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Date: Fri, 16 Jul 93 10:45:49 -0400

                           DEDICATION
     The following story, is dealing mostly with a violent crime, rape.
     It isn't a pretty story, because it isn't a pretty situation.
     I am writing it, loosely based on a friend of mine's on-going
     situation. She was just raped a little over a month ago.
     Why write a story about rape?  Simple.  The story isn't so much
     about the crime itself, as the results.  Who gets affected by it,
     how some of them deal with it, and most importantly, recovering
     from it.  
     I am dedicating this, my second Gamma Quadrant story, to everyone
     who has been victimized by this crime, because it is a hard thing
     to deal with, and, if I have written as well as I hope I have, 
     then maybe this story will help you all to know that there IS help
     out there, and that there ARE people who care, and people who 
     understand how you feel.
     And most importantly, to the victims themselves, that 
     IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT.

     I apologize for any inconsistancies that may arise when it comes
     to the psychological treatment. They will be my fault, and my 
     fault alone.  My research is totally based on what I have seen
     this last month, and what I have tried to do to help.
     And what other people have tried to do.
     
     Read on. I hope it helps someone out there, because my friend
     sure could have used something like it. Maybe I'll get lucky
     and help someone else out there.
    
     Scott.
::::::::::::::
Gamma.Quad.1
::::::::::::::
          Captain's Log: Stardate 66093.4
   We have returned to DS9 to recieve our new crewmembers from
   the USS FARRAGUT, which, I am told, just docked at the station
   a few minutes ago.  It will be good to be back up to a full
   complement again, after the battle at the wormhole.  Much of
   the crew has been sorely taxed, both by the double shifts we
   have all had to work, and by the emotional strain of losing
   so many loved ones in so short a time.
   Several weeks have passed, but time is not as fast a healer as
   so many would like it to be.


  Blake ended his log entry.  "I think I need a vacation." He muttered to 
himself, rubbing his grizzled chin.  He hadn't had time to shave.  
  "Captain to the bridge." Came the filtered voice of Victor Reese, his 
first officer.  It didn't sound terribly urgent, so Blake took a little
extra time to clean himself up, and get into his full uniform. 
  "On my way." He said.
  A few minutes later, he stepped onto the bridge. The main viewer was
focussed on the wormhole, which, by coincidence, had just opened to allow
a ship to pass through it.  "What's up, Vic?" Blake asked, taking his seat
in the command chair.
  "Our new crew is now beaming aboard, Captain, and I thought you might like
to meet them. I have had them beamed to the assembly hall, where they are 
waiting for you."
  "Ok. Shall we go, then?" Blake asked, getting up once again, and heading
back to the turbolift.
  "Of course." Reese replied, following him. The security chief, Kyla Munroe,
also followed the two of them into the turbolift.
  "Finally, and end to double shifts!" Munroe sighed, leaning into the captain's
arms, and kissing him gently. "I don't know if I could stand another one."
  "The same goes for all of us, Kyla." Reese said. "I've had maybe three hours 
sleep in the last fifty." Reese rubbed his eyes, accenting his statement.
  "Well, now it's over." Blake said, gently disentangling himself from Munroe,
as the turbolift was coming to a stop. "We'll be able to get back to a normal
schedule."
  The three officers stepped from the turbolift into the corridor, and made
the short walk to the assembly hall. The doors opened to reveal total chaos.
  Two Andorians were ferociously beating up on a Human/Andorian half-breed.
  Munroe seemed to vanish from Blake's side, and all three combatants were
lying on their backs in moments.  "No fighting on MY ship." She declared.
"Unless it's on the recreation deck, the holodeck, or with me. Am I understood?"
  The three stunned combatants nodded, shocked that they had all been bested
by a single human woman. "Yes, ma'am." The half-breed said. The other two
remained silent.
  "Who are you?" Munroe asked them.
  "Vashirat al'Thills." One of the Andorians said.
  "Driglya tel'Timmns." The other replied.
  "I am Willis Thompson." The half-breed replied. "Your new chief medical
officer."
  "I want you all in my office immediately following this gathering, to tell
me what exactly this fight was about." Munroe said. "Failure to be there
will result in dishonorable discharge from Starfleet."
  Blake smiled a little at the Andorian's reactions of shock.  Apparently
they were not aware that they could not be discharged for a fight, yet.
  "I guess I should welcome everyone aboard." The captain said, edging his
way through the crowd to the front of the room. He stood on the small stage
and faced the crowd.  "Hello. I'm your captain, Jonathan Blake. I'd just like
to welcome you all aboard, and let you know that I am available should any 
of you need me for anything. I can be reached via the ships communications
system, or in my quarters. For those of you new to Galaxy class starships,
we have several tours scheduled in the first three weeks of your tour aboard
the AGGRESSIVE. After that, you will have to ask the computer for directions."
  "I would like every one of you to get in touch with the head of your 
departments before the end of the day, to let them know you're hear. Also,
we are throwing a welcome aboard party in THE PIT, which you will have no
trouble at all finding. Deck ten, and follow the noise." The crowd chuckled.
  "Lastly, I want you all to know how glad we are to have you with us. Our
mission is one of the most important in Starfleet. We are exploring the
COMPLETELY unknown. The Gamma Quadrant. Out there, we will be on our own.
No back up ships if we have trouble. So you will all have to work very hard
to keep your sections in peak working order. Our nearest Federation contact,
with the exception of a few independant exploration ships, will be DS9.
Our subspace system has been modified so that we will be able to keep contact
through the wormhole, so contact  with your families WILL be possible during
our mission."
  "Good luck, everyone. See you at the party."
  Blake left the stage, and the new crewmembers milled about for a short 
while, talking among themselves. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed
the Andorians following Munroe out of the assembly hall. 
  -It's going to be an interesting mission.- Blake thought to himself, as he
reflected on the three Andorians fighting.  He didn't think it was the last
time he would hear about their differences.  
     *************************************************************
  Munroe sat in her chair in the security office, gazing evenly across at the
three Andorians, who had sense enough to look ashamed of their behaviour.
"You are Starfleet officers. What in the world can have possessed you to
start a BRAWL in front of so many other officers?"
  "I think I can explain." Thompson said. His skin was a lighter shade of
blue than the other two, and he also had both ears, and antennae. "The problem
is of race. Andorian half-breeds are all but unheard of, and there is a good
deal of prejudice against them. My appearance here was a surprise to these
two young men, and I simply over-reacted to their remarks. The whole incident
was my fault."
  The other two Andorians gaped at Thompson, mouths hanging open in surprise.
  "Is this true?" Munroe asked.
  "Yes, ma'am." The two Andorians said together. 
