Ensign Corwin Adler stepped through the door to the small Sickbay aboard the USS Pulsar, expecting to be accosted by a barrage of snide commentary from the holographic resident of the compartment. The silence that greeted him instead was rather jarring. Thanks in part to the small design, Ens. Adler could see practically the entire sickbay with only a commitment to turning 180 degrees, and that including peering into the window that separated the Chief Medical Officer’s small office from the sickbay proper.

“Computer, is the medical hologram somewhere else right now?” Corwin asked, his question based on his experience that every other hologram aboard was already activated.

“That program is not currently online,” the computer droned.

“Huh…” Corwin muttered, “I wonder why… Oh well. Computer, please activate the medical hologram.”

A chirp of acknowledgement was followed by the materialization of yet another in a series of identical holograms.

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” the holographic man said with disinterest riddling his tone.

“I wanted to talk to you about some things… I’m… having a hard time coping with…” the young man began before being briskly told off.

“I’m a doctor, not a therapist,” the hologram relayed with a deep frown, “Unless your lack of coping skills are linked to an ulcer, I can’t help you.”

“Oh…” Corwin said, looking downward slightly, “The ECH told me we had a counselor… maybe he misspoke?”

“Ah… you’re looking for him,” the EMH grumbled, “Right department, wrong hologram. Computer, activate the Emergency Counseling Hologram, and deactivate the EMH.”

A hum filled the room as an identical looking hologram materialize, a congenial grin plastered on his face in direct contrast to the dour sneer that was on the EMH’s.

“Please state the nature of your existential crisis,” the newly formed hologram inquired in a slightly creepy upbeat voice.

The EMH’s frown deepened when he found himself still standing in the room rather than being taken offline like he’d requested, “Computer… I said ‘deactivate the EMH’, why am I still here?”

“Unable to comply,” came the automated voice, “Crew compliment currently lacks an assigned medical officer. Deactivation of the EMH program deemed unsafe and therefore aborted.”

“Wonderful,” the EMH threw his hands in the air in exasperation, “I’ll be in my office if you actually need medical attention.”

“Sorry…” Ensign Adler offered sheepishly to the back of the retreating hologram.

“Don’t let him bother you, Ensign,” the counseling hologram said, giving the young man’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “He was programmed to be competent, not compassionate. Lucky, I happen to be both. Now, shall we step into my office and talk about what brought you here to see me?”

“Please,” Corwin nodded, following behind the hologram as he led him to the back of the sickbay to a small door. Behind it sat a small but very inviting space, tastefully decorated to give visitors an immediate sense of calm. The ECH2 entered the room and took a seat on the soft looking chair sitting adjacent to a couch that looked equally, if not even more comfortable.

“Have a seat, Mister Adler,” the hologram urged him, “Tell me about what’s bothering you.”

Corwin gingerly eased himself onto the couch, acting as if he might break it if he weren’t extremely careful. He glanced around the space, noting the vegetation that sat in various spots around the place to add a bit of depth to the otherwise small compartment.

“Well… I just graduated from the Academy yesterday,” the Ensign finally said softly.

“Why, congratulations! That certainly is an achievement worth remembering. Does your visit have something to do with that?” the hologram inquired with a smile.

“No… well… somewhat…” Adler struggled with the words for a moment, “You see, I got my orders earlier today to come to the Pulsar, and when I got here… it was just me. I didn’t think much of it at first, since the nice lady who gave me my orders said that this was a new ship and that the manifest hadn’t been filled in yet. I just thought that I was just the first name picked since I was ready for a transfer and the ship was in orbit.”

“And what changed your mind about that?” the ECH2 asked, shifting slightly to lean just a tad closer.

Adler wrung his hands a few times as he tried to squeeze out an answer, “Well, it wasn’t anything right away. I beamed aboard and the transporter room was empty, but that wasn’t that weird. I wasn’t expecting a welcome party or anything. But the empty corridors… maybe I should have paid more attention to the lack of people walking around the ship at the time, but with her being so new, it just didn’t seem that weird, you know?”

The hologram leaned forward slightly, his eyebrow raised in quiet interest as he waited for the Ensign to continue.

“Then there was the mess attendant,” Corwin sighed, “I really thought he was just a nice man working there who’d just gotten to the ship a little before me. Sure, he was a little strange… and he never did introduce himself… but we had a nice chat and I really thought he was just waiting for more crew to come eat later. I even went along with him when he suggested I go to the bridge instead of engineering to report aboard… he made it sound like he knew something that I didn’t so I just… went with the flow…”

“That’s interesting that you put it like that, Ensign. You just ‘went with the flow’. Do you find yourself doing that frequently?” the ECH2 inquired.

