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Med Force Academy, Omicron Theta
He finished straightening out his bow tie in his quarters as he looked in the mirror. Was he getting too formal? Maybe so but he could always dress down a bit as needed. Behind him on his desk was a flower arrangement of hydrangeas, tulips, orchids, sunflowers, lilies, daisies, and carnations. Next to them was a bag which contained a teddy bear, some toys for a small child and a bottle of red Gallic Wine, his contribution for dinner. Once his suit was right, he put his datapad in his breast pocket as the two of them would have much to discuss.
A crisis was developing in Omicron Theta with food. The treaty with the Corsair Brotherhood and Deterrence wasn't well received by all. The Black Sails were about and weren't happy. Food rationing on Pygar was creating uprisings and the Wilde were showing not just a presence in the system but some teeth as well. When a peaceful entity such as Med Force Enterprises had to purchase weapons platforms for it's own safety, people became concerned.
Doc was back in Theta for awhile. Dr. Xi was doing a stellar job keeping things going but he didn't feel right leaving all of it to her. It was time to be present and help. Their new dental school would have his presence as an instructor while he would be in the region to perform surgeries as well. There was the subject of Med Force One and it's safety. Yes, there was much to discuss and he intended to spend some quality time with his niece, Anya. Ready as he would ever be, he grabbed the bouquet and the bag and headed for Jill's quarters.
As the door chime echoed through her quarters, Jill looked up from Anya’s latest masterpiece—finger-painted swirls of bright colors on a sheet of paper. Anya, perched in her high chair with paint smudged on her tiny hands and face, looked at Jill with wide eyes.
“DocDoc?” she asked, her toddler voice lilting with excitement.
“Yes, sweetheart,” Jill said with a warm smile. “DocDoc is here.”
She wiped Anya’s hands and face quickly, her heart warmed by the joy on her daughter’s face. The comforting aroma of her grandmother’s pot roast filled the room, and despite the swirling chaos outside the Academy, Jill felt a sense of calm knowing John was back in Theta.
Jill opened the door, greeted by the sight of John standing tall in his suit, holding a vibrant bouquet of flowers and a bag. His usual polished appearance was almost comically formal for her relaxed quarters, but it suited him.
“You didn’t have to go all out, John,” she teased lightly, her gaze softening as she spotted the teddy bear poking out of the bag. “But thank you. You’re going to spoil Anya.””
“DocDoc!” Anya squealed, reaching her tiny arms toward him as Jill scooped her up and carried her closer.
John crouched slightly to meet Anya’s level, and the little girl clapped her hands in delight. “DocDoc!” she repeated, her enthusiasm infectious.
“Careful, little one, you’ll crush the flowers,” Jill said gently, though her amusement was evident.
Once inside, Jill set Anya down with the new toys John had brought, watching as her daughter’s curiosity immediately took over. The sight of Anya happily exploring her gifts brought a fleeting sense of normalcy.
“Make yourself at home,” Jill said, gesturing toward the sitting area. “Dinner’s about an hour away. I thought we could catch up a bit beforehand. Sounds like things have been… intense, to put it mildly. Between food crises, the Black Sails stirring up trouble, and the Wilde rearing their heads, I imagine that’s why you’re back.”
She poured him a glass of water and set it on the table, her expression softening as she sat across from him. “I’m glad you’re here, John. It’s been a lot to manage. The staff is doing their best, but morale’s been shaky, especially with the Academy’s younger students hearing rumors. I’ve been doing what I can to keep this place as stable as possible—for everyone, but especially for Anya. This is the one place I can control, and I’m not letting her lose her haven.”
Her voice lowered slightly as she glanced toward Anya, now engrossed in a toy. “But enough about the Academy for now. Dinner will give us a chance to unwind a little. And afterward…” She hesitated, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Afterward, I expect to hear all about your engagement. Isabella’s a dear friend—I was thrilled when I heard the news. I want all the details, and no excuses.”
She met his eyes with a mixture of warmth and curiosity, leaning back in her chair. “So, how are you holding up, John? And what’s your take on where we go from here?”
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He looked at her as she walked toward the kitchen to get the water. She was intelligent and attractive but most importantly, she was his good friend and a colleague. His focus turned to Anya who was enjoying his gifts. He smiled brightly and just watched.
"Jill, you are doing a great job raising her with everything you have to deal with," he stated as he continued watching her. "She is so beautiful."
He then turned his attention back to Jill. "Kind of like her mother. Do enjoy the flowers."
He sipped his water as he listened to her concerns. His face sunk a bit between what she said and the many reports he had read.
"Recent events, teaching some dentistry and I have several surgeries scheduled have brought me here." He looked back at Anya. "She has a home here and I do not want something to happen to it." He turned back to Jill. "I already lost a daughter. That is pain I never want you to experience."