  "Very well, then. Mr. Thompson, you are hereby ordered to restrain yourself
better from this point on. If I hear of any other such occurence, I will not
be so lenient."
  "Yes, lieutenant." Thompson said, nodding his head. "Thank you for your
understanding."
  "Dismissed." Munroe said.  The three Andorians left in a hurry.
  Munroe checked a few instruments in her office, then shook her head, and
left as well, heading back to the bridge.
     **************************************************************
  Gregory Stalin leaped into the open air of the Null-G game area, hurling
the ball as hard as he could toward the goal. From out of nowhere, his 
opponent appeared, and snatched the ball from the very lip of the hole that
was the goal. Stalin cursed, and bounced off the wall heading back toward his
own goal for defence.
  His opponent executed a graceful double ricochet off the walls, before 
releasing the ball toward the ceiling. The ball bounced off the ceiling, just
out of Stalin's reach, and angled straight for the goal. Stalin found himself
trapped in mid-game area, with nothing to push off of.
  The score buzzer sounded, and on each of the six walls, the score lit up.
Fifteen to zero. Stalin had lost again.
  Sland pulled off his head-gear, revealing his Vulcan features. "A noticable
improvement, Mr. Stalin. You blocked a great many more of my shots this game
than in the last series."
  "High praise, indeed, from Starfleets Null-G champion." Stalin said, trying
to catch his breath. "Computer, restore gravity." Stalin slowly settle back
to the ground. "To be honest, I've been doing a lot of Null-G practicing
lately. I intend to give you a real game one day soon."
  "You give me a real game every time Mr. Stalin. You are a tenacious opponent.
Not easy to beat, by any means. You do not need practice at maneuvering, but
at shooting."
  "I know. But I figure, if I can get close enough to the goal, I can go for
short shots."
  "A logical conclusion." Sland nodded. "I will meet you in THE PIT for our
after game drink, then."
  "See you there." Stalin replied, heading off the game area.
     ***************************************************************
  Reese looked around THE PIT. It was crammed to capacity with senior staff
from each section, and the new crewmembers.  In the forward corner, a small
group of people were playing an old rhythm and blues song from the 21st 
century. Reese didn't recognize it, but thought it was rather catchy. Several
people were dancing, but most were talking amongst themselves, and making 
friends for the long tour of duty about to begin.
  "Commander?" A small, no, tiny woman stood before the commander. She was
barely five feet tall, and was extremely petite. She wore the red of 
engineering, and her rank was lieutenant j.g. .
  "Yes?" Reese asked, looking down to her slightly, without tipping his head
to accent her lack of height.
  "I'm Leslie Talen. We were in the Academy together. You tutored me in Warp
History."
  Reese nodded. "I remember. You got in the top five of your class."
  "Yes, thanks to your tutoring. Anyway, I was just wondering if you would 
like to, ummm, dance with me? Nobody else is really paying much attention to
me, because I'm so short."
  "I would love to." Reese said, smiling. He put his arm out for her, and she
took it. He then led her on to the dance floor, where he discovered that she
was quite a dancer. Not wanting to be outdone, Reese began to match her pace,
and within a few short minutes, the entire dance floor had been cleared for 
the two officers.
  The music changed to a faster tempo. A twentieth century dance song. Once
referred to as "techno". The two dancers began testing the others' limits
of speed, endurance, and flexibility, as they took turns doing moves, and then
watching as the other copied it.
  Again, the music changed, taking on a more harsh tone.  A Klingon piece.
Reese moved into the first position of the only Klingon dance he had ever
learned. Talen smiled, and took her own position for the same dance. The two
began to writhe in time to the music, in a semi-erotic, but strangely violent
manner. The two entwined in violent collisions, which would then switch to
soft movements for a few bars, before becoming harsh and violent again.
  When the song ended, THE PIT was filled with silence, except for the two
dancers' heavy breathing, as they labored to catch their breath from the 
exhausting dance.  The applause started from somewhere in the back of the
room, and quickly swelled to full volume.  The two dancers were swept apart
by the throng of people who wanted to shake their hands, or congratulate them
on their tremendous display.
  Reese smiled, and shook hands, and accepted drinks brought to him, and 
looked around to see if he could find Leslie Talen in the throngs. He didn't
see her, but could easily see the crowd of men that had suddenly developped
an interest in the tiny woman. He smiled to himself.
  "Excellent dancing, Victor." Blake said, making his way through the crowd.
"I wasn't aware that you were a dancer."
  "I studied dance a lot when I was young, before I joined Starfleet Academy."
  "Had you ever danced with her before tonight?" Munroe asked, brushing her
bangs back from her eyes.
  "No. Never. I was surprised to find out that she COULD dance. I knew her in
the Academy, but she was always something of a wall-flower when I knew her."
  "Looks like she outgrew it." Munroe smiled. "She has quite a group of 
admirers now."
  "Yeah.." Reese said with a smile.
     ***************************************************************
  The party wound down, finally, at 04:30, and the officers all headed back 
to their respective quarters.  Leslie Talen was escorted back to her quarters
by Ensign Gabriel LaFontaine, a tall, dark haired man.
  She invited him in for a drink, and he accepted with a smile. "I would love
to." He said, bowing slightly.  The two entered her quarters.
  "What would you like to drink?" Leslie asked, moving to the replicator unit.
  "Coffee is fine." Gabriel replied, seating himself on the sofa. He looked 
around the room, which was decorated with engineering charts on every wall.
"Engineering is your life, eh?" 
  "Yes. I want to be cheif engineer on a starship one day."
  "An admirable goal."
  Leslie sat down beside Gabriel, and leaned back into the plush sofa, and 
yawned. "I'm just about ready for bed." She said, while yawning.
  "I'm glad you said that." Gabriel said, turning to face her. He leaned 
forward, and kissed her. Hard.
  "Hey!" She managed, as his hand crept up her thigh, squeezing hard. "Cut it
out!"
  Gabriel ignored her, and began pulling at her clothes. She tried to yell
for security, but he cut her off with a hard slap. "Try that again, and I'll
do more than just slap you." He said. All the friendliness was gone from his
voice, and there was a wild look in his eye. "You said you were ready for bed."
  Leslie tried again to push him away, but he was too large for her. She 
didn't dare scream again, or he would hurt her.
  His insistant hands forced their way over her body, and she bit back another
scream as she felt his hands forcing her legs apart. -God, let it be over.-
She thought.
     ******************************************************************
  Leslie lay on the floor, trying hard not to make too much noise.  Gabriel
stood over her, fully dressed now that he was finished. "If you tell anyone
about this. Anyone at all.... I'll kill you.  If you doubt me, go ahead and
tell. I will make sure you are dead before they can catch me."
