Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 173: Exclusion

Chapter 173: Exclusion

To Andre, these students weren’t just raw recruits—they were the future pillars of the military, destined to carry the weight of the armed forces on their shoulders.

Sending them into unnecessary danger for the sake of the Shedd family’s hidden agendas? That was something he couldn’t accept.

Known for his unyielding principles, Andre’s stance drew a frown from Ansel. Andre’s defiance was not something he was used to encountering.

"So, are you saying my arrangement is unreasonable?" Ansel’s voice remained calm, but there was a sharpness beneath the surface, like a blade ready to strike.

"Unreasonable? It’s insane!" Andre’s voice boomed across the training grounds, his words echoing off the cold steel walls. "I’m not letting this slide—I’ll be filing a formal complaint!"

The air around them thickened with tension, the kind that made it feel like things could explode at any second.

Leandro, who had been silently observing the escalating confrontation, chuckled softly before stepping in. His amusement was clear, though it didn’t quite reach his amber eyes.

Clearing his throat, he broke the standoff between the two men.

"I get where you’re coming from, Andre," Leandro said, his voice smooth and persuasive, like a practiced politician. "Normally, we avoid placing interns in dangerous roles. But let’s not overreact here. This planet falls under my command, and we’re mainly focused on hunting space pirates. The Skywalkers handle patrols and searches—it’s not exactly the same distinction between vanguard and reconnaissance teams that you’re used to."

Though Leandro’s tone was mild, Andre wasn’t about to be easily swayed. He had been around long enough to know when someone was sugarcoating the truth.

Andre’s eyes hardened.

"That might be true right now on Demetra," he shot back, his words biting, "but the nature of the vanguard doesn’t change. In real combat situations, the vanguard squads are always the first to engage—and that means they suffer the highest casualties."

Leandro didn’t seem offended. In fact, his smile widened, almost as if he appreciated Andre’s stubborn resolve. "You make a valid point, but you can’t protect them forever. These recruits are exceptionally talented. Whether it’s today or tomorrow, they’ll face danger. Wouldn’t it be better to test their mettle now, under your watch, rather than let them stumble unprepared when real stakes come into play?"

Leandro’s words were logical, even sound—but the way he spoke, combined with his undeniable beauty and aristocratic air, made his presence overwhelming, almost suffocating.

His argument made sense, but Andre wasn’t worried about the training itself. His real concern was the ulterior motive behind these placements.

Andre’s gaze flickered to Ansel, knowing full well that this was more about targeting Lyra than any noble test of skill. Still, suspicion wasn’t enough to act on—it could easily be brushed aside as paranoia.

Ansel, catching Andre’s unease, delivered the final blow with a cold smile. "It’s settled then. If you still disagree, feel free to file that complaint."

The challenge in his tone was clear. He knew any such complaint would be stonewalled by the higher-ups, who were either in the pocket of the Shedd family or too indifferent to intervene.

Ansel had already laid out his reasoning: the interns would be "prioritized for safety."

It sounded like a legitimate assurance, but Andre knew better. In the chaos of battle, especially in a vanguard squad, safety was never guaranteed. When things got real, they would be on their own—and that polite promise of avoiding danger would mean nothing.

Later, as Andre stared at the military department’s rejection of his formal complaint, frustration boiled inside him.

Bureaucracy was nothing more than a shield for these spineless officials, playing politics while real people’s lives hung in the balance. But Andre couldn’t let his anger show in front of the students. For their sake, he needed to maintain his composure.

Turning to them, he forced his voice to remain steady. "The higher-ups won’t mediate this. But listen to me—stay sharp out there. If anything seems off, come to me immediately."

Thierry, always the brave one, puffed out his chest and gave a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. "We got this, sir. We’ll be fine."

His false bravado didn’t hide the nervous glances exchanged between the others, but they trusted Andre. And even more, they trusted each other.

Andre nodded, though the weight of unease settled heavier on him. As he watched them head toward their assignment with Alpha 10, the nagging feeling of helplessness deepened.

Despite being the chief instructor at an academy with centuries of military tradition, his hands were tied by the larger machinery of the military. The sheer power of the Shedd family’s influence was a reality he couldn’t ignore.

Unlike the other interns, who were escorted by their squad leaders, Lyra and her group were left to find Alpha 10 on their own.

As they arrived at the squad’s dormitory, they could see the nearby training ground was alive with activity.

A group of soldiers, dressed in military t-shirts and camouflage pants, were in the middle of synchronized drills.

Their movements were sharp and fluid, every step perfectly in sync, responding to orders with precision that bordered on mechanical.

The air buzzed with their shouts, unified in discipline and strength.

Watching the soldiers in action left the young interns awestruck and a little intimidated.

This wasn’t just any team. These were elites, the best of the best.

