Ye Mo stepped into the living area. As soon as the door slid open, Star-Lord sprang up from the table, still clutching an empty can. Rocket was squatting opposite him, tapping a wrench on the edge of the table as a metronome, humming the chorus of some old rock song. Groot sat on a low box in the corner, the branches swaying gently, as if dozing. Gamora stood against the wall, arms crossed, her eyes sweeping over with a hint of "you've finally arrived."
"Hey, the hero has arrived!" Star-Lord tossed the canned food aside, which flew precisely into the recycling bin three meters away. "I thought you were going to do some personal meditation ritual in the cockpit, chanting some mantras before coming down."
Ye Mo didn't reply, but walked straight to the long table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. The metal chair legs scraped against the floor, making short, sharp sounds. He rested his fingers on the edge of the table, his fingertips tapping lightly twice unconsciously, as if confirming something. The vibrations from the end of the warp drive hadn't completely dissipated, but his mind was already racing with another set of thoughts—the debriefing couldn't be delayed any longer.
"A meeting," he said.
Rocket rolled his eyes. "We just caught our breath and we have to start a meeting? My weapon modules haven't even been calibrated yet, and the EMP launcher is stuck for half a second and is throwing a tantrum right now."
"Then let's listen while we fix it." Ye Mo looked up, his gaze sweeping over the four of them in turn. "We won the battle against Ronan, but it wasn't a clean victory. There were three times when our combined attacks were less than a second off, and they all collapsed. I'm not nitpicking, but I need to make it clear—next time, if we're just a second off, there might not be anyone there to save the day."
A moment of silence fell over the room. Star-Lord's previously nonchalant expression softened, and Gamora took a half-step forward, leaning against the table. Groot slowly raised his head, his blade turning towards Ye Mo.
"You mean a second off?" Star-Lord frowned. "I didn't feel any lag when I charged."
"You didn't get stuck. It was the Rocket on your left that was deflected by the Shockwave by 0.7 seconds, causing a delay in the EMP coverage area." Ye Mo took out a pen from his pocket and drew a line on the tactical board spread out on the table. "Then Groot's Ground Shockwave was delayed by 0.5 seconds, and Sister Ka's attack window was completely gone. I'm not blaming anyone; the data speaks for itself."
Rocket's ears twitched. "Huh? I got pushed to the side? Bullshit, I'm more stable than a statue!"
"The load-bearing beam behind you cracked by three centimeters," Ye Mo said calmly. "I was right behind you at the time, and my Spatial Perception made it clear. You didn't feel it because the impact came slowly, and combined with the recoil from when you fired, you thought it was a recoil."
Rocket opened his mouth, then closed it again. He turned to look at his weapon pouch and muttered, "... No wonder the trigger felt off."
"Also," Ye Mo turned to Star-Lord, "Your idea of using music to disrupt Ronan's rhythm was good, but its execution relied too much on on-the-spot judgment. You waited for him to tap the scepter and make a 'drag' before you acted, but that 'drag' was a decoy he deliberately placed, not a signal of energy imbalance. The real imbalance occurred after his third tap, when the frequency dropped slightly by 0.3 Hz. That's when you should have acted."
Star-Lord was stunned. "You can even tell how much the frequency dropped?"
"I can now 'taste' the energy fluctuations." Ye Mo pointed to his temples. "Not through my ears, but because my body remembers that vibration. It's like when you take a sip of wine, you know the alcohol content without looking at the label."
Gamora: "So you were able to catch up with him in the mine because you sensed the spatial ripples of the gem."
"Yes." Ye Mo nodded, "But that's not the point. The point is—we're all fighting our own battles, and no one is truly in sync. When I'm blocking the shield, I don't know if you guys are ready; when you, Star-Lord, are playing music, I don't know if Rocket can keep up with the rhythm. We're like five lone wolves, trying to form a pack, but we can't even bite together."
The room fell silent again. This time, no one objected.
After a few seconds, Rocket scratched his ear. "So what are you planning to do? Create a WeChat group and send out red envelopes to everyone before the battle starts?"
"Create a capability comparison table." Ye Mo picked up a pen and drew a table in the blank space of the tactical board. "Record the skill response time, cooldown blind spot, and output decay curve of each person in each battle. For example, your Rocket has a 1.2-second restart delay after EMP launch, this needs to be marked in red; Groot's Ground Shockwave propagation speed is affected by the ground material, the rock layer is 40% slower than the metal deck, these all need to be quantified."
