Lago had achieved a state of perfect clarity. Every muscle in his body was tense and poised, charged with energy and power, ready for action. His mind was a weapon, calculating numbers, angles, simulations, and strategies. When he operated on this level, he knew without doubt that he was superior. It was his ability to separate himself from the tedious, painfully slow machinations of his fellow humans that marked his authority. He summoned Klara with a wave.

“You don’t need any more nanites Lago. You have enough in your body. Taking more could be dangerous.”

He snatched the medical bag from her and started rummaging through. “I am the only one capable of saving this crew, of saving humanity. I need to be razor sharp to win this war.”

He found the bottle and glared at Klara as he drank it down. Then cracked a couple of vials and snorted them both. The voices in his head were becoming louder and more demanding. They didn’t bother him. He knew he wasn’t crazy because the voices were his. An internal commentary justifying his every move. “I know!” he yelled, looking over his shoulder. “I am their leader. I have to save my people! I don’t care what colour they are or what country they come from. They all look the same to me. I don’t believe in any higher power. I am the higher power.”

His entire crew were staring at him. He realised with a shock he had been thinking out loud. Projecting his internal dialogue. He didn’t care. He carried on regardless. “Once we take the Moon we can start again, we can build an orderly, progressive utopian society. We can breed a new generation of humans. Learning from the mistakes of the past. Under my guidance we will prosper, we will evolve. We should be thankful for this opportunity.” Lago’s stream of consciousness wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, when he was in this heightened state of mind, his inspirational monologue could not be stopped.

The shuttle fleet had parked in a stationary orbit on the fifty-kilometre limit that Jejomar had set. Lago looked at Dato. He had his hand over his eyes and was slowly shaking his head. “Dato, status report.”

Dato sighed heavily. “I have sent the two Tobias shuttles ahead, one to the east, and one to the west. The two Russian shuttles will be deployed north and south. We must use our mobility to our advantage. The remaining five shuttles should split into three groups. The Tobias troop carrier with one of the Dong Feng moving north and the Honourable Villain with the other Dong Feng to the south while we stay here and coordinate.”

Lago struggled to pay attention. He wanted to commit everything at once, to overwhelm the enemy. But he forced himself to consider Dato’s advice. Dato’s plans were always accurate and effective but his lack of respect infuriated Lago. He was the voice of common sense. Lago had a profound disdain for common sense. He needed to establish his authority in front of the crew and was about to shout some orders at Dato again when one of the scientists spoke up. Lago recognised his bald head and piercing eye augments. It was the same technician whose shoulders he had crushed.

“We need to make sure we protect our scientists. Our skills and knowledge will be needed if we are to populate the Moon. That should be the priority,” said the bald man. He was standing too close to Lago, nervously staring at the projection.

Lago gave him a scathing look, but the man stayed where he was, anxious to have his concerns heard. “Fuck off back to your seat and keep your opinions to yourself. If you want to live, you follow my instructions. Same goes for the rest of you.” Lago glared at the group of nervous scientists.

As he turned back to the projection, a swarm of Masama drones appeared from the crimson summit of Montes Haemus. They flew out of the glowing crater like a hive of disturbed bees and quickly arranged themselves in a stationary pyramid formation floating above the summit.

“There’s too many to attack all at once. We need to split them up where we can pick them off. Keep them occupied while we try to get the effectors within range,” said Dato.

Lago was still seething that Dato had overruled his plan of all-out attack and he had to take his anger out on something. He was glad to see the enemy drones, he was hungry for battle, he wanted to witness the annihilation of the Masama up close. He craved their destruction, he needed more amphetamine, more nanites. He would destroy the enemy drones with the intensity of his glare. He would crush their mountain with his bare hands.

“Follow your instructions, prepare all the drones and charge all your weapons. Keep all the printers operating at maximum output.” Dato barked into the comms as the shuttle fleet moved into position.

Lago hovered behind Corazon who manipulated the projection. She zoomed in and magnified the Masama drone swarm. The overall view had exquisite detail, showing the entire theatre of battle from the shuttle formation, down to the surface of the Moon. Stark sunlight highlighted every participating piece with no atmosphere to distort the clarity. It was a real time view uncluttered by icons or symbols. Side windows displayed the detail, distances, weapons inventory, and alerts to enemy activity. Lago couldn’t make sense of all the numbers. He tried to concentrate on his four shuttles descending towards the mountain.

“Advancing shuttles, use thirty percent of your missiles. Target the crater of Montes Haemus. Launch your weapon platforms around your shuttle for protection. Are you ready?” Dato shouted into the comms.

Confirmations came back quickly from the shuttle fleet. Dato looked around at Lago who nodded grimly.

“Fire,” said Dato.

