ash and booze and Mary surprised herself by now gagging there and then. She saw Wickes respond to her ministrations and knew that he was taken in by her act, or at least putting up an extremely good show if he was not. Unfortunately, there would be no way to know for certain until they were alone in his tent. "Maybe we can go somewhere and talk about this some more?" She cocked a brow suggestively.
"I think that can be arranged." Wickes retorted and immediately pushed himself off the stool he had been seated on. "Come with me darling and we can talk about your 'qualifications'."
Mary followed Wickes back to his tent, which was located on some tents away from where she had caught his eye. As she moved through the meandering path through the rag tag collections of tents, she tried to spy if Chris and the others were about. However, there were so many people around that it was almost impossible to distinguish their faces through the crowd and Mary hoped earnestly that they were indeed there because she had no intention of getting any more personal with Wickes than she had already. As it was, it would take a week to wash the taste of him from her lips.
Wickes himself gave no indication that the ruse she had perpetrated upon him was a failure and Mary hoped that she was able to maintain the charade for just a little longer until the time was ripe to spring their trap. Despite the reassuring knowledge that Chris and the others were keeping close eye on her as she followed Wickes back to his tent, she could not help feeling a little apprehensive about being alone with this man. She had seen the girl that had emerged earlier with those terrible injuries to her face and knew that her wounds ran deeper than the ones that could be seen on her skin. Her stomach hollowed in disgust at the assault the girl must have suffered at this man's hand and was glad at the weapon strapped to the inside of her thigh.
The inside of Wickes private tent did not look very different from that of the one she had been when she had liberated her present costume but it did have a proper bed unlike the fold up cots she had spied in the others. She supposed being the master of this place allowed him such luxuries. She noted a few pieces of furniture but nothing that showed he had any real attachment to the place. Mary hid her anxiousness as she saw Wickes go to one of the tables next to the bed and pour them both glasses of whiskey from the bottle that he had laid there.
"Here we are Miss Delilah." He turned around and handed her a glass.
Mary was just about to reach for it when suddenly; he splashed the drink into her face before she knew what was happening. The liquid stung her eyes and made her recoil, robbing her of vision long enough for him to throw a balled fist into her face. Mary felt knuckles against her cheek and tumbled back into the bed, uttering a small cry of pain as her body sunk into the mattress. Through the stupor of pain, she heard Wickes hissing.
"You stupid bitch!" He snarled. "You take me for a fool? I know you're Larabee's whore!"
Mary was not listening, her hands were fumbling beneath her dress, trying desperately to reach the gun strapped to her thigh when she felt Wickes body climbing onto her own, pinning her under his weight. His hand slipped between the folds of her dress, trying to reach the gun first. Mary struggled hard to keep that end from taking place but was not capable of getting to it before he did. However, during their struggles, she did manage to score something of a victory, when she knocked the weapon out of his hand and it tumbled to the ground, out of reach of both of them.
"Whore!" He screamed enraged and hit her again, this time connecting with her jawline.
Mary felt a surge of rage overtaking her and she snapped her head back and glared at him. Staring him full in the face, she calmed herself and spoke with a low voice. "I have had just enough of you."
Mustering every ounce of strength she could, Mary twisted her body hard. She could not throw Wickes off but her momentum and his weight allowed her to dislodge him and he felt next to her on the mattress. Mary did not waste any time and flipped onto her feet from the bed. Wiping the blood running down her lip, Mary threw one controlled punch at Wickes whom was starting to sit up. The blow caught him in the jaw and his face reddened in fury at her audacity to strike him. Mary did not care; she threw a series of blows to his face and some to his thick gut, which had little or no muscle control. His arms were flaying as he tried to fight back in his sitting position. Her attack kept him from standing up or rushing at her with brute force.
She paused long enough to give him the chance however, when she decided to go for the gun, which fell into her line of sight. Taking no chances, Mary dove for the weapon, just as Wickes stood up from his bed and charged her.
"I'll kill you!" He roared. His eyes wide and frenzied.
She dropped to her knees, allowing his forward momentum to topple him over her body. She heard his outrage howl just as he crumpled in a messy heap but ignored it as she wrapped her hand around her gun and took aim. Wickes growled loudly, snarling like an animal about to tear its prey to pieces. Although Mary had the gun, she was plenty scared and reacted without thinking.
The first bullet exploded out of the barrel and struck him in the knee. Correcting her aim in time to pull the trigger again, she fired. This time the bullet lodged higher, in his stomach. Wickes was starting to scream as his knee shattered and he was driven to his feet, blood gushing from dual wounds. Mary did not stop firing. She pulled the trigger again and again, watching him dance in pain as the bullets tore through his body one after the other. She did not pause until all of them had been discharged and the loud click of an empty chamber seemed louder than the screams she heard outside and the frantic sounds of approaching voices.
