Sebiscuits felt the ship shudder. Alarms sounded. "The ship is broken!" said the Mayor.
Sebiscuits moved toward the navigator to study the readouts. "The ship is irreparable!" he said. "These static readouts makes that clear."
"Can you fly a base like this?"
"I'm sure I could land what's left of it. But without electronics, this base cannot be flown."
Baby Intelligence nodded. Sebiscuits jumped into the worn-out pilot's chair. "Strap yourselves in."
"Wait!" said Baby Intelligence. "There is something I must do." He rushed over and grabbed the comlink on the platform the controls laid on. He tapped out a message to the police fighters: "Sebiscuits and I have control of the ship. The Mayor is safe. Stop firing."
For Sebiscuits, flying a crippled battle station was like flying a giant rock. Virtually impossible feat. The base had no wings or landing gear. Suddenly, they heard a crunch behind them.
"We lost something!" said Peter. "About half the station, I'd say!"
Great, thought Sebiscuits. Without the back, no rockets are at our disposal. There were only a few steering thrusters that hadn't blacked out, but with their damage anything could happen if he activated them.
And there was no time to experiment. The Wasp had fallen right past the last cloud, a rough two miles above the ground. And yet the friction was heating up what was left of the hull. The room shook and vibrated as more chunks floated away.
From the chair next to Sebiscuits, Baby Intelligence called out information about their hull temperature, altitude, and speed. Sebiscuits's attention was focused on the controls, not Baby Intelligence, but part of him could absorb Peter's words. By luck, by instinct, Sebiscuits flew.
They were a good 3000 feet above the ground, and still moving far too fast. Sebiscuits then extended the hatches and flaps, trading the growing heat from the increased friction for a slower landing.
Sebiscuits glanced at the Mayor, who was clinging grimly to her seat.
As Sebiscuits played the controls, Baby Intelligence spotted fire ships coming from both directions. "I need fire ships on the left and the right!"
Sebiscuits flicked a witch, and the loud voice of one of the pilots filled the room. "Follow us. We'll put out what fire we can."
"Follow you? How?" Peter replied.
"We're hovering near a landing strip."
"Landing strip! Perfect!" said Sebiscuits. Strong enough to land this bucket of robots, and well away from the residential areas so if we miss, we won't crush or set fire to any buildings. "What's our speed?"
"Hang on," said Sebiscuits. "This could get a little rough. We lost our heat shields!"
Too low, too fast, too hot...this isn't a landing, it's a controlled crash! "Landing strip's dead ahead!"
Just then, the fire ships swooped in! They poured jets of water on both ends of the battle station.
Krunk! The ship finally plowed into the landing platform and shuddered to a stop.
"Let's get out of here!" said Sebiscuits, unstrapping himself. Baby Intelligence and the Mayor did the same.
As they headed down towards the door, Sebiscuits noticed something near the door. "I was wrong. There was an emergency craft! How could I be so stupid?"
The shuttle whisked them to the police station, where they dropped off the Mayor. Then they headed back to the MBH, where Baby Intelligence had some news for Sebiscuits. They headed back to the office, and they both sat down.
Uh-oh, Sebiscuits thought with a frown.
"We made a great team," Peter said. "Why not make it official? You were right. Your anger can be controlled. I was wrong. I dub you my sidekick!" It was definitely possible. They could be the greatest team ever!
Meanwhile, Rotta's rocket descended into a remote hole where the NoHeads met, so long as they had no other place to go. Rotta snorted. As if that's possible...
The aircraft landed neatly on a platform next to the coded doorway. A squad of robots were waiting there. As Rotta strode out, the lead robot approached. "Mistress, Mr. Stupid NoHead demands you make contact with him."
Rotta nodded, then rushed to the central room of the smaller, emergency base. She activated the hologram at the other end of the room. Blue light flickered above the hologram transmitter, then formed into a familiar hooded figure. "Yes, NoHead?"
"Rotta Hecks, I suggest we build a new base in Palmyra."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Our victory draws near."
Rotta frowned. "But the loss...of our base?" Does he even realize how much that failed raid cost us?
NoHead sneered. "It is of no concern. Soon I will dub the greatest NoHead of all..."