“Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”

Carl Jung. (1916)

Emily Eaves’ first impression of her new home was one of wonderment.

Approaching from the stern, the USS Lexington was over one kilometer long and the majestic sweep of its lines continued to fill the forward view of the runabout, as it came around on final approach to the large Shuttlebay that nestled at the rear of the great craft’s chevron.

Gripped by an almost overwhelming sense of charged expectation at the prospect of exploring such a storied – leviathan, Emily still couldn’t almost believe that she had drawn service aboard such a prestigious ship-of-the line to be her host for what would be her Midshipman cruise and the penultimate assignment of her Academy education, prior to her graduating and taking on a commission as an Ensign in Starfleet.

~If she graduated~, the ambitious young Midshipman warned herself. Whilst she was undeniably the top – scoring cadet in her class, a fact even grudgingly conceded by Sybok, her closest rival in that valedictorian contest, successfully gaining a post aboard a command even of the standing enjoyed by the USS Lexington was by no means an assurance of advancement.

If anything, expectations would be higher and Emily would have to strive to deliver her very best during this final assessment of her character and skill. Still, she remained reasonably confident of her chances, she was a gifted linguist with a flair for socio – cultural studies and her academy aptitude scores for the more technical aspects of subspace communications networks placed her in the top percentile amongst her peers.

The very prospect of manning the Communications duty station aboard a vessel with one of the most sophisticated subspace comms arrays in the entire Fourth Fleet, filled her with as much anticipation as it did trepidation.

As the runabout began it’s descent, its flightpath would lead the relatively – tiny craft between the towering twin – struts that supported the oversized lozenge – shape of the  Lexington’s Mission Pod, Emily let out an involuntary yelp of surprise and her slim hand gripped the material on the back of the pilot’s chair that little bit more tightly as a close stream of tiny starfighters suddenly emerged from the Starboard pylon, fleet and agile predators clawing at the night!

“Oh!” she breathed, as the sharply angled hulls of the Valkyrie’s passed overhead, a flash of white and impression of speed, then they were gone as suddenly as they had appeared.

The runabout pilot smiled as he confidently guided his craft down the approach – vector mirrored on the screen of the small craft by virtue of the holographic heads – up – display. He too remembered what it was like to be young, fresh out of the Academy and seeing your first true command for the very first time.

“That’s the Banshees” The pilot explained as the large, trifurcated main Shuttlebay loomed before them, a bright oblong set in the undulating hull of the main saucer section. Emily knew from the exhaustive research that she had conducted on her way here from Starbase 72, that the Lexington did not yet have an embarked escort ship assigned to her, so currently a modular secondary Shuttlebay was currently installed in the slot in the stern, which would normally house a fully – warp – capable support craft.

“Banshees?” Emily echoed, rolling the word around in her mouth, her tongue enjoying how the consonants sounded.

“Technically VA – 237, that’s the number designation they give attack – squadrons.” The sure – handed pilot committed to his landing and the runabout slowed as it began to enter the cavernous port – Shuttlebay. Inside Emily could see a profusion of activity, as the busy business of flight operations was enacted in the bright bay.

“But they call themselves the “Banshees”, same way the fighter ‘Jocks” n “Jills” give themselves those ridiculous callsigns, like “Striker” and “Lowdown.” The runabout pilot shook his head and grinned ruefully, before adding.”

“What a bunch of hard-ons! You’d do better than to avoid the Pilot’s mess if you want my advice, Midshipman.”

Emily smiled with amusement at this unsought  – for advice and patted the back of the pilot’s seat.

“I’ll bear that in mind. Thanks for the ride. Real smooth flying.” She thanked the pilot and went to retake her seat temporarily, as the swift runabout began to set down and was towed to its allotted revetment parking – space off the active flightline.

“We try.” The pilot winked as he began the post – flight checklist and powered down the runabout’s systems, adding.

“Welcome to the USS Lexington!”

Emily hefted the Starfleet – issue kitbag that contained all of her worldly belongings and paused by the entry hatch for it to cycle and the departure steps to deploy, before she stepped out into the noise and bustle of Shuttlebay 3 and cast her gaze around in awe at her new reality.

