[ON:]

Part of her hated the look on Patrick's face when she told him - for his own good - that it was over... and part of her just wanted to strike back.  Strike down the person or persons who had caused her and her family so much pain.... those who had forced her on to the path she was now on... to seek to save those from a similar situation which she had survived.  She hated those who used their power  - be it political or physical - to bring pain to others...  With all these thoughts flying through her mind, she walked with purpose toward the holodeck.  Saying those words to Patrick had been like a knife wound to her heart but he was better off without her. He deserved someone better.  His association with her would eventually get him killed.  Anyone she cared about was killed. She was cursed.  

Who could have killed her kind, loving, sweet hearted Annette.  A single tear slid down her cheek.  Elena quickly wiped it away and straightened her shoulders. Instead of feeling the pain she let anger over the injustice take control.  She wanted to wrap her hands around the man's throat and squeeze the very life out him. No, strangulation was to quick.  She'd use him as target practice for her crossbow.  First his left thigh then maybe an arm then the belly so he would slowly bleed to death. Or perhaps she'd use her dagger and cut him into small pieces. She wanted to make him suffer and beg for his life.

As she rounded a corner, she nearly ran over two engineers, so focused was she on her thoughts.  When one of them made a rude comment about her being like automation, she stopped and slowly turned to face them.  She said just one single thing in a low menacing voice, "Excuse me?"  The look in her eyes was probably not one that a Star Fleet officer should have as the two both took a step backwards and then turned and bolted, as if in fear for their very lives.  Elena said not a word toward the two who fled, but turned around and continued toward  her destination.

As she arrives, two crew-members exit HER holodeck laughing and having a good time.  One looks at her with a big grin.  "How are you doing ma'am?"  Elena looks at the woman.  Her eyes bore holes into the poor woman's skull.  The look has the desired effect as the grins disappear from the woman and her male companion.  She quickly grabs the mans arm and mutters something about having somewhere important to be... NOW!  Elena didn't even watch them go... she needed to kill someone or something and the sooner she did it, the better it will be for all concerned.


----

The setting was England, 1459  - The War of the Roses

Elena, dressed in a leather tunic and leggins, walked into the broad, shallow valley surrounded on all sides by sheer cliffs and frowning fells.  Small streams meandered across the edge of the valley floor.  A thin layer of ice covered the top layer but underneath ran a icy trickle of water. At the far end of the basin, halfway up the slope, a large castle was built into the hill.  It had been constructed of the native rock, and resembled an outcropping, part of the landscape. 

Tents from each army were scattered along both sides of the vale, as if tossed there randomly by some giant hand.  The challenge had been accepted by the White Rose.  Elena marched into the meadow  leading two dozen warriors across the  field in a howling charge. She was met by  Earl of Warwick and his two dozen, a bristling wall of swords and shields.  The bloodlust was thick  between the two armies.  

A cold breeze, sprang up.  A bank of dark clouds had appeared, threatening to release large white flakes of snow. A change of weather was on its way. The air grew colder.   There was a cry and both armies lunged forward in a frenzy.  It was a motley collection of soldiers, with armor and weaponry drawn from two centuries of warfare. Their weapons glittered for a moment in the sun before it was completely blocked by the ever darkening clouds.  Their breath was pluming into the cold air.  The warriors collided with a bone shattering thud into a melee of arms and legs and deadly weapons.  Blood splattered across the ground, and vintage curses rang out as individual warriors fought.

Elena had her sword in her right but fished a dagger from a sheath at her belt with her left and threw it, end over end, at a man a few feet in front of her.  It hit him in the neck he gasped then felt to his knees before he was trampled by the multitude of feet. Elena then drew her sword and thrust it forward, spinning in an aerial assault. She was quick and accurate. Sometimes she had to grip the hilt with both hands but she flowed gracefully from stance to stance killing men as she made her way through the valley. Sweat poured from her face, despite the coolness of the day. Her sword was everywhere, however, she grew a little careless when the numbers decreased and her arms began growing tired from the strain of the battle.

 Elena stepped apart from the melee to grab a breath.   A large muscular man suddenly approached and delivered a heavy blow to her blade near the hilt, it went flying from her hand. Elena froze for a moment, then leaped after her weapon.  She landed rolling, and scooped it up, then jumped to her feet bringing her body back into a defensive position. The man growled, driving her back furiously.  Sparks flew as their blades collided and their heated bodies steamed in the frigid air.  Their boots churned the meadow into a thick pudding of mud and ice. The man lunged and managed to get his sword in, cutting through the leather on Elena's sleeve drawing blood.  Elena grinned  even as she felt the blood soaking her tunic because the man had stepped in close. As he was drawing back his blade she shoved hers forward.  The sword sunk into the man's abdomen. She heard the wet sucking sound as she freed the blade. The man feel flat on his back staring up at the sky, the blood pumping from his body.

Another man took his place and Elena counter attacked as he lunged toward her.  His sword cut through the leather on her leg but missed the skin. Elena spun around and came around this time on the offensive. The flat of her blade slammed into her enemies ribs, slicing his tunic open blood soon coated the outside.  He grunted and stepped back.  Elena didn't let up she swung again this time her blade went low lacing out at his legs.  She drew blood again.  The man fell backwards tripping on something his sword flew out of his hand and landed a few feet away.   The holographic figure covered his face with his hands when she surged toward him with her sword raised, ready to run him through.   In her mind's eye she saw her adopted father, Henry.  She put her sword down. Her blood lust gone.  "Computer, end program."

The blood and carnage disappeared along with the cold surroundings.  There was nothing left but the black and yellow grid.  Elena's leather tunic was cut in several places but only her left sleeve  just below her elbow was stained with blood.   Several strands of hair had come out of her braid and tangled around her face that was streaked with blood.   Her breathing slowed to normal.  With her anger spent, the pain finally took control.  Elena slowly sank to the ground and let the tears fall.  Deep heart wrenching sobs escaped her lips.  She cried for Annette, for Henry and then for herself.   She didn't want to return to her quarters but she knew her time was nearly up.  Elena rose to her feet , wiped away her tears and squared her shoulders.  At least on the outside she would exude strength and confidence.

--

Once Elena was back in her quarters she stripped and stepped into the shower. Her muscles ached from the holodeck program.  She wrapped a bandage tightly around the cut on her arm.  Maybe tomorrow she'd swing by sickbay and have it looked at for now she wanted to just slip into bed.  Elena ran her hand lightly across the pillow next to her then pulled it into her chest.  She lowered her head and breathed in deeply.  A faint masculine scent still hung onto the fabric.  Elena closed her eyes thinking about Patrick and fell into an uneasy sleep with the pillow still clutched against her.

_____

Lieutenant Elena Turner
Chief of Security
USS London