The group stood at the entrance, watching Alpha 10 squad as they wrapped up their drills. When they finished, Lyra and the others saluted, voices ringing out in unison, "Sir!"

But the response was... nothing. Not a single member of Alpha 10 acknowledged their presence.

The soldiers carried on, running laps, throwing punches, entirely ignoring the newcomers as if they were invisible. The squat leader didn’t even glance their way.

Thierry, never one to back down, called out again. He was louder this time, his voice booming across the training ground.

Still, nothing.

The silent treatment was no accident. It was deliberate.

Helion stretched lazily, arms behind his head as he stifled a yawn. "Man, they’re really being this petty? Just ’cause Instructor Andre didn’t roll over for them?" His lazy grin only added to the sting of the situation.

The midday sun beat down on them mercilessly, turning their throats dry and scratchy.

After a while, the oppressive heat became too much to bear.

Lyra leaned against the wall, rummaging through her bag for her water bottle, only to find it empty.

"Here, take some of mine," Zinnia offered, handing over her half-filled bottle. "It’s cold, though, so just sip it."

"Thanks," Lyra muttered, taking a careful sip as the cool water eased the dryness in her throat.

Hours passed, and as the sun dipped lower in the sky, Alpha 10’s drill finally came to an end.

The squad broke off into small groups, chatting amongst themselves and casting dismissive or curious glances at the interns, as if they were some oddity on display.

The squad leader, still ignoring them, turned on his heel, ready to leave without a word.

Thierry wasn’t having it. With a sharp intake of breath, he bellowed across the courtyard, "Re-port-ing!"

The leader spun around, his expression a storm cloud of irritation. "I’m not deaf, kid," he barked, eyes narrowing in annoyance.

Thierry flashed a cocky grin, showing his teeth. "Then why haven’t you seen us, Sir?"

The guy’s scowl deepened, clearly not amused by Thierry’s playful jab.

Zinnia and the others stifled chuckles, managing to stand respectfully despite the growing tension.

Their sincerity seemed to rub the guy the wrong way, only fueling his irritation.

With a sneer, he spat, "You academy brats think you’re too good to get your hands dirty with Alpha 10, huh?"

It was no secret that the vanguard squads, like Alpha 10, were highly coveted.

Soldiers fought fiercely for spots, as they led to faster promotions and better opportunities.

Yet, here stood a group of interns who had clearly been forced into the assignment, and to the squat leader, it felt like a personal insult.

"We’re just following the academy’s orders," Thierry replied, tone calm and collected.

The captain wasn’t having it. "Oh, so you follow the academy’s orders, but not mine?" He crossed his arms, twisting Thierry’s words with a sneer. "Don’t forget, your entire internship evaluation is in my hands."

Despite the guy’s thinly veiled threat, Thierry didn’t flinch. "We’ll complete our tasks, Sir," he said, his voice steady, not rising to the bait.

The guy’s gaze swept over the group again, clearly irritated, but knowing he couldn’t push them too far.

These weren’t just any interns—they were from prestigious families, and their futures were already being closely watched by the higher-ups: A boy bearing the name "Whyte", the Rymes family’s youngest daughter from the Legion Glorious... and then there were the other two kids, who seemed to have powerful backers keeping an eye on them.

Even the Alpha 10 leader had to tread carefully...

But there was one person he could single out.

His gaze landed on Lyra, the smallest and least assuming of the group. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated how far he could push her.

But before he could say anything, Lyra’s eyes met his, her gaze cold and sharp.

It was like staring into a still pool of water—calm on the surface but reflecting every calculation in his mind.

She could see through him, and that realization threw him off for a moment. Startled, he quickly straightened, his expression shifting.

Recovering, he barked out, "As for Alpha 10’s rules, the seniors in your dorm will explain them. For now, get familiar with the area. No one’s gonna babysit you here."

The interns exchanged glances, nodding in understanding.

After a brief discussion, they decided to head to the mess hall, hoping to at least get a sense of the environment.

When they arrived, the cafeteria was bustling with activity. Some of their fellow students from the academy were already there, seated with their assigned squads, laughing and eating together.

Though it was clear some squads were still warming up to their interns, there was an effort to bond.

For Lyra’s group, however, the isolation was stark.

The five of them sat alone at their table, awkwardly picking at their food while the rest of the cafeteria hummed with chatter.

Zinnia poked at her tray, grimacing after each hesitant bite. "Ugh, this cafeteria doesn’t even come close to the food back at NMA. But at least the veggies aren’t bad."

Vikie, glancing at the greens on her plate, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, wouldn’t be surprised if these were still in the ground like an hour ago."

The two exchanged laughs, trying to shake off the feeling of being ignored, as if they could joke their way out of the tension. But even as they chuckled, it was clear that neither of them could fully brush off the sting of being shunned by Alpha 10.