Struggling, Ripley and Peter tried to climb back up the ceiling through the emergency latch. They're going to have to do something very stupid to escape their troubles and that involved hoping for the best.

The unevenness made it difficult for Peter to keep his footing, but he tried nevertheless.

Ripley slowly tried to pull herself up over the edge hadn't she almost lost her fingers to the latch suddenly closing on her and the resulting surprise caused Peter to lose his footing, sending them tumbling to the ground.

Unnerved, Ripley checked her fingers, just to be sure they're still on her hands and sighed heavily when she found all ten intact.

Peter asked if she's alright and she held up both thumbs as she exclaimed, "I'm not okay, but I still have my fingers!"

Considering the alternative, Ripely's just glad she still has her fingers and her hands.

Pushing themselves up from the ground, they worked to stop the rampaging tram as it picked up speed, unceasing.

They pulled away the cabinet walls of the control and tried to rewire the controls, however, it wasn't worth the effort. No matter how much they tried, they never gained control of the tram and instead it seemed as though the controls weren't using the conventional means.

It's almost like, the tram has life of its own, and hellbent on taking the two to their final destination.

"Come on!" Peter stabbed the control with the screwdriver, he did it several times until Ripley yanked him away. Peter's screwdriver bent and shredded from the constant barrage of stabbing that it's useless to him, now. Upset, Peter threw it to the side and crossed his arms.

He noted that if they tried the windows, it won't work, try the door, it won't open, it's like they're in a mouse box. Only someone from outside can open it and they don't know who it is, exactly.

"I don't suppose you got any other ideas, do you?" Ripley asked him.

Peter frowned as he admitted that he didn't have any other ideas. They tried almost everything that came to mind and even then, that didn't work.

He concluded, as much as he didn't want to, that they're in for a ride.

Whether they like it or not.

Ripley's baffled at this conclusion, but Peter nods as he affirmed that it's the only option they have at the moment. No matter what they did, they're never getting off the tram.

"We're on a crazy train!" Ripley exhaled as she pressed her back against the wall of the tram.

They had to watch the tram as it conducted itself and pray that it doesn't kill them gruesomely.

Getting snuffed out by a runaway tram wasn't on Ripley's itinerary.

Or anyone's, really.

Unhappily, Peter told her that, yes, they're on it until however long the tram saw fit, and they better get used to it, fast.

It's not something he wanted to tell her, but there's no other options for them to take, all the ones they tried so far didn't work, and he didn't want them to try anymore out of fear one of them gets hurt or worse.

"So, what happens if we die?" Ripley asked him.

Just in case this is their inevitable end.

Peter solemnly told her to make peace with herself and think about her happiest thoughts, it's all he can say.

Defeated by a tram, of all things, Ripley beside Peter, trying to do just that.

She recounted everything in her head up to when she inevitably done something, she never thought possible in her whole life.

Take a wild guess, there.

For once, she wanted to hear Matt call himself the Tickle Lord, even though its embarrassed Ripley to no end.

Daunted, the two waited for their inevitable ends as the tram continued it's trek across the sandy landscape.

For a little while, they thought they'd die in a crag somewhere, but in a twist, they didn't die an unceremonious death, rather something else.

Don't know how long it's gone on or how far, but the tram slowly stopped until it froze in place, the door behind the two opened on it's own as did the other doors.

Getting up from the ground, the two hobbled out of the conductor's station and off the tram.

They glanced around in their surroundings, finding they're somewhere else completely, and there's hills taller than they can reasonably climb everywhere.

No clue where they are or what purpose the stop was, the two looked at each other, baffled.

"Why're we here?" Ripley asked aloud.

Peter clicked his tongue against his teeth as he walked past her, hands in his pockets as the Les Paul bumped into his back as he walked.

"Just a wee guess, I think this is round two," Peter deduced.

Some reason, the tram sprang to life, and took them against their will here. All the times they're trying to solve their dilemma and here they are.

"Round two, but how did we win round one?" Ripley brought up as she watched Peter walk around, the sand reflecting off his sunglasses.

Ripley wasn't aware they did anything in particular. All they did really's just going through a laundry list and ending up trapped on top of a rock because of a sand worm. There's nothing they done to cause this.

"Remember, we agreed it's a trap," Peter spelled it out for her.

This was all one contrived trap and that knowledge caused the tram to come to life.

The reasons for the trap, well, Peter's not too sure, but it's evident that it only sprung because of them.

Nobody else got this far because they're not the intended victims. If they were, either they get spit back out or eliminated all-together. It's just one of those things.

"Why us?" Ripley balked.

Granted, Ripley may deserve some thrashing for the things she did, but she had good reasons for doing he things she did.

If there's anything positive Ripley could say about herself, is she's willing to take beatings for those she cares about. Full-stop, she'll take a beating if it meant someone who didn't deserve it wouldn't deal with it.

This, on the other hand, was overkill and Ripley met some interesting characters in her travels with Matt and the others that could've easily personified it.

"Well, could've easily be anything," Peter shrugged.

He suggested numerous things that sounded plausible to downright insanity when spoken aloud, by the time he's done, Ripley shook her head with an exasperated expression on her face.

"I don't think it's the student loan officer coming to collect his due," Ripley poked at him.

Shrugging, Peter told her that it's the thought that counted and that he didn't know what else.

Sighing, Ripley bluntly asked Peter if he done anything that might correlate to their situation.

It's evident that he's a traveler of sorts and he's no spring chicken by the looks of it. He's definitely had experiences dealing with people and things. If what he told her says anything, he's been at this for years.