Wickes did not utter any more sounds after the third bullet and by the time he finally stopped moving and she had emptied the entire contents of the gun into his body, he was almost bathed in red. Blood was flowing freely, oozing through his clothes and saturating the dirt with its viscosity.
For a few seconds, Mary did not know what to do. Her hands were shaking and she felt her stomach heaving in such protest, she thought she might wretch. She had never killed another creature in her life and this first experience was not one she wished to repeat any time soon. Even though, Wickes was a truly disgusting specimen, given life where he should have remained an aspect of fiction, Mary regretted that she had been forced to kill him. When she recovered, she stood up shakily and made her way to the tent flap, emerging just long enough into the sunlight to feel a hand clenching around her arm and dragging out the rest of the way.
"What have you done!" The man who was obviously Wickes bodyguard demanded.
"Let me go!" Mary protested weakly and saw a crowd had appeared before, demanding retribution for what she had done.
"She killed Wickes!" Someone from behind her shouted.
"You bitch!" Her captor swore and rose his gun to fire.
A single gunshot erupted to stop him, while at the same time silencing the rumblings around the room. Mary looked up and saw Chris not far from her, aiming his peacemaker at the direction of the man who intended to harm her. As she scoured the rest of the compound before her, she saw Vin, Buck and JD taking up similar positions. From where they were, anyone who attempted to shoot her or fire at them would have reason to regret it.
"Let...her...go." Chris Larabee's icy voice demanded as he glared at the man holding her.
"She killed our boss." The man responded in turn. "She's gotta pay."
"Judging by the bruises on the lady's face," Buck added. "It looks like self defense to me."
"She had a gun!" He retorted, not about to release Mary just yet.
Chris could see he would take just a little more convincing. This was fine by him because Chris could be very persuasive when he chose to be. "I have a gun and I'll shoot you just as dead as your boss if you don't take your hands off her now." Just for effect, Chris cocked his gun and narrowed his gaze as he sharpened his aim on the target.
Mary saw her captor swallowing hard. There were beads of sweat on his forehead as he tried to gauge whether or not Chris would actually fire. It did not take long before the infamous Larabee glare won out and he released her reluctantly. She let out a sigh of relief and immediately pulled away from the men, walking slowly towards Chris.
"Q!" Chris shouted. "We're done playing your game!"
"What are you talking about?" Wickes' bodyguard asked with genuine puzzlement.
Chris ignored him, certain that the omnipotent entity was hiding in the crowd somewhere. Seeing the blood on Mary's face made him smolder with increased anger, already running hot torrents through him because of Julia Pemberton. "Do you hear me you son of a bitch!" Chris shouted on top of his voice and further sent Wickes' men and the present population of this facsimile world into deeper confusion. "We're through playing your puppets! We're not going to play your game any more! Its over!"
Suddenly, the face of Wickes' bodyguard altered from what it was and the man who stared back at Chris looking nothing like him. Q stared at Chris with a decidedly amused expression on his face and remarked rather innocently. "Well to tell you the truth Captain Larabee, it hasn't been my game you've been playing."
"You're Q?" Mary stopped walking and swung around to face the being that had only seconds ago, been the bodyguard of the repulsive Mr Wickes.
"My reputation proceeds me." Q smiled as she approached him. "Has Jean Luc regaled with stories of my exploits? Do tell, please. I'm dying to know if I make good theatre."
"Good theatre!" Mary exclaimed in outrage. "After what you have put us through?"
"Mary," Chris broke through the crowd who seemed to have forgotten all about the murder of Mr Wickes and appeared to be content with simply observing the bizarre goings on taking place before them. While he shared her consternation at the entity who had finally deigned to show itself, he was under no illusions of just how dangerous Q could be. This was a being that could turn them all into amoebas should he so decide. "Let me do the talking." He said when he reached her.
"Yes," Q agreed with gusto. "Let the Captain do the talking. After all, you're merely the token love interest. Did you not know that Blondie?" He grinned at her with a truly triumphant smirk that almost made Mary forget herself because she really wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.
"Still," Q continued, enjoying the discomfiture and confusion of those around him immensely. "We do need to talk so let us dispense with the audience." With that, he snapped his fingers and the crowd disappeared around them, leaving Wickestown suddenly deserted with the senior staff of the Maverick, the only inhabitants of the infamous bordello town.
