Cadets' Gambit

[auth note: this is SubSpace fanfiction, Mar'00]

Cadets' Gambit

         It used to be that every generation grew up loaded with enthusiasm, convinced that it would be the generation to turn everything around, to make everything better. Such idealism made possible for humans the respect of alien cultures, the forging of an interstellar federation, and the opportunity for creatures of all races to work in harmony while advancing their personal capabilities. They were generations who shouted, "We'll be the ones!"
         For StarBase-MM, however, it seemed every class grew more introverted. Every new cadet was concerned with getting by and escaping this base. Each living soul in the system was reminded daily that the destructive Borq would return to Federation space, and when they did it would come through this sector. It was a generation which whispered, "We hope we're not the ones."
         For Admiral Angelfire, this was grave news indeed. All his young fleet pilots were worthless. Oh, they were technically competent to be sure. But the only ones who showed any spark of ingenuity were six Academy Camp students, age fifteen. No doubt all their creativity will be drummed out of them by the time they finish the Academy, the Admiral thought. And all the good ones are old and burned out, sitting in admin jobs, like me.
         This morning, slurping on some luke-warm Earl Grey and harboring ill-omened thoughts, the Admiral received the signal dreaded by StarBase-MM personnel for forty years. A brief subspace communication from Campbold Outpost: klaxons blaring and Captain Rambell shouting over them about incoming enemy fighters; three seconds of a viewscreen showing impossible odds; all friendly ships disappearing in balls of flame; and new explosions rocking Campbold Outpost, throwing the bridge members across the room violently. Transmission ended without a hint of good news.
         "Baldur's Gates!" exclaimed Lieutenant Yo, chief engineer, "That was our elite OPS squadron. They must have adapted to our weapons and shield frequencies, and now we have but a tenth of our forces left at home! I recommend we evacuate immediately." There was general if silent agreement around the control center as Angelfire stood in shock. At length he nodded, wondering if he'd live beyond the general panic to be assimilated into the Borq collective.

         No one would settle down in Mrs. Patch's camp class. The kids were in their simulators after the morning lesson on thruster maneuvering in zero-g, but already the rumor was flying that they'd be evacuating soon. Mrs. Patch did the best she could with these kids, every year seeing the interest dim in the eyes of the young. Still, this batch seemed uncommonly hopeful, eager to carry their own weight.
         Mrs. Patch loved her job - the camp kids called her "Mom" - but she was not dumb enough to miss the signs around the starport. Maintenance crews were on 12-hour shifts, and all the local supply depots were being emptied at an alarming rate. None of her superiors bothered her with daily reports, and that guaranteed that something was wrong, very wrong upstairs.
         A cataclysm of lights and sirens broke her from her thoughts. Simulator Four was frozen at a 40-degree angle and all the kids were laughing. Oh no, not again, she thought. Out of Simulator Four climbed little Wellsley Crasher. He was a full head shorter than the other kids, and as such he could barely reach all the simulator controls. As funny as it was to all his classmates, he kept crashing his ship all the time. Either he couldn't reach the gas and smacked a stardock, or he couldn't see out his viewscreen and nosedived into a planet. "Don't worry Wellsley," called out Junior Ensign Yum, "you can always kamikaze the Borq Cube!" Wellsley laughed with them, but for as smart as he was, Mrs. Patch's heart went out to an unlucky boy who could not change his genetics.
         At least they all have mastered the maneuvers in record time, the spaceflight teacher thought. They are brilliant in that, and quite mature to encourage the kid during his misfortune. Their little bodies were actually better equipped to handle the G-forces involved in super-inertia thrusting than the adult bodies out there defending the Outposts. She dismissed them to afternoon break. No doubt they'd go visit the camp's many display ships, from the little shuttlecraft to the medium-sized runabouts to the old but operable fighter. As she gathered her notepad, Mrs. Patch smiled proudly to herself. Her husband had been the last pilot to fly the fighter, a warbird-class named MM-Eagle, before it had been decommissioned due to age and reassigned to just museum duty this space camp.

         "It's not a bad idea Thom, it's the only good idea!" argued Yum. Thom had his doubts about their plan to combat the invading Borq. Even though he supported whatever decision the group made, he felt obligated to point out the deficiencies in their cuckoo quest.
         Junior Ensign Jin had heard his dad on the vidphone, frantically telling his wife to make sure they were on board an Earth-bound capital ship before the end of the week. Jin, Yum, Thom, Danol, Eve, and Wellsley were smart enough to figure out what was up.
         "Everyone's doing nothing but running," continued Yum. "Someone has to take a stand, like they did in the old days when the Borq invaded. Old Captain Baldy didn't run back to Earth, he fought." They had all heard Yum's fire-em-up speech before, but once more it was comforting on their heavy hearts.
         Yum should've been a minister, thought Danol. As soon as he could, he interjected and began to let everyone know what needed to be done. Yum was a motivator, but it was Danol with the talent on getting things organized and done. Besides, he thought, with something to do, everyone will be focused and not worry so much. Only idle minds have time for worry and doubt.
         And so for two days the six were model students. They completed assignments early and asked for more. Their break time was spent studying docking protocols, small-craft weaponry, and curiously the history of events just over 40 years past.