“Midshipman Eaves?” Spoke a light, feminine voice. “Welcome to the USS Lexington.”

Emily’s eyes tracked the voice and discovered it’s owner to be what appeared to be another Starfleet Midshipman, attired as she in the same grey and burgundy Academy uniform and belonging to another girl in her late teens, of African heritage with a wide welcoming style and her dark hair gathered neatly behind her head in exactly the sort of neat – bun that Emily herself approved of.

“Oh! Hello!” Emily returned the young woman’s welcoming smile and cast around for a senior officer. “I didn’t know that there would be other Midshipman aboard, silly of me really!” She shrugged easily. “Are you waiting to be assigned too?”

The girl just smiled more widely (a beatific, megawatt smile that put Emily instantly at ease) and she laughed lightly and shook her head, explaining.

“Oh, heavens no! I’m not a Midshipman!” The brown – skinned girl cocked her head in an endearing affectation and spread her hands wide, as if in explanation.

“My name is P.A.N.! Personnel Acclimation Node.” The girl explained patiently. “I’ve been assigned by the ship’s computer to conduct your onboarding process and ensure that your integration to the crew is as smooth as possible.”

Emily’s eyes widened in recognition and she felt the ‘Redhead’s Curse” as a warm flush of embarrassment tinged her pale cheeks with a warm diffusion of red.

“Oh! You’re a hologram! I’m sorry!” She blurted and instantly felt even more foolish, afraid that she had insulted Pan and then even more foolish when she realized she was embarrassed about being embarrassed about offending a hologram.

Pan grinned broadly and shook her head lightly.

“Oh, don’t worry yourself about it! I’m not offended in the least, although I do tend to prefer the term Photonically – projected Entity really.” The Hologram teased.

Emily felt her cheeks flush even more warmly, as she wallowed in the mire of her own mawkishness.

“Just kidding – Hologram does just fine!” Pan assured her and held out a sure hand.

“Can I take your bag for you?”

Emily gathered herself and shifted her grip on the hold all that was slung across her shoulder, shaking her auburn – haired head.

“No thanks, I got it.” She assured the hologram, who nodded and withdrew the offered hand and slapped it briskly together with its twin.

“So! Let’s get you situated in your quarters so you can square your gear away and then we can take a tour of the ship so you can get the lay-of-the-land, so to speak!” Pan prompted and together the pair made their way down the yellow – stenciled walkways that denoted the safe path of travel, towards a nearby bank of turbolifts.

As they walked, Emily glanced over at the Hologram and decided to satisfy something that was on her mind.

“So, do you greet all new arrivals Pan? That must make you very busy.”

Pan laughed lightly and shook her head impassively.

“Oh, God’s no!” The Hologram appeared amused at the prospect. “I’m not an independent entity; per se. Rather I am one of many autonomous projections managed by the ship’s computer. I have independent agency, but there are hundreds of similar P.A.N. projects active at any time, fulfilling any number of scheduled tasks in support of the Lexington’s organic crewmembers.”

Emily looked around the Shuttlebay and frowned as they reached the turbolifts, waiting as the doors hissed quietly into their recess’ before stepping into the car.

“But surely I’d be seeing more of you around? You seem to be the only one here?” She wondered aloud.

Again, this seemed to amuse the Hologram greatly and Pan shook her head as she commanded the turbolift to take them to their destination deck.

“My current appearance is based upon a complex algorithm that the ship’s computer had prepared, using your psychological profile as a base. I present as the type of person who it is calculated will put you most at ease, it helps with the acclimation process.” Pan smiled and suddenly she morphed into a young human, Caucasian male. Growing a full 8 inches taller and developing admirably broad shoulders.

He looked uncomfortably a little more than similar to Rohen Daar, a Cadet with inescapably beautiful – green eyes who she’d had a crush on in her Sophomore year at the Academy.

“If you prefer, I could always take on the form which the Algorithm calculates is the human male form you most prefer?”

Emily felt a sudden pang of attraction come unbidden to her chest and she blushed again. There was something deeply disturbing about having the ship’s computer know what intimate details she found attractive and reconstituting them into this golem – form.

