Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 213: First Mission For The Squad

Chapter 213: First Mission For The Squad

When Benedict heard that Lyra was back, a rare morning grin spread across his face. "Quick, prepare some of her favorite cakes and pack them in boxes. She can take them with her to work," he instructed, his energy noticeably lifted.

Meanwhile, at the entrance, Lyra found herself face-to-face with Isadora, who was clearly not thrilled to see her.

"How do you even have the audacity to stay under MY roof?" Isadora’s voice practically hissed with disdain, her glare sharp enough to cut.

Unbothered, Lyra let out a slow yawn, meeting her cousin’s bitter stare with casual indifference. "You seem super invested in where I am, Isadora. Got a reason why?"

Isadora’s hostility felt childish to Lyra, as though the girl was forever stuck in a petty rivalry that she alone cared about.

With a stiff face, Isadora gripped the hem of her dress. "Why? Do you really not get it? You’ve stolen all the attention! Dad, grandpa—they all flock to you. And at the royal banquet the other night, everyone was watching YOU. So how can you even ask why?"

Her eyes swept over Lyra’s casual clothes with thinly veiled disgust. "I just don’t get how someone like you, constantly hanging around men, with zero refinement, could attract so much admiration."

Lyra barely blinked. "You’ve got your own skills, Isadora. You could do the same." With that, she brushed past her and started descending the stairs, leaving Isadora simmering, her eyes burning with venomous jealousy.

Later, after lunch, Lyra joined Benedict in the garden for afternoon tea.

As they sat together, Benedict’s gaze drifted to the roses swaying gently in the breeze.

Nostalgia clouded his eyes, and a soft smile appeared on his face.

"I remember when your mother used to bring you here," he said, chuckling softly. "Isadora would be crying, and there you’d stand, staring at her like you couldn’t believe her tantrum."

He glanced at Lyra, who remained composed, and added with a chuckle, "Do you still remember the stories I used to tell?"

Lyra set her teacup down and replied with a slight smile, "The one about the fall of the royal family? How they ended up in exile?"

Her version was so to-the-point that Benedict let out a full laugh.

Before he could continue, Lyra stood. "It’s getting late. I need to head back."

"I’ll have the driver ready for you," Benedict offered.

"No need. My driver’s already here," she said, glancing toward the road. "Take care, Grandpa. I’ll be leaving now."

Just as she turned to go, Benedict called out, "Wait! Your uncle heard rumors that the Special Forces might be assigned a mission near the Legion Skywalkers’ base. I’m worried... it won’t be a straightforward task."

Lyra hadn’t heard anything about a new mission. The information instantly connected in her mind with the research data she’d recently gotten from Chloe. Was this just a strange coincidence, or was something much more sinister at play?

Keeping her cool under Benedict’s worried gaze, she simply nodded. "I understand."

As she exited the Calvin estate and slid into her vehicle, her expression darkened.

Crag, her driver, noticed the shift in her mood and nervously kept his eyes glued to the road, too scared to ask any questions.

Lyra quickly dialed Morrison. "The location of my next mission is near Macraite. Got anything to say about that?"

Morrison, clearly caught off guard, took a beat before replying. His face drained of color as he jumped up from his chair, hurriedly scanning a report that the maid had been sending him regularly.

After reviewing the details, he responded confidently.

"I can guarantee Chloe hasn’t made contact with anyone outside. Ever since we found her, neither she nor her family has shown any suspicious behavior."

Morrison wasn’t the type to let things slip by.

Lyra frowned. "Then go ask her again."

After ending the call, Lyra pressed a hand to her forehead, deep in thought.

Morrison had no reason to let her down now; their interests were aligned. ’Is it Admiral Dale?’ She doubted it. If he had known about the experiment, there would already be chaos by now.

She mulled over the possibilities but ultimately decided to wait and see what this mission had in store. Maybe she was reading too much into it.

"Boss, we’re here," Crag’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

As Lyra stepped out of the vehicle, she spotted Marty and a few others walking back, arms slung casually around each other.

Upon seeing her, Bruce and some of the others immediately straightened up and saluted.

"Ma’am!"

Lyra gave a brief nod in return, though her mind remained on the potential dangers awaiting her.

