"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."
-- Sun Tzu, The Art of War
As you wake to find yourself on the acceleration couch in Control, you can expect the muscle memory of your training to come back first: the product of intensive drills designed to prepare you for both combat and the stresses of command. The reintegration of your memory framework follows: your years at the academy and all that came before. Finally, critical mission data will be directly encoded to your mind, giving you the most recent status reports available, for all that you weren't even aware of your own existence during the ship's long journey to this distant star.
This is what you trained for. This is what you are.
So why don't you know what you're supposed to be doing here?