"Wow." JD could not help but exclaim as he saw everyone disappearing with a flash of light. This was the most amazing thing he had ever seen since coming on board the Maverick and despite the seriousness of the situation, could not hide his awe.
"Now, there's a lad who enjoys good theatre." Q appeared at his side in a blink of an eye. "I had no idea they recruited so young out of the Academy. Why compared to me, you're not even primordial ooze."
"Omnipotent and charming," Buck found himself coming to JD's rescue when he saw his young charge frown with annoyance at having his age pointed out so blatantly.
Q turned his attention to the first officer and vanished with just as much speed, appearing next to Buck but not as himself but in the rather curvaceous form of a blond siren, ample curves filling in a scanty dress as she puckered her red lips at him with suggestion. "Is this better, Buck?"
"Don't flatter yourself." Buck retorted with a scowl which only drew laughter from Q who reverted back to his original form.
"But we're not all here are we?" Q said returning his attention to the captain once more.
"You saw to that." Chris responded, feeling his anger bubble to the surface thinking of how they had discovered Julia and the anguish in Ezra's eyes the security chief had tried so hard to hide. "You brought us here. You want to tell us why?"
"Once again, I am blamed for everything." Q sighed. "I am not responsible for this you know."
"Oh really?" Mary glared at him, arms folded in distaste. "You know of someone else who could transplant us into this 'place'?"
"This place seemed to suit you when it was all fun and games, when the odds were stacked in your favour. Come on Chris," Q looked at the captain with challenge. "That's not what you're about. I was always impressed because unlike stodgy old Jean Luc and I do not exaggerate when I say that, you were fun. You knew how to let your hair down, something else that Jean Luc is truly incapable of doing."
Chris rolled his eyes, not liking his assessment of Jean Luc Picard who was something of a hero to Chris. "The fun in this whole affair bled away the minute we found that one of us was dead."
"Oh that," Q mused as if he had completely forgotten that Julia had been murdered. His obliviousness to it all infuriated Chris to no end. "That was unfortunate but your species dies all the time, one more in the here and now doesn't really matter all that much does it?"
"It matters to us." Vin declared. "You had no right to place her in that situation. No one deserved to die that way."
Q regarded the Vulcan for the first time. "Why you're rather hot blooded for a Vulcan aren't you?" He gave Vin a quick look before returning to Chris with a nasty smile. "Watch out when that Pon Farr hits, he's going to be a real charmer with the ladies."
"Knock it off!" Chris snapped, his patience finally reaching its limits. "You brought us here and you made us dance to your tune, what the hell do you really want?"
"Little ol' me?" Q stared at him, holding his breast as if wounded by the accusation. "I see that delightful banter is not your forte' Captain so I will get to the point."
"Please do," Chris sighed.
"I am not responsible for your little trip." Q answered.
"You said that already," Buck retorted. "You'll forgive us if we don't trip over ourselves believing you."
"Go on," Chris said abruptly, signaling Buck to be silent because he had a feeling that Q might be telling the truth. All the reports he read on the entity had told Chris one thing clearly enough, as annoying and dangerous as Q might be, while he sometimes did not tell the whole truth, he was not completely prone to lying either.
"You like me." Q suddenly realised and beamed brightly. "You do!"
Chris did not know why or how, but he did. If it were not for his dead chief engineer, the entire situation might have been somewhat amusing and Q, though annoying and irritating was one of those personalities that one could not help like even if he was to be taken in small doses. "I'm as a shocked as you, so get on with it."
"We're going to be life long pals," Q appeared at his side and threw an arm over his shoulder.
"Oh god." Mary groaned. "Please just get to the point!"
"Don't worry," Q grinned at her, "you'll still get to bring us pork rinds and beer during Monday night football."
"Monday night what?" JD asked.
"Alright!" Chris barked. "Everybody shut up!" Without giving anyone a chance to say anything else, Chris yanked Q's arm and demanded. "What the hell is going on?"
"Oh all right," Q sighed, exaggerating his distress that he was being called out. "Since you feel the need to be so antagonistic, I will put you out of your misery but only because we're friends."
"Thank you." Chris answered sarcastically.
"But first we all need to be here." Q declared again and snapped his fingers. Out of thin air, Ezra, Josiah, Nathan and Alex appeared on the scene. All four were understandably confused when they saw the captain and their fellow officers around them.
"What the hell...." Alex managed once she realised where they were in comparison to where they had been.
"For those tuning in." Buck said helpfully to the new arrivals. "That's Q." He pointed at the entity standing next to Chris.
"That's Q?" Nathan looked at the man taking centre stage and enjoying it. He certainly did not look like an alien entity that was capable of causing so much mischief.
