Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 267: Raising The Stakes

Chapter 267: Raising The Stakes

After a brief respite, the Alliance fleet finally caught its breath.

Lyra was summoned to the medical ship to treat soldiers gravely injured by the Stellar Devourers.

Wherever she passed, soldiers and medics alike stared at her with a mix of fear and awe. Her brutal efficiency on the battlefield had left an indelible impression.

The battle monitors told the tale of her carnage: ten high-ranking enemy generals, 92 senior officers, and an uncountable number of ordinary soldiers had fallen by her hand.

Her superpower had swept through the battlefield like an unstoppable storm, decimating all in its path. Even the infamous Master Peculiar mercenaries, hired under an ironclad contract with the Empire, had broken rank and fled the moment she turned her attention to them.

Her achievements were nothing short of legendary. Few could imagine, let alone replicate, such a feat.

If not for the interference of the Stellar Devourers, she might have stormed the Empire’s flagship itself.

*****

Meanwhile, on the Empire’s side, Admiral Barret was in a state of near stroke as he reviewed the casualty reports. His fingers dug into the armrests of his chair, and the polished metal creaked under the pressure.

"Damn it!" he roared, pointing at the data displayed on the screen. "Just one Lyra—and she’s managed to kill so many of our top officers!"

The list of the dead read like a catalog of the Empire’s best and brightest.

Rear Admirals, Commodores, and even a Vice Admiral were among the fallen.

Rear Admirals alone took decades to train, and she had eliminated ten of them in a single campaign. It was a blow the Empire could scarcely afford.

The officer tasked with compiling the report stood stiffly, his face pale. "Lyra’s tactics are terrifying, sir. She operates independently and targets the strongest superpowered individuals on the field. No one can stop her."

As he spoke, the officer’s voice faltered. He remembered the haunting green superpower that had chased him across the battlefield. The memory of narrowly escaping death still sent chills down his spine.

Barret’s fury boiled over. "We have advanced mechas, high-energy weapons, an army of soldiers and officers—and you’re telling me we can’t deal with one woman?" His voice was sharp enough to cut through steel.

The officer gulped. "It’s not that we didn’t try, Admiral. But her combat abilities exceed level nine, sir. Realistically, only a Supreme could handle her."

The words hung in the air, heavy and damning. Everyone knew the truth: Supremes were forbidden from engaging in direct combat. To deploy one would violate the delicate balance of power between the factions.

Barret’s expression darkened. But instead of exploding again, he nodded slowly, his anger simmering into cold resolve. "You’re right."

He stood abruptly, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. "For now, we’ve retreated. Let’s focus on the other front."

*****

On the Alliance side, Lyra had just finished preparing to treat another patient, a trembling soldier with a grievously wounded leg.

She adjusted her enormous surgical saw with precision, ignoring the soldier’s horrified expression.

Just as she was about to make the first cut, Mandy elbowed her way through the gathered crowd. "Ensign Lyra," she said in a low voice, "Vice Admiral Whyte has requested your presence immediately."

Lyra sighed with faint regret. She had only just started—her tally of sawed limbs stood at a measly seven.

Reluctantly, she left a green energy shield over the soldier’s leg to stabilize it and set the saw down.

...

Lyra piloted her mecha to the command center aboard the Alliance flagship. The moment she entered, she noticed that all the senior officers were already present.

Standing at the door, Thierry watched her arrival with a measured gaze, hands clasped behind his back.

Mandy followed Lyra inside, taking her place at the door in a similar stance.

As Lyra stepped into the room, Chuck spoke directly. "You’re just in time. We have a mission for you."

Lyra glanced at Cohen, who stood slightly to the side. His furrowed brow and troubled expression betrayed his disapproval.

The pieces fell into place quickly. Lyra turned back to Chuck, her tone calm but probing. "I’m going to lead reinforcements to Admiral Dale’s position, right?"

Lyra’s sharp instincts caught Chuck off guard, but he nodded after a brief pause. "That’s correct. After pulling back from this front, the Empire has bolstered its forces near Admiral Dale’s position."

