(Photo by Pixabay)

Two ships lifted off from the lunar port that evening. It was silent inside them besides the noise of the engines and the electric hum of their controls. Talking was no longer needed on the ships as they were all connected to one another through the neural link that Chester’s drones shared. He was almost out of neural gel now, and it would take the rest of it to secure all the people he needed, but what else could he do? As far as he was concerned, conserving neural gel was pointless now.

“How’s everyone doing?” Chester asked as the violent shaking of lift-off began to ease up.

His drones all affirmed that they were fine. That was first hurdle passed. It was a small miracle considering how many of the drones were strapped to the outside of the two ships. They were set up in groups of three, each one with a neural injector, a small reservoir of neural gel, and a few other tools. Their pressure suits had enough air for what they’d be doing, as well as a small booster pack to help them navigate in space.

“Reaching the first drop point,” the head of lunar security said, monitoring the two ships’ progress from the colony below. “Detach now.”

The first wave of drones obeyed, unhooking themselves from the sides of the ship and moving away towards their intended target: a small satellite just barely visible in the distance. Such a small team would be all but undetectable, even if you knew where to look, so Chester had to trust that they’d be able to make it to their respective destinations.

“Second drop point is coming up,” the head of security said a few minutes later.

As each group left, Chester watched as the planet down below grew closer. It was a slow process, overall. The trip itself would take a couple of days but, like the air supply for his drones pressure suits, that extra time was superfluous. Either his plan worked and was done within the next few hours, or this would be the end to Chester’s running.

It only took half an hour for all of the teams to be off the ships and on their way. It was key that they didn’t hang on too long to the ships since that would impart too much velocity to them and they’d just fly off into space. They needed a stable orbit where they could intercept the satellites, not crash into them.

“We’re coming up on the mass accelerator,” the first team said an hour into the flight. “Interrupting their communications now.”

The drones jammed the satellites communications and then began to broadcast a fake signal to keep the capitol from realizing what was going on.

“We’ve made contact with their hull,” the drone said after a few more minutes.

Chester focused on the drone, seeing through its eyes as the team got to work. The first thing they did was begin setting up a sort of tent around themselves on the side of the mass accelerator. The edges were sealed to make it air tight and then they began cutting into the hull. It took only a short while for the cutting torch to make a breach. The sudden rush of air from inside the ship was contained by the tarp which ballooned outward until it was taught. Now the drones could hear the shouting from inside the satellite but the decrease in pressure meant that their oxygen levels would begin to drop rapidly. Not enough to kill them, but enough to limit their ability to think straight.

The drones kept cutting through the hull, their torches eating up even more of the breathable oxygen and making the crew inside lethargic. Their shouts became quieter and less frequent. A few giggled as the lack of oxygen induced a condition not unlike being drunk. By the time the drones were inside, the three crewmen were almost unconscious, their eyelids fluttering and their speech unintelligible.

Chester watched, waiting for the telltale signs that they had died. The moment the first one stopped struggling for breath, the drones quickly injected him with neural gel before resuscitating him and giving him an oxygen mask, sharing the air in their pressure suits with the crew. With each new drone, Chester learned the codes necessary to operate the mass accelerators.

With each team of drones it was a similar process with similar results. After four tense hours, Chester was in full control of the five mass accelerators around the moon.

“How quickly will the Solar King notice that the mass accelerators are targeting the capitol?” Chester asked.

“I’m not sure,” the head of lunar security replied. “They’d have to be watching the accelerator’s directly since our false signal won’t be updating them on the new positioning. It’s possible they have that secondary layer of security, but if that were the case then they would have likely seen the drones attacking them.”

“Let’s move quickly, then,” Chester said. “Everyone input the targeting coordinates now and fire as soon as you’re in position. Keep firing as long as you can.”

A moment later, the first of the projectiles was launched. Each mass accelerator carried a several dozen rounds of ammunition. After a couple of minutes, each accelerator had fired off their first several rounds.