Josiah on the other hand was more concerned with how Ezra was going to take this news. After what the Counselor had seen the security chief do to Poplar, it was a valid concern. Ezra for his part, turned sharply in the direction of Q as soon as Buck had made the introduction.
Ezra's eyes widened. "Q? You're Q?"
"I must be the subject of conversation everywhere," Q gushed, "Jean Luc is truly wasted as a starship captain, I should employ him as my press agent."
Without saying another word, Ezra launched himself at Q and would have reached the entity if Vin had not stepped in and bodily restrained him. Josiah had made the move but fortunately Vin was closer and more equal to the task of ensuring that Ezra did not get any further than he had already. "Ezra! Get a hold of yourself!" With his Vulcan strength, he was more than capable of preventing Ezra from doing anything that would get himself killed, which was more or less what would happen if he attempted to attack such a powerful creature like Q.
"Get a hold of yourself?" Ezra shouted staring at Vin incredulity. He stopped fighting to get through the Vulcan because Vin was more than capable of keeping him pinned if he got it into his mind to do so. However, that did not lessen the rage that Ezra felt towards the creature who had brought them to this place and put Julia in the hands of Silas Poplar. "That son of a bitch killed Julia!"
"Sticks and stones," Q shrugged as if the words were nothing before turning to Chris. "I see that I am to get nowhere with you people until I sort this little matter out." Without pausing to elaborate, Q snapped his finger once more.
And Julia was standing before them.
There was no evidence of the beating that had taken her life. She was clad not in the period costume of the day but rather in her chief engineer's uniform and she was most definitely alive as she stared at all of them, as if having woken up from a really bad dream.
"Julia." Mary gasped.
"What happened?" She asked when she blinked. "I remember Poplar hitting me." She started to speak, feeling as if her throat were terribly dry and was in severe need of a drink. "And everything went black."
"Julia." Ezra broke free from Vin's distracted hold and took a step towards her, his heart flooding with such a profound sense of joy and relief that he was not quite able to manage any more than that. He had not realised how much he had loved her until she was lost and never felt so grateful for anything than to see her before him.
"Ezra," Julia broke into a smile, remembering how frightened she had been when Poplar was doing his worst, in that final moment when she thought she was going to die and had understood that the enmity between them was foolishness, that nothing ought to matter if she truly loved him. And she did. She crossed the space between them before she was even aware of her legs were moving and felt lighter than air when Julia felt Ezra's arms around her body, pulling her close.
"I love you." He whispered as he held her in his embrace, almost terrified to let her go because the memory of that broken body in the street was still fresh in his mind. "Whatever has between us, I am sorry. I should have known and I swear I will never hurt you again."
"No," she shook her head as she looked into his face and saw tears of happiness running down his cheeks, not entirely understanding them but completely certain of the fact that he loved her. "It wasn't your fault, you couldn't have known it was not me. I shouldn't have behaved the way I did."
"Neither should I," Ezra replied, prepared to admit to anything because he was just so happy that she was back with him. "I am sorry for what I did."
"No I am......" Julia responded.
Neither cared at all that they had an audience until Q began making retching noises. "Oh you humans and your cheap sentimentality." He shook his head in disgust.
"Considering it was you who caused this sentimental reunion," Ezra pulled away from Julia long enough to retort. "I think you can endure it for a moment."
"I?" Q returned automatically. "Had nothing to do with this."
"So you said," Chris answered, returning to the matter at hand. However, he had to admit, he was not as angry as he had been after seeing Julia brought back to them and witnessing the warm reunion between her and Ezra had soften his disposition towards Q somewhat. Besides, he was starting to believe that Q really was telling the truth about not having anything to do with their being here, which only begged the question, who did? "Mind telling us who it is responsible for this if it wasn't you?"
"Since you asked so nicely," Q answered and glanced at Mary. "I do believe you know him, Blondie."
"Call me that one more time....." Mary started to warn when suddenly all speech left her throat at another flash of light which materialized Billy in front of her.
"Billy!" Mary exclaimed as her son appeared before all of them.
Billy immediately turned to his mother and started for her, bounding across the distance and more than happy to let her hug him when they finally reached each other.
"What is he doing here?" Chris demanded, starting to get angry again. What game did Q think he was playing by accusing Billy of this entire situation.
"Now, now Christopher." Q replied, completely aware of the rising anger inside the human before him. "Before you go get upset again, I must confess that young Master Billy was not exactly alone in his responsibility for bringing you all here. He had help."
