Montana Station was huge. Alayna Bertrand had stepped off the Nebula class starship and hadn’t stopped gaping at the size of the Canopus-class starbase. She carried her bags with her, having been instructed to report to quarters on the station pending her assignment. They had told her her larger luggage would already be waiting for her in the room. She was 22, and had graduated early. That had been exciting – to accomplish the thing she’d been working so hard to complete. That excitement was slowly sapping away at the reality of how far she was from home and how deep into the rimward she had traveled. She’d kept to herself on the way here, and had found a few amusements on the aging Nebula class that had bought her here. She’d turned to her language books in the middle of the trip while taking time to get in a run or two every few days.

Alayna walked, in constant wonder, seeing the promenade full of varying species, groups, and shops. Her eyes widened as she passed shop on shop selling various items from across borders to the colony below and even reminders of life back home. She forced herself to walk on. She arrived at her temporary quarters and fell back onto the bed, feeling some comfort in a bed that wasn’t on a starship.

Her eyes had nearly closed when her PADD beeped, which pushed her to sit up and read the message. She gasped, “Ensign Alayna Bertrand has been requested to meet with Captain Samson Bradley in one hour.” The message directed her to a conference room in Starfleet Operations. She had put her application for several ships that would be staffing their positions at Montana Station. She hadn’t expected to receive an interview request on the first day aboard. Taking a deep breath, she went to unpack her clothes. She didn’t have much time.

The door to the conference room slid open and she stepped through. An older man sat at the center seat. She read his rank as captain and stood at attention, still awkwardly trying to do it right, “Ensign Alayna Bertrand, reporting as requested sir.” His eyes were bright, betraying the worn lines on his face.

He stood, extending his hand, “Captain Samson Bradley. Have a seat, ensign.” She shook his hand firmly, and he returned to his seat. She took the one on the corner, facing him. Alayna had brought her PADD, hoping to transfer her nervous energy into the device. It wasn’t working. She adjusted herself in the chair, attempting to find some level of comfort. It wasn’t working. He had a PADD of his own and a console on the table. “Your Academy record shows you to be a determined individual, Ms. Bertrand. You’ve applied to every ship you could. Plenty of them are here at Montana.” He tapped at his PADD and slid it to her, “I’m looking to fill a department head position in communications aboard the USS Zephyr.” She glanced at the device and her mouth dropped open. She glanced at his dossier in the limited time she had to prepare for the meeting.

The ship’s name had slipped by her and she regretted not doing more preparation work. “A Typhoon class. That’s…that’s a big ship. Sir.” She stared at the sleek lumbering giant on the PADD. They were the latest in line from the reborn Curiosity Project and full of new equipment. She shook her head, clearing the cobwebs of wonder, “Why me, sir?” Alayna felt her face warm, “I mean, I’m incredibly appreciative of this meeting! I just…I…you think I’m a candidate to lead your communications department. On the Zephyr. The Typhoon Class Zephyr.”

A sly smile slid onto the captain’s face, “Yes, Ensign Bertrand.” He pulled his PADD back and opened his notes, “On paper you have every quality a captain would want. Dedicated, passionate, always learning and never giving up on solving a problem.” He motioned to her PADD, “You probably have a few interview requests coming in now.” She frowned and opened it up, having silenced it for this meeting out of respect. Her mouth dropped open again as the messages began to update, filling the screen. Alayna went from him to the screen and back again. He explained, “I’ve been working on replacing some key pieces of my crew – and communications is the final part of the puzzle. When your application came through, I knew I had to meet you first before anybody else had the chance. Your instructors speak highly of you.”

Alayna was startled and amazed. She had self-confidence but had expected to get a Nebula, or maybe if she was lucky a New Orleans. She’d had dreams of a Galaxy or a Sovereign. “You want an ensign as department head?”

The smile faded from the captain’s face, “No, Ensign Bertrand…I want you as the communications department head.” A frown passed over his eyebrows, “Do you usually question people who express admiration for your talent and compliment your skills?”

Her face grew warmer than the last, “I’m sorry, sir.”

Captain Bradley replied, “The best kind of apology is changed behavior, ensign.” He slid the PADD back to her, “Solve that for me.”

Her eyes searched the screen. It was a linguistic puzzle. In Klingon. She didn’t protest. She had learned the hard way, complainers get nothing but back to the end of the line. She pulled it closer, her hands slowly taking the task to work. A few errors forced her back to the start as her mind worked to connect the dots through linguistic structure. Ten minutes later, the entire section was green and complete. She slid it back to him, “High Klingon was a choice, sir.” Alayna let out a long sigh, “I’m solid on Klingon, but the high stuff took me a bit.”

He studied the screen, “That puzzle takes an hour to complete for most candidates I’ve tested. You took fifteen minutes, ensign.” She could see a question on his face.

“I didn’t cheat.”

“That wasn’t my question.” His eyes searched hers for something, she wasn’t sure. He asked, “Working with others – that’s my question.”

She grimaced. Alayna had wondered what impact her decisions during her four years would have in moments like these. She could feel sweat forming in her pits, and nerves in her stomach starting to jangle. “I’m…aware of it. I need to work on it.”  She thought quickly.  She didn’t want to lose out.  She asked, “I wonder if having someone to mentor me in this might help, sir?”

His sly smile returned, “You sound like someone who wants the job.”

Her face bloomed for the third time in the interview and she cursed her mouth from the start of the meeting. “I recognize it may seem like a change of heart and mind, sir…but that’s the case. Sitting here, doing that puzzle…I’m not sure I’d want to talk to any other ship.” She looked him in the eye, “I want to be your communications chief, Captain Bertrand.”

The man squinted his eyes at her, drumming his fingers on the table.  She felt her heart sink.  He wasn’t going to take her.  Back to the pile she would go.  He spoke at last, surprising her, “Let’s meet on the bridge for a second interview in two hours. I’ll send you some materials with instructions. Bring the work with you.”

She stood awkwardly. She hadn’t gotten the job outright, but there was a second piece to the process. She managed to stand at attention this time, and the captain dismissed her. Her walk back to her quarters was filled with questions and worries. She needed to prove herself.

She wanted this job.