  She looked up at him, fresh tears welling in her eyes, and nodded.
  "You remember that." Gabriel said, kicking her in the ribs. "One word, and
you're dead."
     ********************************************************************
::::::::::::::
Gamma.Quad.2
::::::::::::::
  Munroe lay on her bed, an old book in her hands.  Tom Sawyer. She had read
it dozens upon dozens of times.  If asked, she could probably recite the 
whole book from memory.  "Computer, dim lights to ten per cent."  The lights
dimmed appropriately.  She lay back on her bed, and closed her eyes, the book
open across her chest.
  The comm. system beeped. "Lieutenant Munroe, please report to your office."
Came the voice of one of the security guards.  "We have a security emergency
that requires your attention immediately."
  "I'll be there in a minute." She said, jumping from her bed. "Computer,
I need a uniform, normal specifications."
  "Ready." The computer said.
  Munroe all but jumped into the uniform, and was halfway to the turbolift
before she had it all done up properly. -I hate this job, sometimes.- She
thought to herself. -They never have an emergency while I'm on duty. Always
when I'm asleep.-
  She stepped into her office, to see the two Andorians she had dealt with 
earlier in the day, both in restraints, and both apparently beaten rather 
badly. "What happened?" She asked, preparing herself for the worst.
  "We were attacked in the sonic showers by several human officers." 
Vashirat explained. "They were trying to paint our skin red. We defended 
ourselves."
  "Gentlemen, you are the victims of a crew initiation gone wrong." Munroe
explained. "The paint is harmless water base. It's all in good fun. Everyone
who has come aboard has had something unusual happen to them."
  "I was not aware there was such a tradition." Driglya said. "It was not 
mentioned in our Academy training."
  "It wouldn't be. It's a surprise. Generally, each new crewmember has a 
harmless prank played on them before their first week of duty on board is
done with.  You just happened to get picked for being the first victims."
  "I see." Vashirat replied, nodding thoughtfully. "Are we, then, to retaliate?"
  "No." Munroe said. "Initiation is the crews way of seeing what you are 
willing to put up with.  To see if you have a sense of humor. If you will
retaliate, you will likely find yourselves victims of a great many more
practical jokes, throughout your tour of duty."
  "May I ask, Lieutenant, how you were initiated?" Vashirat asked.
  "My uniform was beamed off of my body, during my 'welcome aboard' meeting
with the captain. It wasn't on this ship, though."
  The two Andorians chuckled. "Thank you for explaining this tradition to us."
Driglya said. "We were not aware of it's nature."
  "Just, don't do anything to get even, ok?"
  "We will not." The two Andorians said together, as their restraints were
removed.  Both seemed to be in much better spirits now that they understood
the nature of the 'attack'.
     ****************************************************************
  "Entering the wormhole, sir." Rourke reported, as the main viewer lit up
with the spectacular display that was the wormhole.  She felt a twinge of
nervousness about passing through it again, as the AGGRESSIVE had been through
quite an ordeal on the other side, not too long ago.  She had been trapped
on the bridge with Taleel and Reese, and had had to kill several of the 
invaders, when they had actually reached the bridge.
  She desperately hoped that those cat-like aliens would keep their word, and
not return to destroy the wormhole.  Just the thought of being stranded in
the Gamma Quadrant made her shiver.  It was years and years out of Federation
Space without the wormhole's near instant transport.
  "Very good." Blake said. "Once we're through, plot course heading 23 mark
110, and engage at warp two. I want sensors at maximum sensitivity, while
we look for inhabited worlds. Also, keep an eye out for any other space-faring
vessels. I don't want any surprises this time."
  "Aye sir." 
  The path through interdimensional space vanished, and revealed the Gamma 
Quadrant's stars. Rourke laid in the course, and the stars began to streak
past as the AGGRESSIVE entered warp space.
  "I'll be in my ready room. Please inform me if we come across anything of
interest." Blake walked over to the door. "Ensign Rourke, you have the bridge."
  "Aye." Rourke replied with a smile. -Command! Of a galaxy class starship!
An ensign in command!- Rourke barely restrained the urge to spin around in
her chair. Next to her, Ensign Taleel chuckled to herself.
  "You get all the luck." Taleel said, with mock disgust and jealousy. 
  The two ensigns laughed quietly, and went back about their work.
     **************************************************************
  Sland looked over at monitor station three, and saw that it was unoccupied.
Curious, he went to his own console, and called up the duty roster for that
shift, and saw that Lieutenant jg. Leslie Talen was supposed to be on duty.
  He called up her duty record, and looked through it. She had a spotless
record. "Computer. Time please."  The computer replied, and Sland was informed
that the shift had indeed started over ten minutes earlier.  She was 
unacceptibly late.  "Computer, locate Lieutenant Leslie Talen, please."
  "Lieutenant Talen is in her quarters." The computer replied.
  "Computer, summon Lieutenant Talen to Engineering, please."
  The computer beeped it's response.
  Sland tapped his comm badge. "Sland to Lieutenant Talen." No answer.
"Computer, medical status of Lieutenant Talen."
  "This system is not equipped with a medical scanner for individuals." The 
computer replied.
  "Sland to Lieutenant al'Thillis. Report to engineering please."
  "On my way, sir." The Andorian replied.
  A few minutes later, the Andorian entered Slands' office. "You wanted to 
see me, sir?"  The Andorian seemed a little bit nervous.
  "I need you to take charge of engineering for a short while. I must go and
check on someone."
  "Very well, sir."
  "Take monitor station three, while you are here." Sland said.  The Andorian
nodded his reply, and Sland left engineering, heading for crew quarters.
  Sland stood outside Talen's door, and pressed the chime button. There was
no answer. He pressed it several more times. "Computer, open this door."
  "The door is locked." The computer replied.
  "Override. Authorization Lt. Cdr. Sland. Alpha three five nine Gamma."
  The door slid open, and Sland stepped in. Before him, on the floor, was
Leslie Talen, naked, and huddled into a small ball in the corner of the room.
She was bruised in several places. "Medical emergency. Deck eight. Crew
quarters. Female officers only." Sland said. He could tell what had happened
from the way her clothes were torn and strewn on the floor. Male medical
officers would probably frighten her.  
  Sland entered the room, and closed the door behind him, but kept his 
distance from Talen, because he was not sure how she would react to his
presence.  So far, she had not acknowledged him at all.
  Short minutes later, three medical officers arrived. All female. Sland
let them in, and they quickly absorbed the situation. "Thank you, Mr. Sland,
you can leave now." One of the medical's said, then she tapped her comm
badge. "Medical team to Munroe. This is a security matter. Meet us in sick
bay, please."
