"Welcome aboard, General. If I didn't know better, I'd say you've started to grow fond of me," chuckled Saladin, as General Malkovich stepped onto the deck of the Aristotle.

  "Believe it or not, I actually have, and I'm actually trying to stop The Powers That Be from getting too jittery and trying to nuke your ass," replied Malkovich.

  "Well, I appreciate the sentiment, as for The Powers That Be as you call them, it's gratifying to be on the receiving end of them being jittery for a change," said Saladin, as the Aristotle got underway and started steaming out into the Mediterranean, shadowed by French and Israeli submarines.

  "May I ask why you decided to use this thing to get to New York instead of using a plane like a normal person?" asked General Malkovich.

  "I went through a lot of trouble to acquire this wonderful toy, General. I'm not passing up the chance for showing off how cool it is," chuckled Saladin.

  "Now that is a sentiment I can appreciate," replied Malkovich with a smirk.

  They walked together back into the ship's superstructure.

  The ice-cold air conditioning blasted across Malkovich's face as they entered the interior.

  "Whew! That's some serious climate control," he remarked.

  "Aaron Zakhrov likes to keep his interiors at optimal conditions for leather," chuckled Saladin.

  "Is this your ship or Zakhrov's?" asked Malkovich.

  "It's Libya's, but Aaron Zakhrov's fondness for black cowhide leather and black paint jobs resonates with me, so I let him just do what he wants," replied Saladin.

  "Yeah, yeah, that kid's a menace," grumbled Malkovich.

  "He's not much of a kid anymore," chuckled Saladin.

  "Oh yeah? He may be 21 now, but he's still a damn kid who has way too many dangerous toys. And instead of throwing a tantrum when you try to say no, he just goes and makes even bigger more dangerous toys," said Malkovich.

  "The same could be said of America in general, wouldn't you agree?" asked Saladin.

  "Touché," replied Malkovich with a small smile.

  "Come, let me show you to your quarters. I believe you will find them quite comfortable," said Saladin, as they headed towards the ship's accommodations.

  ---

  "This a warship or a cruise ship? I've never seen a stateroom like this even on a damn flagship," remarked Malkovich, as he entered his stateroom.

  The stateroom was luxuriously appointed, with a large bed, a sitting area with a sofa and armchairs, a large flat-screen TV, and a desk.

  All decked in sleek black leather of course, and black wood topped with polished glass, and lit by soft white OLED panels.

  "Zakhrov might just single-handedly be the enemy of all cows," chuckled Malkovich, as he sat down on the sofa, the leather creaking softly under his weight.

  "He once remarked that the only things a cow is good for are beef and leather," said Saladin with a chuckle.

  "Well, I suppose there are worse ways to spend a week at sea," said Malkovich, as he picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

  "Indeed. See you at dinner," said Saladin, as he headed out of the stateroom.

  "Wait, Saladin. One more thing," called Malkovich.

  "Yes, General?" asked Saladin, turning back.

  "Why is the ship named after Aristotle?" asked Malkovich.

  "Aaron is the one who named it. I believe ironically, since the ship doesn't exactly embody Aristotle's ideals of moderation," replied Saladin with a chuckle.

  "Yeah, I can see that," said Malkovich with a small smile, as Saladin headed out.

  ---

  Malkovich tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep.

  "This ship is too damn quiet, and too damn comfortable," he muttered to himself, missing the familiar humming of a warship's engines, and the small vibrations and rocking of the hull.

  He got up and went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face.

  Feeling slightly refreshed, he changed into a fresh uniform and headed to the bridge.

  "Ah, General Malkovich, what brings you to the bridge at this hour?" asked Captain Siddig, as Malkovich entered the bridge.

  "Couldn't sleep. The ship is too damn quiet," replied Malkovich, taking in the view of the black Atlantic night through the ship's observation windows.

  "What's our position?" he asked.

  "We just left Gibraltar a few hours ago. We'll be approaching the US eastern seaboard in about 4 days," replied Siddig.

  "4 days? What are we running at?" asked Malkovich.

  "30 knots," replied Siddig.

  "Wait a second. You guys were going a lot slower the last time," said Malkovich.

  "The last time we had a flotilla of Japanese freighters in tow. They could only do 22 knots even with us powering them through tow cables," explained Siddig.

  "Well, at least it's nice to know you guys still obey the laws of physics," chuckled Malkovich.

