"Telemetry is coming in from the Sirius Software Lunar Rover. We have confirmed the presence of high-grade Titanium or on the dark side of the Moon," reported the mission control operator.

  "Excellent work! Send the coordinates to the Energia Lunar Launch team, they've been prepping for this moment," said Erik Gorbachev, head of Rostov Systems.

  "Yes sir! Transmitting now," replied the operator.

  Erik retired to his office, and called Aaron on a secure video link.

  "Lunar Rover has just confirmed the presence of high-grade Titanium ore on the dark side of the Moon. We've also surveyed areas for the refining complex and the fuel production facilities," said Erik.

  "Great. We'll be there for the launch of the mining complex payload," said Aaron.

  "All right, I'll see you at the launch site in Vladivostok," said Erik, cutting the call.

  ---

  "Energia Lunar launch in T-minus 10 minutes," the mission control operator announced.

  "Well Erik? Did you ever think you'll see something like this again?" asked Aaron, as he joined Erik at the viewing platform.

  Erik smiled, "Not in my wildest dreams. After the whole fiasco with the Soviet Union collapsing, I thought Roscosmos would be stuck as a taxicab to the ISS, but now, we're back and going to the Moon!" he said, eyes gleaming with excitement.

  "And with my lunar mining complex on board, we'll soon be rolling in Titanium," chuckled Aaron.

  They were soon joined by Hajime Yamamoto, and Friedrich Albrecht.

  "It's a shame Mr. Saladin couldn't be here," said Hajime.

  "Yes, well, he's busy with Libya's education reforms, and prepping facilities for our second launch site," replied Friedrich.

  "Energia Lunar launch in T-minus 5 minutes," the operator announced.

  "All right everyone, this is it. Let's wait," said Erik, as they all turned their attention to the launch pad.

  The massive Energia Lunar rocket stood tall against the clear gray sky, a thick layer of ice covering the surface of its cryogenic fuel tanks and engines.

  This was a far cry from the original Energia of the USSR, or the newly rebuilt Energia Classic that had delivered the survey rover.

  This particular Energia Lunar rocket was a sleek matte black, and towered over 500 meters tall, with a cluster of 16 massive boosters surrounding its core stage.

  The launch pad had been specifically designed to accommodate the rocket, and was situated in a remote area outside Vladivostok.

  The rocket stages had been assembled on the launch pad itself, given its immense size.

  "T-5, ignition system pre start," the operator announced.

  A massive shockwave emanated from the launch pad as the 640 kerosene and LOX engines of the rocket's first stage and 16 boosters ignited.

  "T-0, liftoff!" the operator exclaimed.

  The Russian Tundra ice that surrounded the clearing for the launch pad vaporized as the rocket lifted off the ground. Plumes of smoke, fire, and steam surrounded the launch pad, as the rocket ponderously climbed into the sky.

  "What in God's name did we just unleash?" exclaimed Friedrich, as the ground shook violently.

  "The first step to off-world industry," said Erik, tears in his eyes.

  The rocket continued to ascend, rapidly picking up speed as it climbed higher into the atmosphere.

  "Booster separation," announced the operator.

  The 16 boosters cut off, and broke away from the core stage. They dropped like stones towards the ground, before their engines reignited, and began a controlled descent back to the launch site.

  "Damn! That looks so synchronized!" said Hajime, as the boosters landed back on their recovery launch pads almost simultaneously.

  "Stage 1 separation," announced the operator.

  The first stage cut off, and fell away.

  A plume of white-hot fire blasted out of the second stage as its liquid methane and LOX engines ignited, pushing the rocket out of the atmosphere, and into a high elliptical orbit.

  "Stage 2 separation," announced the operator.

  The second stage cut off, and fired a series of short bursts to get it into a controlled descent back to Earth.

  "Stage 3 ignition, entering Lunar Transfer Orbit," announced the operator.

  The third stage's liquid hydrogen and LOX engines ignited, pushing the spacecraft out of Earth orbit, and towards the Moon.

  "Lunar trajectory confirmed," announced the operator, as the launch team and other crew members cheered and hugged each other.

  "Now, we deal with the calls from everyone else asking what the hell just happened," said Erik, laughing.

  "Oh, yeah, this thing was definitely not subtle, but what would they expect? I'm pretty sure the CIA knew about this?" asked Friedrich.

