A crackle of fire brought her mind back to the present moment, rising gently she spread her feet apart, and placed her hand on the hilt of her blade The jungle around her was lush and dense, illuminated only by her small fire. Five feet behind her the first enemy appeared he fired his phaser, which she dodged with a roll towards him, and pierced him just above his navel. As he vanished two more took his place, the bladed woman dispatched those with the same ease as the first.

"Computer, increase difficulty to level five," she yelled, and in response five enemies formed a semicircle in front of her. She felled the first, but a kick to her abdomen pushed her back a few feet. The enemies drew weapons of their own, mean-looking blades with a wicked curve, and advanced upon the woman. Metal on metal clashes filled the once silent jungle with sounds of battle, and one by one she defeated her foes, until only one remained.

"Computer, increase difficulty to level eight," her hard eyes stared down her target, "and remove the safety protocols, authorization Wilkes Beta Omega seven two." When the enemy's blade struck her own the vibrations nearly left her arm numb, but she parried and sidestepped his next thrust. He kept on her until he disarmed her. Tossing his sword aside as well he set upon her with his fists. This was the moment she craved, blood pulsing in her ears in a symphony of rage, arms and legs aching from attacking and deflecting. She didn't even hear the Holodeck doors open behind her, nor the command to end the simulation, until her moment disappeared in a shimmer, and she was face to face with the last person she wanted to see, Chakotay. His eyes spoke volumes, and so did his voice.

"Crewman Wilkes," he said her name with a hint of sadness, "I thought you were pass this." Chakotay's eyes were hard to meet, but she held his gaze.

"Yes, sir."

"Please, tell me what's going on? How can I help? Because the only way I know how to prevent you from harming yourself is to have an alert programmed every time you come into the Holodeck." On her thigh Wilkes could feel the sting of where she'd taken a kick, and her tongue tentatively touched the drying blood on her lips.

"This was only a training exercise, sir," she said flatly, "I only remove the safeties because in actual battle there are none. This quadrant is a dangerous place, with terrifying enemies, and I only want to be prepared to defend this ship and it's crew."

A sigh escaped him like air from a balloon; "I want to see you in my office tomorrow at oh-five hundred." He touched his hand to his brow after exiting the Holodeck, Chakotay wanted so badly to reach the young crewman, former Starfleet-turned Maquis - turned back to Starfleet again, because she reminded him so much of himself at a younger age.

"Is there something troubling you my friend," Kathryn asked from across the table, sipping at her late night tea.

He smiled a little, "You know me too well. Just an unruly crewman, she's shown up on my discipline roster a little too frequently as of late."

Kathryn nodded, rubbing the handle of her cup thoughtfully with her thumb, "With the incident a few weeks ago with the Saqifians I know a lot of crewmen have been having some difficulties."

It had been an average day for everyone aboard the U.S.S. Voyager, until hostile enemies had taken over their ship, slave traders looking for unique specimens across the galaxy. The more senior of them had been secluded, while the crew was separated and sorted according to proposed value. A risky plan had managed to save them all, but not before some of the more obstinate crew had begun the process of being broken in - and there were none more stubborn than Crewman Wilkes, save for perhaps the Captain herself.

"She's brave, and courageous," Chakotay told her, "she goaded them into taking her and none of the other young women. She's self-sacrificing, and extremely intelligent. However, in the end it's all about the fight for her and her chance to prove her superiority. I've never sent her on an away mission, I'm afraid she'll put someone else in harms way."

"I'm sure you'll be able to help her," Kathryn reached out and touched his hand, "if anyone can its you."

Sitting in front of her computer Cassandra Wilkes watched the data move across the screen, her fingers tapping every so often. Her Commanding Officer had decided she needed some time to think, and for the indeterminate future she was removed from Engineering to Diagnostics to go through the data banks and delete broken or useless data. The work was boring, but it gave her some time to think, and to reassess her position. Maybe it was time to consider alternatives to a life aboard a Starfleet vessel, to return to her ways that made her indispensable to the Maquis. Her loneliness was too much at times, and the reality of the crew's situation crushing. Even if they did make it home, there was nothing for her there. The program she'd run had a list of file locations with out of place data pieces, a couple of sensor readings she re-filed, some miscellaneous logs, and one text letter. The letter was in some obscure database that was hardly touched, and seemed to have no discernible origin. With a few flicks of her fingers she brought up the letter on screen.

"Dear Mystery Person, I never thought I would feel so alone. I did not believe that after so long by myself my heart could be broken, but it has been. At first, I didn't even realize I was falling in love. It was the little things, spending time with her, the light of her rare smiles, and the occasional touch. One of many sleepless nights later it dawned on me, and in that same moment I was damned. I know she loves someone else. I don't know the point of writing this all down, but I felt I had to see it to understand myself. I know I won't send this to anybody, because who could I tell? Signed, Mystery Person."

Cassandra reached out and touched the words; she could feel the pain of the person behind them. Somewhere on the ship there was someone suffering as much as she was with as much hope for reprieve. A strange feeling spread from her heart, along her veins and arteries and into the smallest capillary, a touch of hope mixed in with a dash of destiny.