Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 304: The Stolen Achievement

Chapter 304: The Stolen Achievement

It had been six months since Lyra’s Legion eliminated the pirate crews. Shortly after the war, all related reports had been promptly submitted.

After they came back to Elden Prime, rewards and promotions soon followed, officially recognizing their achievements.

Soldiers who had once been ordinary privates now wore new ranks.

Aurelius and Phelixes, for example—previously a regiment leader and an adjutant—were promoted three ranks in a single leap due to their crucial roles during the campaign.

The atmosphere after the promotion ceremony was jubilant. Even Lyra was summoned to the Alliance Military Council to receive commendations from Admiral Frederick.

Standing with her hands clasped behind her back, Lyra faced the council.

Admiral Dessel and Admiral Conners were physically present, while Fleet Admiral Frederick and four other admirals joined via holographic projections.

Of the group, only Raphel and Dessel appeared relatively young; the others had served in the military for six or seven decades, if not longer.

After some perfunctory praise, Frederick said, "You will remain on standby at the main base for now."

At first, it seemed like a routine instruction.

Lyra’s eyes lifted slightly. "Sir, when will I be reassigned to my garrison post?"

Her question caused a subtle shift in the atmosphere. Even Frederick’s expression faltered briefly.

The admirals exchanged quick glances, but Lyra’s gaze remained unwavering. Her calm yet calculating expression betrayed that she already suspected something.

Frederick replied with measured composure, "About your garrison assignment, we have made alternative arrangements."

All eyes turned to Lyra, waiting for her reaction.

After a moment of silence, her lips curled into a faint, cold smile. "So, after six months of effort—securing Voidstar No. 1 and building half the base—it turns out it was all for someone else’s benefit?"

Her words were razor-sharp, sending ripples through the room. She added, her tone biting, "Might I know who this shameless usurper is?"

The bluntness of her statement shattered the council’s façade of composure. One of the admirals scowled, barking, "Rear Admiral Shedd, watch your tone!"

Raphel, seated casually to the side, smirked and rubbed his ear. "Actually, I think Rear Admiral Shedd’s description is quite accurate."

Dessel, yawning lazily, chimed in, "Yeah, if you can’t handle the responsibility, don’t go snatching someone else’s hard-earned prize." His disdainful gaze landed squarely on Admiral Conners, who bristled under the unspoken accusation.

Even Valeria, known for her sharp tongue, remained unusually silent. Her crossed arms, however, betrayed her annoyance as her fingers tapped impatiently against her elbow.

She glanced briefly at Frederick, whose expression revealed little, then said nothing.

The truth was plain: the situation was profoundly unjust.

Lyra had worked tirelessly for months, sacrificing troops and resources to secure Voidstar No. 1—a location the Alliance had struggled to claim for years.

Yet now, Conners had maneuvered behind the scenes, leveraging political connections to reap the rewards.

Voidstar No. 1 was enormous, even larger than Wyrmtrace. While its immediate resources were limited, its strategic location on the Alliance’s border made it invaluable.

Future development would attract settlers and opportunities, turning the first garrison stationed there into a major power.

Everyone in the room understood the stakes.

Frederick finally broke the tense silence. "Voidstar No. 1 is located on the border. In times of war, it requires someone suitable to maintain stability."

But Lyra remained unfazed. "Sir, I believe I am more than capable of fulfilling that role."

Her defiance sent ripples through the council. She stood tall and unyielding, her sharp gaze cutting through the room.

Her refusal to yield left the admirals uneasy. She was like an unsheathed blade—dangerous, unpredictable, and unwilling to conform. One misstep, and it would cut deep.

Frederick’s stern gaze locked onto Lyra as he delivered his verdict. "Your attitude, that’s why. You’ve already accumulated enough influence on Wyrmtrace. We cannot allow you to develop Voidstar No. 1 unchecked. Sooner or later, you’d lead that territory beyond the Alliance’s jurisdiction."

His bluntness silenced the room, though many shared his concern, even if they wouldn’t say it aloud.

The reality was hard to ignore. Despite wartime challenges, Wyrmtrace’s development under Lyra’s leadership was nearing completion.

Her commercial strategies on the planet had already raised eyebrows. With her growing influence, even a small maneuver on her part could destabilize Wyrmtrace’s entire system.

Combined with her rebellious nature and undeniable strength, neither the government nor the military could risk letting her claim Voidstar No. 1.

If fortune favored her, she could control two planets and potentially declare independence. Worse, she might use them as footholds to consolidate power over the entire Alliance.

The truth was simple: the government feared Lyra. She sought both power and wealth—and had the ability to obtain them.

Lyra stood alone, facing them all. Her presence filled the room like a brewing storm. Yet her expression remained unreadable as she said calmly, "Understood, sir."

She did not argue or protest further. Her stillness seemed like a graceful surrender, but the tension in the room only thickened.

Frederick broke the silence. "Wait outside."

Lyra left without hesitation, her back straight and unyielding.

As the doors closed behind her, the council resumed their debate about her reassignment.

The discussion dragged on without resolution.

"We all fear her, but we need her abilities," someone finally admitted. "Why not keep her stationed on Elden Prime? Deploy her where she’s most effective."

It was a clear attempt to reduce Lyra to a mere weapon—powerful, versatile, and expendable. The council sought to use her like a cannon, aimed and fired as needed.

Dessel leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh, his disdain palpable. His expression screamed "hypocrisy" as he muttered, "Of course. We hold the power, so why should we care about what that young woman feels?"

He remembered his own frustrations as a young officer, and his disgust deepened.

Raphel, seated nearby, glared silently at the council. His clenched fists suggested he’d rather fight than argue.

Conners, always eager to assert control, smirked as he addressed the dissenters. "Admirals Dessel and Raphel, do you have objections to the council’s decision?"

Dessel scoffed and met the bait head-on. "Yes."

Raphel didn’t hesitate. "Big ones."

Frederick tapped his desk lightly, signaling for them to explain. "Let’s hear them."

Dessel straightened, his lazy demeanor gone, and spoke with sharp conviction. "You already know the answer, Sir. Lyra has ambition, but she also has the strength to back it up. People like her thrive on trust, not suppression. If you’re so intent on clipping her wings now, you might as well have killed her off when she was a cadet."

Raphel, as usual, was more direct. "She wants power? Let her have it. She’s not even forty yet. With her capabilities, she could guarantee the Alliance centuries of stability. What happens after that doesn’t matter—we’ll all be long dead by then."

Both admirals spoke with brutal honesty, but Frederick’s response was curt. "Her garrison will be assigned on Elden Prime."

Dessel’s frustration peaked. For all their arguments, Frederick seemed deaf to reason, hearing only sarcasm.

After the council reconvened, Lyra was called back into the chamber to be informed of her new assignment: Elden Prime, Vangarou Continent.

Lyra accepted the decision with apparent composure. "Understood, sir," she replied, then added, "I’d like to request annual leave to handle private matters."

Frederick’s brow furrowed slightly. "What kind of private matters, if I may ask?"

The question was loaded, and not without reason—was she planning a coup on Wyrmtrace?

Lyra answered evenly. "There are specialized technical operations on Wyrmtrace that require my personal oversight."

Wyrmtrace’s development was nearly complete, and it was time to finalize matters, including sending Shane and the others back to their origins.

Since Wyrmtrace fell under his jurisdiction, Frederick reluctantly approved her leave. Yet he remained wary.

Lyra’s connections to unsavory groups like the Snakeheads continued to stir distrust among the upper echelons of the Alliance.

To many in the military, her alliances blurred the line between ambition and loyalty. They questioned whether she possessed the principles required of a commanding officer.