Two more figures appeared amongst them and Chris was fast reaching the point where only a good stiff drink was going to kill the headache that was forming inside his head. The new arrivals this time, were a woman and another child. Both were clad in Starfleet uniforms, even the child whose clothes seemed to be tailored made to suit. The woman was tall, with a mane of fiery red hair and had the look of one of those old Celtic maidens from the Scottish highlands while the boy was a tow headed with inquisitive colored eyes and a rather somber expression.
"Q," the woman said folding her arms impatiently. "Will you please get on with this. Quinn has spent all together too much time in the company of these humans, its time for him to get to bed. As it is, he is learning too many bad habits from that child." She looked at Billy with clear disapproval, an action which offended her to no end.
"My son has no bad habits." Mary retorted defensively.
"Well Quinn certainly did not conjure up this entire fiasco on his own." Miss Q returned sharply.
"Wait a minute," Buck cut in. "Are you saying that kid is responsible for all this?"
"Partially responsible," Miss Q immediately pointed out. "Your protocol officer's son filled his head with silly notions about cowboys and the rest as they say is history."
"But you said I could find someone to play with." Quinn whined.
"Well you were certainly not playing when I found you," the boy's mother interrupted. "They were fighting."
"It was his fault!" Both boys pointed at each other in unison.
"Explain Billy." Mary made her son look at her.
Billy swallowed and looked at his audience nervously before regarding the bruises on his mother and deciding that he was just happy that she was not dead or injured any worse than she already was.
"We were playing, he asked me what I liked to do and I told him about Buck's program. He said that it was like a holodeck, that no one could get hurt really but when something bad happened to Julia, I tried to make him stop but he wouldn't." Billy explained.
"So that gave you leave to hit my son?" Miss Q asked sharply.
"Considering what he was doing," Mary came quickly to her son's defense. "Its something you ought to be doing to give him some discipline."
"My son is a member of the Q continuum. He is a special child!" Miss Q challenged with as much ferocity.
"I'm the only child!" Quinn shouted. "Its lonely!"
Everyone fell silent and looked at him as he went to Billy. "I thought you were my friend. I thought we were having a good time."
"We were having a good time," Billy replied, appreciating how Quinn felt all too well. "But I don't want to see anyone getting hurt. You killed Julia!"
"What?" Julia exclaimed.
"We'll explain later." Ezra said quietly and allowed the conversation between the two boys to continue.
"She would have been better," Quinn answered. "I would have made her better."
"I didn't know that!" Billy answered. "Its not the same for us. When we die, we don't come back."
Q approached his son and lifted the boy into his arms. "Quinn," the entity's voice became devoid of the sarcastic tone that was usual with all his speech. "Humans are very different from what we are. The little Vulcan is correct, when their life ceases, it simply does. It is not to be toyed with by us most of all but ought to be extinguished in its own time, as its destiny dictates. We are forever, that's what being omnipotent and immortal is all about. That's why we have to be very careful when dealing with humans."
"I didn't understand." Quinn said softly. "I only wanted a friend to play with."
"We can play," Billy quickly spoke up, finally realizing why it was Quinn had been so obtuse about what he had been trying to tell him. How does one explain death to a being who never has to fear it? He was a child himself and he had trouble understanding it let alone trying to impress it upon someone else. "We just gotta be a little more careful."
"I don't know Billy." Mary was dubious about this entire friendship. After all the damage that had been caused already, she did not know whether it was wise to let it continue.
"I agree." Miss Q responded, feeling Mary's doubt herself. "This human child is rather fragile and who knows what other bad habits you may pick up."
"Hey, my child isn't the one who can turn the universe upside down with a snap of his fingers." Mary said hotly.
"Which simply proves his inferiority...." Miss Q answered back in turn.
"Ladies!" Chris barked, silencing them both. "Let's get a grip here. Personally I can't tell either of you what to do but Mary, we can't always pick our child's friends for them and Billy's smart enough to know what's right and wrong, don't you?" The captain glanced at the young boy with a little smile. At both young boys actually. As much of a mess as this whole situation had turned out to be, Chris could not deny that he was could understand loneliness and sometimes the best friendships came from the ones borne out of adversity.
Mary let out a sigh and looked at her son. "Is that what you want Billy?"
"Yes mother." He nodded, giving Chris and Quinn a smile as he did so. For his part, Quinn stared at his own mother with a pleasured grin which disarmed the Q female considerably.
"I am assuming of course," Chris looked at Q. "That your son will be schooled in some basic safety procedures when dealing with mortals?"
"My son is omnipotent," Miss Q said proudly. "I am certain that he will have no trouble keeping his playmate safe."
"Hell, this has been one seriously weird day." Buck exclaimed.
"No kidding." Vin agreed and several others who felt the same way joined in his response.