He again sipped his water. "I figure just being here will be a morale booster. Being in the medical wards, teaching wherever and playing at the piano bars have always been a hit. I can also give you some relief from the diplomacy and let you have a break."
"Jill, if you want the truth and I know that you do, I am tired. I have been running goods to keep funding up. I think this will actually be a break. Isabella you now know about. I have kept our relationship quiet as I did not want people thinking that I would show her privilege in the Enterprise. She earned her title before we got involved so I do not feel that I have to defend anything."
He looked into Jill's eyes. "Jill, I love her. I did not think I could love again after losing Midori so long ago. I was taught otherwise. Now we just have to figure out our wedding plans."
"Where from here," he thought aloud. "I might have a few ideas I would like to run by you."
Jill leaned back in her chair, her expression softening as she listened to John’s words. She didn’t miss the emotion behind them, nor the subtle weariness in his tone. He had been through so much—more than most could bear—and yet he still stood strong, a pillar for Med Force Enterprises and those who relied on its stability.
She smiled warmly. “John, I’m truly happy for you and Isabella. She’s a wonderful person, and I always thought there was something special about the way she carried herself—so calm, so focused, but with that spark of compassion. If anyone deserves a fresh start and happiness, it’s you. And don’t worry about people questioning her achievements. Those who know her, know her worth.”
Her voice softened as she glanced toward Anya, who was busy trying to make the teddy bear “dance.” “And thank you, for what you said about Anya and me. I’ve been doing my best to keep things steady for her, but lately…” Jill sighed, her face clouding with concern. “The situation in Theta has been deteriorating.”
She straightened, her tone more serious now. “We’ve had to start considering weapons platforms for our own protection. I never thought I’d be in a position where that seemed necessary, but piracy has been on the rise. Just the other day, Ben, our transport coordinator, was taxed by pirates right in front of Freeport 9 while delivering food. They didn’t care who he was or why he was there.”
Jill paused, letting the gravity of her words sink in. “The hydroponics bay has ramped up production to keep Pygar fed, but there’s something strange happening. Phoenix Group isn’t collecting the shipments from the Academy. At the same time, they’re complaining about shortages. What’s worse, I’ve been receiving messages from Pygar inhabitants saying food isn’t arriving. It’s as if the shipments are vanishing into thin air.”
She leaned forward, her brows knitting in frustration. “I even spoke with Magister Yuri Orlov from NCC about it. He’s been trying to piece together what’s going on, but so far, nothing adds up. It’s clear that something—or someone—is interfering, and it’s putting everyone on edge. The tension in Theta is… palpable. You can feel it walking through the halls, in the way people talk, or don’t talk, about the future.”
Jill ran a hand through her hair, her voice softening as she glanced toward Anya again. “I can handle a lot, John, but this is starting to feel bigger than all of us. If we can’t figure out what’s going on—and soon—it’s going to tear this region apart.”
She looked back at him, her dark eyes filled with a mix of determination and unease. “I know you’re here to help, and that means everything to me. But I need your advice, John. How do we keep Med Force strong in the face of this chaos? How do we make sure the Academy—and Anya—stay safe?”
Her voice lingered on the last word, her emotions showing for just a moment before she straightened again, ready to face whatever came next.
The sound of a soft chime echoed through the room, breaking the serious tone of their conversation. Jill blinked, momentarily startled, before a small smile crossed her lips.
“That’s the pot roast,” she said, rising from her chair. “Looks like dinner is ready. Do you mind helping me get the rest of the things from the kitchen to the table?”
John nodded, setting his glass down and standing. “Of course. Lead the way.”
Jill headed toward the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder as she walked. “Plates and utensils are on the counter. Could you also get Anya’s chair ready at the table? She has a little spot just for her.”
John chuckled softly. “Got it. I’m on Anya duty.”
As Jill slipped on oven mitts and carefully opened the oven door, the rich, savory aroma of her grandmother’s pot roast filled the air. She inhaled deeply, letting the familiar smell soothe her nerves. It wasn’t often she had the chance to cook like this, but tonight felt special—important, even.
Meanwhile, John moved with purpose, gathering plates and cutlery and setting them on the table. He spotted Anya’s little booster seat tucked against the wall and brought it over, securing it in place with practiced ease.
“Dinner’s ready, Anya,” he said warmly as he crouched down to her level. “We’re all going to eat together. Are you ready for some yummy food?”
Anya looked up from her toys, her dark eyes lighting up. “Eat!” she said excitedly, clapping her tiny hands.
Jill, balancing the heavy roasting pan carefully as she walked back into the room, couldn’t help but glance at the scene. John was adjusting the chair for Anya, his large hands moving gently as he made sure everything was just right. Anya, still clapping and giggling, was already reaching for him.
For a moment, Jill paused. The sight of John, so naturally stepping into this space with them, made something inside her ease. The tension from their earlier conversation—the weight of the decisions and worries she carried—seemed to fade, if only for a little while.
“Dinner first,” she murmured to herself, smiling faintly as she placed the pot roast on the table.
John straightened up and turned to her with a satisfied nod. “Anya’s ready. Table’s set. And that smells amazing.”
“It better be,” Jill said, her tone light as she removed her oven mitts and set them aside. “This recipe is generations old. My grandmother would haunt me if I messed it up.”
John chuckled. “Well, I think it’s safe to say her legacy is intact.”
Jill looked at the table, now perfectly set with steaming dishes, cutlery, and the little booster seat in place. Anya was already reaching out for John, babbling happily as he scooped her up and brought her to her seat.
“Let’s eat, little one,” he said gently as he secured Anya in her chair. “You’re going to love this.”
Jill sat down, watching as John made sure Anya was comfortable before sitting across from her. For the first time in days, she felt like everything might just be okay—at least for tonight.
With a deep breath, she smiled. “Thank you, John. For everything. Let’s enjoy this meal before the galaxy decides to throw something else at us.”
He raised his glass of water with a knowing grin. “To surviving another day.”
“To surviving,” Jill echoed, clinking her glass against his as Anya babbled happily between them. For this moment, the storm outside could wait.
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It had been a long time since he smelled a household full of such wonderful smell of dinner. He stood for a moment with his eyes closed taking it in deeply through his nose. A light smile crossed his face. "The last time I smelled a dinner like this was at my Mother's. Good old Southern cooking. I do miss it."
Once back to reality, he helped Jill get ready for dinner. Through the run around, he didn't have much chance to address concerns or answer questions. No worries as there would be time for that......plenty of time.
He was sort of playing with Anya as he carried her from floor to high chair. She was smiling and laughing while her hands clapped onto his face. He kissed her on the forehead at least twice and was making faces at her before he set her in her chair. Once there, he put a bib on her. "Let us see what kind of eater you are," he said to her.
Before he took a bit, he offered a blessing. It was evident that beneath the robes and beneath the guns was a good, Christian man. He thanked the heavens for the night and the safety the currently enjoyed and for each other and finished it with, "to surviving another day."
As they served dinner, he tried being re-assuring. "Believe me, I understand what it is like out there in Theta. I have been out here in some way, shape or form for the last decade plus and it has always been a powder keg. Then as with now, I try to remain confident. I worry little about the Corsairs or even the Outcasts. It is the Unknowns we keep seeing that worry me. I think installing the turrets was a good move. I have had escort pilots patrolling as well and the combination seems to be working."
The food served, he took a bite. The roast was perfect and it melted in his mouth. He just enjoyed the flavor of it with his eyes closed for a moment before swallowing it as he opened his eyes and smiled, "I do think your grandmother's legacy is safe and she would approve."
He then turned to Anya and watched her eat. Like any child, she wore as much as she consumed but she was hungry. He had memories of his kids when they were little doing the same. They would converse as they ate.
"I know that it is scary out there and I know how tense relations have gotten with Phoenix, the Corsairs, NCC and us so I decided it was a good time to be back for awhile."
He took another bit and nodded. "This is very good," he complimented. He then looked back at Anya and then to Jill. These were two people that he cared deeply about.
He himself was tired of running. The memories of Gran Canaria still plagued him and Liberty's attempts to force him off of Erie only strengthened his resolve. He wanted to sound compassionate yet firm and positive. For the moment, he enjoyed dinner with his good friend and niece.
Dinner had been everything Jill had hoped for—warm, comforting, and filled with moments of laughter. Even with the tension surrounding Theta, for a short while, the worries had faded into the background. Anya had been in high spirits throughout the meal, alternating between happily stuffing small bites of roast into her mouth and smearing them on her high chair tray.
It was only halfway through the meal that Jill noticed the unopened bottle of wine sitting on the counter.
“Oh, John,” she said with a small chuckle. “I completely forgot you brought this.” She stood up and retrieved it, turning it over in her hands. “A Gallic red? You do have good taste.”
“I try,” Doc replied with a smirk, watching as she opened the bottle and poured them both a glass.
“You know, I did remember you prefer Scotch, but I figured a good wine wouldn’t go amiss,” Jill said, sliding him a glass.
Doc picked it up, swirled the deep red liquid, and took a sip. “I’ll give it to you—it is very good.”
Dinner carried on, the conversation ebbing and flowing between lighthearted remarks and more serious matters. The food was finished, plates were cleared, and a sleepy Anya was tucked into bed not long after.
Jill leaned against the doorway as Doc carefully pulled the blanket up around her small frame. Anya mumbled something under her breath, barely coherent in her drowsiness, but as Doc smoothed her hair back, she blinked up at him and murmured, “DocDoc…”
A soft smile crossed his face. “Sleep well, little one.”
