Ye Mo's fingers were still hovering above the control panel, the cup of coffee long since gone cold. He didn't take a second sip, but simply pushed the cup aside. The waveform on the screen was still flickering, like a snake that wouldn't settle down. He hadn't slept for seventy-two hours, his eyes were dry and sore, but he knew he couldn't relax now.
"Did you hear that?" he asked, his voice not loud, but it made the air in the entire control room tighten.
Star-Lord leaned back in his chair, one earphone on and one not, his earlier teasing tone gone. He stared at the 3D star map projected on the screen, the supply ship in Sector G-7 marked as a glaring red dot, surrounded by a warning circle, like a warning line scrawled by someone with a marker.
"You're saying they're in cahoots?" Star-Lord asked, "A bunch of Kree remnants, plus a new, mysterious force?"
"It's not a 'possibility,' it's already being coordinated." Ye Mo pulled up a timestamp comparison chart, showing two signal waves side by side. "The low-frequency pulse comes from Ronan's old subordinates, and the high-frequency one—it doesn't belong to any known database, but the timing of its appearance each time is exactly within three seconds of the other party's communication being interrupted. This is not a coincidence, it's a relay."
Rocket Raccoon squatted in front of the weapon control panel, tapping the panel with his paws. "So you mean, someone's acting as a middleman? Connecting these purple-faced losers?"
"More accurately, it's technical support." Ye Mo nodded. "Without an external relay station, this cross-frequency synchronization is impossible. They're using someone else's technology chain to transmit intelligence."
Groot stood at the deck dock, his roots slowly probing into the floor cracks to complete the final connection with the external sensor network. He whispered, "I am Groot," meaning: I am ready.
Gamora didn't speak, but her hand remained on the hilt of her sword, her gaze sweeping across the dark sky outside the observation window. She knew that at times like these, the less she said, the better.
Ye Mo took a deep breath, tapped his finger in the air, and switched the main screen to tactical simulation mode. "We can't wait passively any longer. The issue now isn't about defending against a sneak attack, but about predicting their offensive rhythm." He finished speaking and drew three lines of attack. "I propose a 'three-line defense' plan."
Star-Lord sat up a little straighter.
"First line of defense, peripheral sensing." Ye Mo looked at Groot, "Your root system will disguise itself as a natural disturbance and slowly extend to the edge of G-7, focusing on monitoring three locations: the supply ship's hatch, engine exhaust vents, and communication antennas. Once any abnormal vibrations or energy accumulation are detected, immediately trigger the ' Green Sprout ' code."
Groot nodded, and a thin twig swayed gently, indicating that he had received the instruction.
"Second line, mobile jamming." Ye Mo turned to Star-Lord and Rocket, "You pilot the Milano, conducting routine patrols within a 50,000-kilometer radius of the base. Keep your flight path random, but every 45 minutes you must pass through a decoy buoy zone to create the illusion of our daily activities. If the enemy wants to probe our defenses, this will be the decoy."
Star-Lord whistled. "Making me a live target? That sounds exciting."
"Didn't you always say you were the most resilient?" Ye Mo glanced at him. "Besides, even if you got hit, I wouldn't reimburse your spaceship insurance."
Rocket snorted, "If they dare to show their faces, I'll let them taste the new EMP torpedoes."
"On the third line, I'm monitoring all signal changes in real time from the main control console." Ye Mo paused after speaking, "I'm not moving because if I leave here, the entire anti-eavesdropping system will slow down by forty percent. I need to ensure that I can detect any abnormal fluctuations immediately and adjust the deployment accordingly."
Star-Lord glanced at him. "So you're planning to shoulder all the pressure alone?"
"It's not that I'm taking the blame, it's that we're sharing the burden," Ye Mo said calmly. "Everyone doing their part is the best support we can give."
A brief silence fell over the meeting room. No one objected, but no one immediately agreed either.
Rocket spoke first, "The problem is, what if they don't follow the plan? Like, a direct assault? Or some weapon we've never seen before? What good are your plans then?"
This is a real problem.
Ye Mo didn't rush to answer. Instead, he opened the emergency plan list and listed six possible crises one by one: communication interruption, interference with root system sensing, enemy ships suddenly leaping to close range, sudden enhancement of high-frequency signals, patrol routes being cut off, and main system being compromised.
"There are response codes for each situation," he said. "' Green Sprout ' means the root system has been severed, and the backup sensor nodes should be activated immediately; ' Red Dust ' means the main system has been compromised, and everyone should go offline; ' Ashes ' means the enemy is using an unknown weapon, and everyone should immediately retreat to the defensive perimeter, where I will determine whether to counterattack."
Gamora finally spoke, "The code is too complex; it's easy to get confused on the spot."
"Then let's simplify it." Ye Mo quickly modified, "'Bud,' 'dust,' and 'ashes' are three words, monosyllabic, easy to remember. After triggering, I will issue a second confirmation command to avoid misjudgment."
Star-Lord stroked his chin. "That sounds more plausible."
"Just listening isn't enough." Ye Mo stood up. "Let's do a silent deduction."
He turned off the background music, dimmed the lights, and switched the main screen to a dynamic simulation interface. Gamora immediately stood up and disappeared into the shadows of the side corridor, her footsteps as light as a Yezi landing. Star-Lord put on his full headset, placed his hands on the flight control stick, and began demonstrating the evasive trajectory. Rocket went into the weapons bay to check the ammunition charging rate, reporting the status every thirty seconds.
Ye Mo sat in front of the control panel, his eyes fixed on the data stream. He simultaneously recorded the response latency of each node and found that Gamora's average reaction time from stealth to ambush was 1.8 seconds, Star-Lord's ship had a 0.3-second lag in changing direction, and the Rocket's weapon calibration would occasionally have a slight deviation due to heat dissipation fluctuations.
" Gamora, if you shift your angle five degrees to the left, you can avoid the preset scanning blind spot."
" Star-Lord, next time change direction, do it half a second earlier. Don't wait until the alarm goes off before you move."
" Rocket, increase the cooling valve pressure by 0.2 units, otherwise EMP charging will get stuck in the final stage."
The three of them made adjustments one by one.
The second simulation began, and the pace was noticeably smoother. When the simulated enemy ship suddenly jumped to within 30,000 kilometers, Gamora was already lying in ambush at the predetermined position. Star-Lord successfully lured it into a blind spot, and the Rocket's EMP torpedo accurately hit the engine area. At the same time, Ye Mo cut off the false signal source to prevent the enemy from reversing its positioning.
"Okay," Gamora.
Star-Lord took off one earphone. "Much smoother than before."
The Rocket scratched his ear. "Barely passable."
Ye Mo didn't laugh; he knew this was just the beginning. The real battle wouldn't give them a chance to rehearse.
He pulled up the three-dimensional star map again and overlaid everyone's mission routes on it, forming an interwoven defensive network. Combining movement and stillness, and alternating between the real and the illusory, he neither let the enemy see any flaws nor put himself in a passive position.
"The plan is finalized," he said. "From now on, everyone is on silent alert. Except in emergencies, voice communication is prohibited; everything will be based on light signals and codes."
Star-Lord stretched, but stopped joking. He knew this time it wasn't a joke.
Rocket turned and walked towards the weapons control bay, tossing out before leaving, "If a real war breaks out, don't expect me to save your life."
"I didn't expect anything anyway," Ye Mo retorted. "You just need to take care of your own cannon."
Groot's body stood still, but his root system had silently spread out, like an invisible net, stretching into the distant darkness. His branches trembled slightly, transmitting the most subtle spatial fluctuations.
Gamora retreated to the side corridor, her figure completely blending into the shadows, with only one hand remaining firmly on the hilt of her sword, motionless.
Star-Lord locked the docking port on the Milano, keeping the ship in a hot-start state, ready to take off at any moment. He glanced one last time at the control room, said nothing, and nodded.
Ye Mo sat back down at the control panel, his glasses reflecting a faint blue light. His finger hovered above the emergency protocol trigger button, his fingertip only half a centimeter away from the button.
He didn't move.
The entire base fell into an eerie silence. There was no music, no idle chatter, and even the sounds of the machines were minimized. Only the curves on the monitoring screens continued to rise and fall, like breathing, or perhaps a heartbeat.
Time ticked by, second by second.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Ye Mo's gaze swept over each post: Groot's roots had been fully connected to the external sensor array, silently extending to the edge of G-7; Rocket gripped the main control stick, completing the final round of ammunition calibration; Star-Lord was resting with his eyes closed in the cockpit, but his ears were always perked up; Gamora stood by the observation window, her eyes fixed on the void outside, not blinking.
Everyone is waiting.
Waiting for that signal that breaks the silence.
Wait for the enemy hiding in the shadows to reveal their true colors.
Ye Mo looked down at his hands. His knuckles were a little white because he was clenching his fists too tightly. He didn't loosen his grip.
He knew that every second to come could be the prelude to the final battle.
He can't be wrong.
We cannot return it.
The main screen switches to automatic polling mode, retaining only the low-brightness waveform and the dynamic updates of the Groot Perception Network. He turns off all unnecessary light sources to reduce visual interference.
Only the faint hum of the instruments remained in the air.
And there's that low-frequency curve that's still pulsating.
It will come again.
They will wait.
Ye Mo's lips moved, but no sound came out.
Then, he raised his left hand and gently straightened his dirty silver-rimmed glasses.
A pitch-black starry sky was reflected in the lens.