Chris took a step towards Quinn, feeling himself unable to be angry at the child who reminded him so much of another that it almost hurt. Dropping to his knees so that he could look Quinn in the eye, Chris took a deep breath and responded. "Next time you want to play cowboys? Ask first."
"Really?" Quinn's pleasure was obvious.
"Really." Chris nodded and then looked at Vin and the others. "I think we can accommodate the young man can't we?"
Ezra did not answer at first but upon examining his feelings, found that could not hold a grudge when Julia was returned to him and things between them had were right again. "I suppose so but with a little schooling in basic safety protocols." The security chief gave the boy a hard stare.
"Well it was sort of fun, when people weren't dying." JD agreed.
"Speak for yourself." Alex shook her head, deciding that she would never like this program.
"Alex it will grow on you." Vin tried to convince her otherwise and garnered a dark glare for his efforts.
"You hope." Nathan chuckled dubiously.
Chris noted that Q was staring at him. "You surprise me Captain." Unlike before, there was no trace of the impish smirk or mischief making persona but rather a more serious and thoughtful expression. Q appeared as if he were staring at Chris in a new light.
Chris' brow shot up. "How so?"
"You're surprisingly tolerant." Q remarked, impressed by the kindness shown by this human to his son. Jean Luc was normally so adversarial and poor Kathy trapped in the Delta Quadrant was always cautious but he could tell that Chris was not so close-minded.
"I had a son once." Chris revealed. "I wouldn't like him to be lonely any more than you like your own son being isolated."
"Your son," Q nodded. "I remember. The one who was murdered along with your wife."
Chris' eyes widened as he stared at Q. "What?" His voice was almost a strangled whisper. "What did you say?"
"Consider this revelation my gift of thanks," Q replied as he prepared to send all these humans back to their ship, now that matters had been righted as much as they could be. "Your wife and son were murdered. The shuttle accident was no accident, it was premeditated."
"By whom?" Chris forced himself to ask.
Unfortunately, Q was not about to answer and his only response to Chris' request was another snap of his fingers.
Chris blinked as the bright light dissipated out of his eyes and he found himself on the bridge of the Maverick. He was in his command chair, wearing his own uniform, with no trace of the black garments he had worn in the Magnificent Seven simulation that Quinn had created. At the helm control, Vin was seated at his station, staring at him with just as much bewilderment as Buck who was placed next to him and Mary who was also out of her red dress was displaying. JD too looked similarly confused at his station and Chris did not have to turn around to see Julia, Ezra and Alex at their usual positions on the bridge. Only Billy, Josiah and Nathan were standing up, having no specific place on the bridge since most of their duties were carried out in their respective offices.
"Vin," Chris found voice enough to speak once the shock of returning to his bridge had faded from his mind. "What's our heading?"
Vin blinked, shaking his own disorientation away as his eyes dropped to the console screen before him. His brows furrowed at the readings and when he looked at Chris, his confusion showed. "We're still on course for Antaria, at the exact position we were when we disappeared off the bridge."
"Captain!" Alex spoke up. "I've just checked in with a subspace beacon. We're at the same point in time as when we left. According to the ship's chronometers and computer bio readings, we never left the ship."
"How is that possible?" Mary exclaimed shocked. There was on traces of the bruises on her skin inflicted upon her by Mr Wickes prior to her killing him. That at least gave Chris some comfort. Nothing else did.
"Easy enough when we're dealing with an omnipotence who can bring the dead back from life and create an entire world from fiction." Josiah pointed out.
"Yeah," Chris nodded as Q's last words returned to haunt him. "Easy enough."
Captain's Logs Stardate 16.25.02 - It has been a day since our return from that strange place fashioned by Q to mirror the world of the Magnificent Seven. As far as the ship was concerned, none of the crewmembers involved in the incident were registered as having left at all. In the meantime, we have arrived on Antaria as scheduled, where Lieutenant Travis is taking care of the preliminary requirements to begin the treaty negotiations between the two opposing factions. I will be expected to join her on the surface when the preparations are completed and the real work of diplomacy begins. The Maverick is now in a holding position above the Antarian home world and I have left Commander Wilmington in temporary command of the bridge.
For those of us who remember, the past day has left profound effects on all of us even if no one remembers that we were ever gone. No doubt many will be mystified by the sudden reconciliation by Commander Standish and Lieutenant Pemberton who have requested some personal time and since there is no immediate urgency that requires them at their posts, I have granted it. Besides, after what both of them had been through, they deserve the time alone. Presently, it is estimated that they have been locked in Commander Standish' quarters for the last 16 hours, I am assuming that they will come up for air some time.
