Turbulence Aboard Kadesh

[Doc Holliday]

Commander's Ready Room, [MFE]Med.Force.One

"John, I want you to be careful," said Commander James Haddock, commanding officer of the famed Med.Force.One.
"Between all the tentacles out here, the ongoing fighting between Corsair factions, Phoenix and the Order, I don't like this. From what I have heard about these Sails, they sound rather vial."

Doc just smiled. "James, why do you think I put a cloaking device on this ship? In as much as it is a humanitarian ship, out-of-site, out-of-mind seems to fit here so if we cannot be seen then we are as I said, out-of-mind." He gave James and friendly pat on the shoulder before he continued.
"Of all of the groups that you mentioned, James, the Corsair factions are the ones I worry about the least."

"But, John," interrupted James, "The Brotherhood and Deterrence, yes, but not the Sails. We know so little about them and your long history isn't with them."
"No, James, it is not," answered Doc, "but they are Corsairs nonetheless and our reputation throughout the empire is well known."
"Well let's hope so," retorted James. "I don't want to see you a patient here or worse."
"Trust me, James, that will not happen," Doc replied and shook his head, "Not by the Sairs anyway. My concern is more with the Core. Depending on which way the wind blows is whether or not they like us, especially when you consider they are tied to the Liberty government which by the way is more of a problem to me than anyone out here, them and the Bretonian Crown."
James then walked up to his long time colleague and placed his hands on Doc's shoulders. "Just promise me that you will be careful."
Doc simply responded with, "I promise." At that point, the two men stepped out onto the command bridge.

"Commander on the bridge," someone yelled as they stepped through the door.
The first officer turned and motioned to the view screen. "Kadesh Orbital. No one knows that we are here, Sir."
Haddock and Doc made a short walk to a mooring point where an Eagle fighter was parked. Doc would fly this to Kadesh.
"Doc, we will be just far enough to be reachable but out-of-mind. The Eagle also has a cloak so use it."
Saying little else, he left the safety of Med.Force.One and after a short flight docked at Kadesh with only his usual medical bag. As a show of good faith, he left his sidearms back in his quarters. As instructed, he found his way to the bar at Kadesh where he ordered a Scotch.

"Who was coming for him?" he wondered. He thought of what Massimo would be like in person. He figured him to be firm but honorable and reasonable. Phoenix? He knew them well. While overall on good terms, their differences were in his mind, workable. Time would tell.
While he waited, he studied his surroundings as he knew little about the base itself. As he waited, he pulled out a pack of playing cards and began playing some Solitaire. Now it was a waiting game.

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Soban]

Kadesh, Phoenix headquarter, Command room D

---

Jonathan reviewed the latest reports with a furrowed brow. A Phoenix trade convoy had engaged and driven off a Corsair force in the Sigmas—though at considerable cost. It was yet another sign of desperation from the Imperio. The fall of Reincarnation Outpost had clearly shaken them. Perhaps the corsairs now felt the flames of their Elders licking at their backs.

Yet, despite the escalation, the diplomatic channels remained eerily silent. No messages, no rebuttals. Perhaps the time for courtesies had passed. The Nephilims were no longer dormant; they were fully awakened, refitted for war. Perhaps they could remain active a little longer, serve one final purpose before returning to slumber.

His thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful chime on the intercom, followed by the unmistakable drawl of Karen MacDone.

“Hello, sweetie. You’ve got a Very Important Somebody cooling his heels at the bar—Doc Vacation, or whatever he’s calling himself. Don’t keep the good doctor waiting, cupcake; punctuality looks marvelous on you.”

Before he could offer even a word of protest at her tone, the line cut. That was MacDone—she could deliver sarcasm to the King of Bretonia himself and make him feel like he’d been told off by his mother. Sending her in his place would’ve been hilarious, but the diplomatic fallout wouldn’t be worth it.

