The supercilious super-scientist smirks from the screen. “Jason Quill. And I assume other luminaries of the American young hero cadre. You’re making a nuisance of yourselves. Just let me have the cargo and I’ll show forbearance enough to not destroy your robot friends.”
“My friends are gonna wreck your shit,” Leo boasts. He glances at Jason, realizing he’s missing some important data. “Hey, who is this jerkoff?”
Jason fills in willingly. “Dr. Aleksei Sidorov. Former lieutenant of Achilles Chin. We had a run-in in Moscow last year.”
Leo nods, and turns back to the screen. “You’re stealing cargo from ships and hoping the world concludes it’s the Atlanteans. So that’s your play?”
“Ingenious, isn’t it!” Sidorov gloats. “The paranoid fools in world governments fell for it, as they say, hook, line, and sinker. And while you may tell the world about me, there will be many who don’t want to believe it.”
“You’re threatening a delicate diplomatic situation for personal gain,” Jason scowls. “You have to be stopped.”
Sidorov cackles. “Ah, but at what cost?”
The krakens are slippery opponents, for their sheer size and power. Big Bill has enough raw power to do serious damage to them, if he can grab hold of one - but the others keep swarming him, forcing him onto the defensive.
Mo and Otto can tackle krakens one on one. But there’s still a dozen of the mecha-pirates, and three of the Garage’s boys. There’s even enough krakens for one to attach itself to the hull again, and reach tentacles upward to try and grab hold of the shipping containers on deck.
“Hey, Otto,” Summer calls over the radio. “Think it’s time?”
“Hmmm…” Otto turns this over in his mind, all the while throwing furious punches at the kraken accosting him. “We’re in the safest place for an untested system. Mo, recovery status?”
“100%.”
Otto takes this in, even as a tendril has wrapped itself around his throat. Not that it matters - he doesn’t need to breathe - but the human fear of asphyxiation is still with him, and he fights back with desperate fury. “Yeah. Do it.”
Summer calls back to the base. “Leo, do we have plasma pressure?”
Leo takes a moment from exchanging barbs with Sidorov to check. “Yeah, 105%. We can pick up the Sled any time you’re ready.”
“Nope, we’re not doing that,” she reports. “We’re deploying Apollo.”
On cue, an indicator lights up on the panel. It’s Leo’s to press.
He heard Otto’s assent. And he trusts Summer. He hammers the button.
The Hula Hoop lights up again. The Launch System rotates around, as the big ring spins up to teleport something somewhere. The hangar labeled “Apollo” comes into alignment. And as the portal erupts into existence, the system launches Apollo to its destination.
“Where’s that thing going?” Leo asks.
“The Sun,” Summer answers.
The Chariot launches itself out of the water, and deploys all its drones. Their force screens snap on at maximum power.
“The Hula Hoop is plasma powered. The sun is plasma. Apollo is a smaller backup Hula Hoop, self-powered,” the girl explains, as her own systems are powering up in readiness.
Out in space, almost within the corona of the Solar System’s star, a disk emerges from a portal. In the Base, there’s an unbearable flare of light, just for a moment, before that side of the portal snaps shut.
“Apollo beams solar energy back to my drones. The emitters in the drones send it to me. For about three minutes, I’ve got the strength of the sun.”
“And after three minutes?” Leo asks worriedly.
“The Apollo module burns up and we build another one?” Summer says, hopefully.
Meanwhile, the drones are soaking up the unfettered might of a star, and transmitting it back along the lines of force to the Chariot. Summer sees the readings spiking.
I’d better put some of this to use, before I burn up too.
“Big Bill! Toss em!”
“Will do, miss Summer!” the cowboy jet robot responds.
One by one, as the krakens swarm him, Bill hurls one out of the water with a jet-assisted leap. While it might take him time to tear one apart, Summer does not have that luxury.
The Chariot glows a yellow-orange as the energy transfer beams decollimate to avoid burning out. Summer burns at maximum thrust toward the kraken as it arcs through the air. Shields are at 600% output - velocity is off the charts.
There’s a succession of booms as the Chariot breaks the sound barrier. A solar-powered missile, it tears bodily through the first kraken. Scraps and bits of the broken mecha-pirate fall to the ocean surface.
“Again!” Summer shouts.
“Not so fast!” Sidorov yells in return.
Before Big Bill can grab another of the units, the whole pack swims away from him. The ones Otto and Mo are tangling with also disengage.
One by one, they form a line, head to tail. Magnetic interlocks connect them. What was once a swarm of separate units has become -
“Behold the Magnetic Millipede!” shouts Sidorov.
The combined unit rises - towers, really - over the container ship. Even over Big Bill.
“Wouldn’t that be a decipede, because it has like ten legs instead of a thousand?” Otto asks.
“Stop mocking my accomplishments with pedantry!” Sidorov screams. “Millipede, destroy that rescue vehicle!”
The mega-mecha turns toward the Sled, smashing through a few of the remaining gunboats like they were so much kindling. Already it’s sailing out of range, but it can’t outpace the colossal collection of kraken.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Otto growls.
Summer tries a repeat of her attack - but the sea monster’s powerful magnetic fields send her veering off course, and the creature takes no damage. Though her shell is made of carbon, the fields protecting it are basically electromagnetic. Without them, she’d suffer severe damage on impact.
Mo speaks up. “Yo. Magnets have poles, yeah?”
Otto takes up the thought. “Yeah! The head and tail of the beast should both be magnetized, north and south… How about it, Big Bill? Can you wrestle 'em together? If he does, Summer, think you can make a dent?”
“Sure will!” comes the big jet’s answer.
“I’ll try!” adds Summer.
Otto and Mo launch themselves on rockets, intercepting the Millipede. Although its strong magnetism keeps them from landing a punch, force goes both ways - as long as they keep their rockets going, they can resist the Millipede’s progress.
This is enough time for Big Bill to wade through the ocean, grab hold of the thing’s aft segments, and drag it under the water.
“Rope that bronco!” shouts Otto, jetting down to assist.
“Yeehaw!” Bill echoes.
“Yay,” Mo deadpans.
Summer, meanwhile is checking her gauges. 38 seconds left… “Guys, surface that thing. I have one more clever idea.”
The combined might of Otto, Mo, and Bill pushes the magnetic ouroboros to the surface of the water. The Chariot’s emitters become flooded with solar energy. Trapped as they are, the individual kraken can’t evade the attack. And the magnetic field will only serve to attract the plasma…
Radiance, in the last moments of her power-up, swings a blinding blade of energy lengthwise around the Magnetic Millipede. Sliced open to their cores, the units explode.
Out in space, the Apollo unit gives way to the fiery fury of the sun. The refractory materials held out as long as Summer had calculated, but nothing can draw on such power and survive long. The portal snaps shut, and the Chariot dives into the water to radiate away the remainder of its accumulated heat before the whole unit overloads - or melts.