         "Admiral, sir! We have an unauthorized breach of airspace in sector 1.1.5. - two small craft zipped their way past our ground controllers and toward the invading enemy." Lieutenant Yo's report was concise as usual. The enlisted man next to him fidgeted as the Admiral absorbed the information.
         Angelfire prompted Yo to continue with the details that would dependably follow. "And how did these craft get past our security and beyond our ground controls?"
         Yo motioned to the fidgeting fellow who accompanied him, "This is Yeoman Choy, sir. He was the watch officer during the escape." The lieutenant stood quickly back, not wanting to be near in case Angelfire's notoriously precarious temper led to a scathing scolding of everyone around the control center.
         Choy stammered under the withering gaze and bushy eyebrows of StarBase-MM's senior commander. "Admiral, sir, I was on duty showing my son the port clearance protocols. We had just received request for authorization to take off from the two craft when he - well, he caused a disturbance, sir. I ordered the craft clear to go deal with the situation."
         "I see," Angelfire intoned gravely. "Details on the craft and pilots?"
         Lieutenant Yo spoke up, "Both retired craft assigned to the boys' camp at the spaceport, sir. One warbird-class, the MM-Eagle, and one runabout, the MM-Viper. The authorization names were off-duty personnel, but we can surmise that the pilots were actually classmates of Yeoman Choy's son. We're tracking them down now to see which are missing. Logs from the port equipment office show minimal shielding capabilities on both craft, but one old Thor-class photon torpedo installed in deac mode this morning on the runabout. Weapon systems are nonexistent on the runabout, and minimal on the warbird. Conceivable the guns could be activated and charged, but only to level 1 energy bursts in spread pattern."
         Geezus, thought Angelfire. Yo could've been an android with his efficiency. Again his trusted advisor meekly stepped back into obscurity. The admiral peered unnervingly at Yeoman Choy. "Yeoman Choy, just what was the nature of the emergency which caused you to let two retired museum craft piloted by teenagers to go take on an entire Borq Cube?"
         His face ashen, the yeoman spoke in robotic tones, "Sir, my son threw off his jumpsuit and ran down the hall naked, shouting 'Back to nature, back to nature.' Um, sir." Despite the impending doom evidenced on the long-distance X-radar, the entire control room erupted in laughter. Yeoman Choy's face seemed to shrivel in wrinkles of dismay and embarrassment.
         At length the admiral dismissed him. He looked around with a heavy glance, and all mirth ended. A pair of comm officers had to busy themselves to keep straight faces, but the light moment was over. "Hail them," Admiral Angelfire commanded. "I'll be in my ready room." With an obvious growl he stormed into his private chamber before falling on the floor, his knees knocking over a whale statue as he could no longer contain his laughter. "Back to nature, indeed!"