The situation was precarious. If the Legion of the Apollo’s were annihilated, and Wyrmtrace fell, it would be a catastrophic loss for the Alliance, leading to a disastrous domino effect.

To avoid such an outcome, they had no choice but to send reinforcements.

However, Lyra was acutely aware of the risks. If she were sent to Admiral Dale, she knew the man would likely use her skills to turn the tide—and then eliminate her without a second thought once her utility was exhausted.

Cohen, sharing these concerns, frowned deeply, his disapproval written all over his face.

Instead of outright rejecting the mission, Lyra asked calmly, "May I ask, sir... If I leave, what will we do if Stellar Devourers reappear here?"

Chuck sighed, his tone heavy. "Stellar Devourers have also been sighted near Admiral Dale’s position. That’s why this gamble is necessary. If we divide our forces, we may not have enough to withstand their next assault. The hope is that you can reach them before the enemy moves again."

He leaned against the table, visibly weighed down by the grim choices.

Ideally, they would have fortified Wyrmtrace and avoided splitting their forces, but the Legion of the Apollo’s included many experienced officers and Admiral Dale himself. They couldn’t afford to abandon them.

"Luckily," Chuck added, "Fleet Admiral Whyte will arrive at Wyrmtrace in five hours. We can hold out until then."

The mention of Frederick brought a flicker of relief to the room. If Lyra was the Alliance’s most formidable weapon, Frederick was their anchor, a calming presence that steadied even the most turbulent waters. His impending arrival gave everyone a glimmer of hope.

Lyra mulled it over, her thoughts racing. After a moment, she spoke. "I have a suggestion."

"Let’s hear it," Chuck said.

"If this is already a gamble on time," Lyra began, her gaze steady, "then why not raise the stakes? Instead of splitting our forces, we commit fully. We take all available units from Wyrmtrace and coordinate with Admiral Dale to launch a full-scale assault on the enemy. A pincer attack."

The room fell into stunned silence.

Cohen’s eyes widened briefly before a determined glint appeared in them. "I support this plan," he said firmly.

The other officers hesitated, their expressions ranging from thoughtful to outright alarmed.

"Are you insane?" one officer exclaimed. "If we leave Wyrmtrace defenseless for five hours and the Empire attacks, we’ll be remembered as traitors!"

"Exactly!" another officer chimed in. "If the enemy lands on Wyrmtrace, we might still salvage the situation. But if they bypass it—"

"They’ll run into Snowfall," Zarek interrupted sharply. His eyes were sharp as he leaned forward. "I also support Ensign Lyra’s proposal. If we win, we’ll solidify our hold on Wyrmtrace. If we lose, Snowfall remains as a backup. Legion Glory will hold the line there no matter the cost."

Wyrmtrace, while fortified, had always relied on Snowfall as its defensive fallback. Long before Wyrmtrace was developed, Snowfall had served as the sector’s primary defense.

Strategically, Snowfall, Wyrmtrace, and Voidstar No. 2 formed a triangular formation on the star map.

Admiral Dale’s position near Wyrmtrace meant Lyra and her reinforcements could reach him within five hours—the same amount of time it would take Frederick to secure Wyrmtrace.

"It’s feasible," Chuck murmured, his excitement growing. "Even if the enemy breaches Wyrmtrace, Legion Glory and Snowfall will buy us time to regroup." He slapped the table with a resounding thud. "I’ll present this to Fleet Admiral Whyte immediately."

Minutes later, Frederick’s holographic image appeared in the center of the room. All the officers stood and saluted sharply.

Frederick returned the gesture with a composed nod, his piercing gaze scanning the room.

Chuck quickly summarized Lyra’s proposal.

Frederick listened intently, his expression unreadable.

When the explanation concluded, Frederick’s voice broke the silence. "This plan is... too risky."

His words were measured but carried undeniable weight. "If I fail to arrive in time, or if the enemy detects our movements and exploits the gap, the consequences will be catastrophic."