Lago had been through all the stages of anger. Eruptions of pure white fury detonating behind his eyes. Cold hard rage crystallized by the amphetamine coursing through his veins. Infuriation anyone or anything would ever contemplate defying him. Apoplectic delirium on realizing he was not in control after all. Finally, a sullen acceptance of the fact he had nothing left. No empire, no legacy. It had all been taken from him. He scratched his facial scar and pulled at the remains of his ear as he gazed at his home planet. He summoned Klara to his side who knew what he wanted. He cracked another vial, paying no attention to those around him. The amphetamine helped him focus his chaotic brain. His reflection in the window showed a scowling man with wide, unblinking eyes. The weight of the world on his shoulders.

Klara interrupted his dark thoughts. “This is the new batch of nanites.” She held up a small bottle. “I brought them with us from the asteroid. They are the next gen, capable of learning and evolving. As well as eliminating harmful cells they can engineer complex tissues inside you that will grow and mature with you Lago, prolonging your life and protecting you. They will survive for years. These are the last nanites you will ever need.”

Lago took the bottle and studied it. It looked like the same cloudy liquid as before. He uncapped the bottle and drank the whole thing. He could feel the millions of tiny machines spread throughout his body, energising, and empowering him, restoring his confidence. He hadn’t really been listening to Klara. “Do you have more?” he asked.

“You don’t need any more. You have enough in your body. You can’t take any more or your system will be saturated. The nanites are almost sentient. I have developed them to adapt to your specific genetic makeup. They will grow and evolve with you.” Lago studied Klara for a second. She probably knew him better than anyone. She had been his physician for years, but he did not know her at all. Her potions empowered him. Made him feel in control again. He didn’t really care what was in them as long as they worked. They helped him stay focused. He could see the bigger picture without getting distracted by the details. He would win. Of course, he would win. He always won.

Viewed from the bridge of the orbiting shuttle, Earth looked serene, healthy, and peaceful. A green and blue marble glowing with vibrant energy and life. There was no hint of the death, destruction and chaos that must be taking place beneath the cloud cover. The deaths didn’t concern him, and neither did the reports blaming BPI for the elevator disaster. There was little news of the Masama or the replicator sphere that had eaten his asteroid hub then crashed somewhere in Texas. Where, unsurprisingly, it now appeared to be expanding.

“That's it then,” he said to Dato. “The Earth is fucked, no going back.”

“Not necessarily. The focus has been on the clean-up in the Indian ocean, but the Texan National Guard has been mobilized to investigate the sphere,” said Dato.

“What can they do? Shoot at it? The thing eats everything it comes into contact with. Their guns will only feed it.”

“They should work out what it is and hopefully take appropriate measures, most likely a nuclear option.”

“It will eat their nukes, everything they throw at it will just make it grow larger and stronger. You saw how it destroyed my hub. Two or three days and the Earth will be gone.”

Lago and Dato stood behind the pilot looking at the Earth and out into the empty space beyond. Lago brooded, assessing his options, and evaluating his people. Technicians tapped data pads in the background, trying to look busy, security guards sat in plush recliners trying to look unconcerned. There were five shuttles in total. Two Tobias class, two K-star shuttles, and the recently arrived Tobias troop carrier from Earth. The K-star shuttle he had claimed for himself, the Damned Saint, was sleek and luxurious. Everything was covered in red velvet, floor to ceiling decadence with soft lighting accentuating the sensuous curves. It was open plan, no cabins, no privacy for Lago. He was not used to being around so many people, it made him anxious.

Lago raised his voice to Dato, aware he had an audience and determined to prove his point to everyone listening. “I don’t want to abandon Earth, that’s my planet down there, everything I built, my empire, my legacy, all my achievements eaten up in a few days by some mindless replicating machines. I’d opened up access to space, to send my people to the stars, I was engineering the next evolutionary step for mankind. I was the benevolent king of Earth, now everything is gone. I have nothing left but this pathetic collection of shuttles.”

“We could go and help,” offered Dato. “We have been producing drones and weapons with the printers and we have the means to make more. We could go back to Earth and join the fight.”

“We have to go back. We will all die up here,” offered the bald scientist.

“We will all die down there too. Like I said, the Earth is fucked. The plan has not changed. The Masama did this. They destroyed my elevator; they released those evil little machines that destroyed my hub. These are acts of war. They have declared war on humanity, they are trying to destroy mankind. My people! They betrayed me, stole my shuttle and my moon-base, they have taken everything from me. They are mutants, they are not human anymore. We are going to attack them and destroy them. Then we can take over the moon-base. At least we’ll have somewhere to live. It’s the only option.”

“Lago, I don’t think that would be wise, it was a bad idea before and it’s an even worse idea now we are so reduced,” said Dato.

“Fuck your wisdom,” Lago glared at Dato. “We have nothing to lose, we literally have nothing. We can’t go back to Earth so what else are we going to do? Float around here and watch the Earth being eaten? Go and try to populate Mars? Head for Alpha Centauri?”

