Devising a Strategy, Bolstering Defenses

The green light on the tactical board was still flashing, the frequency unchanged. Ye Mo's fingers rested on the edge of the control panel, his fingertips slightly hot, the heat shooting from his palm to his forearm as if an electrical wire was sawing back and forth inside. He didn't move or speak, but simply pushed his glasses up half a centimeter—the lenses were still cracked, and dust had accumulated, but he couldn't care less about that now.

No one spoke in the control room. Star-Lord leaned back in the cockpit, still wearing his headset, his eyes fixed on the star map projection; Rocket lay on the maintenance hatch in the logistics bay, his tail slapping against the metal floor; Groot's branches gleamed faintly, its roots embedded deep in the energy node, motionless; Gamora stood at the outer corridor sentry post, a dagger across her lap, her eyes sharper than a blade.

Eighteen minutes have passed. The fluctuations are still there, increasing by 0.7% per minute—not fast, but frighteningly stable.

"Alright." Ye Mo finally spoke, his voice not loud, but like a stone thrown into water, "I've had my fill."

Star-Lord looked up. "What did you say?"

"If we wait any longer, the enemy will be at our doorstep while we're still guessing how many heads they have." Ye Mo sat up straight and pulled up the data panel. "I just ran through the energy curves of the past twenty-four hours, superimposed with the resonance frequency of the Gene Tower, and the result is the same—this thing isn't coming for an explosion; it's 'walking' towards us."

"Move?" The Rocket poked its head out of the maintenance hatch. "You mean it can walk? Or is it some kind of cosmic square-dancing grandma, approaching while dancing?"

"I mean it's directional, rhythmic, and restrained." Ye Mo tapped the screen. "Look here, the peak interval is thirty-seven seconds, with an error of no more than 0.3 seconds. This isn't random radiation, nor is it equipment leakage, nor is it some idiot forgetting to turn off the toaster. This is a signal, or... something breathing."

Gamora frowned. "So you suggest taking the initiative?"

"No," Ye Mo shook his head, "Quite the opposite. Precisely because it's so predictable, we can't act rashly. What if it's bait? Luring us out, only to have an even bigger one lurking behind us?"

Star-Lord stroked his chin. "So you mean to cower and wait to die?"

"I'm referring to the dual-track contingency plan." Ye Mo his finger, and two modules popped up on the main screen: Plan A was highlighted in red, and Plan B in blue. "Plan A involves remote jamming and decoy release, led by Rocket. We'll launch a few fake signal sources to see if it reacts. Plan B involves a full-level base lockdown, activation of the anti-intrusion system, with Gamora in charge of traps and security, Groot maintaining biological pressure stability, and me coordinating from the center."

The Rocket rolled their eyes. "You just love using these fancy names, like 'Plan A' or 'Plan B', it sounds like a takeout meal."

"Then you can call it 'Teasing First' or 'Coward' if you want," Ye Mo shrugged. "The meaning remains the same anyway."

Star-Lord laughed, "Alright, at least it sounds better than 'Trinity Coordinated Strike' last time."

Gamora didn't laugh, "What if it launches a direct attack? Your decoy is useless, what if our defenses can't hold?"

"Then let's see who can outlast whom." Ye Mo tapped his temple. "The unactivated gene fragment in my body is now in a two-way resonance state. If it moves, I can know it half a second in advance. As long as it hasn't made a move, I'm practically a warning radar. Add to that Groot's biosensors, the Rocket's EMP network, and your minefield, and we're not without options."

Groot nodded, the branch swaying gently. "I am Groot." -- I can hold on.

Rocket sighed and waved his claw, "Fine, fine, I'll go modify two reconnaissance drones, fill them with flares, and paint them the same color as your hoodie, disguising them as stray trash as they drift out."

"Remember to add a self-destruct function," Ye Mo reminded him, "Don't let someone pick it up as a souvenir."

