Corwin Adler looked at himself in the mirror, his new mustard yellow uniform standing out starkly from the sight he had grown used to over the last four years. The once crimson uniform that he’d donned each day as he studied as a student at Starfleet Academy was now a memory, even if only one from yesterday. Another striking difference was the solid silver circle placed upon his his collar, which had been handed to him by one of his instructors during their graduation ceremony. ‘Proof,’ Corwin thought to himself, ‘that I made it through.’

Sitting on the stand just below the mirror rested the totality of his possessions, packed neatly into a shoulder bag. Out of a room of six who had originally shared the dormitory with him, Corwin was now the last to leave. He turned around, taking in the sight that had been his place of refuge during his studies and recalling the memories that had been made there. Everything from laughter to tears, revelry and rivalry, triumphs and trials had taken place in some small way within the confines of this shared room. The young Ensign couldn’t help but smile as he thought about how it was all over, and yet a part of him would never leave.

Pushing sentimental thoughts to the side, Adler grabbed his bag and hoisted it over his shoulder before turning to the door that would lead him onward, beyond the life he’d known as an Academy cadet to his new career as an Engineer somewhere out there in the wider galaxy.

The first few steps outside his dormitory felt heavy, but the longer he walked the lighter things seemed to feel to Corwin as he made his way along the corridors, nodding to old classmate and newly arrived cadets as he did. He traversed the campus, heading to the building that started his journey four long years ago, the spaceport. From there, he would board a shuttle and head to the starbase in orbit that would serve as his jumping off point into the stars. To say the young man was excited to learn where he was being assigned, while accurate, hardly encompassed the torrent of emotions coursing through him.

Ens. Adler approached the detailing desk, where he’d seen countless others line up to receive their first assignments in Starfleet. Because of his late day departure, the line was almost nonexistent and he found himself face to face with a middle aged Lieutenant who would hand down his assignment. The woman smiled at Corwin, his exuberance plain to see as he practically vibrated as he walked up to her station.

“Name?” the Lieutenant asked, her smile never leaving her lips.

“Ensign Corwin Adler,” came the enthusiastic reply.

The woman hummed as she typed in his name and had the computer run a search for his assignment. Corwin noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor when the system didn’t immediately produce his orders. That was enough for the young man to suddenly blurt out, “Is something wrong?”

“I wouldn’t say wrong…” the Lieutenant replied hesitantly, “Just unusual. I usually get the transmission within a second or two, but…” Just as she was about to finish her thought, the system began scrolling text, outlining the young Ensign’s assignment as it always did. “Never mind, there must have been a delay somewhere in the system, I’ve got your assignment now.”

“Oh good,” Ens. Adler said with a relieved sigh, “I was a little worried there for a second.”

The woman chuckled at the remark, “I know it can be nerve-wracking, but your first assignment in the fleet is just one big learning experience. Don’t feel like you have to step aboard your first ship or station knowing everything there is to know. Everyone you serve with has been in your shoes, and they’ll help you find your place. Be willing to listen to their advice, learn at your own pace, and you’ll be a veteran in no time helping a new Ensign do the same in no time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Corwin responded with a grin. As the conversation lulled, the woman produced a small PaDD and handed it off to the young man. He took it from her and began to read the details as he scrolled through some of the preamble and jargon that accompanied his transfer orders.

“The USS Pulsar,” he read aloud, “I’ve never heard of that one.”

“Neither have I… give me a second,” the woman said thoughtfully before running a search on the ship name. A few moments of searching produced the details of the ship in question. “It’s a Protostar-class vessel… a small scout ship. It’s so new that it doesn’t even have a manifest attached to it… huh… I’ve never seen that before. Looks like you get to be part of her maiden voyage crew! I’m actually kind of jealous, I’ve not been assigned to a newly christened vessel before.”

“Really?” Corwin asked, his nervousness melting into renewed excitement, “That sounds really historic!”

“You haven’t even reported aboard and you’re already making history,” the woman couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

“Where is it docked? Will I need to secure transport?” Adler asked, his thoughts turning toward the more practical reality of having to get to the ship before he could truly lose himself to his excitement.

“She’s actually in orbit,” the Lieutenant explained, “You can actually beam aboard the ship rather than take a shuttle. In fact, it’s actually recommended according to the travel addendum on your orders. If you head to your left and follow the blue striping, you’ll reach the departure transporter pad in just a few minutes.”

“That’s pretty convenient,” Corwin chirped happily, “Thank you for all your help, Lieutenant!”

“You’re welcome, Ensign. Good luck!”

Corwin hurried off toward the blue striping, taking a moment to wave enthusiastically to the woman before making his way along the route indicated by the floor markings. As he neared the transporter pad, he could already see the shimmer of matter transfers as other personnel, students and otherwise, came and went. The process was almost ruthless in its efficiency, Corwin barely got our the name of the ship he was intended to embark on before being ushered toward one of the platforms. He hardly had time to process that he was leaving the surface when the blue-white wash of energy particles obscured his view of the spaceport and soon replacing it with the interior of the Pulsar’s transporter room.