"Damn, a private ride to work? You must be swimming in cash now, huh, MA’AM?" Marty’s voice was sharp, dripping with sarcasm. "With all that dough, why are you still here? Fighting alongside us nobodies? What’s your angle?"

Since they weren’t on base, Marty had dropped his usual filter, letting the bitterness all slip through. His words hung in the air, making Bruce and the others obviously uncomfortable.

No one liked challenging Lyra anymore.

Lyra waved Crag away and locked her gaze on Marty, unflinching. "Simple. I want to swim in cash while get drunk with power."

No hesitation. No room for debate. With that, she turned and walked through the gate, leaving the group in stunned silence, trying to process her bluntness.

Nearby, Ryan and Wolf had overheard the exchange. Wolf, ever the casual observer, scratched his chin with a sly grin. "Ambitious, isn’t she? But this mission’s no walk in the park, Ryan. You know that."

He shook his head, muttering about it being a shame for someone so good-looking, then slung his jacket over his shoulder and headed inside.

Ryan, adjusting his sunglasses, smirked. "Let’s just hope we all get a little lucky on this one."

Later that night, when the teams gathered for roll call, Wolf stepped in, all business. His face was hard, and his voice was firm.

"Listen up, everyone. Tomorrow, 3 a.m., we meet here. We’re heading to Macraite’s second satellite. Full mission details will be briefed upon arrival."

The second he mentioned the location, Lyra’s eyes sharpened, cold and calculating.

Something didn’t add up.

While her mind was racing, piecing together the puzzle, the rest of the squad had a different reaction—fear. They’d barely survived their last mission, and now they were being thrown back into the fire.

Unit T9 was never deployed for easy assignments. The scars from their last battle were still fresh, and this new mission didn’t promise survival.

But no one protested. They’d signed their lives over the day they joined this elite unit, fully aware that each mission could be their last.

...

At 3 a.m. sharp, the team gathered and boarded the helicopter bound for the spaceport.

The rhythmic hum of the rotors wasn’t loud, but in the still, dark air, it felt like the ominous beat of a war drum, filling the silence with tension.

The ride to the warship was quiet, everyone lost in their thoughts.

Even Marty, who was usually quick with a sarcastic remark, kept his mouth shut and followed Lyra’s lead.

They all knew that out here, in the middle of enemy territory, their only chance of survival was sticking together.

After a quick spatial jump, they landed on Macraite’s second satellite. The commanding officer of the Legion of Nebulae was waiting for them. He greeted them with a look of relief, as if the cavalry had finally arrived.

"Thank god you’re here," he said, clearly stressed. "The situation’s bad. A group of lunatics has taken control of several experimental beasts and turned them into bioweapons. None of them can be allowed to leave the facility. We need you to help neutralize them."

The squad silently cursed him under their breath for treating them like expendable soldiers, but outwardly, they maintained their stoic salute.

As the Nebulae soldiers eyed Unit T9, they could sense the weight of death hanging over the team—the kind that comes from seeing too many close calls.

This wasn’t just another squad. These were hardened soldiers, and they’d been through hell and back.

Unfazed by the gravity of the situation, Wolf asked straight up, "How many men do they have? And how many beasts are we up against?"

His bluntness caught the commanding officer off guard, but he answered anyway, sending a chill down the spines of the squad.

The second satellite of Macraite wasn’t just some backwater outpost. It had a human-friendly atmosphere, unique ecosystems, and several high-security research facilities.

The place had been a prime target for rogue scientists and shady organizations for years. The settlements and labs supported some wild experiments—sometimes too wild for comfort.

One of the organizations they were dealing with now, "the Psycos" had a notorious reputation. These guys were obsessed with bio-engineering creatures into war machines, pushing biology to its absolute limit.

They’d take any animal, any creature, and enhance it until it became a weapon of mass destruction.

And then they’d sell these monsters to the highest bidder, no matter how dangerous or unstable they were.

"We’ve pinpointed their main base," the officer explained, "but we don’t have all the intel. You’ll need to scout the area first."

"Scout" was just a polite way of saying they’d be sent in first to face the brunt of the danger.

Lyra, already familiar with the Psycos’ work, knew this wasn’t just some routine mission. While it didn’t seem connected to Ansel, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all linked somehow.

Wolf snapped into action. "Level six and above, step forward. Ryan, you’ll lead the advance team. Scout the area, figure out what we’re dealing with."