Family Affairs
Posted on 20 Jul 2025 @ 11:18pm by 1st Lieutenant Gavin Ross Dr.
915 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
S04 Episode 02 The Hackers Backdoor (Incidentals)
Location: Holodeck 01, Deck 07
Timeline: Current
[ON]
Gavin adjusted his collar and glanced at the holographic waiter with a playful smile. “I hope the holodeck has made the tiramisu to Starfleet nutritional standards. Can’t let our metabolic efficiency slip!” His mother, Margaret, took a sip of her replicated Chianti, a warm expression on her face as she looked at Gavin. She still saw him as her little boy and felt a pang of nostalgia. “Efficiency aside, Gavin, I thought your latest paper on xenovirology was... decent, but I know you have more potential. Have you thought about getting it peer-reviewed at the Institute?” Her words had just the right mix of challenge and encouragement, adding a spark to their lively family dynamic. At that moment, Gavin’s dad, Alistair Ross, chuckled as he cut into his holographic veal scaloppine. “Decent? That’s being kind, Margaret! The kid has been off gallivanting across the quadrant, playing ship’s doctor, while his citations are lagging behind Eliza’s.” He looked at Gavin, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. “What’s it been, six months since your last publication? Better not be slacking, buddy!” The renowned Starfleet Neurosurgeon’s expression was one of disappointment, but there was also a sense of support behind it.
Gavin. Bristled. Keeping his tone even. “Father, I’ve been managing a starship’s medical bay between multi-missions and military officers. Lives over citations, you know? Besides, my work on a new Thelian Memtox vaccine is under review at Starfleet Medical.”
Eliza Ross’s sister and fellow doctor. The whole family was doctors. She smirked. Twirling her fork. “Oh, Gavin, always the altruist. Meanwhile. I’ve got three papers pending at the Institute and a keynote at the Vulcan Science Academy next month. Try keeping up… She then took a drink from her glass of white.
Ross closed his eyes and took a drink from his wine, and rubbed at his temples. These ‘get-togethers’, no matter how virtual, realistic they claimed, were brutal in every sense.
Margaret nodded approvingly at Eliza. “Your work on neural regeneration is promising, Eliza. The Board’s taken notice.” Turns to Gavin, her voice cool. “But, Gavin, your father’s not entirely wrong. Your field work is commendable, but the family name demands academic output. Starfleet Medical expects more from an elected professor of the board ranks.” He shook her head and wiped her mouth with the white linen napkin. The candlelight at the table lent a shaded twinkle in the dark dining experience in a Rome Restaurant.
Alistair grumbled. He was waving a fork. “Expects more? I didn’t claw my way to Director by patching up ensigns with plasma burns.” His learned Father always lending advice, whether Gavin wanted it or not. He leans forward, eyes narrowing. “Tell me, Gavin. When’s the last time you presented at the Atlanta symposium? Or are you too busy playing hero on that floating tin can?
Gavin clenched his jaw, forcing a smile. “The Tomcat is a Sabre-class fighter, Father, not a tin can. And I presented virtually last year—my holo-lecture on Bajoran fever vectors was well-received. Perhaps you missed it, being busy scolding interns.”
Eliza laughed. A touch too loud… “Oooh point to Gavin! But seriously. Father, ease up. He’s saving lives out there. Not everyone can sit in an ivory tower writing treatises on cellular apoptosis.” She pauses smirking. “Though I do it better than both of you.”
Raising an eyebrow, Margaret stated… “Confidence is a Ross trait Eliza, but humility tempers it. Your work is impressive, but don’t let ambition outpace precision.” His mother turned to Gavin. “And you, Gavin, should prioritize a guest lecture at the Academy. Your students deserve more than recycled subspace transmissions.”
Alistair scoffed. “Students. Bah!” He shook his head taking a drink of his wine. “Half of them can’t tell a hypospray from a tricorder.” Points at Gavin. “You’re wasting your potential out there, son. The Board needs minds like ours, not another sawbones in the stars. His Father grumbled once more. “And this veal’s too chewy. Lousy holodeck!” The character was someone that Gavin missed. His Father was getting well into his 80s.
Ross sighed. He leaned back in his seat and turned his attention to his parents, paying them attention over Eliza. Her smirking was pissing Gavin off.” He sighed and leaned back. “The veal’s fine Father. It’s your mood that’s chewy. Look, I respect the board, the institute, all of it. But my work on the Tomcat matters. I’m not just a name on a paper.” He laughed. They wouldn’t understand. “I’m keeping a crew alive. Can we at least enjoy the tiramisu before you dissect my career again?
Eliza grinned, raising her glass. “Hear, hear! To tiramisu and surviving family dinners.” Eliza leans toward Alistair, teasing. “And maybe, Father, try smiling? It’s Rome, not a funeral.”
Alistair grumbled per usual. However, he showed a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Cheeky lot, both of you. Fine, pass the dessert. But don’t think this gets you out of the next symposium, Gavin.”
Margaret calmly, but with a hint of warmth, stated… “We are proud of you, Gavin, in our way. Just… don’t let the stars distract you from the legacy we’ve built. Now, let’s discuss your next research proposal…”
[OFF]