  "Well, even if they did, what the hell could they do about it? Bomb us? They probably think we just had Chernobyl 2.0" chuckled Erik.

  "Unfortunately, we will need to rebuild the launch pad. That thing basically turned it into mush," said Aaron, gesturing to the massive smoking crater that had been the launch pad.

  "We've got about a month before the lunar orbiter returns with the first batch of titanium. We should have it rebuilt by then," said Erik dismissively.

  "But still, all of this to grab a hundred tonnes of titanium from the Moon? Are we sure we didn't fudge the profit calculations?" asked Hajime.

  Aaron gave a small smirk.

  "This was a one shot to get the reactors, mining robots, and processing equipment to the moon. A more modest launcher will be fine to shuttle the Lunar Orbiter back and forth," he said.

  Erik nodded in agreement.

  "We can use stages 2 through 4 for regular launch missions with 2 or 4 boosters. That's more manageable to just get a fueled up lunar orbiter out, and it can be refueled from the mining site's facilities," he said.

  "Well then, here's to a new era of off-world industry," said Friedrich, popping a bottle of champagne.

  "Cheers!" chorused the others raising their glasses.

  ---

  "What the hell just happened?" asked Daniel, surveying the panicked room in the Pentagon.

  "Russia just launched what can only be called a mega scale rocket to the moon. We're tracking it with the ISS and our own satellites, and that thing is enormous," growled an agent.

  "Is it crewed?" asked another.

  "No damn clue! It's got a big ass heat shield, and is not sending back anything except encrypted telemetry, which we can't break by the way," snarled the first agent.

  "All right, how did we not catch this?" asked Daniel.

  The agents shifted uncomfortably.

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  "It was... disguised as a luxury rocket-themed hotel skyscraper, some billionaire vanity project thing," one of them finally spoke up.

  "How did you mistake a rocket for a hotel?" asked Daniel, his voice soft and dangerous.

  "It was over five hundred meters tall and had a sixty-meter wide base! Which rocket do you know is that big?" shot back another agent.

  Color drained from Daniel's face.

  "All right, it looked like a skyscraper, and it's on the way to the moon. What the hell are they carrying on it?" he asked.

  "We don't know, but a rocket that big can lift over a hundred tonnes of payload to the moon easy," said the analyst.

  "Or a hundred tonnes back. Blast it! They're building a moon base! Get the president on the horn! She needs to know this!" thundered Daniel.

  ---

  Anne Frank-Silverman, the newly elected President of the United States, looked around the Sirius Zone as her convoy made its way to the Sirius Software compound.

  "So, this is what they've all got their panties in twists over," she chuckled wryly, seeing the mixture of sleek glass and concrete office towers, upscale residential homes, avant-garde shops and restaurants, and the vaguely sinister-looking Sirius Software cell towers and fences.

  "You seem to be taking this pretty well," observed her former campaign opponent and now head of her national security council General Gordon Harris.

  "Contrary to my public image, General. I'm not a rabid firebrand like some of my voters or party members," said Anne, leaning back in the plush seat of the limousine.

  "Thank God for that. Working with Mamba was a real pain in the ass," sighed Gordon.

  The convoy approached the Sirius Software compound, and they were vetted and waved inside.

  "OK, I'm genuinely torn. Love the way that uniform looks, hate what it stands for," said Anne as she saw Natasha and Olga approach the limousine.

  The Secret Service agents, quickly coordinated with the Sirius Software security team, and the limousine door was opened.

  "Welcome to Sirius Software Headquarters Madam President," said Natasha politely as Anne stepped out of the limousine.

  "Let's not stand too much on ceremony, I'm here to meet Mr. Aaron Zakhrov," said Anne.

  "Mr. Zakhrov is expecting you, please follow us," said Natasha, gesturing for Anne and her entourage to follow her inside.

  They approached the Sirius Software Portal door, and Natasha took off her glove and placed her hand on the biometric scanner.

  The door hissed open, and they walked into the empty lobby.

  "Oof! This is intense," grumbled Anne as the clip-clopping of Natasha's and Olga's heels echoed through the lobby, making her head throb, and her ears ring.

  "Weren't you a supermodel once?" asked Gordon, surprised by Anne's reaction to the sound of high heels.

