The Trash Guide Awakens: The Youngest General's Hidden Wife

The revelation about Planet V-17 changed everything within the Veyr family structure. Within the hour, Major General Raevor Veyr had used his supreme command override to completely seal the academy’s internal investigation network.

No academy administrator could access the shuttle’s original flight records, and no instructor could alter the surviving crash data. Every relevant file was immediately transferred directly into top-tier military custody.

Raevor stood inside a secure investigation chamber aboard the Veyr flagship, his expression cold as he studied the glowing holographic reconstruction of the destroyed academy shuttle. The shattered vessel rotated slowly before him in pale blue light.

”Reconstruct the navigation sequence from the physical memory core,” Raevor commanded, his voice echoing off the metallic walls.

A military intelligence officer standing at the primary terminal immediately complied. ”Yes, General.”

Lines of raw code and flight telemetry streamed across the central display. The shuttle’s original, registered flight path emerged in bright green. Then, another line appeared beside it.

[AUTHORIZED NAVIGATION COURSE]

Raevor’s eyes narrowed slightly. ”Compare them.”

The diagnostic system overlaid the two trajectories across the spatial projection. They were almost identical for the first half of the flight.

Then, the unauthorized deviation appeared in a sharp crimson curve. The shuttle had been forcefully ordered to alter its path and turn directly toward the active Zerg dead zone.

Raevor’s expression grew visibly colder. ”How was the command inserted into the automated pilot?”

”Investigating now,” the intelligence officer replied, his fingers flying across the terminal interface. He enlarged the navigation records, isolating the exact second the course shifted. ”The modification wasn’t made from the academy shuttle itself.”

Raevor stepped closer to the primary light display. ”Then where?”

”External military authorization,” the officer reported, his tone growing cautious.

Raevor’s sharp eyes focused on the line of code. ”Identify the access point.”

The officer hesitated, his hands hovering over the control board for a brief second. ”General, the authorization was encrypted using a restricted military-grade command channel.”

”Whose?” Raevor demanded, his tone leaving no room for delay.

”We’re still decrypting the security key,” the officer answered, keeping his head down.

Raevor leaned forward, his eyes fixing on the lower corner of the screen. ”Show me the timestamp.”

The precise temporal data appeared across the readout. His gaze immediately hardened as he read the numbers.

The trajectory modification had occurred full minutes before the shuttle even departed the academy launch pad. This had not been an emergency mid-flight correction. Someone had meticulously planned the fatal trajectory in advance.

”There’s more,” the intelligence officer added, opening a secondary window beside the primary log. ”The navigation modification required a valid military clearance token to bypass the shuttle’s emergency safety protocols.”

Raevor’s jaw tightened. ”Which means?”

”The person who issued the command had fully authorized access to the academy’s transport systems,” the officer confirmed softly.

Silence filled the high-tech chamber. Raevor remembered Rhaevia’s initial report after her awakening. She had noted that the shuttle’s navigation had subtly changed by fractions of a degree before shifting dramatically toward the restricted border.

She had noticed the mechanical anomaly because of her keen perception. Most cadets wouldn’t have questioned the shift until it was far too late. Someone had fully expected the students to die in the dead zone before they could ever discover what was happening.

”Search every individual with direct access to that specific transit system,” Raevor ordered, his voice dangerously quiet.

”Already done,” the officer replied.

A categorized list of personnel flashed onto the central screen. Academy transportation officers appeared first, followed by senior military instructors and key administrative personnel.

Several high-ranking academy officials were listed near the bottom. Beneath them sat one final, sensitive category.

[IMPERIAL MILITARY LIAISON PERSONNEL]

Raevor’s eyes remained fixed on the glowing text. ”Cross-reference them with the personnel connected to Rhaevia’s original disposal order.”

The intelligence officer’s fingers moved rapidly across the touch interface. The advanced processing unit began filtering the names against historical access logs.

One name disappeared from the screen, then another was eliminated, and then another. Most of the potential candidates were cleared within seconds. Finally, only a handful of names remained highlighted in bright amber.

Raevor stared at the surviving list. ”Expand their active academy connections.”

The layout of the display shifted instantly. One individual held direct administrative authority over the academy’s military training systems.

Another possessed override access to student transport schedules. A third had personally participated in approving the wilderness survival examination routes.

Raevor’s expression became utterly unreadable. ”Trace their external communications.”

”General, tracing active military liaisons requires high-level Imperial High Command authorization,” the officer warned carefully.

”I already have it,” Raevor replied flatly.

The officer immediately lowered his head. ”Yes, General.”

The complex decryption algorithms began unraveling the encrypted communication channels. Several tense minutes passed in absolute silence as the progress bar crept forward.

BEEP.

A violent red alert banner flashed across every terminal screen in the room.

[UNAUTHORIZED COMMAND INTERCEPTED]

Raevor’s eyes narrowed. ”Where did it originate?”

The intelligence officer stared at the incoming telemetry coordinates. The color slowly drained from his face as he read the location log.

”General...” the officer stammered.

”Speak,” Raevor commanded.

”The override command was transmitted from within the Imperial Gifted Academy itself,” the officer revealed.

Raevor went completely still, his hands resting behind his back. ”Which specific section?”

The officer enlarged the mapped coordinates on the primary display. The precise tactical building highlighted in pulsing red.

[CENTRAL TRAINING CAMP - MILITARY ADMINISTRATION WING]

Raevor’s gaze became dangerously cold. The culprit hadn’t fled the system. They hadn’t disappeared into deep space. They hadn’t even left the surface of the planet.

They were still operating directly inside the academy grounds, surrounded by thousands of unsuspecting cadets while continuing their duties within the training camp. And they had just discovered that a high-level military clearance was actively investigating their trail.

Raevor turned on his heel toward the heavy blast doors of the chamber. ”Lock down the academy grid.”

The intelligence officer immediately stood at full attention. ”General, should we alert the civilian faculty and administrative board?”

”No,” Raevor replied calmly, stopping at the threshold. ”Not yet.”

His sharp eyes settled one last time on the pulsing red coordinates on the display map.

”If the person who planned Rhaevia’s death realizes we’ve pinpointed their location,” Raevor said softly, ”they will attempt to destroy the primary memory banks.”

He paused, the light from the corridor casting a sharp shadow across his features.

”Or try again.”

Back inside the vast sprawl of the Imperial Gifted Academy, an encrypted terminal sitting in a darkened office suddenly went completely black.

A figure sitting alone inside the quiet military administration wing slowly removed their gloved hand from the glass console. The soft glow of the monitor faded into total darkness, leaving only the ambient light of the campus quad filtering through the window.

The person turned their head slightly, looking out toward the reinforced security window overlooking the training grounds. A faint smile appeared on their face.

They already knew. Someone high up in the military command chain had finally begun asking the right questions. But the person who authorized the shuttle modification was still sitting safely inside the training camp, holding all the keys.