Convincing the Doctor to revise his stance on the Corsairs would be no easy feat. But with the shifting balance of power in the Omicrons and the mounting losses suffered by those barbarians, perhaps there was still hope of restoring Theta as a true neutral and trading hub.

He straightened his desk, adjusted his plain overalls. Jonathan never had much use for finery—“keep it simple, focus on what matters,” as the old saying went.

Then he stood, crossed the room, and stepped into the lift to head to the bar. Matters changed fast in the 'Crons, and time was one of the few luxuries they couldn't afford to waste.

[Doc Holliday]

He was patient. He was beginning a run of spades on the table while he waited. This wouldn't be the last time he would wait for someone important to meet with. His meetings with Liberty officials over the years began with long waits but yielded good results that was of course, until the invasions of Erie. That was his last diplomatic mission and he didn't like starting a new one on a down note.

Phoenix was a tough group and one he respected. He was their differences as philosophical. Zoners as a people had a long and often steady history with the Corsairs and even the Outcasts. Hopefully he could patch that up. Doc was not only a doctor but he was a diplomat. In his line of work, he had to be. His late friend, Malaclypse, noticed it over a decade earlier. He didn't have a lot of chat with Phoenix over the years so he would have a lot of active listening to do. Hopefully he would gain the same respect.

He finished his spades and started a run of diamonds. He again thought of the problem with Liberty. The more he thought of it, the more annoyed he got as evidenced by his throwing down a card slightly harder than the last. He understood Zoners fighting back but still didn't condone it. His own past and his current Enterprise wouldn't let him draw on someone else. The haunting memory of an ex murdering a Bretonian official in front of him was also a thought.

He hoped they could resolve their differences. They were both Zoners after all and had a lot of common ground to work with. Was his wait time a result of the Phoenix official running late or was it them testing him to see if he would leave? He just waited patiently. Finished with the game, he began shuffling his deck of cards.

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Soban]

Kadesh, The public bar

---

After a brief walk and a graceful waltz with the turbolift, Jonathan arrived near the bar. He had encountered several MFE ships and captains around Freeport 11, but Doc Holliday was something else entirely. Revered by some, met with skepticism by others, he nonetheless remained a prominent figure within the Zoner community.

Jonathan stepped into the bar Karen had mentioned, a public venue situated near the station’s bustling trade docks. Order operatives, Zoner envoys, and even a few Core personnel mingled within, bound by a fragile alliance against the Nomad threat looming in Zeta. Most notably, there wasn’t a single Corsair in sight. Kadesh remained one of the few Zoner installations to fully bar Corsair access until the situation in Theta was resolved. And with every Corsair refusal to engage in even the most basic diplomacy, the momentum behind such policies only grew.

His eyes scanned the room until he spotted the man—seated before a cluttered table of cards, seemingly adrift in thought. Jonathan approached, announcing his presence with a discreet, deliberate cough. He introduced himself in his usual composed and resonant tone.

“Greetings, Mr. Holliday. Welcome aboard Kadesh. I am Jonathan Cayran, current head of the Phoenix. I trust your journey through these troubled regions went without incident. Before we move on to the matter at hand—may I suggest we relocate to a quieter setting?”

Though surrounded by nominal allies, Jonathan knew Zoner diplomacy had no place in a bustling public hall. Anticipating this, he had arranged a private meeting space: a secluded patio nestled within Kadesh’s biodome, flanked by a meadow and an orchard, a serene refuge in stark contrast to the ever-turbulent Omicrons.

[Doc Holliday]

He quickly collected his playing cards, put the rubber band around them, pocketed them and came to his feet. He extended his hand for a hand shake upon his introduction.

"John Holliday," he answered, "founder of Med Force Enterprises." After the handshake, he held his hands in front of him.
"Travel here was largely uneventful aside a distant Nomad ship which was more concerned with some Core operatives."
As they walked, he placed his hands behind him to present an open front and looked about the station as they walked. He knew little about Cayran and even Phoenix themselves were a bit of a mystery nowadays at least, to him they were.