  "Yeah, for pro-feminist clothing brands. I had a clause in my contract that I wouldn't wear high heels," replied Anne through gritted teeth.

  "This way ma'am," said Natasha, as the elevator doors opened.

  Anne sighed in relief as they entered the elevator, and Natasha and Olga stood still, ensuring that their heels didn't make any noise in the elevator.

  The elevator ascended to floor 128, and the doors opened to reveal the antechamber outside Aaron's office.

  Anne braced herself as they walked across the black stone floor to Aaron's office door.

  The door hissed open, to reveal Aaron standing next to his massive obsidian black desk.

  "So, what brings the President of the United States to little old me?" asked Aaron, a bemused smile on his face.

  Anne fought down the wave of discomfort from Aaron's presence, and stepped forward.

  "I'm here to cut a deal with you Mr. Zakhrov. Technically, you're a US citizen, but in practice, I have to treat you as a damn head of state," said Anne bluntly.

  Aaron raised an eyebrow, but gestured for her to sit down.

  Anne sat down across from Aaron, with Gordon next to her, while Aaron sat with Natasha by his side.

  "OK, I'm kind of aware of the conflict between you and Monica Goldberg, so here's what I want: Stable law and order, and no more spectacles like that massacre the SZPD pulled right in City Hall Park. What would it take to get me that?" asked Anne.

  "First off, Sirius Software and the Sirius Zone Redevelopment Authority didn't start anything. It's you guys who bussed in a bunch of apes to stir up dissent and break down both law and order, and public trust in the police forces. To me the answer is simple: You don't want massacres in City Hall Park? Don't legitimize anarchy and that ACAB bullshit," said Aaron.

  Anne bristled at Aaron's tone, but composed herself with a deep breath.

  "I can't guarantee that, Mr. Zakhrov, there is a little thing that the US Constitution guarantees, which is the right to freedom of speech and expression," she said.

  "That is based upon the assumption that the populace has the fortitude to exercise that right responsibly. When that populace dissolves into the unwashed masses, that same right becomes a vehicle for anarchy and violent overturning of civilization itself. Contrary to your popular belief, Madam President. Civilization and civilized society are not organic. It is built, often painstakingly by people who believe in a higher order than the simple hunter-gatherer rules. So, if you and your cohorts believe that social justice or whatever else is more important than the foundations that I build, then we are at an impasse," said Aaron.

  "Look, I can't stop people from protesting, but what you can do, is not treat every damn protest like a full-blown insurrection! You got lucky that you and the SZPD were able to prove that those protesters were here illegally, and that the Somali government is too politically unstable to do anything about your execution. But you still had your forces kill innocent people in cold blood! And that, Mr. Zakhrov, is something that I will not tolerate, no matter how much you try to dehumanize them," said Anne.

  "Innocent people? May I remind you Madam President, that those 'innocent people' were armed with knives and crowbars, and were hurling stones at Boston Police precincts. The only reason why they didn't use them on the SZPD, was because of the choppers circling them with cannons pointed at them!" snarled Aaron, tossing the after-action report onto the table between them.

  "But... This wasn't in the report!" blustered Anne, color draining from her face.

  "Well of course it wasn't! The people who report to you don't want you to know the whole truth. Just enough to keep you outraged, and managed by them," scoffed Aaron.

  Anne recovered her composure.

  "All right, Mr. Zakhrov. I get where you're coming from. But this situation isn't stable. I cannot have you turning a chunk of the United States into your own personal fiefdom," she said.

  "I'm afraid that particular ship sailed long ago. Here's what I propose: You make the split official. The Sirius Zone will no longer be under Boston's municipal authority, nor will it be part of Senator Goldberg's, or her allies' constituency. Congressman DuPont will be the only liaison between the SZRA and the United States Government. And you had better make all this clear to that rabble who voted for you, and those vipers who support you," said Aaron.

  "What you're proposing is essentially an independent nation in all but name on US soil!" said Anna through gritted teeth.

  "That's because it already is one, Miss President. You may thank your predecessor's gross incompetence and misguided policies for that," said Aaron.

  Anne rubbed her temples in frustration.

  "Fine. I'll agree to your terms, on one condition: You will not under any circumstances interfere with US federal law enforcement, nor will your SZPD use lethal force against anyone outside the Sirius Zone. The only other alternative, is for me to declare martial law, and turn this into a war zone," she said.

