Getting a Technology System in Modern Day

“Then who?” the leader who had accused the Empire retorted sharply, clearly stung by the Xelovra leader’s dismantling of his argument. “They’re the only ones who have all the pieces that fit the puzzle!”

His frustration was obvious, he had presented his hypothesis with confidence, expecting agreement or at least serious consideration. Being corrected and essentially discredited in front of the entire Conclave leadership left him bitter, and he wasn’t ready to back down.

Yet no one else stepped forward with an alternative suspect. All known external enemies of the Conclave were either too far away or still recovering from past conflicts. The aftermath of their long war had left the region between them nearly uninhabitable, making any large-scale operation prohibitively expensive in terms of mana stone consumption, especially for wormhole travel. And like the Conclave, they too had shown no signs of overcoming the technological limitations surrounding such feats.

“I think we need to consider the possibility that we are facing an enemy we are not yet aware of, and act accordingly until we have evidence to suggest otherwise,” the Shadari leader said, his voice calm and measured. It was only the second time he had spoken since the meeting began, the first being when he swore the mana oath.

He continued, “Whoever they are, they understand how we operate. They targeted communication nodes first, which suggests a strategic intent to delay or prevent news of the attacks from spreading. That’s not random, it’s deliberate and calculated.”

“It’s easy for you to say that,” another leader snapped. “You haven’t lost any territory. Are you suggesting we just do nothing and let them keep attacking us?”

“I’m suggesting that sacrificing some territory might be a necessary price to pay if it helps us learn more about the enemy,” the Shadari leader replied coldly, unfazed by the rebuke. “You want retaliation. I want answers.” There was no shame or pity in his tone, only ruthless pragmatism.

His answer nearly plunged the meeting into another round of chaos. But before the murmurs could erupt into full-blown shouting, the Grand Xor’Vak rose and intervened with a booming voice.

“That is cowardice,” he declared. “And cowardice is not something the Conclave is known for. If they dared to intrude into our territories and attack us, then we must respond with swift retaliation, otherwise, they’ll only grow bolder.”

He paused briefly, letting his words settle before continuing.

“And for that reason, I hereby invoke Article Fifteen of the Conclave. I declare this unknown force an official enemy of the Conclave and demand a coordinated retaliation.”

Whether he had forgotten or simply didn’t care that Article Fifteen required a majority vote to be enacted was unclear, but it quickly became evident that he had nothing to worry about. Nearly all the leaders who had lost territories immediately voiced their support. Even those from the lower-ranked civilizations, who feared they might be next, stood behind the declaration.

Surprisingly, even many of the top fifty civilizations agreed. While they hadn’t yet suffered losses, they knew that if the unknown enemy focused its full strength on just one of them, even they would struggle to mount an effective defense. Supporting this mobilization now was the smarter choice.

Thanks to this unspoken consensus, no one bothered to formally vote. The chamber moved forward into the next phase, implementation.

Ideas flew across the room, suggestions and demands volleying between factions. The leaders of the territories already attacked were the fiercest advocates for an immediate and aggressive campaign, urging for total mobilization to remove the threat and reclaim lost systems as quickly as possible.

They knew full well that the financial burden of such operations would fall largely on their shoulders. Some might even lose a star system as collateral if they failed to meet the repayment schedules for the Conclave’s support.

But even that was a price they were willing to pay, because to them, this was survival. The enemy had already proven capable of seizing star systems with alarming speed, often before the defenders could even mount a meaningful resistance. For these leaders, this wasn’t just about reclaiming their lost star systems, it was about ensuring that their capital systems wouldn’t be next.

While the discussions moved forward, one of the leaders who had recently lost three star systems remained conspicuously silent. But no one noticed. The others were too caught up in planning, too absorbed in their own anxieties and ambitions to care about one leader’s quietude.

“It seems the things the Empire offered them have made them blind,” he thought bitterly, watching the others push past the earlier suggestion that the Terran Empire might be behind the attacks.

He seethed in silence.

To him, it was obvious. They weren’t just ignoring the possibility, they were willfully dismissing it. Not because it lacked merit, but because acknowledging it would mean losing access to everything the Empire had given them. The arguments defending the Empire were weak, built on technicalities and wishful thinking. The Zelovra leader had done nothing more than tear apart the suspicion, he hadn’t offered a credible alternative suspect. And while many of their known external enemies had some of the capabilities needed to launch such attacks, none had all of them the way the Empire did.

That alone made them the only real suspect in his eyes, and their refusal to see that was unacceptable.

Worse still, the Terran Empire’s own history was filled with alarming inconsistencies. If their claims were true, and they had only entered the space age one or two decades ago, then that made them even more terrifying than anyone in the Conclave realized.

How does a civilization that young fight the Conclave to a standstill in their first decade of spacefaring? he wondered. How do they develop something as devastating as black hole bombs? Or create mind-breaking technologies like their VR systems within just a few years?

And then there was their Emperor, an individual whose very existence defied logic. A being capable of destruction of unbelievable scale, whose existence alone should have dragged his civilization into the space age long before their records claimed. And despite having access to mana stones in abundance, their technology seemed to barely use them at all.

The more he dwelled on it, the more convinced he became: the Terran Empire was behind the attacks. They had the means. They had the motive. And they had taken his son from him, the son he had sent to lead on one of the now-captured systems.

He didn’t know whether his son was alive or dead.

I have to retaliate. I have to avenge my son, he thought, rage tightening his chest, his eyes burning redder with every passing moment.

But he knew he couldn’t strike openly. Not yet.

It has to be done in a way that forces the Conclave to take my side, he plotted silently, as ideas began swirling in his mind. Slowly, a plan began to form.

On the outside, his hologram projected nothing more than a cold, satisfied smile.

And to those who noticed it, they assumed it was nothing more than the look of a man eager to reclaim what had been stolen.

They had no idea.