"You think I'm like you? That I can awaken a system just by picking up a piece of junk chip?" Rocket spat, turned and disappeared around the corner, his tail curling up around the toolbox.

Star-Lord stood up and stretched. "Then I'll be in charge of coordinating the communication frequencies to make sure your signals don't clash."

"Wait." Ye Mo suddenly raised his hand. "Don't rush to split up. There's a problem—our communication systems aren't working."

"What do you mean?" Star-Lord stopped what he was doing.

"You're using the interstellar universal frequency band for voice transmission, with an average translation delay of 0.8 seconds. I'm using consciousness synchronization, a direct brain-to-brain connection, which is faster, but you can't receive it." Ye Mo took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. "If a real fight breaks out, and I say 'retreat,' but you hear 'hold on for five more seconds,' then we'll be wiped out."

Gamora narrowed her eyes. "You have a solution?"

"Yes." Ye Mo opened the public channel. "I propose adding an 'emergency short code protocol.' Compress key commands into pulse tones, such as three short 'beeps' for a red level three alarm—all personnel evacuate; two long beeps and one short beep—take cover; one long beep and two short beeps—prepare for a counterattack. No translation, no explanation needed, just execute it upon hearing it."

Star-Lord whistled. "Sounds like old-fashioned Morse code."

"Yes, that's the taste." Ye Mo nodded. "Simple, direct, and undisturbed."

The sound of Rocket came from the logistics compartment, "You go first, let's practice our ears."

Ye Mo didn't waste any words and directly entered the command into the console. The next second, three short "beep-beep-beep" sounds rang in everyone's headphones.

"Red Level 3, evacuate," he explained.

Then came another "beep--beep--beep--", which was a bit longer.

"Two long ones and one short one, for concealment."

In the end, it was one long and two short.

"Prepare for a counterattack."

Star-Lord tried sending a reply, "I'll send 'Stealth'."

The same two long and one short sound came through the headphones.

"Okay, it's working." Ye Mo nodded. "Now let's have a simulation exercise. Assume the alarm is triggered, everyone is in position from the moment the signal is received, and the objective is to be completed within nine seconds."

"Nine seconds?" Rocket sneered. "You think I'm a deliveryman, available whenever I call?"

"If you're slow, I'll put you on the bait list for the next battle." Ye Mo said calmly.

"You're ruthless," Rocket cursed, but had already grabbed his gear and was running back to his post.

An alarm sounds -- but it's not a real alarm; it's a simulated signal.

The moment the first "beep" sounded, Star-Lord sprang from the cockpit and lunged at the control panel; Rocket flipped onto the turret support, simultaneously pressing the charging button with his claws; Gamora slid into cover, sheathing her dagger and placing her hands on the dual pistols at her waist; Groot's branches instantly hardened, his roots tightened, and his bio-electricity surged to combat mode.

Ye Mo sat in the center, his fingers hovering above the control keys, his eyes scanning the time readings.

Seven seconds – everyone in position.

Eight seconds -- weapon lock.

Nine seconds – silent and ready.

"Meets the standard." Ye Mo breathed a sigh of relief. "Keep it this way from now on."

Rocket, panting, slumped back onto the workbench. "Could you use a different code next time? Like 'Dinner' or 'Give me the red envelope'? That sounds nicer."

"After we win, I'll treat you to hot pot." Ye Mo put his glasses back on. "Now, let's get to work."

For the next half hour, the base entered a highly efficient operating mode.

The Rocket was debugging the last electromagnetic gun in the logistics compartment, changing the original continuous charging mode to pulse standby, which saves power and increases speed; Gamora redeployed the induction wires along the outer corridor, changing the scanning frequency from real-time to intermittent, activating once every three seconds, which both maintains vigilance and reduces energy consumption; Groot actively deepened the root system connection, taking on more power buffering functions, and the faint light on the branches was brighter than before.

But here's the problem.

The energy load alarm suddenly illuminates – yellow light.

