You were shipped off to the practice facilities where young helms recruits learn the up and up of rig maintenance and get assigned to ships they had ranked into over the past sweep of training not too long ago. It was beautiful, the facility was bigger than any building you have ever been in before, and the false rigs set up were so beautiful. Boisterous and wiry and slick, wetter than they look in the images. You popped a wriggly in your uniform almost immediately, which you would’ve spent more time moping over if he got the chance.
The immense arousal from the fantasy finally translating to reality mixed into a horrible, foul smelling soup of guilt in your stomach knowing it could only happen at the price of your moirail. You really didn’t care about anything else you left behind. Alternia is ultimately just a worthless shit rock hurling its way through space, your patriotism ended where your libido did. Outside of that, you had no affection to the worthless excrement planet you just so happened to be hatched on. But you cared about her, more than anything. You were starting to think maybe you cared a bit more about her than the ship parts now in front of you.
Which, you would’ve been thinking more about now, if you weren't immediately jumped once you and your fellow cadets were left alone. They all saw it, the way you were shifting your legs and adjusting your pants in a way to hide your shame through the introductory period, the way you were sweating and looking around shifty. Sniffling, awkward. Like the twitchy pervert you know they see you as. When you were all guided down into the temporary blocks, some of the bigger golds from your rig training finally took matters into their own hands. Swirlies and name calling were one thing during your classes together, but you were officially adults tonight- and they weren’t going to pass up a chance to hand your ass to you one last time before they lose their limbs forever.
That was how your first night went. And your second, and your third. But on your forth, the group of cadets had finally been separated from each other. Segmented off into different ships belonging to different highbloods, as you were all high ranking enough to make it in with military officials instead of rinky dinky delivery ships. Something you took with great pride, something you found INCREDIBLY attractive about yourself, and something you were so thankful for. It couldn’t have come sooner. It’s horribly fucking embarrassing you have to meet your captain bruised like a kicked dog. You try to ignore it, like you try to ignore everything else. It’s easier now to lose yourself in denial now that your old ball and chain isn’t around. But the fact that she’s not dragging you down is bursting your hope bubble in a terribly circular way. Someone SHOULD be telling you you sound stupid, someone who isn’t the group of golds who fill their socks with rocks to really hammer in their words.
You slept alone on the forth night, and in the morning you would be introduced to your new captain. An indigo man, nothing close to Trizza. But you'd be stupid if you assumed you would've been Trizzas personal battery on your first stationing. You take what you can get- Indigo's better than a bunch of fucking clowns, and you can work yourself up from here. But in the moment, you curl up on the metal slab they had you sleeping on in place of a coup, chewing on your fingers as a way to sooth yourself. It was horribly embarrassing you were going to meet your new captain bruised and bloody, but you'd take it with pride as you've done countless times before. If anything- you might be able to sell that you can work well under duress from the start.
Thank god the worst part is probably over. It should just be smooth sailing from here on out, now that those inferior shit heads are gone. Smoooooooooooth sailing.