“Mars might not be such a bad idea,” said Dato but Lago wasn't listening. His mind was swirling with amphetamine fuelled concepts of revenge and responsibility. He had never felt responsible for anyone before. It was a new emotion, having to consider the wellbeing of his crew. They were the future of humanity now. He scowled and shook his head.

“We are going to fight. We have to fight. Fight for our planet, our people, our way of life. Our species is under threat from those traitorous mutants, and we are the last hope for humanity.”

“I thought you said the Earth was fucked,” muttered Dato.

“The Earth is fucked. We are all that’s left, the last hope for humanity. If there is any hope of continuing our species we must fight, and we must win.”

“If we are the last hope of continuing our species, maybe we shouldn’t go and attack the Masama right away.”

“Are you listening to me? We will not be victims. We will not begin this new era of humanity with an act of cowardice. We will destroy the Masama and take back the Moon. We will establish a new home, we will adapt, we will procreate, we will survive.” Lago noticed a female technician staring at him with alarm as he said these words. He raised his voice even more. “It’s our responsibility,” he continued. “The future of humanity is in our hands.”

Lago turned to address his crew who were staring at him with obvious distress. “Listen, all of you!” he shouted. “The plan has not changed. We are going to fight, we are going to win, we have no choice. We can’t go back to Earth. Our hub has gone, we have no home. We can’t just float around in space until we kill each other from boredom. There is no other option but to attack the Moon.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Dato interrupted; “The shuttles have printers that could…”

“Shut up Dato.” Lago had never felt the need to justify himself. He had always been confident every decision he made was the right one, he had never felt the need to question himself and he rarely listened to any advice. He had crushed any fleeting semblance of conscience decades ago with a megalomaniacal belief in his own abilities. He was certain this was the right decision. His entire body burned with a lust for revenge. He would destroy the Masama and establish a new home on the Moon. He would sculpt the colony into a utopian paradise, under his rules, with none of the chaotic distractions of the previous civilisation.

He glared at Dato then turned his abrasive gaze back to the group of technicians and soldiers. “Let me repeat; you don’t have a choice. You will either fight or die. You might die anyway so use that as motivation. You have nothing to lose. We are fighting for our lives and our future, and we will win this war. We have weapons. We have a shuttle full of battle-hardened soldiers. We will print bigger railguns, more missiles, more drones. We will disable them with our effectors and pound them to dust from orbit.”

There was a long silence before Dato spoke. “If by some miracle we win this war, what of the replicators? They must have some form of magnetic attraction to mass objects. If they consume the Earth, they will surely come after the Moon next.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, one battle at a time. We will deal with the replicators when we have to.”

“Excuse me Mr Santos, we are picking up signals of vessels leaving Earth’s atmosphere,” said a technician.

“Show me.”

“Their drive signatures are similar to our K-star shuttles, there are five vessels. I have plotted their trajectories back to their ports of origin. Two departed from the Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan, two from China's Jiuquan Launch Center and one from Boca Chica, Texas.”

Lago regarded her for an awkward few seconds. Unlike the rest of his technicians, she was not bald or male. “What’s your name?”

“Corazon. Their trajectory suggests a geostationary orbit. They have nowhere to go apart from the Prime Mover shuttle from Boca Chica which appears to be heading for Mars.”

Lago watched the screen. “Can we raise them on the comms?”

Corazon opened a channel and connected with the shuttle. After some negotiation, she handed Lago a headset. “Oscar,” he said. “Are you abandoning your home planet for Mars already?” He knew the owner of the Prime Mover shuttle, a wealthy philanthropist who had sold him the thermo-electric generator for the umbilical climber. He was always the smartest person in the room. Lago despised him.

“There have been five mass-extinction events in the fossil record Lago. I have been waiting and preparing for the sixth.” Came the reply.

Lago quickly checked with Corazon whether it was possible to intercept the Prime Mover with his fleet, but the shuttle was already too far away.

“You’re a coward, Oscar; I will come and find you on Mars one day.”

“Looking forward to it Lago.”

He turned back to Dato. “Start plotting an intercept course to the other orbiting shuttles.”

“You know who they are?”

“Yes, of course. They belong to billionaires and oligarchs that have prepped for a doomsday scenario like this. The Earth is doomed, and the fat rats are leaving the sinking ship, although they have nowhere to run.”

It took hours for the fleet to intercept the first two shuttles in orbit. It was an uncomfortable wait. Lago shuffled about nervously, wishing he had some privacy, craving more shabu, despite knowing he already had plenty in his system. He wasn’t antisocial, he told himself. He just didn’t see the point. He didn’t need friends, he just needed people to do what he told them. People were a resource, to be used as he saw fit. Anyway, most people had no idea what they wanted or needed. They didn’t know their own limitations or what they were capable of. He had used people to build his empire but now he had to lead them because the Masama had ruined it all. Those traitorous Masama, his biggest failure. Every time he thought of them, he seethed, and they were never far from his thoughts.

