The Earth Defense Council had one solution: Project Teknosam.

“It’s your only chance. Mental has twenty fortress worlds.”

Mental’s biomechanical screamers swarmed. Teknosam didn’t run. He unfolded — spinning, dual-wielding energy shotguns, punching headless kamikazes so hard they exploded backward.

Sam looked at the metallic armature humming in the lab. “Looks like a toaster on steroids.”

“Still got it,” Sam’s voice echoed from external speakers. “Even as a glorified vending machine.”