The timing of the explosion was perfect. A half dozen more of the would be rocketeers had been just about to launch. Instead they were flung into the air, their packs exploding or igniting wildly throwing them in all directions. One went off in mid air like a firecracker, raining bits of detritus down over an acre of ocean. The barge wallowed and began to slow, though it was still undercontrol, someone was at the helm and was edging it over towards their would be victim. As soon as they were in jetpack range there was a coordinated abandon ship. Six figures rose on the smoke trails of their jetpacks in a phalanx.

“Some guys,” Jocasta complained, “just don’t know when to take a hint.” She cut the power to the port nacelle by 90 percent and upped the drive as high as it would go. Their port side dropped into the water like a router blade, spraying a wall of foam thirty feet into the air. It crashed into the oncoming attackers, sending every one of them splashing down into the ocean where they could fight to get out of their gear before it dragged them down.

 

“Down, down and drowned, down and drowned and never found,” Jocasta hummed as she brought the power back up. The barge wallowed and stabalized, the enemy boat slowing down and emitting an unhealthy looking plume of black smoke. Where the jet skis had gone she had no idea. Probably decided to spend their hard earned vacation days as far from the barge as possible. Jocasta ease the throttle back and out of the red, correcting their course for the main docks on the edge of the crater ocean. She was soaked from head to toe and red water from the stabbed merc was sloshing around. The white gauzy dress she had been wearing clung to her body leaving little the the imagination. Something wriggled beneath the wet fabric and a dragon fly drone popped up from between her breasts. It shook its wings irritably, making an electronic buzzing sound.

“Hey, take it up with your travel agent sister! I was team hotub,” Jocasta scolded.