Chapter 4: Chapter 1.3: Rise

      “Rise, rise?” the sound of a woman’s voice echoed through his dreams. “Rise, come on get up!” 

      He barely noticed the disturbance at first, he was so comfortably nestled in his own dreams. 

      “RISE!” The voice only grew louder, causing him to feel as if he were being dragged from the very pleasant field he had been running through. He had dreamt of that field every day since leaving his homeward of Cheve’s Landing. 

      Rise Righte groaned. He ignored the interloper tugging on his arm and saying his name. Brushing her aside, Rise rolled over onto his side then yanked the comforter over his eyes. 

      “RISE, your gonna be late!” The woman’s voice grew into a shriek. 

      A pillow smacked onto his head, the sudden jolt startled him awake.

      “What are you doing woman!” He threw himself up from under the sheets. His broad chest tingled as the cool recycled hair brushed his chest hair. 

      Dithy Perra, who had so ruefully forced him awake, sat next to him. Her hair was a mess, and her grey jumpsuit was zipped open down the center to expose her perky tits and tender copper flesh. Rise felt he was growing hard just looking at her.

      Rise rubbed his tired eyes and checked the digital clock over the doorway. Its red glow had often given him nightmare’s, appearing like a ghastly specter in the dark. According to the time, he calculated he had only slept for roughly four hours. Barely enough to dream. Not enough to feel rested.

      He slowly leaned forward so that he could sit next to the woman who so carelessly shared his small bed. As a luitenant of the Star of Argon he was assigned his own officers quarters. It was a small chamber, barely large enough for his bed and a tiny desk. 

      He was tall, his cropped black hair was starting to show hints of grey. The stubble along his chin and cheeks needed to be shaved, but for now he wasn’t focused on that. His dark blue eyes looked squarely into Dithy’s slender brown ones. He could get lost in those eyes. 

      A military uniform hanged on the clothes hanger attached to his closet. Even in the dark, he could tell it needed to be washed. It was yet another thing he didn’t feel like taking care of. The only thing he wanted to do, was spend more time like this.

      Dithy always looked beautiful. Even with her messy hair tarnished from hours of manual labor. Her shoulders were slender, although there was a layer of bulk from her years of toil and good eating. She was spacer, born and bred, but she didn’t look it. Not only was she in splendid health, but her demeanor was full of life. Judging by the way she knew how to play with his body, she had plenty of experience as well.  

      “I can see someone is finally up?” Dithy’s accent was the typical spacer’s tone. Smooth and genial, with chipped after tones. Some found it awkward, it was the accent built from an amalgamation of cultures and traditions coming from dozens of tribes going back to old earth. After traveling from one side of Federation space to the other, Rise had listened to them all. Each way-station, outpost, and colonial station, not to mention the void born serving on void ships, had a similar accent.

      Growing up on Cheve’s Landing, Rise had known the feeling of sea salt air filling his lungs, and the warm touch of a morning sunrise. Every time he spoke, he couldn’t help but find it cute how Dithy smirked at his own Albion accent. Rise felt his voice must’ve sounded strange to her. 

      Rise cleared his throat before speaking, “I was having such a wonderful dream.” 

      “I can tell,” Dithy wrapped her fingers around his firm shaft. He flinched as he felt her rough calluses gripping his skin. “Maybe I can help you remember what it was about?”

      Rise smiled at that. 

 

      Shortly afterward

      “The ship will leave in ten hours.” The captain of the Star of Argon spoke clearly in the officers briefing room. Rise stood among all the adjacent officers with his hands behind his back, and his eyes forward. Even though this wasn’t a military vessel, he struggled to shake off his training. Most the officers were former military as well, except for the few that came from the independent colonies. 

      The captain was a short and stubby man with a bull dog’s neck and a thick face. He looked like a street brawler, made for punching and taking hits, rather than a ship captain. Looks could be deceiving however. His acumen was perfect, his uniform crisp and clean, and his tone of voice demanded the attention of everyone in the room. Some referred to him as the Old Dog, while other had come to call him the Bull. 

      Captain Averite Taylor clearly had Russian genes flooding his veins, his sharp winter clear eyes, and pronounced cheekbones, reminded Rise of old slavic epic heroes he had read about as a child. The man’s thick Ural drawl gave Rise flashbacks of old war movies, the kind that made him thankful he had been born in a gentler age. 

      “I expect everyone to be at their stations and ready to enact journeyman protocols in one hour. We will remain on high alert until we have left Galli space. After that, be prepared for anything. The girl’s armor is thick, and she has a bite, but we are going into unmonitored space. Be wary, and be mindful of anything out of the ordinary.” The captain always seemed to refer to the ship as the girl. It was a spacer tradition that he had apparently adopted as his own.

      “Any questions?” The captain asked. 

      There were obviously none. Everyone knew where they needed to be, and what was expected of them. This meeting was more of a formality than anything else. 

      “Then your all dismissed, except for you luitenant Righte. I would like to speak with you privately.” The captain saluted his officers, who quickly returned the gesture before walking out. Within seconds Rise was alone with the captain.

