And so Kara was with him when assignments were posted. They had made plans for a game of triad and then a rare night out together, since even history majors celebrated assignment day. As Kara had pointed out, it was tradition to get sloshed after receiving one's second-year placement, and if there was anything history majors respected, it was tradition.

Some of the other cadets were nervous about their assignments, but Lee and Kara were basically guaranteed their spots. He could have his pick of concentrations, and she had passed her classes by a respectable margin. Everyone knew that her name was going to be at the very top of the pilot roster.

It turned out that everyone was horribly, tragically wrong. When official assignments were posted, her name was second on the pilot list. His was first.

Right, Lee thought. So this is why I don't do optimism. In the back of his mind, he'd half-suspected something like this, but he'd repressed that fear pretty thoroughly. He hadn't wanted to believe that his father would actually do it. Hadn't wanted to believe that the system would actually let him get away with it.

Kara tried to make a grab for him but he pushed her off with shaking hands and said, "Just give me awhile" and she backed off.

--------------------------

He stalked over to his professor's office and proceeded to give him a chewing out that would have made Kara proud. Once he'd calmed down enough to actually allow the professor to talk, he found that his dad had pulled strings not at the academy itself, but at the officer training school, arguing that there was a war coming, that they had to be ready, that they needed the best and the brightest in the field.

The worst part of it was that Lee was pretty sure no one in officer training school actually believed his father. But if an old war hero wanted his son to be a pilot, who were they to stand in the way?

A wire call to his dad was met with a comm officer's voice telling him politely that his father was on his sleep shift and had asked not to be disturbed. Clearly he had anticipated Lee's reaction, and just as clearly he had told the officer, because otherwise a planetside call from a family member would have been patched through to quarters immediately. Lee told the comm officer that, and kept calling, every five minutes, until she finally broke down and let him speak with his father.

It was an unpleasant conversation, though it had its highlights. Lee had not raised his voice the entire time, though he'd been screaming inside, and it was the first time he'd managed that in an argument with his father. He also thought he'd managed to convey precisely what he thought of his old man's interference, and exactly what it meant for their relationship. There wasn't much ambiguity in, "I don't want to be a pilot. I don't want to be anything like you. I don't want anything to do with you. I don't plan on ever speaking to you again."

Maybe being a historian was a stupid idea after all, Lee reflected, as he slammed down the wireless and went back to his room. After all, who wanted to study people? They were entirely useless creatures.

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He went back to his quarters and proceeded to destroy everything he could. Eventually, he had nothing left but his books. The likelihood that he would ever need them again was slim, but he couldn't quite bring himself to destroy them, so he sat down on his bed and started to think about putting his fist through the wall instead.

When someone started knocking on his door, he decided to ignore it, because he wasn't up to dealing with anyone at the moment, thank you very much. But then the knock was followed by a very familiar voice. Damn it he thought, they'd agreed to go out to celebrate. There was no way that was happening now.

"Lee, I know you're in there. Stop being a wimp, and open the door."

"I'm not going out, Kara."

"I know. Just let me in."

He did, but only because the destruction of half his room, combined with impotent rage, had wiped him out, and he didn't have the energy to fight her.

Kara shouldered her way past him as if she were afraid that he might change his mind and close the door on her after all.

When her eyes settled on Lee, she actually looked a little surprised. "You look like crap, pretty boy."

Perhaps she knew what she was doing, making sure she wasn't too close to the door. He was kind of tempted to throw her right back out again.

It must have showed on his face, because her expression softened and she grabbed his hand and led him over to his bed. She tugged him down to sit beside her, then twined their fingers together in a solid grip.

She was silent for several moments, a minor miracle for Kara, as she turned his hand over in her own. It wasn't a tender gesture, or at least, that wasn't all it was. She looked more curious than anything else, running her smaller hands over his larger one as if mapping out its contours would reveal some sort of secret. He was suddenly glad that he hadn't put his fist through the wall.

"I'm not very good at this comfort thing, I know," she said eventually, still staring at their linked hands, "but I'm going to try, okay?."

He said nothing. He had seen Kara's attempts at comfort before, and quite frankly, they didn't inspire much confidence. They'd usually ended with her getting frustrated, giving up, and then trying to beat the other party into submission. If she tried to beat him right now, he was going to explode. The only thing keeping him from pushing her out the door was the fact that he knew she could handle herself if he did.

She didn't seem inclined to push though.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Oh. Well. That's good then," she said, and she really did sound relieved. "I'm not so great at the whole feelings thing either."

"I've noticed," Lee said dryly, and Kara slapped him, but it hurt a lot less than it usually did, because her dominate hand was still linked with his.

He was going to do this, he thought, looking at their linked hands. He wasn't going to let his father tear him away from what he wanted. If he had to go through officer training to get enough people on his side, then he'd do it.

He wasn't a war hero, but he also wasn't a crazy crank either, and as soon as he figured out the rules, he could play this stupid assignments system just as well as his dad. Better.