Lago watched the missiles cross the fifty-kilometre gap within seconds. He could see the metal glistening in the light and the glowing flares as they raced towards the mountain. The four missile clusters converged from different directions on the summit. Lago surged with adrenalin. This was his element. He was at his best in the heat of battle. Where others would crumble, he thrived. He trusted his instincts. The Masama were a sitting target, they would not be able to withstand his bombardment.

As soon as the missiles were launched the Masama drones dispersed. They moved with alarming speed, diverging in four different directions to intercept. Most of the missiles exploded long before they got close to the drones, but several got through.

“Why are they exploding?” yelled the scientist.

“Shut up,” spat Lago. “Go stand over there and calm down.”

“Must be some kind of beam weapon. It’s not visible with no atmosphere,” said Dato.

The missiles flared briefly, sparkling with harsh incandescence, then faded to nothing. The enemy particle beams became visible as they burned through the vapour clouds and wreckage of the missiles. Their beams dissolved into nothing the further they went like a flashlight in the darkness. It happened so rapidly, and Lago tried to take in all the detail, his brain was functioning at high speed but there were too many screens and too many scrolling numbers.

He watched the few remaining missiles converge on the drone swarm. The drones moved with synchronicity and speed, targeting the approaching missiles with unerring accuracy and sacrificing themselves in flares of short-lived nuclear fire. Brief explosions highlighted the impact points before quickly fading into vapour clouds and tiny flickering shards of debris. Lago finally managed to focus on the numbers. Thirteen missiles had survived the particle beams only to be destroyed by the kamikaze drones. It had taken twenty-six Masama drones, there were still one hundred and seventy-four left in the swarm that flew through the dispersing wreckage towards the closest shuttles.

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

“Weapon platforms target the enemy drones with your railguns,” shouted Dato. “Tobias and Russian shuttles launch fifty of your drones.”

Lago furiously rubbed the scar on his chin. His eyes burned with concentration as the platforms opened fire. The railgun slugs thudded into the oncoming Masama drones. Lumps of iron smashed into the titanium drones at eight thousand kilometres an hour. Too fast to see apart from a brief silver flash like a lightning strike with no air to carry the sound. Lago snarled with satisfaction as the drones were annihilated by the barrage. Railguns were simple weapons he could relate to. Just solid slugs of iron, no explosives but the devastating speed of the slugs would destroy any target. The drones were halted in mid-air by the first impact, the second and third slugs tore straight through them. The reactors inside the drones exploded, creating a brief fireball before they were transformed into a cloud of dispersing debris.

Explosive sparks illuminated Lago’s face as over a hundred enemy drones succumbed to the barrage. The BPI drones flew into the charged space and engaged the enemy with their smaller railguns as more Masama drones appeared from the mountain crater. The scene was bewildering, a chaotic dogfight. Corazon magnified a few individual encounters, but it was happening so fast Lago couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t tell the Masama drones from the BPI drones. He checked the side windows, but the streams of numbers became a blur. His eyes began clouding with a red mist. “Dato,” he barked. “What is going on?”

“Too early to tell but we may be fairly evenly matched. Our railguns seem to be just as effective as their beam weapons. Our drones are matching theirs so far. This war may go on longer than I thought.”

“We have to get closer with the effectors. Disable everything they have then pound them with missiles.” Lago was struggling to focus. His mind was dynamic, he could barely contain his hyperactive brain. He could see the nanites inside him, swimming around in his vision. His mind was expanding beyond the confines of the shuttle. Out into space.

“Our drones are gaining ground,” said Dato. “Look.” He pointed to the scrolling numbers, but Lago could not make sense of them. “We had twice as many, we overwhelmed them. But they must have more. They have more resources,” muttered Dato.

“Send in the Tobias shuttles.”

Dato nodded and ordered the two shuttles to move towards the mountain as the remaining BPI drones fought with the last of the Masama drones. “Prepare your effectors, launch another twenty-five drones each. Vitali, advance your shuttles, launch your drones, cover the Tobias effectors,” Dato barked into the comms.

“Fuck you Lago I did not sign up for this,” came the reply. Hearing his voice snapped Lago back into reality. He was glad to have the two Russian shuttles on his side. Vitali was a pampered rich oligarch, but he knew how to fight. Lago had purposely understated the Masama threat when enlisting their help, telling Vitaly it would be an easy victory. Now they were finding out the truth, but the two Russian shuttles were committed. They followed their orders. The Tobias shuttles approached the mountain from different directions. As they advanced, another swarm of Masama drones appearing from the mountain. This time they just kept coming. Hundreds of them spewing out of the red-rimmed crater. The side window whirled with numbers as the Masama drones entered the fray.

