Larssen was sitting on her bed when the door chime

went. She wasn't reading, or playing the cello, or

polishing her boots. She was simply sitting.

Not sitting and thinking. No, she was trying very

hard not to think.

The chime went again.

"Come in." she said.

It was Christine Chapel. "Hi, Cory." she said. "How

are you?"

"Fine, thank you. And you?"

"Oh, you know. Tired. Shaken."

"Guess you're pretty busy down in sickbay." Larssen

said.

"It's quietening down." Chapel said. "I came to see

if you'd like to join me - us - for dinner."

"Thanks, but I've eaten." Larssen said.

"May I sit down?" Chapel asked.

"Of course, please." Larssen said.

Chapel moved a flat box from the room's only chair to

sit down. As she did the lit slipped, revealing a

length of material. "That's a lovely colour." she

said.

"It's a dress. Janice bought it on Starbase 18. We

saw it in a shop there."

"And you couldn't afford it?" Chapel's tone was

relentlessly interested.

"I didn't want it." Larssen said flatly. "Janice

stayed back in the shop. I thought she was buying

something for herself."

"And instead she was buying something for you. That

was thoughtful of her!"

"No, it wasn't. She knew I didn't want the dress,

and she couldn't push me into buying it, so she went

behind my back." Larssen said. "She meant well."

"You can wear it to the end of mission party." Chapel

said.

"I don't think so. Why don't you wear it? The colour

would suit you."

"The colour would suit *you*." Chapel said. "More

than it would suit Janice."

Larssen took a deep breath. Sooner or later, she'd

have to say it out loud to someone. It may as well

be now. "I'm going to resign my commission." she

said. "So I won't be attending the party."

"You're - what? But why?" Chapel pushed the box and

dress to one side and sat down on the bed beside

Larssen, taking her hand.

"I can't stay in Starfleet." Larssen said.

"But why not?"

"Oh, Ifni, Chris, because -" Impossible to tell her

the truth. "I was going to fail the exams. Before

the emergency. Fail them badly."

"Exams aren't everybody's strong suit." Chapel said.

"The brass know that. There'll be other

opportunities. Field promotions. Sulu got one."

"Well, maybe. But there's - other reasons." ~Reasons

I'm not going to tell you.~ "I mean - now I know -

Whittaker's been talking all over the fleet. Saying

things -"

"Oh, what's that got to do with anything?" Chapel

cried. "Cory, who cares about the nasty old gossip of

a nasty old man?"

"Because it isn't gossip!" Larssen said, suddenly

realising that this was not the distraction she had

intended but as close to the truth as everything she

hadn't wanted to say. "It isn't gossip, Chris, it's

true! Everything he said, all of it, it's true!

That's why I can't stay in Starfleet! That's why I

can't wear this dress!" She shook the insubstantial

garment at Chapel. "Look at it! I've spent every

day since then trying to erase - erase - erase 'Lay

Down Larssen'! If I wear this dress I'll confirm

everything that people think and prove I've haven't

changed at all!"

"Cory, Cory, Cory, hush now, hush, hush." Chapel

said, putting her arms around Larssen and stroking

her hair. "It's all right. It's all right."

"It's not all right!" Larssen said.

"Yes it is. Yes it is. Hush now. Hush." Chapel

stroked Larssen's hair and rocked her for a while.

"You know, Cory, when I was at nursing school, there

were always a few of the boys, in our school or from

the medical school, who thought it was clever to take

a girl out, give her too much to drink, sometimes

even drop something *in* her drink, and - well - take

advantage of her. We looked out for each other, and

the decent boys looked out as well, and when some

scum was found doing it he was expelled, and

prosecuted. It's a crime, Cory, it's not your fault -

"

"It *is* my fault." Larssen said, pulling away and

fleeing to the other side of the room. She couldn't

tell - she couldn't not tell, she couldn't let Chris

go on feeling sorry for her when she didn't *deserve*

pity, she couldn't deceive her - "It is my fault. I

knew what I was doing. I knew what they were after.

It wasn't because they got me drunk. I *got* drunk

to make it easier - easier - easier to *fuck* them."

"So you wanted to, so what. Cory, we all -"

"No, let me finish. Let me finish." Larssen clenched

her fists. "I didn't want to. But they *looked* at

me, Chris, and it stopped them from looking at me,

from seeing me. I could make them - I could make

them just see - a *hole*. And it worked. Nobody saw

me. They just saw the Starfleet Academy Slut. I was

a moveable gang-bang until Harry Pateman pulled me

out of the Pink Elephant with my panties around my

ankles and told me I was disgracing the uniform. And

I was. And I knew I was. And I've been in neck-to-

knee ever since to keep anyone from seeing me. I

can't wear that dress. I can't go out there and face

all those people now they can *see* me!"

