The Colonel daintily twiddled a diopter. The crescent Moon grew huge in the rifle’s crosshairs, blooming in a square rush of pixels. Now the Moon looked big and cheese-orange, like a rind of fancy pizza from Moscow’s finest Pizza Hut. Machine analysis worked its magic inside the rifle’s optics. The blazing crescent of the Moon toned down, down, and the vast dark plain between the lunar horns emerged in the Colonel’s vision. This was, thought the Colonel with holy awe, the Moon shining gently back at him in light reflected from the Earth.