       Rise could feel the hairs on the back of his neck itch, he fought to show no emotion as the captain looked over his data pad, and made a couple notes. The captains attention seemed to suddenly be focused on whatever he was reading, rather than Rise himself.

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      “What did you wish to speak about sir?” Rise knew it wasn’t polite to start the conversation, but wanted to get this over with.

      Captain Taylor glanced up from his data pad, then brushed the tablet aside. “Don’t call me sir in private, it’s in bad taste.”

      “But you are the Ca—“

      “Just shut up.” Captain Taylor cut him off. “I’ve reviewed all the passenger logs and manifests. I couldn’t help but notice we still have an opening that needs to be filled. I think you know what I’m talking about.”

      Rise sighed, his hands suddenly felt clammy. “Yes sir, I mean captain, I assume you’re referring to the comfort liaison position.”

      Rise felt uncomfortable about the role. In the beginning of space travel, the concept that this position would even be necessary was unthinkable. However, after a series of tragic mishaps, and catastrophic failures which only got worse as ships began exploring farther into space on longer assignments, it had grown evident that this role was necessary. These comfort liaisons were tasked with the job of pleasuring their assigned crew mates during long voyages. It was consensual, often highly paid, and strictly monitored. 

      There were generally two types of comfort liaisons. A standard transport of no less than five hundred crewman, were known to have about fifteen comfort liaisons to be available for those of mature age. Their sessions were monitored, and guarded by security personnel to ensure everything was safe. There were cases when things went terribly wrong, often associated with private ships or when gang affiliations were involved. The Pilgrim Corps, however, had practiced a perfect record of professionalism when hiring and keeping its comfort liaisons happy. 

      The second kind of comfort liaisons were tasked to specific officers only. It was seen as a perk of being an officer onboard a spaceship. These positions often paid even more.

      Rise Righte had no interest in hiring or accepting a comfort liaison for himself. He had Dithy, the ships own mechanic, at his pleasure. Not to mention he found the whole concept of comfort liaisons uncomfortable. It left a bad taste in his mouth. 

      “Yes, its corporate requirements that the role be filled. I’m frankly surprised you haven’t taken advantage of it yet.” Captain Taylor looked up at him with an inquisitive stare. “You realize the comfort liaison could be either male or female?”

      Of course he would assume that, Rise rolled his eyes.

      Rise had kept his past relationships to himself, and by not bragging about all his sexual exploits to the other officers, many had assumed he was homosexual. It wouldn’t matter if he were, but he found the insinuation humorous. He hadn’t divulged his relationship with the ships mechanic either, and had no intention too. 

      “I’ve been busy captain,” He lied. He felt it was better to let them think he was lazy than potentially homosexual, or with another crewmen from the ship. Inter-ship fraternization was highly disapproved of. It wasn’t strictly illegal, but still could lead to problems.

      “Not right now you not, get the position filled before you leave this room. There’s a short list of candidates on this.” Captain Taylor handed him the tatablet he had been looking over moments ago. “They’ve all been vetted as secure, clean of any diseases or abnormalities, and waiting for an answer.”

      “I don’t want some local Galli fish to float around me.” He didn’t regret using the slang Galli fish to refer to the people of the station. They were all grey, lean, and slimy to him. 

      “Are you rejecting an order?” The captains tone suddenly grew very grave. 

      Rise realized he was on thin ice, “No Captain, I’ll fill the position.”

      The captain seemed to relax. “Good. I’ll leave you too it. Be mindful, I’ll be notified of the position being filled. If I don’t see it before you leave, you might as well grab your gear and get off my ship.”

      Captain Taylor patted him on the shoulder, then swiftly marched out of the briefing room. Left alone, Rise fought his anger and looked down at the tablet in his hands. He slowly began going through the list. There were close to a hundred applicants. All of them seemed to be single women from the station who were desperate to leave. 

      He flipped his finger over the screen, his eyes glancing over dozens of entries at a time without any interest. 

      What would Dithy think of this? He wondered. Rise supposed he would have to explain to her that he was forced into this. It’s not like I have to actually sleep with her?

      His focus froze for a split second as one of the applicants caught his eye. Her skin was healthy and warm, unlike the sea of blank and sunless white. The birthmark just under her right eye also made an impression, like a signature that imprinted on his memory.

      That was the first thing he noticed, the second was her luscious blonde hair. It wasn’t something you normally found among spacers, those of Galli especially. Rise guessed she wasn’t a station native, perhaps maybe not even a spacer. He wondered what brought her all the way out here?

      Rise took a moment to think about it. The young woman was cute, although not exceedingly beautiful. Her narrow chin made her look more like a mouse with stark blue eyes. Even with her glasses, Rise found her ocean blue iris’s hypnotic to gaze into. They matched her blonde hair perfectly.

       “I wonder if the carpet matches the drapes?” He didn’t realize that he had spoken out loud. Luckily he was alone in the room. Not wanting to waste another second, Rise made entered his selection. Once the confirmation went through, he sat the tablet back down on the table, and proceeded to leave the room. The Captain was standing nearby, talking to a group of ensigns. 

      “Hope your happy Captain,” Rise strolled past with a pace in his step. He felt sick, with a pit in his stomach. 

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