         It was two days before the MM-Eagle would return the StarBase's hail. By then Lieutenant Yo had figured out most of the story. Mrs. Patch and the remaining cadet pilots were assembled with the admiral and Lieutenant Yo in the ready-room. Two of the lads were missing, and the camp kids had been reluctant to talk. After 48 hours of entreaty by Mrs. Patch and tireless exhortation from Yo, they had spilled a few details. The kids thought up a rebellious plan and diverted Yeoman Choy so that the two starcraft could get away. The kids had watched the vids of Old Captain Baldy defeating a detachment of Borq by eliminating their lead link to the hive-mind. "Take the fight to them" seemed to be their intention.
         But Admiral Angelfire knew something was fishy. There were obvious flaws to the plan, despite the ingenuity of the kids to repair and refuel the retired ships. Surely they knew the Borq had defeated the shields and weaponry of the elite OPS units at the Outposts? Surely they knew that the craft, even if they could defeat a few Borq fighters, couldn't warp away due to the Borq anti-warp? Surely they know that their old-style ships would show up clear as day on the powerful Borq radar? Surely they know they need a second person in the warbird to shoot effectively while flying maneuvers? But even separated, still the kids would not divulge their secrets. Angelfire shook his head, despairing at two lives to be lost earlier than necessary.
         "Admiral, MM-Eagle is returning hail," sounded the motherly voice on the intercomm.
         "Put them through," he ordered. "Admiral Angelfire at StarBase-MM speaking. MM-Eagle and MM-Viper identify yourselves."
         "Sir, this is Junior Ensign Danol aboard the Eagle. I have Junior Ensign Wellsley flying in formation with me, Admiral. We're now two hours from contact with the enemy."
         "Son, turn those ships around immediately. You know you're on a suicide mission. Orders here are to make an orderly retreat. What you're doing is brave, but foolish." The admiral sighed inwardly at having to berate the child. We get so little of that eagerness these days, he thought.
         "Admiral, we believe we have a shot at stopping the Borq threat. And if we do, then we're going to take it. These ships weren't going anywhere, so it's not like we're harming your fighting capacity. As for our success or failure, well they're our lives, sir. I speak for all of us when I say that we put this uniform on for a reason. We realize it's only a camp cadet's uniform, but everyone is going through the academy. We all want to be the best we can be. And though others might have given up this situation as hopeless, that only makes us work harder to solve the problem in a new way. Even if we fail here, we may give you some ideas you haven't yet considered might work. We owe it to ourselves to try, and we hope to do so with blessings." The other kids assembled cheered the speech in agreement and resolve.
         It was an uncomfortably long silent moment before Angelfire prodded, "But your plan, Ensign Danol, it has a few holes in it. Your weapon systems can't take out a Borq fighter protected by a modulation shield. They know all our frequency ranges. And your shields can't repel sustained attack by multiple enemies. And you certainly can't stop them all."
         To that Danol just grinned, saluted, and turned off his vidscreen. The intercomm squawked that the signal had ceased transmitting. Angelfire looked around in confusion, seeing calm on the kids' faces and concern on the expressions of Lieutenant Yo and Mrs. Patch. "Sir," Yo stated, "Perhaps the boy has another plan but won't say because he fears the communication could be intercepted." A smile slipped onto Eve's face before she could erase it, and the admiral nodded agreement.
         "What's eating you, Mrs. Patch?"
         She adjusted her glasses nervously, "Well sir, Danol is a fine pilot, one of the best I've seen. But honestly, young Wellsley should be the last choice for pilot in this class. He's too small to reach all the controls at once. His last name is Crasher, and well sir, I hate to admit this but it fits him perfectly."
         "Wellsley can do it, Mom!" Yum exclaimed in a burst of enthusiasm, before the other kids could hush him up. Lieutenant Yo began to interrogate the lad, but Yum made monster faces and pretended to be deaf.
         "I get it," Angelfire said grumpily, "Cat got all your tongues. Frag!" he swore. "I called him Ensign, didn't I?" Lieutenant Yo nodded in amusement. "Space, the kid knows I'm rooting for him. Out! Out!" Admiral Angelfire worked himself into a nice rage and threw everyone out of his ready-room, but it wasn't quite credible to the bright-eyed youngsters. They winked at each other on the way to their temporary quarters.

         The hopeful control crew watched the main viewer. At this range it was barely better than an X-radar screen. Two little yellow blips advanced towards an armada of blue dots led by a larger spot, undoubtedly at least a Borq capital ship, possibly even a Cube. The blue dots began to fan out, cutting off all flanks. At that instant, the yellow friendlies retreated. "Run, boys, run," thought aloud one of the comm officers. Fast as the warbird was, they could not outrace the armada. "They'll be in anti range soon, sir," reported a tech.
         Just in time, the yellow blips vanished. "There!" pointed Lieutenant Yo. "At the capital ship." Two yellow blips were behind the fighters, but also beyond the capital ship. "They missed their warp." The fighters doubled back and swarmed. One ship darted in and out of the swarm like a dancer. "The Danol kid has some moves," Yo murmured appreciately, "but this can't last."
         True to his prediction, the MM-Viper, which couldn't outrun an overloaded spider-class ship, charged straight at the Borq capital ship. "Oh no!" cried Mrs. Patch sadly. "They were kidding, Wellsley!" She could not stop her tears as she watched the tragedy unfold. In a surprise move, the Viper launched a Thor. The loud and outdated weapon's signature was clear, but it was badly aimed, heading instead for a trailing supply ship. The Borq capital ship's shields went up, and the little runabout exploded and winked off the screen.
         A flash of interference jarred the viewer, but after two seconds of static, the image returned. The Eagle was still running away from the enemy, but the pack descended on it. Admiral Angelfire remembered the worst of his training simulations, when eight classmates fought him at once. He imagined the inescapable rain of energy bullets storming on the brave lad, lagged only slightly in time due to the distance. As expected, the yellow blip where the Eagle should have been winked out.
         Angelfire looked around. The crew was grim. Blast! thought the admiral, I didn't need such a morale-sink just before this evacuation. His somber worries ended only when he noted Lieutenant Yo's inquiring stare. Yo was reading the faces of Thom, Jin, Eve, and Yum. They weren't yet remorseful, only - waiting? For what?
         "Ship coming in, sir!" exclaimed Chief Security Officer Allik. "It might be our little idiot boy."
         "Watch your tone, Chief," warned the admiral.
         "Sorry, sir, I mean it might be the Eagle."
         A crackle preceded the transmission, as the comm officer put it straight through to general audio, "StarBase-MM, this is the MM-Eagle, requesting permission to dock." The four classmates whooped with joy, and the comms officer put up the video. Danol's face appeared with a goofy grin. "Success, sir, we nailed them!"
         As elated as they were to see the boy, the crew didn't share his interpretation for the situation. The blue armada was still evident on the sit-map viewer. A new voice came from the Eagle, "I did it, Mom, I got the flagship!" Wellsley struggled to keep his head peering over Danol's shoulder. Mrs. Patch's drying tears turned to a coughing giggle of relief. She didn't understand except that she was happy her kids had made it back.