“We’ll know soon whether or not the Solar King knows what you’re doing,” the head of lunar security said. “If he does, then I’d expect to see energy weapons firing on the accelerators soon. Otherwise, everything will be uneventful until the bombardment reaches the surface.”

“Moving to secondary targets,” the drones said.

The significance of what he was doing began to settle onto Chester. A single shot from a mass accelerator could destroy a small city. With hundreds of shots about to rain down, Chester would turn the bulk of the capitol into ruin. Most of the targets he’d selected were administrative and militaristic since he wanted to leave as much of the infrastructure and populace intact. Some of the royal palace might survive the bombardment, given all the protections it had, but that was getting more and more unlikely with each new shot fired, especially since those defenses were among the first targets fired upon.

Eventually, the mass accelerators ran out of ammunition. Chester let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. It was out of his hands now. The bombardment was on its way.

“We have to report for our morning meeting,” the head of lunar security said, surprising Chester out of the sleep he hadn’t meant to slip into. “The first shots should be landing any minute now.”

“Is everything ready on your end?” Chester asked.

“Of course.”

“Let’s hope it works,” Chester muttered to himself.

Just then, down on the planet’s surface, the first blossom of an explosion lit up.

“We have contact,” one of his drones said as more impacts flashed on the surface.

“Keep me posted,” Chester said. “I want to know if the planetary defenses stop any of our shots.”

On the moon, Chester felt his drones making their way to the administrative offices. With the destruction taking place on the planet, Chester was counting on Dawnstar being distracted and not paying as much attention to his drone on the moon. The port master was the first to arrive and walked through the detector. No lights went off. This wasn’t too surprising to Chester since the port master was wearing one of the helmets the construction crews wore and the inside had been lined to prevent the scanner from detecting the neural gel. Once inside, they removed the helmet and took their usual seat.

Saran Depe, the eyes of the Solar King, was somewhat distracted and didn’t seem to notice the abnormal headgear as she glanced up at the detector and then back down to the desk, her eyes flashing back and forth as though reading something that only she could read.

“Is everything alright?” the port master asked, positioning themselves so that Saran couldn’t look at both them and the doorway at the same time.

“There’s been an attack on the capitol,” Saran replied.

The quartermaster walked in, also wearing a helmet, which he removed as soon as he was passed the scanner. Saran didn’t notice.

“More saboteurs?” the port master asked.

“No,” Saran shook her head, “bombardment from mass accelerators.”

The head of security arrived next, removing his helmet before Saran looked up.

“What’s this about bombardment?” he asked.

“The capitol is under attack,” Saran said.

“Is this colony in any danger?” he asked.

“So far only the capitol has been struck.”

“Has the Solar King sent us any instructions?” the head of lunar security asked.

“No,” Saran replied. “He’s having me help look over trajectories and try to figure out where the bombardment came from.”

“He’s having you try to calculate that?” the head of lunar security asked in shock. “Why not use a targeting array or –

“Most of the arrays were destroyed in the first volley,” Saran cut in, impatience thick in her voice. “Now let me concentrate.”

The three administrators nodded, and got up as if to leave. As they did so, they activated the bio-electric dampeners that were still embedded in the large table from the first time Chester had taken control of the lunar administrators. As Saran slumped forward, the head of bio came in with a freshly mixed batch of neural gel and a neural injector.

“We’re receiving orders to fire on the lunar colony,” the drones in the mass accelerators informed Chester.

“That was quick,” Chester said. “How long can you stall before they realize something’s wrong?”

“The order was sent from the colony, not the capitol,” the drones replied. “Looks like an automated message. Probably tied in directly with Saran’s heart or neural activity.”

That made sense, though it still made Chester wonder if this was the right thing to do after all.

“Too late now,” he told himself.

It took less than a minute to complete the process and reanimate Saran.

As the woman sat up, her eyes blinked out of sync with one another and she rubbed at her forehead as though massaging away a headache.

“Are you all right?” the port master asked.

“My…head…

Saran trailed off as the data flow from the Solar King came back along with the instructions to help calculate the trajectories. Her head was pounding but she pushed through the pain and concentrated.