  "Indeed, General," replied Siddig with a small smile.

  Malkovich stifled a yawn.

  "Well, I suppose I should try to get some sleep," he said, as he headed back to his stateroom.

  ---

  "General Malkovich to the bridge," announced the ship's PA system.

  Malkovich entered the bridge, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  "General, we have some visitors," said Captain Siddig, gesturing to 2 Ticonderoga class cruisers approaching the Aristotle.

  "This is General Malkovich, NATO commander in the Middle East. Aristotle is on a diplomatic mission to New York, we are carrying Premier Saladin and his delegation to the UN," said Malkovich into the radio.

  "Understood, General. You are requested to proceed at 22 knots. The USS Abraham Lincoln Carrier Strike Group will escort you to New York," replied the Ticonderoga's captain.

  "Understood," replied Malkovich.

  The Aristotle slowed to 22 knots, as the Ticonderogas fell in on either side of her.

  "How far out are we?" asked Malkovich.

  "About 200 nautical miles," replied Siddig.

  "I suppose that's close enough for them to pick us up," said Malkovich.

  Saladin entered the bridge.

  "Ah, I see we have some company," he remarked.

  "What did you expect? This thing can outrun pretty much anything short of a nuclear carrier," chuckled Malkovich.

  "How much longer until we reach New York?" asked Saladin.

  "About 9 hours at this speed," replied Siddig.

  "Very well. I'll have my delegation prepare for arrival," said Saladin.

  ---

  A Navy Bell UH-Y1 helicopter approached the Aristotle, and landed on the helipad mounted on the stern.

  A Navy Nuclear Inspection and Safety Detachment disembarked, and was greeted by Saladin and Malkovich.

  "Welcome aboard," greeted Saladin.

  "Yeah, yeah. Out of the way! We need to make sure that this thing is safe," barked the lead inspector, as she picked up a bag of equipment.

  "Friendly," commented Saladin, as Malkovich pinched the bridge of his nose.

  "What's your name, ma'am?" asked Malkovich.

  "Lt. Commander Sarah Thompson, USN," replied the inspector, glaring at Malkovich.

  "Commander, you're in the presence of a superior officer. Show some respect!" barked Malkovich.

  "Yes, sir," replied Thompson, reluctantly.

  "Now follow me. I'll lead you to the missile tubes," said Malkovich, heading towards the ship's forward deck.

  The Navy team followed Malkovich and Saladin, as they headed towards the missile tubes.

  "Ugh! This is going to take forever," grumbled Thompson, as she inspected the VLS silos and confirmed that they were shut and safe.

  "Commander, a word in private please?" asked Malkovich.

  "Fine," replied Thompson, as she followed Malkovich to a quieter part of the deck.

  "What is your major malfunction, Commander? Are you trying to start a damn war?" asked Malkovich.

  "Not at all, General. I'm just doing my job," replied Thompson coolly.

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  "Then what's with the attitude?" asked Malkovich.

  "With all due respect, General, I don't take orders from you. Nor do I have to explain myself," replied Thompson.

  "Fine, carry on Commander," sighed Malkovich, heading back to Saladin.

  "Trouble?" asked Saladin.

  "I'm not sure yet. It could just be an overworked officer, or it could be something more," replied Malkovich.

  "I'll have Siddig keep his eyes open," said Saladin.

  "Good idea," replied Malkovich.

  "Sixty four damn VLS launchers! Sixteen additional tubes for ICBM sized rockets! I've inspected a lot of ships, but this is ridiculous!" grumbled Thompson, as she and her team cleared the last of the missile silos.

  "All right, where's the reactor room?" asked Thompson.

  "You're not getting in there. Have your team check for radiation levels from the outside," replied Saladin.

  "That's not up for discussion Commander. Remember that you're a guest in foreign territory while you're aboard this ship," said Malkovich as Thompson opened her mouth to argue.

  "Fine," she said through gritted teeth.

  Saladin and Malkovich led the Navy team into the ship's superstructure, then down a series of gangways and security doors.

  They finally arrived at reactor room 1.

  "All right, Commander. You can take it from here," said Malkovich, gesturing to the thick steel door.

  Thompson's team set up their equipment outside the door, and began taking radiation readings.

  "This thing even nuclear? I'm picking up mostly heat and background radiation," remarked Thompson.