As the hum of the transporter died down, Corwin took a second to look around, his mouth standing slightly agape at the size of the room and how complex everything looked. He picked out several systems siting adjacent to one another that seemed redundant, making him smirk at how resilient that must have made the system in question. It took him a full minute of standing on the platform to realize no one was telling him to step off it, or welcoming him aboard.

“Weird…” he muttered after he made the realization that he was currently alone. It wasn’t especially strange that he hadn’t been personally welcomed by some high-ranking officer given that he was just an Ensign, and a brand new one at that. But he’d at least expected whoever he was to be mentored by to make an appearance, though perhaps even that was asking too much. With a shrug and a renewed smile, Corwin stepped down off the platform and onto the ship proper. Leaving the transporter room, Corwin took notice of how sleek the ship looked on the inside. He’d been on a few vessels during his time at the Academy, but they’d all still had something of a familiar, lived in feeling that he didn’t get at all from what he was seeing around him.

Moving through the corridors unobstructed made the lack of people even more apparent. Even in the most sparsely populated parts of the Academy grounds, Ens. Adler could remember passing by at least one or two people as he went about his walks. The lack of any interaction at any point made things feel a bit strange, but Corwin didn’t consider it so odd that he felt any real twinge of concern right that second. The sudden grumble of his stomach pulled just enough focus away from his odd situation for him to give the strange lack of personnel more deliberate thought.

Corwin pulled up a schematic of the ship on the PaDD he still had clutched in his hand, finding that he wasn’t actually all that far from the single mess facility aboard the ship. And because there was only one, Corwin was convinced that at least one person would be occupying the space even at such an odd time of the duty day. With a bit more spring in his step, the young Ensign traversed the distance required to bring him face to face with the mess hall doors.

Upon entering the space, Corwin was instantly relieved to see a man, clad in a black outfit that seemed casual but functional for a mess attendant, milling about the compartment, observing the vacant tables as if to see how well they measured up to his standards. The somewhat cautious smile he’d been wearing bloomed into pure elation at finding someone else after having wandered the corridors without encountering any of his fellow crew.

“Hello, sir,” Corwin called out with an upbeat tone.

The man he’d called out to turned around, his slightly startled expression shifting instantly to a genial and welcoming smile that seemed perfectly practiced and purposefully composed to put the viewer at their easy almost immediately. His movements were practiced, allowing him to almost glide through the space to stand in front of Ensign Adler before he could really even register that he was being approached.

“Greetings, Ensign. What is the nature of your gastrointestinal deficiency?” the balding man asked, the genial and welcoming smile not diminishing in the slightest.

“Huh? Oh! Right… I came to grab a late lunch, if that’s alright,” Corwin was momentarily thrown off by the man’s strange words, but quickly shook it off and made his request.

“Absolutely, young man! Please, do sit down,” the black clad man offered him a chair with the practiced ease of someone who seemed born to care for others, “What can I get you?”

“Oh… um…” Corwin hesitated for a moment as he considered his options, “How about a salad… maybe with some shredded meat on it?”

“A solid choice for a late lunch. I’ll bring that right over,” the man remarked before moving to the replicator to produce the requested meal. “Would you like a specific beverage, or will water be adequate?”

“Ah… right, I didn’t think of that. Water is fine… maybe with some ice?” Adler responded in a bit of a fluster.

“Ah, yes. The culinary equivalent of a life-support system on low power mode. Coming right up,” the man remarked, adding it to the order before commanding the device to materialize the meal. The buzz and whirl of matter being constructed from the machine filled the space, only to die down seconds later to be replaced with the scent of roasted meat and hints of herbs. The mess attendant lifted the tray and returned to the table he had deposited Corwin behind, placing the meal before him with practiced grace.

“Please enjoy,” the man said with a proud smirk, as if he had personally created the dish he’d offered himself.

“Thank you,” Adler said with a happy smile as he picked up the fork and began to sample the meal. Corwin ate his meal in silence, occasionally looking back toward the door idly as he did. After a while, the Ensign turned his attention to the only other occupant of the room and decided to ask a question.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asked in a puzzled tone.

“I would imagine everyone else is busy performing their duties,” the mess attendant remarked casually from behind what could be considered a bar.

“Right…” Adler nodded after setting his water back down post sip, “That makes sense. I am here at kind of an odd time I guess.”

“Hunger doesn’t keep a schedule, Ensign. I’m here whenever you need me,” the man retort somewhat smugly.

Corwin nodded, “That’s nice to know. The lady that ran the mess hall back at the Academy didn’t like when cadets would straggle in outside of meal times. She got pretty grumpy the few times I had to do it because of a class running late or a project taking longer to finish than expected.”

The man chuckled at the Ensign’s brief story, “Well then consider me an upgrade. No grumpiness, no judgments, just good food served when you need it.”

“I’ll do that,” Corwin said with a happy little nod as he continued to tackle the meal before him. Ensign Adler allowed himself to be carried by the wave of friendly warmth he felt sitting at the table, letting the conversation naturally ebb as he completed the salad and finished off his glass of water.