  "On my way." Came Munroe's reply.
  Sland left, and returned to engineering.  He went to his office, and 
spent the next several hours pondering this unusual development aboard
the ship.  Such crimes were all but unheard of, in this day and age.
He also spent several hours drawing up schematics to include medical scanners
in the main computer, so it could give such assessments without there having
to be a manual check.  He would have to coordinate this upgrading with
the new Chief Medical Officer.
     *****************************************************************
  Thompson looked up at the four women standing around the bio-bed out in
sick bay. One of them was the security chief. The other three were other
doctors.  They were dealing with the only patient currently in sick bay,
Lieutenant Leslie Talen, who had been the victim of a beating.  At least,
that was what the ladies had told him.  He was sure there was more involved
that a mere beating.  Beatings did not render the victim catatonic very 
often, in his experience. Especially not with all the stimulants available.
  Talen had not moved in any appreciable way since she had been brought in.
Thompson wanted to go out, and find out what was going on, but every time
he did, the women all glared at him, so he went back to his office.
  Thompson satisfied himself with watching discreetly through the window.
They were obviously waiting for Talen to come out of her catatonia before 
doing anything.  He stood up and walked into sick bay, this time ignoring
the women's angry glares.
  "I am chief medical officer here, and I will NOT be told where to go in
my own sick bay." He said, drawing himself up to his full height, which was
still several inches shorter than Lieutenant Munroe. "What happened?" He
demanded.
  Munroe looked him up and down. "This woman has been sexually assaulted."
She said flatly. 
  Thompson nodded. "I thought as much. Have you found anything that might
identify the perpetrator?"
  Munroe shook her head. "No. Whoever it was apparently knew what to do 
to avoid our scans. No finger prints. No residual cells even! So there's
not even a chance for a DNA scan to figure it out."
  "Impossible." Thompson said. "Nobody can be THAT thorough."
  "I had my men check the whole of her quarters. There was no residual cell
material anywhere. Not even from it's previous occupant."
  "That would mean that whoever did it had created a sterile feild within
the room." Thompson said. "That's not something that a lot of people could
do."
  "That's true." Munroe said, thoughtfully. "I'll have to check that out."
  "Do that." Thompson said. He was fairly sure that there were not very many
people aboard that could manage such a feat.
  Munroe tapped her comm badge. "Munroe to LaFontaine. I need you to run a 
check on something for me."
  "Sure thing. Name it." Came the response.
  "I want to know who aboard this ship has the necessary expertise to set up
a stasis feild within crew quarters. Check ALL personnel. I want that done
by yesterday."
  "Sure thing." He replied again.
  Thompson nodded at Talen, who had once again curled into a small ball.
"I think she heard something familiar." He said.
  "Beg your pardon?" Munroe said, looking down at Thompson. 
  "She curled up when she heard your LaFontaine's voice." Thompson said.
  Munroe looked at Talen. The tiny woman's eyes were wide with fear.
"LaFontaine, Munroe again."
  "Yes ma'am?" Talen cringed as the ensign's voice came over the communications
system.
  "Nothing." Munroe said. "Forget it."
  "I think we know who did this to our little lady." Thompson said.
     *****************************************************************
::::::::::::::
Gamma.Quad.3
::::::::::::::
  LaFontaine smiled to himself as he called up the information that Munroe
had requested.  He was seventh on the list.  He took a casual look around,
and then deleted his name from the list.  It wouldn't matter then, that he
had been seen with her. If he was not shown to have the knowledge required,
he would be eliminated as a suspect.
  After checking through the list, he began to systematically erase all traces
that his name had been brought up on the list.  Sure, there were a few people
who could still reconstruct the traces, but why would they bother?  With a 
few simple words, he would be able to easily shift all the suspicion to 
just about whoever he wanted.  Crime was so rare these days, that people
would take anyone's word as fact, because there really was no need to lie.
  It made things so much easier.  No really deep investigations. People
were all so dependant on the computers, that they almost always took their
readouts as fact.
  His work on the computer finished, LaFontaine turned from his desk, and found
himself face to emitter with a hand phaser.  He followed the length of the
arm that held it, long, slender, and full of strength.  Lieutenant Munroe.
  "Ensign LaFontaine." She said, slowly and clearly, her eyes daring him to
try something. "You are under arrest for the charges of assault, sexual
assault, and conspiracy to commit said charges.  You will come peacefully,
or I will rip your testacles off, and shove them down your throat."
  LaFontaine slowly raised his hands. He knew better than to try to take Munroe.
She was far superior to him in hand to hand combat, plus she already had a 
phaser trained on his face.  
  "She told, didn't she?" LaFontaine asked, keeping his voice controlled.
  "Actually, she's still catatonic. She reacted to your voice over the 
communicator." Munroe said. "Now get up, slowly, and turn around."
  LaFontaine turned. "You don't need to instruct me, Lieutenant. I know the
procedure quite well."
  "I'm not falling for that one, LaFontaine. The minute I touch you without
instruction, you've got a shot at an assault charge yourself. This one is
by the book."
  "Can't blame me for trying, can you?" 
  "I can blame you for a lot of things.  It's interesting to know that you're
a level four computer programmer. Your record only says level two."
  "I am only level two." LaFontaine said.
  "Bullshit." Munroe said. "We monitored your whole search from the next
room over, including deleting your own name from the list. Very clever work,
that."  She took his hand, and put the manacle on it.
  LaFontaine made his move.  She had to put the phaser away to place the 
manacles.  He spun, swinging wild, and was felled by another phaser's stun
blast. Fired by Captain Blake.
     *****************************************************************
  Reese stood in THE PIT, looking out the forward window.  The stars were 
streaking by, as the AGGRESSIVE continued to move through space at warp two,
as if nothing was wrong.  But something was.  The world he had known for
so long had just been changed dramatically, with the attack on his old friend.
  He found it odd, that he was having more difficulty dealing with this
problem, than he had had in dealing with the many deaths that had so recently
happened on board, during the wormhole battle.  But, then, this was very 
different from that.  This struck much closer to home.  He had been pleased
when Leslie Talen had suddenly had so many male admirers in THE PIT, only
the night before.  He was, in a way, responsible for what had happened.
  If only he had said that he couldn't dance with her, then none of it would
have happened.  He shook his head.  Thinking like that would get him second
guessing all of his decisions.  He had made a decision, which had helped her.
Something terrible had happened as a result, yes, but when he thought about
it, he realized that if it hadn't happened then, then it might have happened
another night, to someone else.  Who could predict the minds of people like
LaFontaine?
  "Reese to sick bay." 
  "Thompson here. What can I do for you, Commander?"