Groot slowly raised a branch and gently tapped the center of the table.
"You want to ask how you write a report?" Ye Mo looked at him. "You can't speak, but I can sense your movements. Before you activate your ability each time, your body surface will have a 0.5-second bioelectric preheating, which I can detect. From now on, give me a signal before you act, like if a branch trembles slightly twice, and I'll know you're about to move."
Groot nodded, its leaves swaying slightly, as if it were smiling.
Gamora, "It sounds like training new recruits."
"That's true." Ye Mo raised his eyes. "We don't have a command system, no unified tactical protocol, we rely entirely on improvisation. We worked before because the enemy was weak. But against an opponent of Ronan's caliber, one mistake can wipe us out. We need to practice, we need to etch teamwork into our muscle memory."
Star-Lord leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table. "So you want us to become a regular army? Wearing uniforms and shouting slogans every morning?"
"I don't care what you wear," Ye Mo shook his head, "But I hope that next time we fight, I can know where you are and what you're up to with my eyes closed. Free navigation is fine, but you can't just fly around aimlessly. The universe is so vast, and threats can appear at any time; we need to have a plan."
"So you have a plan?" Gamora asked.
" Mobile Outposts." Ye Mo drew a circle on the tactics board. "Using the ship as a base, divide the airspace into areas of responsibility. Set patrol cycles and communication frequencies for each area, and rotate them regularly. There will be no fixed garrison, nor will they be completely left to their own devices. Rocket will be responsible for technical monitoring, Star-Lord will be in charge of external liaison and mobile support, Groot will be responsible for ship defense and environmental awareness, your Sister Ka will be responsible for close-range defense plans, and I will coordinate in the middle, while also being responsible for capability data tracking."
The Rocket whistled. "You really did reserve the 'brain' position for yourself, huh?"
"I'm not trying to take command." Ye Mo put down his pen. "I'm just providing information. Who's best suited for what role is determined by the data. For example, last time Wall Phasing to retrieve the gem, it wasn't that I was showing off, it was just that the ' Regenerative Phasing ' cooldown was just right. Anyone else might have gotten stuck in the wall and couldn't get out."
Star-Lord stared at the tactics board for a long time, then suddenly laughed, "Fine, I'm too lazy to think about where to go next every day anyway. If there's a schedule, at least I'll know when I need to wash my hair."
"Then let's vote." Ye Mo looked around. "Those who agree with the ' Mobile Outposts ' model, raise your hands."
Gamora the first to raise her hand. Groot raised his branch high. Rocket hesitated for two seconds and also raised his claw. Star-Lord shrugged, raising his hand the most exaggeratedly.
"All approved." Ye Mo picked up his pen and wrote "Phase One: Outpost Pilot" at the top of the form, filling in today as the date.
The meeting ended quickly. Star-Lord, wearing headphones, said he needed to check the communications system. Rocket complained about the unreasonable shift schedule, grabbed his toolbox, and headed out. Groot silently got up and followed him. Gamora the last to leave, glancing at Ye Mo before she went. "Will you stay to organize the notes?"
"Um."
She nodded and left.
Ye Mo was the only one left in the room. He didn't move, but continued to draw sketches on the tactical board, marking the junctions of various airspaces, potential ambush zones, and signal blind spots. The pen tip scratched across the paper. Outside the window, the base's lights turned on one by one, reflecting on the glass like scattered silver.
He stopped writing and rubbed his temples. He was still tired, and his ribs felt dull and heavy, like a dull saw was pulling back and forth. But he ignored it. This state actually made him more alert—pain meant he was still alive and could still move.
He looked up at the clock on the wall: 23:17.
The next patrol is at 6 a. m. tomorrow, led by Star-Lord. He has already planned the route and posted it on his task list.
The Rocket's EMP module needed recalibration, so he wrote a note and tucked it under the toolbox.
Groot's bioelectric preheating test is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, along with a Ground Shockwave propagation experiment.
Gamora's melee reaction training schedule has also been prepared, with three sets of sudden dodge simulations added.
He neatly tucked the pages into a folder and placed it on the corner of the table.
Then turn to a new page and begin drawing a larger picture—the draft of the Guardians of the Galaxy's responsible airspace distribution.
The pen tip moves, the lines extend, like weaving a net.
Footsteps could be heard outside, gradually fading into the distance.
The light is still on.
He kept his head down, his pen never stopping.