Gracie Lothan sat at the large bay window, watching the large docking bay as ships moved through the insides of Montana Station. The lunch hour was underway, and she’d started to make a habit of making use of the time to do some ship watching.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Lothan.” She turned, startled at the baritone voice. She was slightly reassured to be face to face with Hasara, a fellow resident of Montana Station. He owned and operated The House of Hasara, a hotel, gaming, and entertainment venue.

“To you as well, Mr. Hasara.” She saw the food tray in his hand. “There’s plenty of room if you wanted to join me.” His smile didn’t unsettle her like she expected. It was, instead, unusually warm. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

He sat on the comfortable long couch, a foot from her. “Plenty of good views from here.”

Gracie picked at her plate. Cardassians were, in her opinion, of two kinds. The imposing and unnerving kind who looked and acted as if they could, with a flick of a wrist, tear you limb from limb. And mean it. The other kind was the amusing kind. Full of bluster and pompousness that failed to hide the weak nature just below the surface. Hasara was one of the first. While his smile had brought her a measure of comfort, the rest of him remained tightly wound, ready to strike. “You don’t strike me as someone who does conversational lunches, Mr. Hasara.” He put a hand to his chest, as if in shock. Her frown remained in place, and he chuckled.

“I resent the accusation, Ms. Lothan.” A wry smile lined his lips. He snagged some bites from his meal, seeming to savor the flavor. Downing a pull from his amber colored drink, he turned back to her. “You’re not entirely wrong in your statement. I rarely do social events without a purpose. The ones I must attend frustrate me so.” He looked at her for a long moment. “I have an offer for you. I’ve read your engineering scores. You have an innate skill with machinery.” He turned on the couch to face her, his eyes deadly serious. “I have a ship. The SS Wandering Wolf. Kaplan F17-class.”

She felt an almost electric pulse strike through her body. She’d been studying that class of ship for the last few years. Plenty of them had come through the colony. They were unique in their versatility. While her mind and heart were completing an unending series of backflips, she attempted a controlled response. “I’m familiar. What generation is yours?”

Hasara’s smile changed to one of curiosity, “Second generation. You seem more familiar than most, Ms. Lothan.”

She narrowed her eyes, remembering what he had said after he’d sat down. “You said you had an offer for me.” The eyes of the Cardassian, subdued, suddenly brightened.

“I understand you’re still deciding which possibilities to pursue…enlisted or academy…or something else.” She replied with a slight nod. “Most classes don’t start until August. I’m prepared to offer you a paid internship as an assistant engineer on my ship.” He pulled a tablet from his pocket, sliding it across the couch. “My terms and conditions.”

Gracie stared at him in disbelief. “You’re crazy. I’m still working through my…experience.”

Hasara shrugged, “There’s room enough for your counselor if you’d like to have a plus one. I understand Juliet Woodward has some time off available.”

A quiet nervousness had crept throughout the conversation, and now the volume had accelerated. “You seem to have thought of everything. If I say no?”

The Cardassian shrugged for a second time. “There are plenty of people on this station who would take the latinum without a thought or care, Ms. Lothan. I came to you first out of curiosity.” He looked at her expectantly. She felt he was judging her or playing a game of guilt. The latinum, she knew, would be helpful. At the same time, the station had given her quarters free of charge and a daily allowance to use on the promenade. And yet…she had started to feel trapped. The station was massive and had plenty of space to explore. There had been this tug in her heart that grew – the desire to get away into the stars.

“How much time do I have to decide?”

“End of the day. Think carefully, but quickly, Ms. Lothan. Time is of the essence.” He stood, giving one last glance to the bay. “We’d be lucky to have you.” He walked away.

Gracie sat back on the couch. What a choice. What a chance. She pulled out a PADD and tapped a message to Juliet. She was going to need help deciding.