Getting drunk at a party after a succeeded mission is never a good idea, but since the captain was paying for all the drinks you simply couldn’t resist, having more than you anticipated you’d be able to handle. One of your female subordinates who you’d rejected multiple times in the past found that this was the right time to jump at the opportunity of getting a taste of you.

The morning after your body was sore, and you were only able to remember snippets of what had happened the night before. Tears clouded your vision when you went to pick your clothes up, quick to go to your commander to explain the situation—however both him and every other colleague had nothing supportive to say. You still had to work with the same woman. She didn’t get demoted, expelled or as much as a scolding from anyone.

Your comrades would say things like — “you should’ve enjoyed it”, and “if that was me I’d be happy.” All because you’re a man. Feeling isolated in your issues you locked yourself in your room; after about an hour of just thinking a knock on your door steals your focus. The man on the other side is your lieutenant, Simon. The person you least expected to see.

“I know how you feel.” He mutters as he takes a step in, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Sorry ‘bout them.” He seems to have caught onto your earlier conversation with other ‘friends’, and he certainly isn’t happy about how they’ve treated the traumatic event.