  Gordon placed a hand on her shoulder.

  "I'm afraid I cannot support the latter alternative ma'am, we're talking full-scale warfare on American soil here. Not to mention potential catastrophic nuclear fallout," he said.

  "That's the last of last resorts. I believe that beneath all his contempt for humanity, Mr. Zakhrov is a reasonable man," said Anne.

  "That I am," said Aaron.

  "Then it is settled. No more massacres, and we'll leave you alone," said Anne.

  "Agreed," said Aaron.

  "Onto the next item, what the hell did you and your little friends just send to the moon?" asked Anne.

  "I'm under no obligation to tell you, but suffice to say that it is a purely peaceful and commercial venture," said Aaron.

  "I guess I have no choice but to take your word for that, but be warned, Mr. Zakhrov. There are limits to how much of latitude I'm willing to give you. The United States is still the most powerful country in the world, and I will not hesitate to use that power if you step out of line," said Anne.

  "Of course," said Aaron.

  "Then, I believe that my business here is done. I'll be on my way now," said Anne, standing up.

  ---

  "That was thoroughly unpleasant!" said Anne, as she and General Gordon Harris walked back to their limousine.

  "It wasn't all that bad," said Gordon, as they got into the limousine.

  "I may be a little more moderate than people like Monica Goldberg, General. But I have my limits over how much fascist imagery I can stomach," warned Anne.

  "Aaron Zakhrov isn't fascist. He's more of a connoisseur of certain aesthetics. I don't see that many fascists or Nazis dressing up their women in sleek black leather blazer and skirt combos, or any military hard-ass mandating a minimum instead of maximum heel height," chuckled Gordon.

  "Oh yeah? He's more dangerous than any of you think! That aesthetic he sells is seductive! Especially to young impressionable women! This damn zone is reverting to the 1940s! Just with better clothes and services!" ranted Anne.

  "Hey, he isn't exactly advocating for the reversal of women's lib. Sirius Software actually employs quite a lot of women. Not to mention that DuPont guy whose supposed to be the Sirius Zone government liaison is the largest employer of women in the damn state," said Gordon.

  "Wait a second. Are you telling me that DuPont of DuPont Hospitality is the damn liaison?!" asked Anne, incredulously.

  "Yeah, that's the guy," said Gordon, taken aback.

  "That little weasel tried to push through legislation that walked back the ban on high heel mandates! He had the gall to justify it as an engineering problem and not a health one, based on some bogus study!" snarled Anne.

  "Um, haven't you heard? That study was legit. High heels designed by The Feminine Professional have been OSHA certified for 12-hour wear without adverse foot health effects. Heck, the army has started to roll them out for our female dress uniforms," said Gordon.

  "And you're telling me this now?!" thundered Anne.

  "Hey! The only reason I found out, is because I gotta sign the damn requisition forms," shot back Gordon.

  "Ugh! This is worse than I thought! Well, as long as I'm president, you're not issuing stilettos to army personnel on my watch!" declared Anne.

  "But we-" began Gordon.

  "That's a direct order from your commander-in-chief soldier!" snapped Anne.

  "Yes, ma'am," said Gordon through gritted teeth.

  ---

  "Well General, that was quite illuminating," said Aaron over a secure link.

  "Yeah well, I let slip that the Army is rolling out those new heels of yours, and she went ballistic," grumbled Gordon.

  "Well if you're cancelling the contract, I understand," said Aaron.

  "Hell no! I've been champing at the bit to get my aides strutting in those tech marvels of yours!" said Gordon.

  "Well, you'll still need to hide it from her," chuckled Aaron.

  "That's easily done. She ain't about to run around with a damn measuring tape during a parade," snorted Gordon.

  "All right then General. Let's make sure she sticks to her end of the bargain," said Aaron.

  "And you better stick to yours. I'd rather not have the excitement of you wiping out half a city's worth of people on the hunch that they were domestic terrorists," said Gordon.

  "Then keep those infestations out," said Aaron.

  "Yeah, yeah we will. And even if you get them, just give us a damn call first. We're in charge of Boston, you can pick up whatever crosses into the Sirius Zone," said Gordon.

  "Yes, that I will," said Aaron.