For myself, the implications of what went on are deep, in particular the words left to me from Q. Was he toying with me, or did he really believe that the truth he supposedly revealed was a kindness? I do not know for certain. What I do know is that a seed has been planted in my head and where it will lead me I do not know but I have to follow it.
I have to know if Q was lying or was Sarah and Adam really murdered.
Chris did not know how long he was staring into space when he heard the door of his ready room chime. However, the sound took a few seconds to penetrate his consciousness before he finally recovered enough to utter a weak welcome to whoever was waiting entry. The door opened and Buck Wilmington walked into the room, pausing a foot away from this desk and observing him closely. Chris noted the expression on his face and immediately felt guilty even though he was not certain why he should be.
Perhaps it was the collection of data pads on this desk, the uneaten lunch that Yeoman Wells had brought him some hours ago, or just the darkness that had been prevalent in his eyes ever since they had returned from the facsimile world that Q had created for them. Buck could not say exactly but he knew something was terribly wrong for it reminded him too much of the look in Chris' eyes when Sarah and Adam's death was fresh in his mind. The memory gave Buck good cause for worry because he had seen how hell bent Chris had been on self-destruction and their friendship had not survived it. They were friends still but not they way they were long ago. What Chris shared with Vin Tanner was closer to what he and Buck had once had than the pale remnants that existed between them now. Buck had accepted the loss, knowing that to save Chris from himself there had to be sacrifices.
"What is it?" Chris asked shortly, his tone clearly indicating he did not like the intrusion.
"I just got a call from the surface." Buck said trying not to stare at the data pads or let his curiosity about them show.
Chris was seated in his chair, staring into the stars outside his window when he replied. "So?"
Buck shrugged uncomfortably, aware now that something was terribly wrong but uncertain how to approach Chris about it. In the past it was a simple enough matter to do so when they were friends but now, with Chris as his captain, the nature of their relationship that change quite a bit. While there was some informality in their manner towards each other, Buck was painfully aware of the line he could not cross. Buck cleared his throat and measured how he should respond in light of Chris' obviously bad mood and decided that the mission was too important for him to mince words.
"You were expected on the planet an hour ago." Buck retorted.
Chris blinked and swiveled around in his chair. "Damn." He swore under his breath as he noted the time on the chronometer at the corner of his desk and realised that Buck was right. Chris sat up immediately, "why didn't you tell me?"
"I was under the impression that I did not have to tell you." Buck answered. "Under usual circumstances, you're quite reliable."
"I am still reliable." Chris growled and started gathering the data pads into some sort of discernible order.
"Chris," Buck took a deep breath and plunged into a world of trouble but knew not what else to do. Something was clearly bothering Chris and had been doing so ever since they returned to the bridge. "What's going on? I have never known you to be late for anything. You're more aware than I am about how important these meetings on Antaria are. Mary's furious that you're not there already. We've known each other too long to play games, so tell me. What is it?"
Chris let out a deep breath, feeling the need to confide in someone and surely Buck of all people would understand what he was going through, after all Buck had been there at the time and he may know something that Chris had missed. "Before we were sent back, Q told me he was giving a little gift for being so tolerant to his son."
Buck had missed hearing the content of the conversation between the two although he knew words were exchanged prior to their return to the Maverick. "What was the gift?" Buck responded, almost afraid to ask.
Chris swallowed the lump in his throat. "He said that it was not an accident. That Adam and Sarah had been murdered."
The light of understanding flooded Buck's eyes and he whispered softly. "Jesus. Chris, you can't possibly believe that he's telling the truth."
"He said it was a gift!" Chris barked. "Why would he lie about something like that?"
"Why not?" Buck returned just as sharply. "Look at you! You've had this idea in your head for less than a day and look how it's affecting you! He's playing with you Chris!"
"I don't think he is!" Chris protested. "What if its true Buck? What if the shuttle accident wasn't an accident?"
"Who would want to kill Sarah and Adam, Chris?" Buck retaliated, seeing how much the idea had taken root in his captain's head by just the very suggestion of it and frankly it terrified Buck.
"I don't know," Chris retorted defensively. "But I've been going over the reports." He gestured to the data pads before him. "I found something."
"What?" Buck asked, not really believing it, more inclined to think that this was just an extension of a sick game that Q was playing with Chris' mind.
"After they died," Chris swallowed hard, needing desperately to convince someone so he would not feel like he was going insane. "I didn't look at these reports. I didn't see any point in it. You remember what I was like back then."
Buck did remember and it was his memory of those events that made him so concerned for Chris now. "I remember." He said softly.