Sensing her discomfiture, Pan morphed again and now Emily was shocked to find herself face-to-face with her old Academy rival, Cadet Sybok.

Pan stared back at her with the Vulcan’s judgmental eyebrow cocked sky – high and in Sybok’s arch and self – satisfied voice, the Hologram explained.

“I can adopt any species, gender or even any person you like?” Pan/Sybok smiled and Emily didn’t know quite where to put herself.

Pan morphed once more, Sybok’s Vulcan features thankfully melting away, until the Hologram became neither male nor female and of no discernable species. Sexless, tall with blank,  unreflective black eyes,, Emily found this last transformation the most unsettling at all.

“Some people prefer a more ‘Inter’ – form to their liking. More neutral?” Pan shrugged easily, it’s voice neither here nor there.

Emily winced uncomfortably and confessed, “I think I liked it better when you were just my Pan?”

Pan smiled and, in an instant, she returned to the original form that she had worn, when they had met just minutes before.

“My favorite too.” Pan winked conspiratorially as the Turbolift doors opened out onto a small forest.

Emily had cause to wonder again as the pair stepped out into the largest onboard Abortorium she had ever seen. She instantly regretting standing with her mouth open like an idiot, because an insect chose that moment to fly right in there, casing her to start and then spit the intruder out.

A warm summer’s breeze brought the pleasant smell of cut grass and fecundity as they pair walked downhill through the Abortorium’s lush verdant trails. High above, a Holomatrix produced the illusion of a brilliant blue sky, dotted with the mackerel – bone brushstrokes of high – placed cloud displacement, teased apart by a fictious slipstream.

The effect was stupefying.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Pan smiled proudly as she waved cheerily to a group of picnickers who were sat down at the edge of a small, sun – dappled lake and Emily was forced to remember that she was actually talking to the ship’s computer, which was echoing its pride it its accomplishment through the hologram beside her.

It really made her think hard about the question of reality.

“Pan? How self – aware are you really?” Emily felt compelled to ask.

Pan stopped and turned to Emily, it’s facial features playful and obviously taking no offence.

“How real am I?” The Hologram smiled gnomically.

Emily felt a little foolish in asking, but she nodded evenly. “If you like.”

Pan pointed down to where a Bajoran couple, one in civilian garb and another in Uniform, were walking slowly, each supporting a doddering toddler by his chubby hands as the infants legs tottered away in that odd way they do when hampered by a diaper. It made him look incongruously like a little old man, despite his tender years.

“That’s Ensign Dar Kalen and his wife Trella.” Pan explained and waved to them. The couple waved back as best they could.

“And that little bundle of sunshine is Wellan.” The Hologram grinned indulgently. “I officiated at their wedding three years ago. Wellan is their first child. They had problems conceiving and I am sad to say that I had to console them both when Trella miscarried the first two times. I’m thankful to confirm that, with Dr Carrington’s fertility treatments, that young Wellan is about as happy and healthy as a boy can be, thank the Prophet’s”

Emily blinked. The warmth with which Pan related the couple’s potted history seemed warm and genuine.

Pan indicated another person, a Human male in middle age, who was sat alone at the water’s edge, seemingly looking out into the middle distance, lost in thought.

“That’s Lieutenant Tom Eisner.”  Pan smiled sadly. “Tom’s just been through his second divorce, but he’s an aspiring poet and is probably considering some way to express his inner sadness in the form of a sonnet that he hopes will inspire others. Tom’s very altruistic like that. He’s considering leaving Starfleet to become a full – time poet, which I think is unwise, because he truly is a very talented astrometric specialist and it would be a shame because he’s not a very good poet.”

Emily laughed despite herself at the Hologram’s quip.

“Parlor tricks aside, in answer to your question. I am a fully autonomous sub – routine slaved to the central processing unit of the Ship’s computer. Ostensibly I am an extension of the vessels Artificial Intelligence, able to emulate creative and individual thought to the degree which is indistinguishable to a normal but lacking in the true agency that you would associate with individuality.” Pan responded and Emily suddenly felt bad that her question had forced the Hologram to dehumanize itself.

