[ It is early September, 2358. JULIAN BASHIR, our protagonist, has just arrived at Starfleet Academy and is searching for his living quarters. ]

Third floor, very end of the hall, she’d said. This must be it, then. I took an anticipatory breath and punched in my PIN for the door… and then gave it a second try and a third. I double-checked I had all the digits in order, even though I was sure I did; I double-checked this was, in fact, the right door, even though I was sure it was; and eventually reached the conclusion that this damned keypad must be on its last leg and would require more force than it should. The door finally slid open.

Sitting on the floor of the entryway was a teenage boy who I could only assume must be my roommate. He looked to be partway through disassembling something fairly large and full of wiring, though I couldn’t tell what it was – or rather, had been. He seemed to notice me after a few seconds and got to his feet, brushing himself off. He wasn’t tall but he was striking, with cheekbones like an old film star and dark brown skin. He smiled a little and pushed his bright purple glasses back into place before offering me a hand. It’d occur to me later that I’d never met anyone else from this century who actually wore glasses.

“I’m Felix, Felix Knightly,” he said. “I moved in yesterday, but I wasn’t expecting you here until tomorrow, so apologies for the mess.” Felix spoke Standard with an accent loosely similar to that of the tour guide I’d met earlier – between that and his early move-in, I figured he was likely a California local – but his intonation was far flatter and the accent itself had an additional, unusual quality to it that I couldn’t quite place.

“Julian. Pleasure meeting you,” I replied, bringing myself to shake his hand before I could get too much more lost in observation. “And not a problem at all. Could I ask you what it is?” I gestured to the mysterious object.

“Don’t even get me started,” he said, his tone light though it was clear the embarrassment in his words was genuine. “You just got here. At least give me a couple hours to pretend I’m cool.”

“Please? I promise I won't say anything rude. I haven’t the faintest idea and it’s going to eat at me until I know. Besides, it’s in our common area.”

Felix sighed, defeated. “It’s an old subspace radio, late twenty-second century old. And I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but I’m almost done fixing it.”

My eyes went wide. “You can do that?”

“I mean, sure. I’ve been at it for a while.”

“How old are you, exactly?”

“Sixteen.”

“Sixteen?! You’re practically a child prodigy.”

“Not really,” he said, fighting back a smile. “My dad’s the one who’s good at this stuff, I’m just a passable copycat. But how old are you, then?”

“...Seventeen. As of last week.” That earned me a laugh. “I take it you’ll be in Operations?”

“Where could you have ever gotten that wild idea, I wonder?” he deadpanned, one eyebrow raised, and it was my turn to laugh. “What about you?”

“I’m going to be a doctor.”

“No way, man. Everyone knows pre-meds aren’t any fun.”

“And engineers are?”

“Point taken.” He went quiet for a second, eyes narrowed on something behind me. “You are Julian Bashir, right?” I nodded reluctantly – surely there was no chance we’d met before? “Just checking. Your name is up on the second bedroom door, but I think they got it a little wrong.”

Shit. I must’ve made a face, because Felix averted his gaze and abruptly changed the subject.

“Do you want any help bringing your stuff in?”

“My stuff, yes. No, thank you! I think I can manage.”

“Suit yourself.” He rocked back and forth on his feet a few times. “Well, I’ll be around if you need something, so feel free to ask. If not, then you’ll probably see me in the morning.”

“Thank you, Felix.”

“You’re very welcome.”