  "I suppose that means the radiation shielding is working," quipped Saladin, which earned him a glare from Thompson.

  "Next room," said Malkovich, as they headed to reactor room 2.

  They repeated the process at the other three reactor rooms, with Thompson's team taking radiation readings from outside the door.

  "All right, the ship is clear," said Thompson churlishly, as she packed up her equipment.

  ---

  "Aristotle, this is the Abraham Lincoln. You are requested to maintain 12 knots, and proceed to Norfolk pier for secure docking," came the call over the radio.

  "Aristotle acknowledges, maintaining 12 knots and proceeding to Norfolk pier for secure docking," replied Siddig.

  The Aristotle slowed to 12 knots, as the Abraham Lincoln Carrier Strike Group formed up around it in a containment zone.

  At 12 knots, the Aristotle's engines were nearly silent, the sound was mostly the chop of the propellers, and the rushing of water past the hull.

  Soon, the skyline of New York came into view.

  "The UN awaits," remarked Saladin, as he took in the view of the skyscrapers and the Statue of Liberty.

  ---

  The Aristotle slid into Norfolk's harbor in eerie silence. The sky was overcast, and a fog and drizzle had set in, shrouding the massive black ship in a ghostly veil.

  The Navy crews on the docks were tense as they set up a gangway and prepared for Saladin's UN delegation to disembark.

  Saladin himself appeared on deck, his black leather military uniform immaculate despite the damp weather.

  Flanking him were his security detail, handpicked women decked out in their sleek white leather uniforms.

  Alexander Jones, of the United States Secret Service, came up the gangway to greet him.

  "Welcome back to the United States, Mr. Saladin," he said, bowing slightly.

  "Thank you, Mr. Jones. It's good to see you again," replied Saladin, with a small smile.

  "Shall we proceed to the vehicles?" asked Jones.

  "Yes, let's," said Saladin, following Jones down the gangway.

  The convoy of black SUVs and sedans rolled out of the harbor, heading towards the UN headquarters in New York City.

  Despite the light drizzle, the streets were lined with protesters, waving signs and shouting slogans against Saladin and his regime.

  "Enthusiastic reception," remarked Saladin dryly, as rotten vegetables and eggs were hurled at the convoy.

  "It wasn't this bad the last time you were here, sir," said Jones grimly, as NYPD officers, in riot gear, formed a protective cordon around the convoy.

  "Perhaps it's because of the Aristotle," mused Saladin, as the convoy reached the UN headquarters.

  The convoy pulled up to the entrance of the UN building, and Saladin stepped out, flanked by his security detail and Jones.

  ---

  "This meeting is called to order!" announced the UN Secretary-General, banging his gavel.

  He turned to Saladin's direction.

  "Premier Saladin, your opening statements please," he said.

  Saladin stood up, and faced the assembly.

  The tension in the air was thick. Israel's delegation had veins visibly bulging on their foreheads.

  "Thank you, Mr. Secretary-General. I am here to address the concerns raised by various member states regarding the recent actions of my government," began Saladin, his voice calm and measured.

  He paused, letting his words sink in.

  "First, I want to address the issue of the Aristotle. This ship is the new flagship of the Libyan Navy, and it is well within our rights as a sovereign nation to possess such a vessel. Let me also remind this assembly, that nuclear warships are neither new nor unprecedented. Even so-called third world nations like India, who is also not a signatory of the Non-Proliferation Treaty, possess nuclear submarines. The resolution to impose sanctions on Libya for possessing the Aristotle is hypocritical, and ultimately self-defeating as a means of maintaining peace and stability. Let me ask you. How well have those sanctions worked in the past? Even before the formation of the UN, you had the League of Nations impose sanctions on Germany, Italy and Japan, and look how well that worked out. Sanctions only serve to isolate nations, and make them more belligerent. If you want peace, you need to engage with nations, not isolate them," he said, his voice smooth and firm.

  Elijah Edelstein, who was in the Israeli delegation, stood up, his face red with anger.

  "How dare you threaten us with such claims! My people and country did not endure the horrors of the Second World War and the Holocaust, just to have our right to exist threatened by a rabid dog such as yourself!" he shouted.

  Saladin's eyes narrowed.

