KRENNIC WAS in a rage the entire trip to Eadu. Tarkin had stripped him of control of the Death Star, and worse yet, he’d laid the blame for that at Krennic’s feet!

The idea that it had been his own fault gnawed at Krennic. True, the renegade pilot who’d defected to the Rebellion—a man by the name of Rook, he thought—had done so under his watch, but he couldn’t be expected to keep track of everyone who worked on the Death Star. But according to Tarkin’s jabs, Rook’s betrayal didn’t encompass the full extent of the problem.

Although Krennic had dismissed that idea at first, the more he thought about it, the more he knew it had to be true. After all, how could a single pilot’s treachery cause any potential damage to the Death Star?

But this Rook, he reportedly had information about the Death Star that could be used against it. Krennic had no idea what it could be, but he suspected that Tarkin had been right about the source of it. The problems all had to stem from the base on Eadu.

That made him more furious with Tarkin than ever. It wasn’t enough the man was stealing his triumph; he actually managed to be right about the seeds of his downfall, too!

Krennic didn’t know if it would do him any good personally, but he planned to find the traitors and root them out. Permanently.

By the time his shuttle landed on Eadu, the entire base had been alerted to his arrival. A platoon of the research facility’s best stormtroopers stood on the landing platform, ready to greet him, along with the place’s top Imperial officials.

Krennic let them stand there in the rain for a bit longer than necessary, just to show them who was in charge.

There was no Tarkin present, no Emperor, no Darth Vader. When it came to this facility, he ruled.

He emerged from his ship into the chilly, rainy night, his death troopers alongside him. Galen Erso stood at the front of the group of officials, and he stepped forward to greet Krennic like the old friend he was. None of the others had the spine to manage it.

“Well, Galen,” Krennic said. “The battle station is complete. You must be very proud.”

“Proud as I can be, Krennic.”

Galen didn’t seem that happy, but then he never had smiled all that much. Not since Krennic had been forced to bring him back from Lah’mu. Krennic supposed that losing his wife and child could do that to a man, but Galen had adapted in the best possible way, throwing himself into the challenge of their work and hammering away at it until he succeeded.

“Gather your engineers,” Krennic told Galen. “I have an announcement to make.”

Let them think he’d come to praise them for the effectiveness of the weapons testing he’d overseen at Jedha. That would bring them up faster.

Galen went to relay the order to his underlings. Moments later, his entire team joined them on the platform. Some of the people squinted at the wind and rain as if they hadn’t breathed fresh air in a long time.

“Is that all of them?” Krennic asked.

“Yes,” Galen said, gesturing to the people standing in their white-and-blue jumpsuits.

Krennic stepped before the engineers and gathered them all together beneath his steely glare. There was only one way to deal with the kind of treachery he’d discovered: sheer and utter ruthlessness.

“Gentlemen. One of you betrayed the Empire. One of you conspired with a pilot to send messages to the Rebellion. And I urge that traitor to step forward.”

The sniveling weaklings glanced at each other. None of them wanted to own up to it. Among them, they couldn’t even find one person to pin it on.

Krennic waited longer than he felt necessary. Even in his thirst for justice, he could be charitable, he thought.

“Very well. I’ll consider it a group effort then.”

At his signal, his death troopers raised their weapons. There were no traitors among them, at least. They pointed their rifles straight at the line of engineers.

If that didn’t get them to crack, Krennic believed nothing would. Then he’d be forced to have them all executed. Until now, he might have hesitated to give such an order for fear of destroying a team he very much needed, but with the Death Star operational—and Tarkin having stolen it from him anyway—he didn’t see the harm.

Krennic raised his hand to signal his death troopers to prepare themselves. “Ready…aim…and…”

Just before Krennic brought down his arm and said “fire,” Galen leaped forward to intervene.

“Stop, stop, stop!” he said. “Krennic, stop!”

Krennic did as requested, although his death troopers did not stand down. Galen quickly went on to explain. “It was me! It was me. They have nothing to do with it. Spare them.”

Galen slumped forward, the fight all gone out of him. The man hadn’t even been facing execution, but he was willing to let the full extent of Krennic’s wrath land on him if it would save his people.

He’d always been a fool.

Krennic beckoned for Galen to come toward him, well out of the line of fire. Galen shuffled over, ready to suffer whatever punishment might be handed down to him.

Krennic looked to the engineers again. They were awash with relief that Galen would take the fall for them. They were too surprised—too unsure about what was happening—to thank him for his sacrifice.

Krennic stared at them, despising them all. He said one word. “Fire.”

The death troopers lit up the night with their rifles, and each and every one of the engineers collapsed, dead before they hit the platform.