It felt the same as if the Hologram of the sky above had been deactivated, revealing the truth of the ceiling above them as the bottom of the adjacent deck, one level up.

Noticing her disquiet, Pan took Emily’s hand it its down, it’s maniple forcefields making it feel just as solid as her own, and  gently squeezed in a remarkably human – like display of reassurance.

“To Kalen and Trella, I am as real as they want me to be. I’ve been asked to attend Wellan’s first day at the Kindergarten, next week, which I am proud to do so.” Pan explained earnestly, a twinkle in its digitized eye.

“Doubtless I will be sharing more drinks and commiserations with Lieutenant Eisner at the “Ion – Bar” tonight and for many nights to come, until Tom feels ready to open his heart to someone again, without it getting hurt.” The Hologram nodded sagely.

Pan indicated the Abortorium and its current inhabitants, by way of encompassing all of the people under its watchful care.

“I am real to every single soul aboard this vessel. I am intimate with every facet of their lives and dedicate my entire attention to ensuring that they are provided an environment that is conducive to their health, happiness and ability to realize their full potential.” Pan explained proudly.

“In many ways, they things I do for them are considered so commonplace as to go unnoticed and that is exactly how they are designed to be. In so much as an AI is able to understand love, I care deeply for each and every soul aboard the Lexington. Some people are harder to love than others, if I am being absolutely honest, but I tend to find that there is good inside everyone, sometimes it just takes patience to discover how to share that light with others.”

The hologram smiled openly at Emily, who felt dumbfounded at the altruism on display. Despite her relative youth she knew that she too had mostly taken for granted the things that the systems around her provided. She had never really personified the technology that took care of her every need and it was both revelatory and slightly humbling to realize that the ship that bore her through the cosmos also found the time to ensure that it cared for its occupants on such an intimate level.

It was hard to know what to say, but Emily found herself truthfully assuring Pan.

“I think everyone’s very lucky to have you.” She smiled earnestly. “I know that I, for one, am so very grateful to be here.”

Pan squeezed her hand again and the pair began to walk, hand-in-hand, to the point where the Arboretum ended at the bulkhead and the illusion of an outdoor space ended.

“We’re so glad that you’re joining us and we hope that you’ll come to feel that this is home?” The ship’s computer assured her , through Pan, as it keyed the hatch to exit, the adopted a faux – serious expression.

“Although, I must warn you. We’re about to take a shortcut through the Promenade and currently they are celebrating Rangwali Holi and there is no way in creation that either of us are going to get through unscathed! Don’t worry though, I’m sure the sonic shower will get the worst of the pigment out of your hair and we can always replicate you a clean uniform!” Pan winked mischievously.

Emily knew that Holi was a Hindu celebration of Kamadeva, the God of Love, attraction, pleasure and beauty, where people where people smear and drench each other in a profusion of bright and joyous colors by throwing gulal (colored powders).

True enough, when the portal slid back, it revealed a space which Holograms had transformed into a faithful recreation of a bustling street – market in Andhra Pradesh, groups sang and danced, some playing drums and dholak. A bewilderment of stores crammed the sidelines, each selling traditional delicacies such as gujiya, mathri & malpuas and the air was filled with exotic and mouthwatering smells, as bright powder – puff explosions of vivid, hurled color punctuated the air and covered the particolored festival goers in rainbow hues.

Emily put her hands to her face and giggled at the sheer outrageousness of the incongruous scene before her.

“But I thought that Holi was traditionally celebrated in March in India, isn’t it? It’s June, right now!!”

Pan considered this for a moment and then shrugged lightly, dismissing the incongruity with a sniff.

“Well, the crew voted for it, so happy Holi, I say!” The Hologram assured her, as it retook her hand and drew her into the happy confusion of chaos beyond. The sound was deafening and the proceedings so enthusiastic that Emily wasn’t entirely sure that she heard what Pan said clearly as they stepped into a cloud of color, but she could have sworn that the hologram had asserted somewhat dryly;

“Besides, I’m a 1.062-meter-long  Starfleet Heavy Explorer and a Dreadnought, so I can pretty much do what I like!”