". . ."
Wilhuff Tarkin remained silent, his gaze fixed on the large holographic screen before him, attempting to glean the bigger picture amidst the current chaos. His expression conveyed deep calculation and political savvy.
An experienced officer, Tarkin relied not only on the raw intelligence at hand but also on a combination of years of accumulated experience and a sharp sense of battlefield dynamics. He had already caught a glimpse of Darth Vader's shallow intentions.
He clearly understood that Darth Vader's current decision to withdraw from Scarif had little to do with any heavy losses the fleet had suffered while tangling with the Blood Ravens.
In truth, the minimal damage inflicted was of no great concern to the Galactic Empire at large. Darth Vader was simply preserving his forces for future struggles, striving for an advantageous position.
Beyond that, Tarkin acutely realized that the Blood Ravens' maneuvers went beyond a mere raid; something much more intricate lurked beneath the surface.
Their assault, feint, and resolute retreat proved that the enemy retained a firm grasp on the overall situation. More importantly, it hinted that the Death Star had very likely been infiltrated by enemy agents.
This was a problem that needed a swift resolution; if spies gained access to internal systems, the Death Star's core secrets would be at grave risk.
Moreover, the fall of Scarif also confirmed that the Blood Ravens had secured most of the Empire's crucial blueprints for the Death Star and likely other galactic assets.
Casting a sidelong glance at a nearby officer, Tarkin finally broke the tense silence with an even, commanding voice:
"Notify all posted guards to conduct a thorough search, ensuring there are no 'rats' inside the battle station."
His tone was calm yet unequivocally authoritative. Hearing his order, the staff immediately snapped to attention. They worked at their consoles, pressing buttons that relayed instructions via the communications network.
"Yes, Governor."
The staff member whom Tarkin addressed gave a slight bow in acknowledgment.
Seeing this, Tarkin said no more and turned his attention back to the holographic screen before him.
Swish—swish—
Coincidentally, he watched through the screen as the Devastator and two other Star Destroyers, along with ten other ships, initiated hyperspace jumps, quickly disappearing from Scarif.
That left only two relatively "intact" Star Destroyers and fewer than ten escort and supply ships stationed around the Death Star and Scarif.
While, on paper, the defensive force was only halved, it meant that Darth Vader was taking the true elites of the fleet away.
Hence, the Death Star and Scarif were returning to a state of relative defensive vulnerability.
Despite the potentially volatile situation, Tarkin's expression betrayed no particular alarm.
He was well aware that if Darth Vader genuinely intended to retreat, there was nothing he could do to stop him.
What he couldn't quite fathom, however, was what sort of enemy or power made Darth Vader so insistent on preserving his forces.
After all, with the Death Star under Imperial control, they possessed an ultimate weapon capable of dominating the galaxy. No matter how many troops or warships the Rebel Alliance sent, or how many of those mysterious "giants" (Astartes) appeared, they should not be able to challenge the Empire's might.
Tarkin mulled this over, unable to discern Vader's true intentions, though he knew the Dark Lord's every step was laden with cunning, and any misstep might be disastrous.
He then turned to the staff around him and calmly gave another order:
"Alert every main fleet in the vicinity to head to Scarif immediately. We must prepare for a large-scale conflict, whatever our adversaries do next."
"Yes, Governor."
Without hesitation, the staff relayed the orders from their consoles, transmitting them swiftly up the chain of command.
Tarkin reasoned that whatever caused Vader such caution—even apprehension—likely stemmed from those mysterious giants aiding the rebels.
Through transmitted footage, Tarkin had "witnessed" the giants' combat prowess—virtually immune to harm, wielding staggering strength and speed.
Their firepower far exceeded anything ordinary Shock Troopers could handle. If they amassed a greater force on Scarif, the situation could spiral into chaos.
"Total war?"
Tarkin muttered to himself, an almost imperceptible smile curving his lips. It was as if he deemed all rebel endeavors hopeless anyway.
Scarif, as one of the Empire's strongholds, would never allow any threat to establish a foothold here.
If the menace was not swiftly neutralized, this orbital region would devolve into a quagmire of perpetual battle, devouring everything in its path.
In order to avoid such an outcome, Tarkin moved decisively to call in further warships and troops, determined to overwhelm any adversary with sheer numbers from the outset.
Because the Empire's might was not something easily swayed by a single fleet or a handful of warriors.
Tarkin's faith in the Death Star remained absolute.
This planet-sized station possessed not just planet-killing firepower but a one-shot intimidation factor across an entire star system.
No matter how many unknown giants joined with the rebels—what could they possibly do against such a superweapon?
—
Meanwhile, in a massive docking bay on the "underside" of the Death Star, tension and urgency reigned in a different display of operational chaos.
Far surpassing the Devastator's hangar in scale, this dock was grand, with layered decks arranged in intricate tiers that housed countless TIE fighters, small ships, and other auxiliary craft.
Hundreds of colossal mechanical arms carried out precise tasks, transporting all manner of equipment and ordnance, while thousands of engineers, ground crews, and logistics personnel bustled about, mired in the repair, supply, assembly, and transport of various systems.
