Clair Hull stood in the back of the room, watching the judo class come to an end. People, mostly wearing white belts, filed out the door, leaving the tatami mat almost empty. Only four remained, lingering after the others left. Hiakowa Sazuki, the instructor, was trying to help Priscilla Nates - one of his newer students. Priscilla, in her new, blinding-white judogi, was clumsily trying to throw Lyndon Fletcher. He stood there patiently in his own faded gi, looking much more at home than anyone else in the room while Hiakowa gave further directions. Priscilla's daughter, Carley, sat watching them with mild interest. Even Carley wore her own tiny, child-sized gi.

"It won't work!" Priscilla declared. But she smiled and laughed, enjoying the humor in her failed attempts. "Lyndon's too hard to throw!"

"Here," Hiakowa pushed Lyndon aside, "work with me for a minute." He stood before Priscilla, carefully guiding her through the subtle patterns and mechanics of the throw.

"Come here Carley," Lyndon called to the toddler, "think you can beat up uncle Lyndon?"

Giggling, Carley scampered over to him.

Hull, dreading the bad news she had to deliver, followed the mat's edge to where Lyndon was standing. He hoisted Carley up onto his shoulder and walked over to speak with his commanding officer.

"Come to join the class?" he asked, smiling with his usual friendly manner. Clair Hull proved an excellent security chief, insisting on respect but not formality from her officers.

"One of these days I will," she told him, trying to sound cheerful, delaying the news so that things might be all right for a moment longer. She frowned then, stalling the inevitable. She glanced over to where Priscilla was working with Hiakowa... and then forced herself to meet Lyndon's eyes.

"Something wrong?" Lyndon asked, swinging Carley back down to the mat.

"Ensign Fletcher..." Clair began and then started over, "Lyndon... Giovanni sent me down here to tell you... that she just got word that..." she sighed, committed now to finish the statement, "that you've been reassigned."

Lyndon was speechless.

Priscilla, halfway through the throw, looked up in total surprise. Off balance, she dropped Hiakowa in an ungraceful heap and then fell on him. Only Carley found reason to smile at their clumsiness.

Clair shrugged uncomfortably, put a hand on Lyndon's shoulder, "Sorry kid, it happens sometimes."

"Where to?" the junior security officer finally found his voice.

"The Wildcat," she answered, "one of the new special division training ships."

Lyndon closed his eyes, feeling very much like a man sentenced to hell. He'd heard of the Wildcat, more than he'd wanted to know.

Hiakowa and Priscilla, still in a disheveled tangle on the mat, exchanged a glance of shock and unhappiness. What was happening?

* * * * * They sat in Lyndon's quarters. Lyndon sat calmly drinking a cup of tea, listening to his friends' frantic chatter.

"I can't believe this!" Hiakowa shook his head.

"I can't either," Priscilla fretted, "how can they do this?"

"Well, I guess Starfleet can do whatever they want," Hiakowa pointed out morosely.

"It isn't right," Priscilla scowled, and then she turned to Lyndon, "what are you going to do?"

"Serve aboard the Wildcat, I presume," he answered quietly.

"Lynnon goin' way?" Carley tugged on his pantleg.

"For a while," he said carefully, wondering if she would understand.

"Hmmmm," she considered this and ducked under the table to retrieve a toy.

"So that's it!" Priscilla exclaimed, "You're just going to accept it and sit there, sipping your tea and being so... so..." she struggled to pin down the definition, "so completely and horribly..."

"British," Hiakowa supplied helpfully.

Lyndon's eyes met Hiakowa's with a look that sadly, simply agreed. There was no point in fussing over something beyond his control. He leaned back in his chair and gestured towards Josey's cage, which stood empty, "I was going to ask one of you to take care of Josey for me-"

"Where is she?" Priscilla noticed for the first time that Lyndon's pet rat was missing.

"Where Jodi?" Carley mispronounced, standing on tiptoe to peer into the empty cage.

"Here Car-car," Lyndon offered her a cookie, "try one of these."

When Carley wandered off, Lyndon turned away from the cage to rest his elbows on the table. "When I came back from practice I found she had died," he looked down at his tea and then back at his friends, "seems things always go to hell all at once."

"I'm sorry Lyndon," Hiakowa didn't know what else to say.

The security ensign shrugged, "Well, rats aren't terribly long-lived creatures anyway... and I wouldn't have wanted to leave her behind."

"I'm sorry we can't all be so obliging," Priscilla said drily.

"We might never see each other again!" Hiakowa seemed dumbfounded by his sudden realization.

"Don't say that!" Priscilla ordered sharply, "Don't give up yet!"

"Pris," Lyndon spoke softly, "what would you have me do? Refuse transfer? Resign from Starfleet? You know I'd do anything to stay... but I don't really have any choice."

She mulled this over before saying, "I hate Starfleet," with great conviction and feeling.

Hiakowa and Lyndon, in complete unison, answered, "So do I."

"Me too!" Carley declared with a spark of Priscilla's own vehemence. Scattering cookie crumbs hither and yon, she clambered up into Lyndon's lap, saying, "Hate 'em!!"

Chuckling sadly, Lyndon hugged the little girl. He had wondered lately if Carley might one day become his step-daughter. He looked across to Priscilla and thought of the marriage proposal that he hadn't the courage yet to offer. It wasn't easy for a young man to choose a direction in his life, but he didn't have a choice any longer. He was leaving the next day to begin serving on the Wildcat.

"Isn't there anything that Lieutenant Hull can do?" Hiakowa asked without much hope.

Lyndon sighed, "She said that if I put in six months I might be able to request a transfer back here without causing too much of an uproar. But there's no saying they'll approve it."

"And they might transfer you anywhere else," Hiakowa concluded fatalistically.

"Hull said she wished she could help," Lyndon added on the security chief's behalf, "but being a lieutenant doesn't give her much pull." He sighed, angry and miserable, "I'm scheduled to leave in two weeks."

The three looked round at one another, powerless to oppose the decisions that had already been made.