Chester could feel her pain if he concentrated. He could also see the information the Solar King was sending her. This new batch of neural gel wouldn’t give him control over Saran but it would allow him to listen in, as it were, to the neural connection between her and the Solar King. It wasn’t clear yet if Dawnstar had noticed the blip in Saran’s alertness, but so far it didn’t look as though he was aware of what had happened.

“Multiple connections,” Chester noted as he watched the neural connection. “There’s at least a dozen other drones connected here.”

One of the connections dropped out as the next wave of the bombardments struck. Then another, and another.

“”Looks like we’re hitting all the right places.”

“Who’s there” Saran said, looking up abruptly in shock. “I can hear you!”

Chester stopped talking. It was possible their connection was not as one-way as he had thought.

“No,” her eyes narrowed as she felt at the side of her head, “you’re in here, aren’t you?” She tapped the side of her head.

Instantly her posture shifted and the flow of information over the neural connection changed entirely.

“Hello, Chester,” Dawnstar said through Saran.

There was pain, physical pain, in the voice and Chester thought he could see an echo of coughing coming through.

“Where are you?” Dawnstar asked.

Chester didn’t answer. If this connection really was two-way, then it was possible the Solar King could trace where Chester was and then fire on his position.

“I thought you would leap at the chance to gloat,” Dawnstar went on after a moment. “You’re triumphant at last. My father’s palace is destroyed, my brothers are dead, and I’ll soon be joining them, no doubt.”

Chester knew better than to trust anything Dawnstar said but he did hope this was the truth.

“What’s your plan now?” Dawnstar asked. “Set yourself up as the new Solar King? Do you have some agreement with the fringe?”

Dawnstar grunted and his connection with Saran wavered as another wave of bombardments made planet fall. When the connection stabilized again, the rest of the Solar King’s drones were gone.

“I won’t just roll over and die that easily, you know!” Dawnstar shouted at him. “I’ve ordered strikes against every fringe world! There won’t be anything left for you to rule. Nothing but rubble and corpses.”

He kept going on but Chester stopped focusing on the words, instead tracing the connection back down to the planet. Dawnstar wasn’t doing anything to mask his position so it didn’t take Chester very long to find him. He was buried in the rubble of the throne room. Chester couldn’t get much in the way of detail through the connection but he could tell there was no way Dawnstar would be getting out unless he was dug out. Chester also knew that there were still more shots targeting the royal palace that had yet to arrive.

What would he do once he reach the planet? He had another day to mull that over, but mostly he just wanted to live a quiet life. He had a handful drones on board each ship, not to mention the ones back on the moon if the colony survives. Perhaps he could keep some sort of space-faring operation going. If the Solar King was to be believed then the fringe worlds would likely be depopulated within the next couple of days but the inner worlds would still be populated.

The neural connection between Saran and the Solar King cut off abruptly and the woman slumped in her chair like a marionette who’s strings had been cut. Looking out the ship’s window, Chester could see yet more explosions over where the royal palace was.

“I guess that’s that,” he said. “Bombardment should last another hour or so.”

There was nothing else Chester could do with his connection to Saran now that the Solar King was dead. His drones activated the bio-electric dampener in the table once again and this time Chester let Saran remain deceased. The head of bio picked her up and took her away for processing.

With another day or so before the would be landing, Chester leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He’d been awake and afraid for far too long and all he wanted now was to close his eyes and sleep. The tension he’d felt for so long was finally gone now that no one would be hunting him. It was regrettable, of course, that the fringe worlds were likely about to be destroyed, but that wasn’t his fight. He’d done what he could to postpone it, but in the end there was nothing he could do. At least this way the inner worlds were mostly spared.

With luck, this time he’d be able to stay out of politics and live out the rest of his life in peace. Let the others squabble over the throne. He was done with all of that.

He’d just keep an eye on things. Make sure they didn’t get out of hand again.

Maybe get one of his drones involved, nothing more.

Chester assured himself of that as he finally drifted off into the first peaceful sleep he’d had in years.

The End