星球大战第八章(8)
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Tarkin started to say something, hesitated, then nodded in understanding. "How convenient. I leave this matter in your hands, Vader." The Dark Lord bowed slightly, a gesture, which Tarkin acknowledged with perfunctory salute. Then he spun and strode from the room, leaving Motti looking from man to man in confusion. The freighter sat listlessly in the docking hangar of the huge bay. Thirty armed Imperial troopers stood before the lowered man ramp leading into the ship. They snapped to attention when Vader and a Commander approached. Vader halted at the base of the ramp, studying the vessel as an officer and several soldiers came forward. "There was no reply to our repeated signals, sir, so we activated the ramp from outside. We’ve made no contact with anyone aboard either by communicator or in person," the officer reported. "Send your men in," Vader ordered. Turning, the officer relayed to command to a noncom, who barked orders. A number of the heavily armored soldiers made their way up the ramp and entered the outer hold. They advanced with appreciable caution. Inside, two men covered a third as he advanced. Moving in groups of three in this fashion, they rapidly spread through the ship. Corridors rang hollowly under metal-shod feet, and doors slid aside willingly as they were activated. |
