Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 303: Calculation of Elden Prime

Chapter 303: Calculation of Elden Prime

On their way home from school, children sang cheerfully:

"The Everglow arrives, pirates flee;

Build the base, raise the homes;

Till the land, harvest the fields!"

From her office window in the military base, Lyra squinted against the glow of the setting sun. The silhouettes of newly constructed buildings rose in the distance, filling the horizon with hope and the promise of progress.

Just then, Phelixes knocked on her door and stepped in, carrying a steaming bowl of soup. "Sis, dinner is ready."

With manpower stretched thin, Phelixes, in his role as adjutant, had also taken on the responsibility of preparing her meals. He embraced the duty with enthusiasm.

"This is sweet soup," he said as he placed it down. "I noticed your voice sounded hoarse during the meeting today. Drink this; it’ll help."

Lyra nodded, took a sip, and raised her eyebrows slightly. "Make this again tomorrow."

She was direct when offering opinions. If she liked something, she asked for more. If she didn’t, it was never mentioned again.

Seeing her approval, Phelixes grinned widely. "Understood!"

At that moment, Helion strolled in with a smirk. "Looks like I showed up at the perfect time. Boss, care to share some food?"

Before waiting for an answer, he grabbed a piece of bread from the table and bit into it. Flashing Phelixes a thumbs-up, he said, "Not bad, your cooking’s getting better."

Phelixes forced a smile. "If you’re hungry, the cafeteria’s open."

"Nothing there is as good as this," Helion retorted with a grin.

"My cooking isn’t for you," Phelixes snapped.

"Well, I’m eating it anyway."

"You—" Phelixes’s patience snapped, but before he could say more, Lyra calmly set down her spoon.

The soft sound instantly silenced both men.

"What’s the matter?" Lyra asked evenly.

Helion, still chewing, handed her a document. "A letter from Elden Prime just arrived."

Lyra opened it and read its contents. Her brows furrowed slightly. "Notify all regiment leaders to meet in the conference room in half an hour."

Though her expression barely changed, the subtle shift in her tone signaled urgency.

Half an hour later, the regiment leaders were assembled in the meeting room.

Placing the letter on the table, Lyra looked around and addressed them.

"The Alliance Military Council has ordered us to return to Elden Prime within a month to report on our progress. There will also be a commendation ceremony for our recent achievements."

The room fell silent as everyone processed the news. However, instead of relief or celebration, unease hung heavy in the air.

Caleb broke the silence, his analytical mind already at work. "The timing feels strange."

"Exactly," Helion added, his voice edged with sarcasm. "If they wanted us earlier, why wait until now? And if later, why not let us finish establishing the base? This timing is deliberate."

"It’s clear they’re up to something," Aurelius said coldly. "The recall comes right as the settlement is stabilizing. This is the busiest and most critical period."

Lyra calmly folded the letter. "Whatever their intentions, prepare your reports and follow the order. We leave nothing to chance."

Everyone nodded, though the tension in the room remained palpable. Whatever awaited them on Elden Prime, it was unlikely to be a simple celebration.

"Any Other News?" The group turned their eyes to Lyra.

"Not for now," she replied, her voice steady.

Even if there were additional updates, they wouldn’t be disclosed until she returned to Elden Prime.

After a brief pause, Lyra lowered her gaze, tapping her fingers lightly on the table before continuing.

"Helion and Aurelius will remain here to oversee the construction. The rest of you, prepare to leave for Elden Prime."

"What about Broken Blade and the others?" someone asked.

Lyra snorted faintly. "They didn’t tell us to bring the prisoners."

After the meeting, Lyra sat quietly in her office for a moment before heading to the base’s dungeon.

"Check mate!" a voice exclaimed as she approached.

"Win!" Broken Blade cheered, kicking Markle under the table. "Hurry up, hand over your drumstick!"

"Damn it! That’s three drumsticks already!" Markle groaned as he reluctantly handed over the prized piece of chicken from his tray.

When Lyra entered, she found the prisoners—dressed in pristine white uniforms—deeply engrossed in chess.

To pass the time, they had resorted to betting their daily rations.

This "prison" was hardly a dungeon in the traditional sense. It was spacious, equipped with beds, communal closets, a bathroom, and entertainment devices like a TV and opticomputers.

There were no superpower suppressors, no high-energy weapons, and even the three level-nine Peculiars weren’t restrained. Yet none dared consider escape.

To the prisoners, Lyra was like an unyielding force of nature, an immovable mountain. The moment she stepped into the room, their laughter ceased, and the air grew tense. Her visits rarely boded well.

"Well, well," Gino drawled lazily from his bed in the corner, "what brings Rear Admiral Shedd to this windless dungeon? Or did you finally grow a heart and bring me a bottle of wine?"

After six months without alcohol, Gino had cycled through frantic cravings, violent tantrums, and finally resignation. Every sober day felt like a slow torture.

"I’ll be leaving for Elden Prime in a week," Lyra said bluntly.

The three level-nine Peculiars froze at her words, their expressions shifting.

A moment later, glowing psychokinesis marks appeared on their foreheads, quelling any rebellious thoughts before they could form.

Of course, Lyra had anticipated their reactions. She wouldn’t leave them any opportunity to cause trouble.

Without acknowledging their unease, she continued, "There are a few matters I’ll need your cooperation on."

She dragged a chair forward and sat, crossing her legs. "Here’s the deal..."

As Lyra outlined her plan, the prisoners listened intently.

When she finished, Gino burst into laughter, clapping his hands. "You’re wasted in the military! What a shame you’re not a pirate!"

"She is just more honest than the rest of those military hypocrites," Broken Blade added, tossing her chicken leg aside, her interest clearly piqued.

Before long, Lyra and the bulk of the Legion of Everglow departed for Elden Prime.

When their starship landed at the bustling spaceport, it was immediately surrounded by journalists and camera crews.

"Rear Admiral Shedd has reclaimed Voidstar No. 1 in just six months. Today, she returns in triumph to a hero’s welcome in Central City!"

"Reports suggest Rear Admiral Shedd has surpassed Rear Admiral Cohen Whyte, becoming the most celebrated young officer in the Alliance."

Lyra disembarked with her usual composure, her regiment leaders—led by Grains—forming a protective barrier around her to fend off the eager press.

Inside the transport, Mandy addressed the reporters with a polite smile. "The military will host a press conference tomorrow morning to answer all your questions."

The emblem of the Legion of Everglow—the sun rising over a planet’s surface—gleamed proudly on vehicles and banners alike.

At the front of the parade, Lyra rode in an open-top lev, her calm demeanor unshaken by the cheers and flashes from the crowd.

Behind her, regiment leaders and their soldiers glided on hoverboards in precise formation, creating a synchronized display of discipline and strength.

The procession resembled a shimmering galaxy or a tidal wave, surging steadily toward the towering Alliance Military Council headquarters.