"We've been seeing you all along." Chapel said.

"Cory. Listen to me. Come here. Come back here. Sit

down. There you go. We can all see you, Cory, we see

a fine, brave officer and a good friend." She took

Larssen's hand in hers. "Listen to me. It's not

uncommon for young people who feel insecure, maybe

even inadequate for their circumstances, to take

refuge from their feelings by misbehaving. If they

can't be good, they think, they'll be as bad as they

can be. You were very young, you were all by

yourself, you acted stupidly. That doesn't mean

you're that person for ever."

"I thought I wasn't." Larssen said, a lump of misery

in her throat. "I thought I wasn't, but I still am."

"Oh, you aren't. Nobody thinks you are. You've

never gotten drunk on this ship. I've never seen you

even take a drink. And even if you did, Cory, it's

not like those other cadets were exactly guiltless.

They *did* take advantage of you. What would you do

if one of the other crew turned up in your quarters

staggering drunk and announced they wanted to sleep

with you?"

"I'd take them back to their quarters, or get

security to do it if it wouldn't involve a report."

"Which is exactly what those boys should have done.

And if you got blind drunk and sat on Mr Sulu's lap,

it's exactly what he'd do. And if you got drunk on

shore leave and sat on a stranger's lap, any one of

us would step in and see you got back to the ship.

You know, if there'd been someone to look out for you

back then, it'd be nothing but one embarrassing

memory, and that's all it should have been, and

nobody with any sense would think differently."

Chapel rubbed Larssen's shoulders. "Don't resign

from Starfleet over it, for god's sake, Cory."

Larssen put her head in her hands. "You make it

sound so unimportant." she said.

"Youthful indiscretions usually are." Chapel said.

"It doesn't feel that way."

"Spending your whole life trying to live it down

gives it an importance it shouldn't have." Chapel

said. "Promise me you won't resign from Starfleet

over it."

"I promise I won't resign my commission - over that."

Larssen said, a promise she could keep and break at

the same time.

"Promise me you'll try to think about it all as a

mistake, not as the truth of your character. Promise

you'll forgive yourself."

"I'll - try."

"Promise me you'll keep the dress."

"I'll keep the dress."

"Promise you'll wear it to the end of mission party."

"I'll think about it."

"Promise-"

"Oh, for Ifni's sake!" Larssen said. Chapel grinned.

"I wondered how far I'd get." she said. "Next up was

signing over your surplus calories until we make

Starbase 33."

Larssen laughed. She couldn't help herself. "Nice

work, Counsellor." she said. "You can report back to

Dr McCoy that you left the patient much improved in

mood."

"I'm not here as a counsellor." Chapel said. "I'm

here as a friend. If I was here as a counsellor I

would have spent a lot more time saying 'And what do

*you* think?' and 'And how do you feel about that?'

and a lot less time telling you what to do."

"Chris." Larssen said as Chapel got up to leave,

"have you ever made a mistake? I mean, a bad one,

like mine?"

"Not like yours." Chapel said, pausing in the

doorway. "But a bad one, yes."

"And you forgot about it, in time?"

"No." Chapel said. "I still think about it. I'm

still ashamed as hell of myself over it." She

shrugged. "I try to forgive myself. I try everyday.

It's a long process. But it gets easier. It's

funny. Sometimes it's like you can't forgive yourself

until you understand yourself, and sometimes it's

like you can't understand yourself until you forgive

yourself."

"Well," Larssen said, "After Starbase 34 I understand

myself a hell of a lot better."

She managed to get Chapel to go away, eventually, by

promising to have dinner with her the night after.

Thinking she'd enter it into her schedule, because

there was nothing else in her damn schedule, Larssen

sat down at the terminal.

There were a dozen or more messages blinking away in

the queue. Cory - call me: Janice. Lieutenant

Larssen, hope you're well: Brand. Larssen, I hear

you aced the real-life dodge-and-scramble on Starbase

34, hope to see you in the gym and we'll put you to a

real test: Sulu. Larssen, you missed choir practice:

Uhura. Cory, quartet practice at eighteen hundred -

Cory, where are you - Larssen, give me a call - Cory,

answer your damn messages - Cory -

She took a deep breath, tucked a loose strand of hair

behind her ear, blinked back a fresh bout of tears.

Chapel had told her the truth. All these people

*were* her friends. They *did* see her, *her*, Cory

Larssen, not just another anonymous officer.

Then she thought, ~and if they only knew,~ and the

sick thump of dread came back to her gut.