“I see you’ve overcome your hunger with gusto,” the man said as he walked over and picked the tray up, “But I think it’s time you headed to the bridge. Let them know you’re here.”

“The bridge?” Adler asked with a hint of shock, “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous of an Ensign to report straight to the bridge on their first day?”

The mess attendant hummed for a second before smirking, “Perhaps on those bigger ships out there, but I think you’ll be alright. Now off you go, young man. This mess hall won’t clean itself and you’ll just get underfoot sitting there with your jaw hanging open.”

“Oh… yes… sorry! Thank you so much for the meal, and the conversation!” Corwin said, leaning down to grab his bag before hurrying out of the chair, “I’m looking forward to dinner later!”

“You do that, Ensign,” the man waved after the young Engineer as he all but sprinted out of the room in what was likely an attempt to vacate the premises so the man could finish his work.

Now that he was out of the mess hall, Ensign Adler consulted his PaDD for a moment and turned in the direction indicated, heading quickly to the vessel’s bridge. The ship was somewhat unique from other vessels, utilizing mezzanines and stairs in conjunction with turbolifts. Because of the small stature of the ship, consisting of a scant six decks for the crew to live and work on, it seemed the more practical move than simply flooding the ship with tubrolift shafts that would take up more space than they would save if they were the only means of travel.

Reaching the upper most deck, Corwin stepped through the reinforced bulkhead doors to find himself staring out into the stars as if he were on some observation deck rather than a bridge. In his time at the Academy, he’d only ever been on the bridge of a starship sitting in the fleet museum, but even that was nothing compared to doing it on his very first vessel.

The massive transparent aluminum ceiling allowed a nearly unobstructed view of the surround space, with the spaceport hanging above the planet dominating the majority of the forward view. Corwin couldn’t stop the “Wow,” from escaping his lips as he beheld the awesome sight. The Ensign was pulled from his stargazing by sudden motion in his peripheral vision, prompting him to turn toward the source of that movement.

Upon making eye contact with the figure, Corwin’s mouth dropped open. The mess attendant was somehow now standing on the bridge wearing a Starfleet uniform with the signature red that command officers generally wore. The first thought was to wonder how he’d changed and still managed to beat him to the bridge. Then he considered that perhaps the mess attendant and this bridge officer were simply twins. It wasn’t entirely impossible for such a thing to take place. It would be odd, but it didn’t seem so bizarre given the strange things he’d already experienced since stepping aboard. Why not twins too?

“Good, you’re here. I assume you are ready to assume your duties,” the man said, his voice identical in every single way to the man he’d just left in the mess hall, almost scarily so.

“My… duties?” Corwin replied before noticing a detail on the man’s uniform he’d previously overlooked. There were no rank insignia on his collar where there should have been. He stopped just before calling the man ‘sir’, because he wasn’t actually sure where the two of them stood in the hierarchy without it.

“Yes, Ensign, your duties,” the man repeated, “As you are the ranking officer aboard the ship, you’re meant to assume command.”

“Oh, right… assume…” Adler almost allowed himself to be caught up in the flow before it dawned on him, “Wait… I’m the ranking officer?!”

“Correct, Ensign. You hold the highest commission aboard the Pulsar, which means, by default, you are her Captain,” the man explained.

Corwin shook his head firmly, “That’s impossible, I just graduated from the Academy yesterday, I can’t be in command of a whole starship full of people already!”

“As luck would have it, Ensign, you have nothing to worry about in that regard,” the man said with a smirk, “The only person on this ship… is you.”

“But what about the man down in the mess hall?” Adler started grasping at any straw he could, trying to salvage the situation and, perhaps, his sanity.

“I take it you’ve met my counterpart, the Emergency Hospitality Hologram,” the man remarked, ignoring the Ensign’s attempt to produce evidence to the contrary of his previous assertion.

Corwin’s head jerked backward almost as if he’d just been punched, “Hologram? He was a…”

“Holographic projection designed to fill in a vacancy in the crew’s compliment, correct,” the man nodded.

“So that means you’re also…?”

“I am the Emergency Command Hologram,” the man answered, “Though I suppose if you’re grasping for a less formal name, ECH will also suffice.”

Corwin could feel his legs start the buckle as he processed the reality of his situation. He instinctively reached out to his side and caught hold of the chair that he’d stopped next to while he was marveling at the scenery prior to his rather shocking and enlightening conversation with the ECH. With wobbly limbs, Ensign Adler sank down into the chair and let his bag slide off his shoulder, falling with a muted thud against the floor.

“Are you two the only holograms aboard?” the Ensign asked in a trembling voice.

“Certainly not,” the ECH said as he puffed out his chest slightly, “We have a full array of competent professionals aboard. Besides myself and the EHH, we also have an engineer, a physician, and a counselor. Coupled with the Pulsar’s cutting edge automation, you are blessed with a crew who will never tire and will always deliver the highest standard of performance.”

“But no organic crew?” Corwin asked.

“We have you, Captain,” the ECH said bluntly.

“Heh…” Corwin squeaked before dropping his head in his hands in utter disbelief.