"A fine station you have here, Mr. Cayran," he told him. "I have visited before as I have your Athens base. I do not mind bringing some goods out this way to help out."
The talk on the way was of the small variety. Security was important as it was so often. He wasn't nervous about what was to be discussed. In fact, he was cautiously optimistic. While things were tense in the Omicrons, things were heating up in Liberty and their operatives were no stranger in the region. He hoped they would be able to discuss that as well.

They arrived at the biodome to the secluded patio. He again looked around.
"A very nice, very surreal location," Doc said to Cayran. "I must say that you have done a fine job making this place so peaceful."
He took the seat that was offered and waited. He wasn't sure where to start. He figured to give Cayran the opening statements.

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Soban]

Kadesh, Phoenix private biodome

---

“Yes, quite the marvel, isn’t it? To have something like this this deep in the Omicrons. Our engineers truly outdid themselves.”

Jonathan settled into his seat. It was time to get to the heart of the matter.

With a discreet press of a concealed button beneath the table, a soft hum resonated as a central panel slid open to reveal a compact holographic projector. After a brief biometric verification, he interacted with the interface, and two documents materialized in luminous detail above the table’s surface—one familiar, the other ancient.

“Let’s begin with a bit of history. I’ll keep it brief—though there’s much to unpack. As you know, history has a habit of repeating itself. You likely recognize the first document, your signature is on it. The infamous Theta Treaty. Next to it is a relic from old Earth: an armistice signed by France during what was known then as one of their World War.

Now, take a closer look, the parallels are striking. The occupation of Freeport 9 like France, masked under the guise of co-administration. Imposed diplomacy, enforced reparations, unilateral law and order.
Even with OSI offering them support, the Corsairs have never ceased their imposition of taxation. They claim Zoners are free to roam Theta, yet they tax anything and everything within reach, blatantly disregarding the very notion of a so-called protectorate.

And when Freeport 9 is eventually rebuilt? Mark my words—they’ll impose taxation there too. It’s only a matter of time.

Now, let’s move on to the more troubling section.”

He rose, gesturing to the projected Corsair treaty with a firm hand.

“Point two—brilliant in its brazenness. They don’t even bother to veil their intentions. I quote: Omicron Theta, as a starting point. So I sincerely hope you're prepared for the Omega-48 Treaty, because if they get their way, every Zoner installation—yours included—will be reduced to a so-called ‘protectorate.’

This concept of neutrality that some cling to... will it truly survive that? Will Sirius still see the Zoners as impartial and respectable if we bow to terms that offer one group such an overwhelming advantage? To be clear, you and OSI were never targeted—not because of principle, but because they still need your signatures for legitimacy. But let me tell you this: everyone else was marked. And those who couldn’t be coerced were simply swept aside.”

He returned to his seat, his tone cooling slightly, though a sharp grin began to form.

“Now, back to history. Do you recall what became of France once their opponent began losing ground and needed to consolidate resources? They didn’t just maintain the ‘protectorate’—they annexed the rest.
And if that happens here—do you think our neighbors will sit idly by? Do you truly believe the Core and the Outcasts will allow Freeport 9—once the trading heart of the Omicrons—to remain under Corsair authority?

The Corsairs are losing ground, and fast. Two of their capital ships, The Vis and The Penitence, are crippled. Their prized Delta outpost? Falling into the sun. All because they miscalculated—they went after the so-called ‘easy target’: the Zoners.
As long as they are forced to keep us in check, they’re bleeding strength on every other front.

And if we leave Freeport 9 in their hands their enemies will eventually strike where it hurts most. They’ll go after what the Corsairs claim as theirs: Zoner stations under Corsair ‘protection.’ Including Freeport 9. And when that happens, it won’t be the Corsairs who suffer—it’ll be our people. Zoner civilians caught in the crossfire of a war they never asked for.