The two Chinese shuttles were gold plated with red stripes, radiating wealth and opulence in the stark sunlight. They were bigger and more aerodynamic than the K-star shuttles, designed with aesthetics in mind rather than operational efficiency. They made the Tobias class shuttles look like floating tin cans.

“Pretentious bastards,” muttered Lago but he was secretly quite impressed with the Chinese shuttles. He recognised them, both shuttles were emblazoned with the name ‘Dong Feng’ in bright red.

“Who are they?” asked Dato.

“Son Tiangong,” said Lago. “His family enslaved an entire race to build their manufacturing empire. They turned their country into the planet’s sweatshop. He used to be my competition, but he couldn’t keep up with my printer tech.”

“You think he can help us?”

“He doesn’t have a choice. Open a channel,” he instructed Corazon. “Son Tiangong, can you hear me? This is Lago Santos.”

There was a long moment of crackling static. “Lago my old friend, sorry about your elevator. Caused quite a splash.”

“What brings you to BPI space? Finally burn too many bridges back home?”

“Oh, just a flight of fancy with my friends. It was getting a little bit chaotic back home so we thought we would spend some time in orbit until things calm down. Is this BPI space Lago? Have you become so self-important you think you can own space?”

“I think you’ll find I own this piece of space, how about I come over and visit? Your shuttles look impressive.”

“Aha, flattery normally always works but alas this is a private party Lago, and you know how complicated those airlock things can be.”

“I must insist, I’m sure I can find a way in.”

“Lago, I too must insist you keep your distance. Please tell your shabby collection of shuttles to back off. My vessels are registered official spaceships of the Chinese National space program. You wouldn’t want to cause a diplomatic incident.”

“There are no laws here, Son. You are surrounded and there is nowhere to run. Enough of the niceties. I know your shuttles are just luxury lifeboats, they have no attack or defence systems. I will blow you out of the sky if I detect your engines heating up. Prepare for boarding.”

While they had been talking, Lago’s fleet of shuttles had been closing in on the two Dong Feng vessels. The K-star shuttles did not have any mid-air docking equipment, but the Tobias shuttles, and the troop carrier had vacuum air bridges that could attach to a vessel in space. Lago instructed his troop carrier to connect. He watched with satisfaction as they closed in on the Dong Feng shuttles like ragged street kids mugging a rich couple in a dark alley.

The troop carrier extended a robotic arm to connect with, and hold onto the first Chinese shuttle, the air bridge bonded with his shuttle, but Son refused to open the airlock door. “Lago! What are you doing? You fucking pirates, leave us alone!”

“Open the door or we will cut our way in and throw you out the airlock.”

There was silence for a few minutes as Lago imagined the turmoil inside the shuttle. Son had no options, he either let the soldiers in or they would force their way in. He wished he could be there; he would have loved to see the expression on Son's face as his soldiers commandeered the shuttle.

“I will let you in, but I have already communicated with Space City. The Chinese Government condemns your actions, this is an act of war and there will be repercussions.”

“Your government has enough to worry about down there, they will probably be glad to be rid of you. Just sit tight, be quiet and don't cause any trouble or we will throw you out the airlock. We need to make a few modifications to your shuttles; they belong to me now.”

Lago could hear the protestations and cries of alarm as his soldiers entered the shuttle and took over. They carried equipment through the airlock, tools, 3D printers and banks of substrate to transform the luxury shuttle into a war machine. Lago was tempted to throw Son and his entourage out the airlock, they were certainly expendable, but the mechanics of the airlock made it difficult. He instructed his soldiers to keep them quiet with brute force if necessary. When they had finished with the first Dong Feng shuttle the troop carrier moved to the next one and repeated the procedure.

The Russian shuttles and their crew proved more resilient, even after one of the Tobias shuttles unloaded a round of railgun slugs across their bows, they refused to slow down and comply. Lago knew the owner of the shuttles, A Russian gangster that had extorted his way into positions of extreme power and wealth.

“Vitali,” he barked into the comms. “I will shoot you out of the sky. Slow down, we need to talk.”

After a long silence came the reply: “Lago Santos, you little troublemaker. You fucked my planet with your stupid elevator. Why are you threatening me?”

“The planet was already fucked Vitali; you are responsible for half of the pollution down there. I need your shuttles and your expertise. You don't have a choice, refuse and I will destroy you.”

Vitali tested Lago’s patience with many questions. He went from antagonistic, to aggrieved silence, then negotiating, then finally agreeing to help. Lago’s hand hovered over the railgun command, but Vitaly eventually conceded. They agreed to share the Moon’s resources once the war was won. It was always dangerous entering into partnerships with Russian gangsters, but Lago was more confident tackling the Masama with allies that were driven by profit and had no sense of restraint. Give these Russians a motive and they would fight to the death. The BPI soldiers commandeered the shuttles and started readying them for war as Lago’s reinforced fleet slowly began heading towards the Moon.