  "I do not threaten, Mr. Edelstein. If you followed my career, you would know how I operate. More than that, you would have come to realize that I have never scapegoated or blamed others for Libya's problems, even when they clearly were. I've impressed upon my people that we are responsible for our own destiny. Frankly, I don't care what you do, as long as they don't harm Libya's right to self-defense, self-determination, and free trade," he said, his voice icy.

  "You don't exist in a vacuum, Saladin. Your actions have consequences, and you will be held accountable for them! How about you tell this assembly how you've butchered countless innocents in your so-called consolidation of power!" retorted Edelstein.

  Saladin raised an eyebrow.

  "Osirak Jihad, and their ilk, are not innocents, Mr. Edelstein. I merely cleared the nests of vipers that have long held sway over my country," he said.

  "I wasn't talking about that! I'm talking about the massacres you and your regime have carried out against helpless civilian refugees fleeing to your country!" shouted Edelstein.

  Saladin's eyes darkened.

  "I did not achieve a fragile economic stability, and a modicum of peace, only for it to be shattered by the refuse of humanity that are those so-called refugees! If your heart bleeds for them so much, why not take them in yourselves?" he countered.

  "Refuse! You hear that, everyone? He calls refugees refuse! This madman considers human beings refuse, and now has a nuclear warship! This is a threat to all of us!" screamed Edelstein.

  "Mr. Edelstein, calm yourself," interjected the Secretary-General, banging his gavel.

  "Let's cut to the chase. The Aristotle, and its civilian sister-ship the Bach, can bypass any naval blockades you would impose, but that is tedious, and only invites provocation. If you want to avoid that, then lift the sanctions on Libya, and recognize our right to self-defense. In return, Libya will agree to a mutual non-aggression pact with Israel, and we will operate the Aristotle with its transponder beacons on at all times, to allow NATO to track its movement," said Saladin.

  "Those assurances are hollow and meaningless! First, I have it on authority that the Bach is privately owned, and American flagged. Second, the mere existence of the Aristotle is an existential threat to Israel! And third, any non-aggression pact with a madman who calls refugees refuse is worthless!" shouted Edelstein.

  "Those are my terms, while I hope for the best, I'm prepared for the worst. Good day," said Saladin, leaving with his security detail and Jones.

  ---

  "Mr. Saladin, wait!" called out a voice.

  Saladin stopped, and turned around.

  It was a large hulking Russian diplomat, he stopped running to catch his breath.

  "I'm Erik Gorbachev. I have a better deal for you," he said, his voice heavy with a Russian accent.

  Saladin raised an eyebrow.

  "I'm listening," he said.

  "You give us chips and software contracts, and we'll give you titanium, plus we'll sign a mutual defense treaty," said Erik.

  "I see. Why?" asked Saladin.

  Erik gave him a wry smile.

  "Let's just say that we too are kind of sick of NATO and the West's meddling. After all, Russia too has had its share of sanctions," he said.

  "Well, the chips and software are not under my control, if you want those, you'll have to talk to Aaron Zakhrov," said Saladin.

  "Can you arrange that?" asked Erik.

  "I'm going to see him right now, would you like to come along?" asked Saladin.

  "Yes, I would," replied Erik.

  ---

  "This is the guy who built your tech and nuclear industry from the ground up?" asked Erik as he looked in awe at the massive obelisk that was Sirius Software's main HQ building.

  "Indeed. He's quite the visionary," replied Saladin.

  "Where exactly do his loyalties lie Saladin? He's obviously American, but he's happily flouting US laws and sanctions by doing business with you," asked Erik.

  "To himself. He's not beholden to any government or ideology. When I invited him to relocate to Libya, he refused. He told me that America may be his home, but he bows to no one," said Saladin.

  Erik nodded thoughtfully.

  "Such a man is dangerous," he mused.

  "Only if you cross him. Had he been left alone, we probably would never have met. However, circumstances forced him to vertically integrate, and I merely saw an opportunity to ride that wave," said Saladin.

  The convoy passed through the security checkpoint, and drove up to the main entrance.

  "Very impressive," remarked Erik, as they got out of the SUVs.

  "Wait till you see the inside," said Saladin, as they entered the lobby.

  ---

  "Aaron, it's good to see you again," said Saladin, as he shook Aaron's hand.

  "Likewise, Mr. Saladin. And this must be Mr. Gorbachev," said Aaron, extending his hand to Erik.

  "Yes, have we met before?" asked Erik.