"Damn it!" the Rocket cursed. "I haven't even fired yet, how come it's overloaded?"

Ye Mo quickly pulled up the energy distribution map and frowned. High-precision detection, biological voltage stabilization, weapon charging, and trap deployment were all operating simultaneously, with the total power already at 97% of its rated limit. If they could hold on a little longer, the system would have to automatically shut down to save its life.

"We need to cut some of it," Star-Lord, looking at the data. "How about we turn off the power to the living quarters first? Nobody's sleeping anyway."

"No." Ye Mo shook his head. "Non-essential modules can be shut down, but air circulation and temperature control cannot be stopped. Five minutes of oxygen deprivation will leave us all lying flat."

He closed his eyes and invoked the "Neural Self-Healing Feedback" module to construct a system load model in his brain. This was not a function for treatment, but rather a way to quickly calculate the optimal energy supply ratio using its high-speed computing power.

Ten seconds later, he opened his eyes. "Got it. Power off the living area's lighting, entertainment system, and kitchen appliances; reduce the detection system's accuracy to 80%; lower the Rocket's turret standby power by 15%; change Gamora's traps to zone rotation, switching to a different area every minute."

"What if I happen to step on an area that isn't open?" Rocket protested.

"Then you deserve it." Ye Mo said calmly, "Who told you to stand in the wrong place?"

"Go to hell--"

"I agree," Gamora interrupted, "That makes sense."

Groot nodded to the branch. "I am Groot." -- I can adapt.

Star-Lord shrugged. "I don't watch TV anyway."

The energy alarm has been turned off, and the yellow light has turned green.

"All done." Ye Mo leaned back in his chair, lightly tapping the control panel with his fingertips. "Now, we're like a bunch of phones in power-saving mode—we can manage, but don't even think about watching videos."

Rocket snorted, "Once this is all over, I'm definitely going to install a nuclear fusion reactor in this crappy base."

"Once you've finished installing it, I'll be the first to use the electricity." Ye Mo smiled, then his expression turned serious. "Next, everyone check your posts. Plan A: Deploy the decoy within two hours; Plan B: Fully activate the defense system within four hours. Keep the short code channel open during this time. Respond immediately to any abnormalities."

The crowd dispersed, each going about their own business.

Ye Mo didn't move. He sat in the center of the control room, his glasses reflecting the cold light of the screen, his fingertips still resting on the edge of the control panel. He closed his eyes and once again entered a state of perception.

This time, he no longer just tracked external fluctuations, but launched a sector scan to investigate all abnormal signals within a 100,000-kilometer radius. Spaceship engines, crew heartbeats, equipment leakage, cosmic background radiation... everything was categorized and archived.

Suddenly, his eyelid twitched.

It's not that the external fluctuations have changed.

It was that fragment of his genes that shook him once again.

This time it was more obvious than before, as if someone had gently tapped a key in his DNA.

He didn't open his eyes, nor did he call out to anyone.

No one would believe you if you told them. You can't exactly point to your arm and say, "My Gene Tower wants to go to work."

He simply took a deep breath, suppressing the unease, then turned on the public channel and whispered, "I'm watching."

The voice was very soft, even a little hoarse.

But the next second, Rocket's response came through the channel. "I'm watching too. Don't think you're the only one pretending to be deep."

Star-Lord shared a screenshot of the updated star map.

Gamora increased the sensitivity of the last trap by another ten percent.

Groot's branches gently touched the ground, as if in response.

No one left their post.

No one raised any questions.

No one asked, "How much longer do we have to wait?"

They simply held their positions, like five nails firmly anchored to this base floating on the edge of the universe.

Ye Mo closed his eyes again and continued scanning. His breathing became extremely slow, his chest almost motionless, with only his fingertips occasionally twitching, recording each fluctuation of energy.

His glasses slipped down half a centimeter, but this time, he still didn't go to fix them.

The cracks are still there, and a layer of dust has accumulated.

But he no longer cared.