Just a little something more world-buildy than anything else. Halsey could spin off as many core copies of himself as the system he was inhabiting allowed, but the U.S.S. Bacco was an exploration vessel and thus free clock cycles were, more often than not, pretty rare. Instead he chose to spin off dumb copies. Functional in their desired roll, though nowhere near his full, purely brilliant, self. Medical assistants, engineering deckhands, maintenance when the bio-bags couldn’t be bothered with it and security. It was those security copies that disappointed him the most. His crew had taken to calling them holo-lemmings. They weren’t wrong. They were idiots in the purest sense. Sure, they could patrol the corridors and point a phaser when needed, but they were just too stupid for anything more complex. Aside, of course, from singing. They patrolled, and they sung. “I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK. I sleep all night and I work all day” haunted the decks in the darker shipboard hours and the most powerful intellect on board had no idea why.