         The Eagle was landing at the stardock when Chief Allik first noticed the incongruencies on the sit-map. "Admiral, sir, some of the Borq ships are off course." He put the sit-map on the main viewer, and the crew watched in wonder as, although the general swarm steadily advanced, several individual ships were drifting off course. Two actually collided and blinked off the X-radar. "Our telemetry data indicates little to no thruster activity. They're floating dead in the water, Admiral."
         "Maybe," Angelfire considered. "But maybe not. The Borq aren't always subtle, but they could be trying something new on us."
         "It's no act, Admiral," added Danol as he and Wellsley entered the room escorted by dock security. "We got those berks good. All that's left is to mop up!" The little brat beamed in pride.
         "You want to tell us just what happened, son? We saw this little one crash into the Borq capital ship, then the fighters maul you to pieces."
         "No problem, sir. We took off for the enemy and warped into the middle of their command group. We blew up their hive link and warped back here." Danol stopped happily as if that explained everything.
         "How?" demanded Chief Allik. "They have anti-warp technology, and you failed to damage their capital ship noticeably."
         Wellsley's face split into an impossibly wide grin. He was short of stature, but he spoke with intelligent confidence, "Well sirs, we figured the Borq learned from last time they faced us. They can't maintain anti-warp and adjust to our weapon freqs with their shields up. So we guessed that they'd move their comms and control off the main capital ship and onto a totally harmless-looking ship. If it had upgraded shields we might have thought the ship was of some importance."
         Lieutenant Yo jumped in. "But it didn't, and that's why a Thor could take it out. Every other ship probably had deflector-type or repeller-type shields that would make the Thor obsolete. So with the true flagship blown up and the Borq capital ship with shields up, their anti-warp would have been offline."
         Danol nodded, "The timing was tricky, but Wellsley transported himself to my copilot seat, I dropped a decoy, and we warped back here in so close time that the Borq fighter drones received no updated commands. After all my flying around through them, they were content to blast up my decoy. Now they're just flying stupidly toward us. You should be able to send out the cavalry and mop them up. They shouldn't get any new hive commands from their home sector for months, and they're only two days out right now."
         "Right," Lieutenant Yo agreed. "But how did you engage your warp so precisely in a short time, and after having warped into the enemy?"
         The young pilot grinned at Eve flirtaciously. "I simply had the Eagle's navicomputer mark my coordinates before I left local space. So it had a warp beacon of sorts. The further away we went, the navicomputer just automatically updated the return vector for warping."
         Wellsley finished, "I marked the deeper beacon to get to the enemy command group. I warped in first, and then Danol warped to my location. I'm best at the controls, and as long as Danol kept the fighters busy, I didn't have to worry about dodging enemy fire. And once I set course for ramming the capital ship, that bought Danol some breathing room."
         The craft and audacity of the gambit amazed the control crew. The cadet pilots were all put on probation, but they knew it was a good form of punishment. Probation after theft and disobeying orders was tantamount to outright approval of their actions.

         Admiral Angelfire conducted the final debriefings in private. As many of his crew noticed but none commented on, the old man had a new spring in his step and that reliable fire in his eyes. That fire was shining at the six star cadet pilots from Mrs. Patch's class. "I'm glad to see that you've returned some hope to our community. Of course, next time the Borq will know that little trick of yours."
         Jin shrugged, "So we'll come up with something else, sir. No prob."
         The Admiral chuckled. He thought to himself, these are the people who will rebuild my fighter squadrons. Was I ever so cocky? "I remember being that confident once. As a cadet in the academy, I was a hotshot. Then they put me through the gang test. Eight pilots against me. It was doom and a nightmare all in one. I think I was the last cadet to take that test. They ruled it was too hopeless, and bad for the morale of the young pilots coming up through the system."
         "Hopeless?" Danol gaped, "I thought it was fun!"