Chapter 367 Call in the Starfleet
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The reactions from the production team were a sight to behold. In the end, it was Michael who stepped forward.
“Something’s come up. A bunch of space tramps, no idea where they came from, managed to break Leonard out and destroy the test report,” he announced, his voice tight.
A female contestant let out a sharp, derisive laugh. “What a convenient coincidence.”
Michael’s own expression was grim.
He genuinely had no clue about any of this.
While Ciara had told him not to worry, the fallout was still landing squarely on the show’s doorstep.
A headache pulsed behind his temples, and his gaze drifted unconsciously toward Layla.
She was already watching him.
Their eyes met, and he quickly looked away, a pang of guilt twisting in his gut.
“Didn’t you interrogate those tramps?” Layla’s question came slowly, drawing everyone’s attention.
Fiona shook her head with a sigh. “No. We traced their accounts-anonymous transfers. Untraceable.”
Layla tilted her head, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips. “So, we’re just supposed to let this slide, again?”
Fiona shifted uncomfortably.
“From the Quetzalcoatlus incident until now, you haven’t managed to pin down a single thing. Isn’t the production team’s primary job to ensure the contestants’ safety?” Layla’s tone was uncharacteristically sharp, each word a deliberate prod.
Color flooded Fiona’s cheeks, then drained away, leaving her pale and shaken.
Then, Layla’s expression softened into a smile. “Then again, maybe it’s not entirely your fault. The culprits were likely interstellar pirates. This seems like a matter for General Hartwell to handle with his contacts. Don’t you agree, Ms. Myers?”
This had been her goal all along.
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Getting Liam to call in the Starfleet served a dual purpose: it would deter any future pirate interference and make the Grant family think twice about pulling more stunts.
Right now, Layla’s focus was on securing Planet A13 without further drama.
Everything else could wait until after the show.
Fiona still seemed hesitant.
Liam’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in their depths. “Do you want this show to continue or not?”
His icy tone made Fiona flinch, and her resistance crumbled. She gave a stiff nod.
Liam caught Layla’s eye and nodded back almost imperceptibly.
“Then, General Hartwell, if you’d please make the call,” Layla said, her smile widening.
She turned to address the other contestants, “At least everyone can get a decent night’s sleep from now on.”
A wave of relieved cheers and praise for Layla swept through the group.
The live chat exploded.
[Finally, someone handling business! The producers just sweep everything under the rug.]
[No kidding. The second the Grant family’s involved, they turn a blind eye. Pathetic.]
[Bet the Grants are investors. Would explain everything.]
[Fiona’s always covering for Stella, isn’t she?]
[Thank god for the Starfleet. Maybe we can actually enjoy the show now.]
[Isn’t this abusing power? Just calling in the military?]
[Open your eyes, man! We’re talking about berserker rage drugs and interstellar pirates! This is their job. Our taxes pay for this!]
Reading the comments, Layla allowed herself a small, satisfied smirk.
She’d anticipated accusations of Liam overstepping, but this was far beyond petty sabotage.
Taking a deep breath, she looked directly into the nearest Vanguard camera.
“Everyone, requesting military assistance isn’t a decision we made lightly. The situation has
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escalated beyond what we, as contestants or even the production team, can safely manage on our own. Innocent people could get hurt. Interstellar pirates don’t show up without a serious reason. This show represents a huge investment for everyone involved, and I doubt any of us want to see it shut down prematurely.
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