Born and raised on the Earth-like world of Triteia 1, the Federation had their claws deep into Richard Farrow from the time he was a young boy.

Richard's parents Arthur and Martha Farrow were simple farmers, with Arthur himself having served time in the Federation forces as a pilot before settling down on Triteia. Richard's first clear memory is of pulling a crate to the window so he could watch as the Federation fleet dropped into orbit for a scheduled resupply. Seeing those soldiers stand tall next to their ships cemented in his mind that he wanted to be a Federation soldier when he grew up.

The hammer of reality was slow to fall. Even through the rigors of basic training and countless hours of classroom instruction, Richard's fondness for the Federation was strong. The smiles on his parent's faces mirrored his own, and a well of pride overflowed within him. But times had changed since Richard's father was a soldier. War had changed. No longer were these small territorial disputes full of warning shots and buzzing other ships.

Richard's first mission saw him dropped from the back of a ship onto an Imperial military complex. Out of 180 shock troops dropped that day, only 40 returned. The mission was an absolute bloodbath. An exhausted Richard slumped into his cot in a room a fifth full as it should be and was granted 3 days rest before he had to do it all over again.

There were highs and lows in his days of service. Rescuing Imperial slaves and freeing captured settlements would ignite a fire in his heart and bring a smile to his face, but picking through the slaughter of a Imperial bombing searching for information among the bodies would douse that fire and leave him chilled.

It was in the midst of one such mission where Richard would get his nickname, one that stuck so hard it's all he goes by today. As some Federation troops around him put out fires from the bombs and others kicked through debris and rubble, Richard entered a small hut at the rear of the complex. Inside he encountered a man laying on the floor, hands clutching his stomach as he bled onto the metal floor. As Richard stepped forward, a pair of hands slammed into him and a shrill voice screamed to leave the man alone. Richard leapt back while holding up his hands, showing the med kit he had pulled from his pack and offered his help. The woman who had pushed him kneeled next to the man on the floor, her brother, and clasped his hand. "It's alright Wren, doc's got me now." Oliver Stirling had his abdomen pierced with a shard of metal from the explosions, but basic treatment from Richard was enough to sustain him until Federation medical staff could arrive. The twins Oliver and Wren Stirling were initially set to be treated and released, but when Richard offered them the chance to join the Federation and take the fight to the Imperials who had destroyed their home, they accepted.

Richard, now and forever known as Doc thanks to Oliver, made many friends over his 8 years of service, but the only two he is still in contact with are Oliver and Wren. Arthur and Martha are both alive and well back on Triteia, and Doc forwards his monthly Federation stipend to them so they can retire early. Oliver and Wren moved closer to the SOL system and live next door to each other.