And tell me—do you honestly believe the Corsairs will come to the aid of a Zoner installation under siege? Will they risk their fleets to defend anything but their own pride and territory? Or will they let it burn the moment it no longer serves their purpose?
Did they send a fleet when Bretonia set foot on Gran Canaria? Did they lift a finger when Zoners under a protectorate was truly under threat?

We both know the answer.

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle, giving his guest space to breathe—and to think.

I’ve already heard whispers of foreign agents interfering during our attempt to retake the station—sabotage from the shadows. If we don’t resolve this now, more Zoner blood will be spilled. Needless blood.
All this gives us a rare opportunity—a window to stop this madness and pressure them into a real negotiation. One that brings about actual peace, not submission.
But that won’t happen as long as you and OSI continue legitimizing their terms. So—what’s your view on these events? And more importantly... are you ready to help end this mess?”

[vladimir26]

Within the Omicron detachment of the Black Sails, Massimo finds himself bored as fuck. Except a few Order fools blockading Theta, all has been quiet lately. The cousins have been nowhere to be seen after the unfortunate deflagration of Reincarnation, so, he needs to fill up his time. The idea of a visit to Kadesh begins to take shape, to check how the neighboring zoners manage to get along. Before rising from his chair at the command console, he sends an order through the intercom: Have my Titan ready, then starts making his way towards the hangar bay of the Perdition.

T'was quite a ride from Livadia to Kadesh, but unopposed. The Phoenix Zoners patrolling Zeta offered him clear passage to Kadesh, and there he was. In the hangar bay, he was met by a zoner, but before he had the chance to present himself, Massimo addresses him: Signor, I'm dry as fuck, take me to the oasis, I'm in dire need of rejuvenation.

Taking the zoner's lead, they slowly navigate through Kadesh's labyrinth of decks and end up at their destination, the bar. On his way to the bartender, Massimo notices a rather peculiar sight in the form of an obsolete female, adorning a pair of 5 inch reinforced glass periscopes, and a crude contraption in what seems to be curlers, used in the process of beautifying what appears to be a a freshly painted pink wig. He blinks a few times trying to clean his eyes, trying to dispel any illusion, but to no effect. Fuck me, he says, before picking up his pace to the bartender.

Finally at the oasis, he takes a stool facing this intriguing target, further trying to analyze it. The rum arrives, but before he even finishes it, Massimo asks for another one. A flick of his wrist and the glass is empty, but the redundant lady? Still appears the same. He rubs his eyes, yet she's still the same. Massimo even starts to believe that she targeted him. Right as his second rum arrived, the obsolete feline raises from her table, preparing to leave or relocate. Massimo's eyes grow big as a pair of onions, and starts to panic. Swiftly empties his glass, raises from his stool and in the process snatches a bottle of rum from the bar, then grabs his zoner escort by the arm and starts pulling him out: Signor, take me to Jonathan Cayman, and fast! This oasis poses more threats than a nomad lair.

El zoner escort giggles silently and proceeds to guide Massimo to the meeting room. Another 50 decks and 120 corridors and there he is, the safe haven of the meeting room. Massimo sighs relieved, lets go of his escort's arm, then crashes deprived of energy at a nearby table. Puts the rum bottle on the table, lights up a cigar, and only then addresses the gentlemen inside the room: Excuse me signors, I had a close call with a deadly cougar. Barely managed to dodge it as it pounced. Pheeewww, so good to be alive! And he pours himself a glass of rum, then raises it to Jonathan and Doc: To life!

It take Massimo a good 30 seconds to regain his breath, then he leans back on the chair, puts his feet on the table and starts looking on the projector: That's your signature over there, isn't it, signor Holliday? Agreeing on repairing what was destroyed and taken from you by force. Smart. And next to it? The history that shows us this wasn't the first time, and most likely won't be the last. Fingers crossed your Academy won't be next. But if it will, you wouldn't mind, would you?