Lago watched with bewildered belligerence as the swarm hurtled towards his shuttles. This was his space now. His expanding ego had claimed it. He owned it. He had to maintain control. The BPI drones escorting the Tobias shuttles attacked with their railguns, but many were picked off by Masama beam weapons. The Masama drones worked together, three or four particle beams picking out an individual BPI drone from different angles. Their beams scribed red triangles through the battle space. The BPI drones managed to inflict some damage with their railguns, but they became hopelessly outnumbered as the shuttles edged closer to the conflict.

“They were waiting for us,” muttered Dato.

It was all happening so fast. Lago was overheating, sweating profusely, and grinding his teeth so intensely his jaw was aching. “More drones!” he yelled. “Platforms. Fire your missiles. Fire everything!”

Dato held his hand up as if to silence Lago which made him even more irate. “We can’t fire everything, that’s what they want. They know we have limited resources; they want us to use all our energy on the first engagements. You have to trust me Lago.” Dato turned back to the comms. “Tobias shuttles, when the drone swarm is within range, use your effectors on them. You will have to wait until they are two kilometres or closer. But keep firing the railguns. Vitali, launch another fifty of your drones. Protect the shuttles. We have to try to get them closer to the mountain.”

If anyone else had treated Lago with such disrespect, they would pay for it. He should be the one barking orders and taking control. In a rare moment of clarity, Lago begrudgingly acknowledged that Dato knew what he was doing. Lago knew the Masama well, but Dato used to be one of them. He knew them better than anyone.

Lago still couldn’t differentiate between the hundreds of spinning drones as he tried to make sense of what was happening, but he could see the shape of the battle. His Tobias shuttles were slowly advancing towards the mountain, protected by the weapon platforms. The shuttles were almost close enough. They began to warm up their effector weapons. Lago watched their internals starting to glow red like a giant bar heater. There were no bullets, no rays of light or satisfying explosions, but a swathe of drones caught in the invisible beam instantly lost power and started spinning aimlessly, scrambled and confused, flying in circles, occasionally smashing into each other, and firing randomly into space. The effector had a wide scope which broadened as it was projected, but its beam would lose potency after only two kilometres. The beam was indiscriminate, frying both Masama and BPI drones.

Lago snarled and clenched his fists. His mind had expanded into space, destroying the drones with the intensity of his glare and the power of his will. Soon large parts of the battle space were full of dead drones, with a few left spinning and firing spasmodically. But there were still formidable numbers of Masama drones that had escaped the beam. They quickly looped back and arranged themselves in a loose formation, out of range of the effectors. The few remaining BPI drones that were still functional also retreated and stationed themselves in front of the advancing shuttles.

“Yes!” exclaimed the bald scientist, almost breathing down Lago’s neck. “They are backing off, we are winning!”

Lago turned and pushed him back. The scientist cried out as he stumbled. “Give me some space or I’ll throw you out the fucking airlock,” Lago hissed.

“We are not winning,” said Dato. “We have only just started, but the effector weapons give us some hope. We should try the new prototype. It’s untested but if it works, we will be able to enslave the Masama drones and turn them against each other. Send them all to attack the mountain.”

“We should have used it already,” said Lago. He was relishing the prospect of corrupting the Masama drones and using them to attack the mountain. This could be the advantage they needed.

“We’ll get another chance,” said Dato. He turned back to the comms. “Shuttles, launch another twenty-five drones each.”

The Masama drone swarm had condensed into two tight arrowhead formations. They swooped around above the advancing shuttles in a tapering arc. “Fuck!” exclaimed Lago as it became obvious what they were intending. They swooped down on the shuttles in a long sweeping kamikaze dive. The BPI drones and weapon platforms re-positioned themselves to defend the shuttles, they began opening fire, shooting directly above. The shuttles started rolling, aiming their effector weapons at the onrushing swarm. For a second there was a blistering exchange of weapons discharge. Beam weapons from above and railgun slugs from below lighting up the space. The shuttles shuddered as they took a number of hits, particle beams burning holes straight through their hulls. Shattered and burning drones from both sides spun away into space and exploded. The shuttles somehow remained operational despite the damage and managed to get their effectors in range just in time.

Both drone swarms were caught in the effector beams, but it was too late. Their momentum could not be stopped as they smashed into the two Tobias shuttles. The swarms ripped through the two shuttles in seconds as multiple warheads exploded on impact, reducing them to unrecognisable shrapnel. The shuttle reactors blew simultaneously, briefly lighting up the darkness and sending bits of twisted metal spinning off into space. The shockwaves washed through the Damned Saint and Lago had to hold on to the hull until the shaking subsided. There was nothing left of his Tobias shuttles.

The surviving platforms and drones regrouped around the two Russian shuttles. Hundreds of demented drones burned themselves out, systems fried by the effectors, spinning aimlessly, and shooting erratically. Dato turned to Lago. He could barely see him through the red mist. “I’ve got an idea,” he said.