  "How is Lieutenant Talen doing?" He asked, then cleared his throat, as he
felt it beginning to tighten.
  "She is resting comfortable, sir.  Otherwise, there is no real change in
her condition."
  "Thank you, Doctor."
  Reese went back to staring out the window, and thinking.
     *****************************************************************
  Rourke glanced at her sensor readout, and saw that another vessel was
approaching at warp three.  It was, according to her readings, a transport
vessel of some sort.  She summoned the captain to the bridge.
  Within a few short minutes, Blake was on the bridge. "What is the situation?"
He asked, taking his seat in the command chair.
  "We picked up what appears to be a transport vessel on long range sensors.
It is on a definite intercept course. Sensors show no weapons of any known
kind, and it is running with sheilds down."
  "Thank you." Blake said. "Have we got a point of origin for it, yet?"
  "Negative. It's origin is unknown."
  -Great.- Blake thought. -Another First Contact. Just what I don't want.-
  "They are now within visual range." Rourke reported.
  "On screen."
  The ship that appeared was a short, squat box-like ship, not unlike a 
very old shuttle craft, only it was bigger.  Blake estimated that it could
probably carry several thousand tonnes of cargo. "Hailing frequencies."
He ordered.
  "Open." Munroe replied. "No response yet."
  "Give them some time. Maybe they don't understand our language."
  Several minutes later, a human appeared on the screen. Or, at least, a 
being that looked completely human.  "Greetings." It said. It had a high
pitched voice, though it appeared to be a male. He had long brown hair, kept
in a tight pony tail, and deep green eyes. "From the Galactic Empire of the
Botas. Ours is a peaceful mission of exploration, and we would like to meet
with you about your possible joining our Empire.  You are obviously tech-
nologically advanced. I am sure that a union of our Empire, and your world
would be mutually beneficial."
  Blake smiled. "Amazing." He said out loud. "Another Federation on this side."
  The alien smiled. "I am Rik'tha Kline of the Bota vessel, JASPER. Please 
allow me, and a diplomatic party to beam over, so we can meet."
  "It would be a pleasure, Rik'tha." Blake replied.
     *********************************************************************
  Reese stepped into the detention room of the AGGRESSIVE, and told the guard
on duty that he could leave.  The guard nodded, and left the holding area to
go to THE PIT for a short while.  The first officer walked over to the cell in
which LaFontaine was being held.  "You made the biggest mistake of your career,
mister." He said.  "Did you really think you would get away with it?"
  LaFontaine looked back coolly, through the force screen that held him. "Think
I could?  I have gotten away with it on twelve different planets, and aboard
four different starships. I KNEW I could."
  Reese smiled. "You think quite a bit of yourself, don't you?"
  "Someone has to look out for number one."
  "So when you attacked Leslie Talen, you were looking out for yourself?"
  "She wanted it. Anyone at the party could attest to that."
  "Computer, drop this forcefield." Reese said. In a flash of light, it was gone, and Reese stepped into the cell.  He grabbed LaFontaine by the collar, and 
hauled him off the ground. "If she had 'wanted it', she would not be in a
catatonic state now. Did she want you to beat her up too?" Reese slammed 
LaFontaine's head against the wall of the cell.  "Did she ask to be hospitalized?" He hurled the ensign across the cell, and charged across, kicking the ensign
in the ribs before he could recover his balance.
  "Tell me, LaFontaine... Do you always pick the smaller women? What's it like
against someone your own size?" He threw a punch, and smashed LaFontaines' nose
and the ensign fell back against the wall, and did not move. 
  Reese turned around, and found Kyla Munroe standing behind him. "If I had seen
this you would be in a lot of trouble, Commander Reese." She said. "Get out of
here before I have to open my eyes to it."
  "Yes, Lieutenant." Reese said, wondering how she had gotten there so fast.
He left the cell, and the security area, but found himself not at all satisfied
with what he had just done.  It hadn't helped Leslie at all, and really hadn't
done anything to help his mood either.
  True, Leslie Talen was an old friend of his, of sorts, but violence in 
return for violence simply wasn't solving anything.  Leslie was the one that
needed the help now.  Beating up her assailant simply didn't solve anything.
     ********************************************************************
  Blake stood in front of the control console in transporter room four, wearing
dress uniform.  Ensign Taleel stood next to him, also in dress uniform.
  The officer on transporter duty checked his instruments. "We're ready to 
beam the Botans over, sir." He reported.
  "Energize."
  A few moments later, a five man party of Botans appeared on the transporter
pad, all wearing form fitting uniforms, with sashes and medals, which implied
that these were their dress uniforms.  The leader of the party, Rik'tha, 
stepped down from the pad, and greeted Blake.  "Captain, it is so good of you
to have us visit your wonderful vessel.  I have spoken with my superiors, and
are eager to have your world join our Empire.  We have never seen a ship of
this configuration before. Tell me, what world do you come from?"
  Blake smiled. "If you will follow me, we can discuss  all of this over
dinner.  There is a great deal for us to discuss, and it will take us a great
deal of time to cover it all." He turned to Taleel. "This is Ensign Taleel.
I apologize for not having my first officer here, but he was detained with
some engineering rescheduling that had to be taken care of."
  Rik'tha bowed deeply to Taleel. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
  "Now, if you will follow me." Blake said. "I will show you to your quarters,
and then we can procede to dinner."
  "An excellent idea, Captain."  The Botan said.  He made a gesture, and the 
rest of the Botan party stepped down from the transporter pad.
     *****************************************************************
  Dr. Thompson handed Sland a medical tricorder. "It's power rating is very 
low compared to the ships computer, remember."
  Sland nodded his head. "Thank you, Doctor. This will prove most useful in 
the future."
  "Glad I could help."
  The tall, thin figure of the cheif engineer left sick bay, sparing the 
briefest of pauses at the foot of the bed of the only patient, Leslie Talen.
Thompson remembered that Sland had been the one to find her, and felt a 
flash of sympathy for the Vulcan, who probably had no idea of how to deal
with a situation like this.  Not that he was doing very much better.
  He looked over at Talen, and saw that she was looking back. Aware. He
stood from his desk, and slowly walked over to her. She reacted as he had
expected her to, by moving backward in her bed. "Nurse Rails to sick bay,
please." The doctor said, backing away from Talen again.  She relaxed a bit
as he backed away.
  "How are you feeling, Ms. Talen?" He asked, in the most soothing voice he
could muster.
  "Thirsty." She said. "And hungry."
  "I'll see to it that Nurse Rails gives you something, then."
  "Thank you, Doctor." She replied.  A few moments later, Rails walked into
sick bay, still wearing civilian clothes, she noted with a look of shock,
that Talen was concious, and aware, then proceeded to Thompsons office.
  "Just get her some food, for now, please." Thompson said. "I'll have to do
some reading to find out how we have to go about this, from here on in. With
violent crimes like this so far in the past, the treatment for them is all 
but forgotten."
  Rails nodded, and went out to help Talen in any way she needed, while
Thompson called up old medical papers on the computer, and began reading.
     ********************************************************************
::::::::::::::
Gamma.Quad.4
::::::::::::::
  Leslie Talen looked around her quarters.  The rooms had been cleaned since
she had last been in.  For that, she found herself immensely grateful.  She
wasn't sure she would have been able to handle cleaning up the mess created
by.... by...  She started to cry again.  She couldn't even think about it.
  Quickly, she ran into her bedroom, and collapsed on the bed, and let
herself cry, until the tears stopped.  
  -I thought you said you wanted to go to bed.-  LaFontaine's words came back
to her, over and over again.  She had invited the man into her room for a 
drink.  That was all. -Or was it?-  She shook her head.
  -Admit it to yourself, Les. You wanted it.-
  Angrily, she punched her pillow. "I DID NOT!" She shrieked at the wall.
"I never wanted it to happen!" She fell off the bed as she hurled the pillow
across the room. "I never wanted that." She whispered, as she struggled back
to her hands and knees.
  She looked at the bed. The blankets were all rumpled up, as if someone had 
just... She ripped the blankets from the bed, and hurled them across the room.
She looked around the room, suddenly sure that she wasn't alone anymore.  HE
was back. LaFontaine.  She rushed into the washroom, and locked the door.
He couldn't get at her there.
  -Noone will ever get me again.- She thought to herself, silently vowing 
never again to be a victim.  Even if it meant killing someone.
     ****************************************************************
  LaFontaine paced around his cell.  He couldn't feel much, beyond numbness.
Reese had pounded him well.  His nose had been set, and mended, but still 
hurt.  
  He looked out at the two guards.  Both had been his friends, before he had
been caught.  Now, they both looked at him as if he were a Romulan, or a
Cardassian.  The hatred in their eyes was so evident, that he was afraid to
even speak to them, for fear that they would do to him as Commander Reese had.
  He would find no pity from any of the guards, and there was no chance at 
all that he would get any visitors. So, he was stuck in the cell alone, with
nothing to do but pace, loudly.
  His trial would be soon. The AGGRESSIVE was heading back to DS9 for that,
as soon as the negotiations with the Bota's were finished.  A week at the 
most, and then, he would most likely be sentenced to the Zenith Penal Colony.
  Sitting down, he sighed.  He could live with that.
     *******************************************************************
  Blake shook hands with Rik'tha Kline, as the alien stepped back onto the
transporter pad.  "It was a pleasure meeting you." He said, as the alien
smiled back at him.
  "I am sure that a union of your Federation, and our Empire, will be
mutually beneficial in many ways." Rik'tha said.  
  "Indeed. It will save both our people years of research, in charting 
each other's respective quadrants."
  "And then there is the scientific exchange."
  The two nodded at eachother, and the Botans shortly beamed back to their
vessel.
  Blake felt elated.  With a single chance meeting, he would have more than
two thirds of the Gamma Quadrant charted for the Federation, and would have
opened a massive trade of knowledge and goods.  It was too good to be true.
     *********************************************************************
  Thompson pounded his fist on his desk. "This is ridiculous!" He shouted, even
though there was noone else in his office.  Everything he had read so far on
the treatment of victims of violent crimes had pointed out that group therapy
would be the best for the victims, so that they would be able to see that they
were not the only ones that it could happen to.  The problem was, that in this
day and age, crimes like this were all but unheard of.... especially on a 
starship.  Where in the universe would he get more people that had suffered 
through any kind of crime like this?
  He slumped back in his chair.  "It's impossible." He said to himself.
"There just aren't any other rape victims I can possibly reach."
  "That's not true at all." Nurse Rails replied. Thompson jumped at the sound
of her voice. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts, that he hadn't heard her
come in.  She was dressed in full uniform now. The blue of a medical officer,
with her ensign pips clipped on at the neck. "I'm sure that if you went through
the personel files, you would find that several of the crew members had to 
endure similar things on their colony worlds at some time during their lives.
Not everyone comes from crimeless Earth, you know."
  Thompson considered for a few moments, then nodded. "You're right. But then
the problem comes in with asking them if they are willing to discuss those
events with other people.  It is, I understand, a very personal thing, and
not at all easy to discuss."  
  "That's true, but those that have gone through it in the past, have already
recieved the help they need, and, if I'm right, they'll be more than happy to
help out a fellow officer like Leslie Talen.  People who have survived crimes
of this nature tend to be very willing to help others forced to go through it.
It's sort of like a maternal instinct."  Rails smiled a little.  "You may as 
well look, Doctor.  It's the best shot you have right now."
  Thompson rubbed his antennae thoughtfully. "Yes, you're right." He said after
a few moments more of consideration. "It probably is my best shot."
  "Shall I notify the ships counsellor?" Rails asked.
  "Not just yet." Thompson said.  "I think we should get one of his assistants
to deal with this.  A female should run the group I think.  For Ms. Talen's 
peace of mind."
  "Good idea." Rails replied.  "Would you like me to help you scan the files?"
  "Please."
  Rails stepped over to a second console, and began punching in commands. 
Thompson followed suit a moment later, and the two began poring through personel
files on the entire crew of the AGGRESSIVE.
     ***********************************************************************
  Stalin bounced off the wall of the Null G ball play area, and collided with
Sland, knocking the ball loose.  The two players 'fell' to the bottom
of the play area, and began searching the air for the ball.  It was drifting
about five feet above Stalins head. He leaped for it, and began executing a
flip as he grabbed the ball, in preparation for the opposing wall, and the
subsequent push toward his opponents goal.
  Sland propelled himself toward his goal, rather than try to beat Stalin to 
the ball.  It was obvious that he wouldn't beat him to the ball, so he chose
to play defensively.
  Stalin came at the goal, angling to come in over Sland's head. The Vulcan
used the wall to elevate himself more to Stalin's level to block the high 
shot.
  Stalin, with a sudden kick at the top of the playing feild, propelled himself
to the bottom, and shot from below the Vulcan, scoring an easy point. The 
score lit up on the walls. 14-1 in favor of the Vulcan.
  The human science officer twirled around as though he had just won the game.
"Finally!" He shouted.  Through observation ports, he could see a number of
spectators cheering for his accomplishment.  A point against Starfleets 
champion.  