Massimo then removes his feet from the table and proceeds to sit normally, adopting the serious attitude he's used to conduct business with. Signor Holliday, unless my information is incorrect, the same is happening to your foothold in Liberty. Everybody wants a piece of the Zoners nowadays, and you're more than happy to comply. I shouldn't bother about your choices, but your giveaway of Freeport 9 affects us directly. The once thriving economy around it was reduced to a mere memory, which translates to less supplies and plunder to Crete. They instead got replaced by Core and Outcast vultures, who will never accept a Corsair installation in the system. But if you don't give a shite on our troubles, I trust the current situation is counter productive to you as well, and with your current partners losing ground and influence, well, you get the rest. I trust, alongside signor Jonathan's presentation, to be enough to make an educated choice.

Massimo then realizes the obsolete female might be prowling the corridors of Kadesh, so he decides to make his escape: Now, time I be on my way. This installation poses more dangers than one can think. I have full trust in you fine gents, that one way or another, we shall settle on a course of action, be it fruitful, or catastrophic. Todo lo mejor.

---

[Doc Holliday]

"It is my signature indeed," he responded but before he could direct it at the visiting Corsair, he was gone. So, he continued his chat with Jonathan. "I think you fail to see the big picture of the Omicrons as a whole, in particular, Omicron Theta."

"The Omicrons, like the Taus, are a powder keg," he continued as he paced a bit with his hands behind his back, "the Omicrons even more so. They have two common problem. One, bounty hunters and the other, the Outcasts. Let us discuss the first."
"I tolerate bounty hunters at best," he explained. "They frequent the Freeports and create a lot of friction. The assault of Freeport 9 was the direct result of a Corsair Elder being killed by a hunter on base and Zoner tolerance of their presence. In my opinion, it was but a matter of time. How much more time will it be before something similar happens, say, on Freeport 6 or 10 out in the Taus when a similar situation happens with an Outcast Don?"

He took a sip of his drink. "That leaves us with the Outcasts. I do not have an issue with them for say besides their cardamine but how many times have we had Outcast fleets come to Omicron Theta in the past, mass by Freeport 9 and then raid into Omicron Gamma only to return under pursuit and take refuge on the Freeport? In the last decade plus, I can think of many."

He then went over to Jonathan. "Do I like that Freeport 9 came under siege? No. Do I understand why it was? Totally. This was years in the making. What do the Sairs want? They want an equal stake in management to prevent such measures, not a takeover."
He then pointed in a direction towards Bretonia. "The Crown tried taking Freeport 1 from us in a bloody siege attempt and failed but they did take Gran Canaria from us all. I have received more respect from any Corsair then I ever have a house government."

Doc realized he was getting upset so he took a few steps back. Jonathan wasn't his enemy. He wanted him to be at least an ally. He understood his anger but disagreed with his motives. After a few breaths, he de-escalated himself.
"The Brotherhood and I go way back," he continued in a collected tone. "Elder Miguel Sephardi and I worked hard to forge a peaceful co-existence between the Zoners of Omicron Theta and the Corsairs. The Benitez Clan was part of that and even the old Black Sails. It is not just about the Deterrence , it is about the Corsairs as a whole. As I said, I would rather work with them then the Bretonian Crown or even the Liberty government, both of whom have betrayed us all. Our base in Omicron Theta depends on the working relationship as do the refugees who now forge a living on Pygar."

He then turned the tables a bit. "I know who you work with, Sir. The Core. Do you really know who they are? Those are what I like to call enhanced bounty hunters. They are an extension of the Liberty government, the very government who have been doing some not-so-nice things to Zoners on Erie. The Core have had their guns turned on us in the past. I question you working with them as much as you question me working with The Deterrence."

"As you can see, we have our differences but I think they are more philosophical and workable," he continued. "I see the houses more of a threat than I do any group out here. I know it is a bit out of our scope here but I will say this, I will not lose another home to another house authority and I will work to continue our work in medicine for the benefit of all. Man left Sol to find peace after fighting for over a hundred years in a war they did not remember what they were fighting for and here we are, those same people fighting again over what, turf and ideals."

He sat down. "Let us work this out."

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises