GRAND MOFF TARKIN frowned as the Death Star appeared in the sky over Scarif. The rebel fleet had done far more harm to the Star Destroyers than he would have thought possible. Just another example of the incompetence of the managers there, including—especially—Director Krennic.

This would not do.

General Romodi looked at Tarkin from his spot on the bridge. “Sir, shall I begin targeting their fleet?”

It was a fair question, but it showed the same problem in thinking that had allowed the rebels to do so much damage already that day. Tarkin gave the general a shake of his head.

“Lord Vader will handle the fleet. The plans must not be allowed to leave Scarif—at any cost.”

It was then that the general understood exactly what Tarkin meant. While the Death Star certainly could take out the entire rebel fleet, doing so would require time. Every moment that slipped past was another moment something could go wrong—something in the rebels’ favor.

Vader would be there shortly, and he and his personal Star Destroyer should be more than enough to sweep up the remains of the rebel fleet. That would put an end to the sharp end of the Alliance for good.

Meanwhile, Tarkin would put the Death Star to better use by employing it for its stated purpose. He gazed down at Scarif. Such a beautiful place, and he would be among the last to see it.

“You may fire when ready,” he informed Romodi.

The general immediately set to carrying out his world-ending orders.