The air carried a pungent mix of lubricants, fuel, and metal, accompanied by the roar of machinery, echoing footsteps, and constant intercom orders—forming the "true" background noise within this giant space.
Imperial Shock Troopers patrolled meticulously across the bay.
Unlike the sometimes-lax attitude typical of ordinary patrols, these troops were now vigilant in every step, eyes beneath their helmets brimming with caution.
On receiving urgent orders from above, their routines had changed drastically.
Where once they might have relaxed during a patrol, occasionally stealing a moment's rest, they now methodically investigated each passageway, door, and even random debris on the deck, treating everything as a possible clue.
And it wasn't just the docking bay—this heightened security had spread throughout the Death Star's every compartment.
From the main control room to the flight decks, from munitions storage to warehouses, every inch was now subject to relentless searches.
The Empire's security forces remained ever-alert, determined to prevent any spy from evading them.
While the Death Star's nominal crew size was meant to be in the range of 1.1 to 1.2 million—already a massive number—its maximum capacity could theoretically surpass ten million personnel.
Currently, though, with many systems not yet fully operational and no real need to "fill every corridor," the station had "only" about 1.1 million Imperial forces aboard, ensuring every "square inch" was under tight scrutiny, theoretically making infiltration near-impossible.
Yet for all this severe security, they had no idea that a hidden force was quietly gathering.
Unknown to them, infiltration specialists from the Main Universe Empire's Investigation Department had successfully slipped into the docking bay on the "underside" of the Death Star, all without being detected.
The Main Universe Empire had long excelled at optical camouflage, having "played around" with stealth technology since before its formal founding—refining it to an apex.
Moreover, by assimilating Forerunner technology from the "Halo" universe, their stealth capabilities had become almost flawless.
Clad in nanotech combat suits, these special ops units were rendered invisible once their cloaking systems engaged, leaving no trace in standard vision systems.
Consequently, the Death Star's patrol teams failed to notice this group of elite infiltrators who lurked among them like ghosts.
One particular special ops operative had even perched among the rafters above a deck hatch, silently observing a Shock Trooper patrol. Even so, no one in the trooper detachment spotted him.
With precise intel and adept calculations, he easily tracked the patrol route, gleaning vital information for the upcoming mission.
This remarkable infiltration prowess stemmed not merely from advanced stealth tech but also from exemplary tactical discipline and adaptive skill.
While Gabriel Angelo led a feint, drawing the Death Star and Darth Vader's attention, a formation of Silver Gull transport craft—equipped with stealth modules—had quietly approached the station's underside.
Each Silver Gull carried a cadre of top Investigation Department operatives, including Leon, Lucy, David, a hundred or so special forces troopers, plus a small squad of Blood Raven veterans, not to mention Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus, and K-2SO.
Beyond the main infiltration group, the Blood Raven vets had also attached themselves to the underside, awaiting further orders.
In order to ensure absolute operational secrecy, once the Silver Gulls had completed their deployment, they promptly exited, leaving no trace.
Thus, within the Death Star, the patrols—despite their expanded vigilance—remained unaware that such an elite force was already under their noses.
As for the larger, noisier Blood Raven veterans—
Though skilled in psionics, capable of cloaking illusions to deceive guards, they could not avoid advanced scanners, nor were they as silent as specialized infiltration teams.
Furthermore, the Blood Ravens lacked the more advanced infiltration-type power armor or advanced stealth equipment typical of certain Astartes. Therefore, this contingent of Blood Raven veterans temporarily donned optical camouflage modules and waited outside in the docking bay.
Should the infiltration squads or Investigative operatives be compromised, the Blood Raven veterans would break stealth, drawing the enemy's focus while providing heavy fire support, serving as a crucial pivot for boarding.
Likewise, these veterans would act as a landing zone presence for when their Primarch-led main force arrived, enabling a swifter final stage of boarding assaults.
At present:
"All clear here."
"Understood—moving on to the next sector."
At docking bay's upper deck hatch #36, a patrol unit of five Shock Troopers and a security droid scouted for anomalies. Finding none, they proceeded through the hatch into the corridor, heading for the nearby armory.
Meanwhile, Leon, David, Lucy, Chirrut, and Baze—lurking in the dark—trailed the patrol discreetly.
K-2SO, lacking stealth capabilities, walked on his own a short distance behind the Imperial patrol.
Yet having a solitary K-2SO droid wandering about didn't attract suspicion. In the Empire, security droids frequently patrolled alone.
If one watched K-2SO's glowing electronic eyes carefully, one might notice a certain "spark of personality"—less like a cold, unfeeling tool and more like a being with actual "presence."
Soon enough:
Leon's group followed the patrol into the corridor leading to a dimly lit armory.
K-2SO, as per the plan, strode past the patrol, turning into a supply closet off to one side. There, he abruptly "froze."
?
This action immediately drew the Imperial patrol's attention.
After all, a security droid entering a supply closet and not coming out suggested a possible malfunction.
Hence, the patrol leader ordered two troopers to investigate.
------------------
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