“Huh?” Adler blinked at the sudden question before looking back down at his hands, “I guess I do, yeah. I think I always just… did whatever my sisters and brother wanted to do. It was just… easier that way. I could enjoy spending time with my siblings without having to worry about any of the details. That was always Rhea’s expertise, she was the one that got us all together and had all the grand plans. I just had to figure out how to make things work when things started to fall apart.”

“Is that why you studied engineering?”

“No… I don’t think so. I always liked taking things apart, even when they were working just fine. My father used to say that if I didn’t do something in the tech field when I got older, it would be a massive waste of all my talent. Now he just says I need talk to people more instead of bury my head in the Jefferies tubes. Maybe if I’d have listened, I wouldn’t be having such a hard time now…” the Ensign explained.

“I’m glad you mentioned that,” the ECH2 leaned over onto one elbow, “Tell me about this ‘hard time’ you’re having right now. What about your current dilemma do you think could be fixed if you were to be more gregarious?”

“Right… so… I told you I got sent to the bridge to report for duty, right? Well, the Command Hologram told me that I was the only person… organic person I should say, who was slated to come aboard. He said that I was the Acting Captain until Starfleet sent someone else. And… well… I just couldn’t believe that. I’d only been an Ensign for less than twelve hours… how could I be the Captain of a whole starship? And to make things worse, the starbase confirmed that I was the only one scheduled to report aboard for the time being. Plus, they handed us a mission to do while we wait for whoever else might be in transit to make it here from around the rest of the Federation! Sure, it’s just a training mission, but still! I’m not supposed to be in command, I’m supposed to be down in the engine room, replacing defective parts and running diagnostics and… and…” Corwin’s voice grew more frantic as he spoke.

“Take a deep breath, Ensign,” the hologram urged him in a calm voice, “I think I see what’s going on now.”

“You do?” Adler squeaked out.

“I do,” the ECH2 nodded firmly, “You believe that you are here as the subject of some… mistake, yes?” Corwin bobbed his head up and down. “And you are struggling with how you can somehow escape this grave error that has stretched what you believe to be your limits far beyond what could be considered practical. Am I on the right course so far?” Again the Ensign’s head moved in the affirmative.

The hologram settled back into his chair and opened his arms as if to mimic some grand reveal, “Then the solution is rather simple, my dear Ensign. You are simply tackling this problem from the wrong angle.”

“I am?” the young man asked skeptically.

“Indeed you are,” the hologram said firmly, “You have been asking yourself this whole time why someone made such a mistake. Your entire thought process revolves around the premise that it is some grievous error on the part of someone else, and that they will come storming through the door at any moment to issue a correction and thereby solving all of your problems in an instant. You will be free from the burdens of command, and you can go back to burying your head in the tubes, as you so eloquently put it.”

“But think for a moment, Mister Adler…” the ECH2’s tone softened, “Why would you be given orders if you weren’t exactly the man for the job in the first place? You said it yourself, did you not? The mission is a training run. Well, who here needs training? Certainly not us holograms. We’re already masters of our respective crafts. Here to help you with the things you can’t do so that you’re free to do the things that only you can do… namely command this ship.”

“But what if I screw it all up?” Corwin countered in frustration.

The hologram offered him a banal shrug, “Then you learn from it and grow as both an officer and a person. Isn’t that what your first assignment is all about?”

Adler let out a small sigh, “I just wish my first assignment was a little more… normal…”

“Being comfortable rarely ever allows you to grow, Ensign, do try to remember that. Perhaps the adversity you experience today will pave the way for your eventual success as a Starfleet officer. But for it to do that, you must face it with the willingness to surmount it, not despite the difficulty but because of it.”

“You’re probably right,” Corwin nodded weakly.

“Of course I am,” the ECH2 smirked, “Unlike some other holograms, I was programmed to be.”

Ens. Adler offered the hologram a warm chuckle at what he’d interpreted as a joke. He was going to let the gesture linger for a moment when the whole room seemed to buck wildly, as if the inertial dampeners on the ship had suddenly gone offline. Corwin scrambled to cling to the couch to avoid being thrown the the floor. Almost as quickly as it happened, the odd movements ceased.

“That was strange,” the ECH2 muttered with a raised eyebrow.

Corwin slapped his commbadge, “Ensign Adler to the bridge, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“Please report to the bridge, Captain,” the voice of the ECH called out over the intercom, “We have a situation…”

“On my way,” Adler responded before looking back to the hologram in the room, “I’m sorry to cut things short, but…”

“Go, attend to the matter at hand. I’ll be here when everything calms down. It will give us more to talk about, I’m sure,” the ECH2 urged him with a smile.