  Sland watched the human's capering for a few moments.  He could almost
understand the reaction.  It was, for Stalin, quite an accomplishment, after
so many weeks of being totally shut out from the goal.  Logically, a compliment
was in order.  "Nice shot." Sland said, though the flatness of his voice took
away some of the effect he intended.
  "Thanks" Stalin replied.  "Ready for the next point?"
  "Of course." Sland replied.  "Computer, launch ball."
  The ball fired out of the Vulcan's goal, in a random direction, which was, in
this case, right into Stalin's waiting hands.  Sland pushed off from the wall, sstraight at the human.
  Stalin, unprepared for a tackle from the Vulcan, was knocked off his feet, 
and felt the ball pulled from his hands.  He drifted helplessly in the middle 
of the play area, while Sland scored the final point.
  "You always catch me off guard when you start playing physical." Stalin 
complained, as Sland ordered gravity restored.
  "That is, of course, the point.  You do not expect me to play physically,
because I generally do not. However, I find it to be rather refreshing to
make the game a little more rough than I normally play it.  And it is also
very good to keep in practice.  The ENTERPRISE player, Lieutenant Worf, plays
a very physical game, and has come close to defeating me on a number of 
occaisions."
  "I see." Stalin laughed. "So I'm a test dummy?"
  "In essence, yes." Sland replied, almost, but not quite smiling.
  "Guess I owe you another drink." 
  "It would seem so." Sland said, stepping out of the game area. "I shall meet
you in THE PIT as soon as I am ready."
     **********************************************************************
  Munroe pressed the call button on Leslie Talen's quarters.  There was no
reply.  She waited a minute, or so, then pushed the button again.  Still no
reply came.  She paced in front of the door for a few moments, then pushed
the button yet again.  Once more, there was no answer.
  "Computer, security over-ride this door. Code 598 gamma 12."
  "Security over-ride complete. Enter when ready."
  Munroe stepped forward, and the door slid open.  Leslie Talen's quarters
were a shambles.  Everything had been thrown around, broken, or damaged.
  The security chief drew her phaser and set it on the lowest stun setting.
"Hello?" She called. "Anybody home?"
  The only answer was a sound from the washroom.  The door was closed, and
the door muffled the sound so as to make it unrecognizable.  Munroe went over
to the door, and tapped on it lightly.  There was a shuffling sound from within.
  "Who is it?" Came Talen's voice, tight, strained, and obviously exhausted.
  "Lieutenant Munroe." She replied patiently. "I came down to see how you were
doing."
  The door opened, revealing Talen, with her hair now cut short, almost down 
to the scalp.  It was not a flattering style for her.  Her brow was furrowed
with a deep, and angry scowl.  "As you can see, Lieutenant." She said, tightly
through clenched teeth. "I am just fine."
  Munroe took a step backward, in surprise.  "Yes. I see that.  I was wondering
if maybe you would like to go down to the recreation area for some exercise."
  This idea was spawned by Doctor Thompson, who had asked Munroe to get Talen
down for some exercise, because exercise was an ages old way of relieving
anger, stress, and other hostile feelings.
  "Thank you for the invitation, but I have already booked myself time on the
holodeck." Talen replied.
  "I see." Munroe said. "Well, then, I guess I'll see you later."
  Munroe turned and left the room, not wanting to look around at the mess of
broken furniture again.  For some reason, she found the whole meeting with
Talen to be very unnerving.  She entered a turbolift, and told it to take
her to sick bay.
  "Well?" Thompson asked as Munroe entered, his antennae pointing toward her
showing his eagerness for an answer.  
  "She said that she has already booked herself some time on the holodeck."
Munroe replied, sitting on the edge of the doctor's desk.  "Her quarters
were pretty much destroyed, probably by her.  Everything was overturned and
broken."
  Thompson grimaced. "She is feeling very hostile, then?" He asked, though he
already knew the answer to his question.  Munroe nodded. "Were there any other
significant changes that you noticed?"
  "Yes." Munroe said. "She cut her hair very short. Almost to the skin."
  "Thank you, Ms. Munroe, for being so helpful in this matter. I shall 
contact you if I need your help again." Thompson said.
  "No problem." The blonde security cheif replied, turning to leave.
  Thompson turned to Nurse Rails, who was still diligently pouring through
personel files.  "Any luck?"
  "Lots." Rails replied.  She turned the console she was working on for Thompson
to see.  There was a list of seven crew members who had once been victims to
pretty much the same crime.  

Avens, Lisa
Cresswood, Tanya
Lindon, Marie
Landon, Christine
Munroe, Kyla
Rails, Jennifer
Talen, Leslie

  Thompson looked at Nurse Rails in surprise.
  "You?"
  "Yes. Me." Rails replied. "When I was very young.  That's why I've been 
volunteering for everything about this case.  I thought I had dropped enough
hints for you to guess without ever having to see this list."
  "Looking back on what you said, I see them as hints now."
  "I figure, since I minored in psychology, and have also been through it,
I could lead this group for Lieutenant Talen.... with your permission, of
course."
  "Yes." Thompson replied. "Absolutely. I can't think of anyone more 
qualified."
  Rails nodded. "Thank you, sir."
     *******************************************************************
::::::::::::::
Gamma.Quad.5
::::::::::::::
  The small lounge was neatly decorated in light grey and dark blue.  There
was a small coffee table in the centre of a circle of seven chairs.  Nurse
Rails stood looking at the newly created room.  True, it was not real, being
only a recently created program for the holodeck, but it was sufficient.
  On the holodeck, she could do a lot more with therapy.  She could help
them with visualization, and run old programs or news reels regarding similar
situations, to hopefully help the women feel more at ease.  Some of the women
who would be attending had long since put the events that gave them common 
ground with eachother far behind them.
  The nurse was grateful beyond description that the others were so willing to
help Leslie Talen get through her time of difficulty.
  "Time of difficulty." She muttered to herself sarcastically. "HA! That doesn't
begin to describe it."  Her training had tried to kick in, and she was downplaying the problem to herself, so that she would not find her self emotionally 
drawn into the therapy.  She had to remind herself that she needed a profes-
sional detachment from her patients.
  Patients?  No.  They weren't patients.  They were victims.  They didn't 
deserve to be treated as anything less than that.  Each of the women who
would be attending these sessions had been violated in some way, and each of
them deserved every ounce of her compassion.  Lord knew that she could have 
used more compassion when she had gone through the same thing.
  She wiped at her cheek, and was surprised that her hand came away wet.
Tears, after so many years.  "I was only ten years old." She said to herself
out loud.  "I didn't even know what was happening at the time. Only that it
didn't feel right."  She stamped her foot in anger.  "I didn't know it was
wrong. How could I?"