  "No, but I've had dealings with your company, Rostov Technologies," replied Aaron.

  Realization dawned on Erik.

  "Ah yes, you're the one who's been buying our titanium," he said.

  "Indeed. Please, have a seat," said Aaron, as they all sat down in his office.

  "Mr. Gorbachev here has a proposal for you," said Saladin.

  Erik nodded, and got to the point.

  "What I'm about to reveal is highly confidential, so I trust you will keep this between us," he said.

  "Of course," replied Aaron.

  Erik pulled out a folder, and slid it across the table to Aaron.

  "Russia is looking to develop a Lunar mining operation. We have the launch facilities, but we're also under a silicon and chip embargo, much like yourself. We need your help to design and build the mining drones, and we'll need your chips and software to run them as well. In return, we'll supply you with titanium, initially it will be low, but once the operation is up and running, we can supply you with all the titanium you need," he said.

  "Great minds think alike," chuckled Aaron, turning his computer monitor towards Erik and Saladin, showing them a 3D model of a lunar mining drone.

  "That's impressive. How far along is the design?" asked Saladin.

  "The design is complete, we can start prototyping as soon as the contracts are signed," replied Aaron.

  "You were planning something similar yourself?" asked Erik, astonished.

  "I was working bottom to up. I'm able to build the drones, but I don't have the capacity to build full-blown launch vehicles, best I can do is small cruise missiles, and SLBMs," replied Aaron.

  Erik threw back his head and laughed.

  "It's so gratifying to do business with a man who is a nation unto himself," he said.

  "That's one way to put it," chuckled Saladin.

  "All right, let's get down to brass tacks. I get that for now, Russia will need their titanium reserves to build the launch vehicles, but what kind of costs and turnaround times are we looking at?" asked Aaron.

  "We'll be looking at a 4-week turnaround time for the mining operation to return 1000 kg of titanium ore," replied Erik.

  "Hmm, not very good. How about we do the processing on Luna and get 1000 kg of pure titanium?" asked Aaron.

  Erik looked surprised.

  "That would mean a full-blown processing plant on Luna. Sure, the lower gravity would help, but we're talking about a massive quantity of energy to run the smelters," he said.

  "That can be solved with liquid metal nuclear reactors. The initial ramping will be longer, but the payoff is we can ship pure titanium back to Earth, which is far more efficient than shipping ore," replied Aaron.

  Erik nodded thoughtfully.

  "Small problem with that. If your US government gets wind of this, they'll start World War 3 in a heartbeat." he said.

  "That's easily solved. Just say that it's a joint partnership between me and you. I'm running the mining operation, you're running the space logistics and launch vehicles. That way, if push comes to shove, you can always say that you're just doing business with a private American citizen," said Aaron.

  "And if they tell you to stop?" asked Erik.

  "They can't. I'm well within my rights to extract and own extraterrestrial resources, as part of their own Space Act. And even if they try to start a war, they've already lost," said Aaron.

  "How so?" asked Erik.

  "Because if they do, then all bets are off. We'll be able to militarize Luna, knock everyone back to the 1920s, and obliterate them with impunity," said Aaron.

  Erik nodded slowly, an evil smirk forming on his lips.

  "All right, I'm in. Let's draw up the contracts," he said.

  ---

  "Well Aaron, you seem to be assembling quite the alliance," chuckled Friedrich, as he sipped beer in the Sirius Software executive lounge.

  "Now, now, Friedrich. We all know why we're here. It's because we've decided to embrace the new civilizing corporate future," said Aaron, with a grin.

  "I suppose it was somewhat inevitable. Each of us are not exactly patriots in the classical sense," Friedrich mused.

  "Hey, I'm the Libyan Premier you know," said Saladin.

  "Semantics, Mr. Saladin. You're remaking Libya in your image. Had it been politically stable, you'd have been an oil magnate or a mercenary contractor," chuckled Aaron.

  "Touché," replied Saladin, with a grin.

  "Well, so much the better. The old-world order was basically what we're doing now, only it was done by a bunch of bankers, diplomats, and aristocrats in advisory capacities. Those younger upstarts were crushed during the world wars, but now, we've learned from their mistakes," said Erik.

  "I'll drink to that," said Friedrich, raising his glass.

  "To the next step in human civilization," said Aaron, raising his glass.

  "To the next step," echoed the others, clinking their glasses together.