"They
don't hand out secret and important missions to cadet units unless
they're really on the ball!"
"But we've got Major 'Blast-off' Connel to educate," grumbled Roger.
"What do you mean 'educate'?" asked Astro.
"You know he's the roughest officer in the Academy," replied the
blond-haired cadet. "He eats cadets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
And then has an extra one for dessert. He isn't just tough--his hide's
made of armor plate. But I've got a hunch that if we play dumb at first,
then smarten up slowly, we can make him feel that he's done it for us.
So he'll be easier on us."
"Say, it's after eleven!" exclaimed Tom. "We'd better hurry!"
Suddenly, as if a rocket cruiser were blasting off in the corridors, a
roar, deafening and powerful, filled their ears. And beneath its
ferocity there were four unmistakable words:
"_Polaris unit--staaaaaaaannnnnndddddd toooooo!_"
Every muscle, every bone in their three bodies snapped to rigid
attention simultaneously. Eyes straight, chins in, the cadets waited for
whatever calamity had befallen them. From behind came quick, heavy
footsteps. They drew closer until they passed alongside and then
abruptly stopped.
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