  She sat down heavily, in the well padded chair she had programmed.
  "I can't let it get to me now." She muttered. "I have to be strong for Leslie.And the rest of them."  She clenched her hands into fists, and forced herself
to stop crying.
  It wasn't long before the other ladies arrived, for the most part, as a 
collective unit.  All of them were dressed in their civilian clothes. Among
the women of this group, there would be no rank.  No titles.  Just a sharing
of feelings. Of hurts.  And, with a little luck, a cleansing, and even a healingof sorts.  Not that these sorts of wounds ever healed, but they could learn to
live with the scars more easily, if everything went well.
  Some things just can't be forgotten.

  Leslie Talen entered the holodeck, dressed in a loose fitting dress which
did absolutely nothing to flatter her figure, which everyone present knew
to be quite good.  It wasn't really much of a surprise, really.  Her hair
was back to full length, thanks to a cellular regeneration unit in sick bay.
  Talen had decided quickly that shaving her hair off had done nothing for 
anything, and had gone back to the longer tresses she had had before....
LaFontaine.  She managed to complete the thought without crying.
  "Hello, Leslie." Rails said, smiling a little, and offering her a cup of
hot coffee. "Please, join us."  She gestured to the empty chair, as Talen
took the offered cup of coffee.
  "Thank you." Talen replied, sitting primly in the well padded chair, not 
leaning back, but sitting with a stiff posture that was, to say the least, very
prim.  
  There was a long, awkward silence, as Rails went over in her head where to 
start.  There wasn't any good way to start.  What could she say?  What could 
she do to get things rolling?  Why had she offered to lead this group? Her
experience didn't cover anything even remotely like it!
  "Well." Christine Landon said, sipping her coffee.  Her hair was short,
and brown, matching her eyes, almost.  She wore a simple pantsuit, similar
in cut to a Starfleet uniform. "I guess someone should start by describing
what happened to them, to start things off. I'll volunteer."
  "Are you sure?" Rails asked.  The boldness of the brunette had startled 
everyone at the table.  "I mean, if you want to."
  "I'm sure. I've been through it a great many times." Landon seemed to be
very at ease with the situation, and her comfort quickly became a source of
strength for the other women in the room, Nurse Rails included.
  "I was fifteen..."
     *******************************************************************
  Gabriel LaFontaine lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling.  There was nothing
else to do in his cell.  The guards on duty were no longer paying any attention
to him, which suited him just fine.  
  He couldn't believe his bad luck.  Getting caught like that.  What a stupid
way to get caught.  Because the witch reacted to his voice.  "I should have
killed her while I had the chance." He muttered to himself.
  The guards showed no reaction to his speaking out loud.
  "You guys ever move at all?" He called to them, sitting up on his cot.
  The guards still showed no reaction.
  "Yeah. Fine. Screw you, too." He said, letting himself fall back onto the
cot.  He crossed his hands behind his head, and began counting the seams in
the ceiling for the thousandth time.
     *********************************************************************
  Reese stood in the centre of the bridge, watching as the Botan ship warped
away from the AGGRESSIVE.  "New allies?" He asked the captain as Blake stepped
onto the bridge.
  The captain was all smiles as he took the command chair. "Indeed. Rik'tha is
returning to Botan headquarters to make arrangements for their leaders to meet
with Starfleets top brass to make the union final."
  "Excellent." Reese said.  "I would say that our second real encounter here in
the Gamma Quadrant went pretty well then."
  "You bet your ass it did!" Blake exclaimed.  "All because of a chance encounter!  I can't believe the luck!"
  Ensign Rourke turned from the navigation console to face the two commanding
officers.  "Permission to speak freely, sirs?"
  "Granted." Blake said.
  "I think, that if the union becomes official, we should dedicate the entire
ceremony to those that we lost in our encounter with the Khephellians."
  "An excellent idea!" Blake said, enthusiastically. "I'll recommend it to
Headquarters when I make my report."
     *********************************************************************
  Leslie stood, with her back against the wall of the holodeck.  She had
been pacing the entire time she had been talking.  She couldn't sit still
when she talked about it.  She had to move.
  "I vowed, after it happened, that I would never let it happen again, even
if I had to kill someone to avoid it."  Her face was grim, and deadly serious.
  None of the other women in the room said anything, but each had a look of
understanding on their face.
  "It makes me wish that we still had a death penalty." Talen went on.
"How could anyone be so cruel as to violate another persons rights like that?"
  There was no answer to that question.  There never had been, and sadly,
there probably never would be.
  "I think that that's enough for our first meeting." Rails said quietly, 
standing up. "We'll meet twice a week from now on. Ok?"
  There were nods of assent from each of the women at the table, and they
all looked at Talen for her agreement.  After a few moments of consideration,
she nodded as well.
  -There might not be an answer to the question of what drives anyone to such
a crime, but thankfully, there are people out there who care enough to help
others through it.- Talen thought.
  It was a very comforting thought for her.  In only a few short hours with
these other women, she felt a bond form between them all.  A bond that would
last a lifetime, even if they were separated by lightyears.
  They would always have something in common.
  They were all victims of the most pointless crime in the universe, and
they would all be there for eachother, or for anyone else who was ever
forced to go through it.
  There was help out there.
  There were people that cared.
  And that was probably what made it easiest to go on.
  Knowing that someone could understand, and someone could help.


  


  It's common knowledge that only a small percentage of rape victims ever
report the crime, because it is personally degrading, and even humiliating
to admit that it could happen to the victim.
  Sadly, many of the victims don't realize that there is help out there
for them, both in the form of psychologists, or psychiatrists, or just
friends.  Not everyone can claim to understand the feelings that go with
being attacked, but the main thing to remember is that the people who care
will always be willing to help to make life after it easier.
  There is no excuse for violating a persons rights, or their body.
  Nor should the victims try to make excuses for not seeking help.
  Victims are just that. Victims, and can NOT be blamed for what happens
to them under any circumstances.  ESPECIALLY not because they dance in a
certain way (like in my story, a semi-erotic dance.. some modern dance steps
involve moves which can be interpreted the same way) or DRESS in a certain
way.  Just because someone dresses in a more revealing way does NOT mean
that said person is "on the make", or asking for any kind of sexual activity.
Those are the most common copouts used. "Look at how she was dressed, she
was asking for it."
  That simply is NOT TRUE.
  I can't claim to understand how it feels to be attacked. I'm male.
  However, as I said in the dedication, my friend was attacked recently,
and I want people to know about some things.
  As Leslie Talen realized (probably a lot sooner than anyone in the real world
would), there are people out there who care, and there are people who want to
help.  
  Thank you for your attention.

  Scott.