As for Ripley, outside the obvious, she's traveled for almost three years with Matt and the others. Her experiences varied, but she learnt all the same how to deal with other people and things. She's no spring chicken herself, but it's clear Peter has seniority in that matter. Not just a jab at his age, of course.

"Maybe we just teed someone off?" Peter suggested.

Wouldn't be a first.

"Yeah, but who though?" Ripley tried thinking of someone they could've equally antagonized to the point they went as far as planning out a trap to capture the two.

There's a hundred adventures and counting they've been on and Ripley can't think of anyone that Peter could've met in between that time.

Peter the same, he couldn't think of anyone that fit the bill.

Uncomfortably, Ripley remembered Matt.

He'd be with them, too, on the account he's the Doctor and most of the adventures he's responsible for a lot of things that happened.

"Look, I have to be honest with you. I didn't come here by myself. I was coming here with someone. We shared many adventures with each other and if what you're saying is correct, he'd be with us," Ripley admitted to Peter that she came here with someone else.

Keeping it close to her chest, Ripley told Peter the bare minimum about Matt without saying his name or the title he carries.

Peter's confused as Ripley while he processed what she told him.

He agreed that Matt should've wound up stuck with them.

"Now, that's a clue," Peter roused with an idea.

As he glimpsed around the desert, Peter said that it seemed that they're the focal point in this. Matt wasn't because of some bizarre technicality.

Reasonably, they'd all be standing there looking like fools, but it's just him and Ripley.

"It has to be someone who's pretty sore with only us," Ripley concludes. "And if they have a bit of nepotism, they'd make it known who we're dealing with, right before our untimely demise."

Wouldn't be a first.

Let them ramble off theories and foolishly look for clues long enough that they'll be taken aback by the sudden appearance of whoever's behind the conspiracy.

"Right, yeah, problem is, I know a lot of them and all with reasons to want to kill me," Peter frowned.

Rather keep rambling, the two splint off trying to look for new clues, anything to pinpoint what they're supposed to do and who's behind it all.

Ripley scanned the darkened sand for anything and sighed as she walked through the coarse sand, pouring into her boots as she gotten into a deeper part of the desert.

Despite what one assumed, it's still not hot, pleasant, it's bizarre considering how high a temperature a desert could achieve any given day, but given their situation, it makes sense as to why it's so pleasant.

Someone doesn't want them to die too quick, not yet, and it meant keeping the desert temperatures from scorching them to death.

As she scoured for a crumb of a clue, Ripley tried to come up with a list of suspects had a bone to pick with only her.

It helped ease her fears about Matt, but left her with a big question.

Ripley wasn't a wallflower and wasn't afraid of getting into faces of any or anyone if pressed. The laundry list of people who'd want to pick a bone with her range from dead, disposed, and dealt with.

Even then, they'd have to know exactly when Ripley's coming to Helios at this exact time with Matt, work with the math given, and trap her without trapping anyone else.

It's bizarre and over the top.

Sighing, Ripley continued her search and didn't know what to look for. All she saw, sand, hills, and nothing else.

Walking aimlessly, Ripley tried to look when she caught sight of something and turned her head.

There's a figure on one of the distant hills, standing there. It wasn't Peter, not the same shape, and it didn't have his guitar sticking out.

It's a person and Ripley went towards the hill, drawn to them.

Good chance it's the person responsible for their woe and when she gets there, there's no chance she wants to chat about it.

Walking towards the hill, Ripley narrowed her eyes on the figure as she started making out details.

Tall as Peter, thin, wore a fitted jacket with an unidentifiable colour matching the fitted trousers, and a white dress shirt with four pearl buttons.

Face, a little blurry, and Ripley picked up speed, trying to see the face better.

Short black hair with grey lines on both sides. Seemed to have a neatly trimmed short beard.

Still no face and Ripley tried to get closer but the sand's starting to pour into her boots and weighing her down.

As she continued, Ripley suddenly stopped short as she looked up at the figure, it's clear to her now, who's standing on top of the hill.

Looking down at her, his purple fitted jacket barely fluttered in the silent breeze, his smile… his damn… damn… smile!

"Y-you!" Ripley barely got the word out as she's in shock at what she's seeing.

It's… him… but… how…?

Frozen in place, her eyes wide, Ripley fit a sudden pit in her stomach as she's looking up at the most dangerous man in her life.

She's afraid to move, afraid to do anything, the woman who vowed to kill him, and here she was, utterly afraid!

"H-how…?" Ripley barely spoke as the pit formed in her throat, trapping air as she's unable to break her concentration from him.

He didn't say anything to her, just stared down at her.

Unable to move, Ripley's forced to stare up at him, and felt her heart beat against her chest, trying to flee from him.

Ripley wished she could've done the same!

"Ripley!" she's broken from the trance by someone jerking her away.

Someone's shaking her and she blinked several times to see Peter standing there, worryingly, as he snapped his finger in front of her.

"Snap out of it!" Peter ordered her.

Pulling down her sunglasses, Ripley rubbed her eyes and looked up to see Peter looking at her, worried.

"Wh-what?" Ripley's caught off-guard.

Pointing behind her, Peter told her that she almost disappeared into quicksand hadn't he found her and yanked her to safety.

"What in god's name were you doing, lass, you could've died!" Peter scolded her for it.

He asked her what she was doing standing there like a cactus and when Ripley told him that someone's on the hill in front of them, he looked up.

Scanning, Peter shook his head as he told Ripley that there's no one there. Turning around, Ripley looked up and like he said, there's no one there.

Ripley swore seeing… him…

"Are you okay?" Peter touched the sides of her shoulders as she turned back to him.

Ripley wearily nodded.

Sighing, Peter led her away and as he did, he told her what he found.

"Right under our noses!" Peter exclaimed.