He stepped away, and Jill switched off the light, leaving the door slightly ajar before they both made their way back to the living area.
The atmosphere was different now—quieter, heavier. Jill grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled her glass as Doc moved toward the sideboard and poured himself a Scotch. They settled into their usual spots—Jill curled up on the couch, Doc in the chair across from her.
For a few moments, they sat in silence, the hum of the station a familiar background noise.
Jill was the first to break it. “Where do you think this all leads, John?”
Doc exhaled, setting his glass down on the table. “Theta has always been volatile, but this feels different.”
Jill nodded. “I thought maybe I was just imagining things, but it’s worse than before. The increase in piracy, Phoenix refusing to collect food while claiming shortages—something isn’t right. And then there’s Pygar itself.” She took a slow sip of her wine. “Yuri from NCC informed me he’s been getting messages from people on Pygar saying that the food isn’t even arriving. So if Phoenix isn’t picking up from us, and Pygar isn’t getting supplies… where is it going?”
Doc’s expression darkened. “That’s the real question, isn’t it?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The Black Sails being active again doesn’t help. And the Corsair treaty—well, we knew not everyone would like it. But I can’t ignore the feeling that something else is brewing.”
Jill sighed, rubbing her temple. “That’s why the weapons platforms were necessary. I didn’t want it to come to that, but what choice did we have? I mean, Ben being taxed right in front of Freeport 9 while delivering food. Right in front of the station, John. No one did a damn thing.”
Doc took a slow sip of his Scotch, his gaze unreadable. “It’s bold,” he murmured. “Too bold.”
Jill let out a bitter laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
Silence stretched between them again, both lost in their thoughts. Eventually, Jill set her glass down and leaned back into the couch. “I don’t know where this leads, John, but I don’t like the direction we’re heading.”
Doc met her gaze, his expression steady. “Neither do I.”
For a moment, there was nothing but the low hum of the station around them.
Then Doc picked up his glass and took another sip, his voice quieter but firm. “But one way or another, we’ll be ready.”
"We will be." Jill said while looking at the wine glass in her hands. Then, as she remembered, she looked up and asked "So John, tell me about the ideas you want to run by me."
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Doc was always one who viewed the glass as half full but admittedly, it was hard to do with things in Theta as they were. He really couldn't hide it either, not from someone like Jill. She was too smart and knew him too well.
"It is too bad, Jill," he began. "Phoenix is a good group of people but lately I cannot figure them out. I think our differences are philosophical. I just feel that they need to see the will of the people of Pygar and less about control of it. Not long ago, no one cared about that cavernous ball of dirt. Now it has become an issue."
He paused and paced a little and sighed. "That is a good question, Jill, where IS that food going. I mean, Synth Paste is gross but it is food nonetheless for those who have little."
The Sails. They were another issues entirely. "The Black Sails. I have yet to speak to one of them but from what I hear through the grapevine, they are more interested in Bretonia. I would reach out to the Sails but under what pretext would I contact them? If the rumor mill is right, they will want monthly tribute just for us to exist here. Until I have more reason, I may leave them alone for now. As it is, I am more worried about these unknowns in the area than I am them so the platforms were a good idea. I have also ordered one of our escort pilots, Captain Lucian Pickett, to fly more security patrols in the area. His reports indicate numerous engagements with them."
He paused again and sipped his Scotch. The idea he had were good but scattered. Jill was more organized than he was so perhaps she was the best person to run this by. "I have been thinking, thinking about how far we have come as an Enterprise. While we are well known, we do not really have a product out there that is, well, us if you know what I am saying. That thing that everyone just has to have. We have been researching natural medicines and such but we still by a lot of goods from Cryer."
He stopped for a moment in pause and turned to her. "Remind me to forward my transcripts to you about my meetings with Cryer. I have been trying to re-kindle things with them."
He then returned to his ideas. His thoughts would be long ramblings.
"I do not think I need to explain to you how rough the life of a Zoner or anyone living in the Omicrons, Omegas or even the Taus can be. I remember hiking on Gran Canaria when it was a beautiful place and it was still rough. Get hurt out there without proper medical equipment and you may die where you are. I want to minimize that."
His face lit up a bit and he bounced his pointer finger back and forth in a positive way. "Imagine, a specialized survival kit that had more than your basic first aid kit, more than basic food rations or just water. No, it has to have more. Maybe a survival shelter, a basic tissue scanner, a distress beacon and some other survival tools."
He turned back to her with a big smile. "Imagine it! Folks like miners, freelancers and people in the relief market would make it a need....and it would be our creation."
His excitement was obvious. He had the smile of a teenager thinking that he was about to save mankind. In his own mind, he might be right as it would be a beginning.