"Well according to this," he handed Buck the data pad, which the first officer took reluctantly. "There was some unexplained energy spike before the crash. They don't know what caused it and did not pay much attention to it because it was not the primary cause of the explosion. As we know the plasma seals breached and the containment shield around the anti-matter dropped prematurely."
Buck studied the report and although some mention was made about the spike, the engineer who did the investigation chose not to pursue it because the cause of the accident had been clearly determined. However, Buck also could see there was just enough ambiguity in the existence of this mysterious spike to give fuel to Chris' suspicion that the accident might have been the result of foul play. "It says here that it might have just been a defective power chip. It's not uncommon and relatively harmless, certainly not enough to cause an anti-matter breach."
"But what it did?" Chris demanded. "What if someone did cause that spike and it somehow did cause the breach?"
"Chris!" Buck declared. "Let it go."
Chris stared at Buck as if he was insane. "How can you ask me to do that?"
"Because I'm your friend. They're dead Chris. Nothing can bring them back. Q may have been able to snap his fingers to bring Julia back but that is not going to happen with Sarah and Adam. They're gone. I miss them too and more than anything I wish they were here for you but this is going to hurt you more than you know." Buck was almost pleading and as he saw the revulsion in Chris' eyes at the thought of giving up, he knew that he had failed.
Chris stared at him with an expression of ice and whispered. "If they were murdered, if they were taken from me, I will tear this universe a part trying to find who did it and there is no way I will stop I find the truth."
With that, Buck knew that it was the truth and there was nothing more to say.
Despite the fact that Lilith King was still sick in bed and his mother was no longer on board the Maverick; Billy Travis did not feel neglected or alone. He had thought the senior staff would be mad at him because of what he and Quinn had put them through but they had been surprisingly understanding even though the captain seemed a little preoccupied. Billy had spent some time with Vin and Alex today horse back riding, which was infinitely more pleasing to the science officer's disposition than the Magnificent Seven simulations whether or not produced by the holodeck or Quinn. Still, Billy could not help deny missing the company of the new friend he had made, despite all the trouble that had come from their association.
Besides, Quinn had really neat parents.
As Billy now understood it, Quinn was the first child born to the Q Continuum ever. Before Quinn, the Q simply were but with his birth, other members of the Continuum learnt that they were just as much a part of the cycle of creation and death as the rest of the creatures in the universe. Of course, with the Q, death was purely a matter of personal choice. Billy could not imagine a time when he would ever wish to die but apparently some members of the Q desired it after they had experienced everything there was to experience. Even an evolved Vulcan mind like Billy's could not truly comprehend what the Q considered to be everything but he assumed it was a lot. Quinn himself had been named after Quinn, the first member of the Continuum who chose to voluntarily die. He had been something of a radical and a hero to the Q that had plagued the Enterprise and Captain Jean Luc Picard respectively.
Billy made his way to Holodeck 2 where he would be having his next lesson on surfing, courtesy of Lieutenant Rain who was so much fun to be around, it was hard to believe she was adult sometimes. However, Lilith had a word that best described the transporter chief although Billy still felt a little odd using it. Lilith called Rain, 'real cool.' As for surfing, Billy could not discern what possible use the activity could be but he liked the water, unaware that most Vulcans did not like engaging in pastimes in the deep since native Vulcan had very little surface moisture. He supposed it was another failing his paternal grand parents would point out when they saw him again but brushed aside the concern for now since they were not here.
"Hello." Billy heard a voice beside him as he was walking down the corridor towards Holodeck 2.
"Quinn!" Billy exclaimed with genuine pleasure seeing his newest friend, in very much the same appearance and clothing as they had met initially.
"I thought you might want to play." Quinn asked with a hint of hope in his voice as he made the inquiry.
"Sure," Billy grinned, "your mom didn't mind?"
"No," Quinn shook his head. "My dad said he'd take care of it. What about yours? Is she still mad?"
"No," The Vulcan shook his head in answer. "She's down on the planet talking to the Antarians."
"Do you want to go visit her?" Quinn asked. "I've never been to Antaria."
"You can do that?" Billy gasped, still coming to grips with just how powerful his friend was.
"Yeah," Quinn nodded. "I can. Do you want to go?"
"Better not," Billy said quickly before Quinn sent them both to Antaria where he was certain his mother would not be impressed at his sudden presence at her conference meeting with the delegates. "She's working and if we show up, she'll be upset."
"Oh," Quinn said crestfallen, still coming to grips with this whole notion of rules of conduct when it came to interacting with humans. However, he liked Billy so he was going to try, having remembered what his father had said about dealing with the species.
"Hey," Billy came up with an idea and looked at Quinn with a smile on his face. "Ever been surfing?"
THE END