Getting a Technology System in Modern Day

“Who dares?!” the Valthorin leader thundered, slamming his hand onto the table. The gesture might have carried more weight if the meeting hadn’t been held via group call, his holographic image merely flickered slightly, his display shaking for a brief moment before settling.

But no one was surprised by his reaction.

The Valthorins were known to hold their honor and pride above all else. And now, both were being called into question by the very civilizations they considered beneath them. To the Valthorin leader, this was not just an accusation; it was an insult. There was no way he would simply sit back and watch without responding.

Yet the leader who had demanded answers didn’t flinch. Instead of replying directly, he raised a hand and jabbed his finger at the holograms displaying the damning images of the enemy fleets. His silence spoke louder than words, there was no need for verbal sparring.

His expression made his message clear: Your outrage is meaningless in the face of evidence.

“So, what explanation do you have for these ships?” another leader asked, his frustration barely hidden. The realization had hit him hard, he had lost the most star systems out of everyone. Seven. Seven star systems had gone completely dark. He was furious.

“I have never approved, let alone considered, sending ships to attack another’s territory,” the Yrall Coalition leader responded, his tone sharp but measured. “Why would I resort to secrecy when the Conclave grants me the right to declare war openly and seize territory through legitimate means?”

He was quick to distance himself, and for good reason. The Yrall Coalition was well-known for its unmatched large-scale, rapid manufacturing capabilities. If the top fifty civilizations had conspired to launch a joint offensive, it would have been the Yrall who supplied most of the ships. That made him the most obvious suspect.

But he wasn’t the only one on edge.

Similar thoughts ran through the minds of all the top-fifty leaders. The images clearly showed vessels built with their tech. At first, many suspected a setup by the lower fifty, until they realized that the evidence was too consistent, too independently sourced to be fabricated.

That left them with two chilling possibilities.

One: Someone inside the Conclave was orchestrating this, framing them all.

Two: someone outside was doing it, and that was far worse.

Because that would mean someone not only had intimate knowledge of their fleet designs and technologies, but was using them to attack with precision and coordination. And had it not been for the scattered spies who picked up the attacks and intercepted the SOS signals, this invasion might have continued unnoticed for far longer.

Whoever it was, they had access, they had planning, and they had the upper hand.

“So, are you implying that someone else is behind this and is trying to frame you?” one of the leaders asked, his voice sharp with disbelief. “I know you people at the top look down on us, but don’t insult our intelligence. Are we supposed to believe that someone somehow gained access to your most tightly guarded technologies, managed to replicate them, and then used them just to frame you? If they had the capacity to build your ships, they could’ve built better ones. And if they were going to attack us anyway, what would be the point in copying your designs?”

He paused, waiting for a reply, but another voice cut in.

“And what about the use of wormholes?” another leader demanded. “None of us, except you, have the means to use them. And ever since the Empire practically gave you unrestricted access to more of them, along with the mana stones to power them, you’ve had no excuse for the old limitations. Are you going to tell us someone else is using them too?”

“I’m certain the Trianrians are involved,” a third leader said firmly. “They have strict protocols for wormhole usage across the Conclave. Either this was done with their permission, or they’re the ones opening them. They’re one of the few with enough capable individuals to sustain wormhole activity at the scale we’ve witnessed.”

For the next five minutes, none of the top fifty leaders were allowed to speak.

Those who had suffered losses took over the floor, unleashing a barrage of accusations, questions, theories, and demands for explanations. Their frustration was palpable, and the tone grew more severe with every passing moment.

Some even went so far as to threaten secession from the Conclave, proposing the formation of an independent military alliance composed of the civilizations that had been attacked, an act that, if realized, would fracture the Conclave itself.

…………………

‘If this keeps up, the Conclave really will fracture… but who the hell is behind all this?’ The Yrall Coalition leader thought grimly. A split in the Conclave would be catastrophic for them. Their economy thrived on interstellar trade, and any division would lead to tariffs, trade barriers, and disrupted markets, leaving them with massive oversupply and a deflationary spiral they might not recover from.

‘If this continues, our honor and pride will be shattered beyond repair,’ the Valthorin leader fumed in silence, barely able to contain his rage as he listened to accusations hurled by leaders who once bowed their heads in his presence. ‘If I ever find the one responsible for this humiliation, I’ll skin them alive for what they’ve done to us.’

It was a bitter truth, sometimes the most painful wounds come from those you once considered beneath you. And now, he was feeling every cut.

‘The only way this could be happening the way they’re accusing us… is if there’s a coordinated faction made up of members from each of our civilizations, people in powerful positions who can act without alerting the rest of us,’ the Zelovera leader reasoned, trying to wrap his head around the scale of deception that would be required.

‘But I’m certain no such group exists in my government. Or… could they be so deeply embedded that I’ve overlooked them entirely?’ He immediately dismissed the idea. For the Zelovera, such a conspiracy was almost impossible. Their mental network ensured that intentions and major decisions were always transparent to those with access. Any traitor of that magnitude would be uncovered before they ever reached that level of influence.

Still, as the voice of reason in many past debates, he knew it was his responsibility to bring clarity before things spiraled beyond repair. He began quietly compiling arguments to steer the discussion back to logic.

Meanwhile, the Shadari leader had a very different reaction. ‘Why the hell are our ships visible at all?’ he thought, frowning. ‘They perform best under active stealth. Who leaves stealth vessels exposed to such primitive sensors while attacking? That’s either incompetence or deliberate misdirection.’

Rather than obsessing over the accusations, his mind focused on the inconsistencies. ‘If there were video footage instead of just still images, it would’ve been easier to demonstrate that those ships, while styled like ours, don’t move or behave anything like actual Shadari vessels. They’re imitations, not ours. So should I speak up now… or let the chaos grow?’ He leaned back, expression unreadable. After all, unlike the others, the Shadari thrived in disorder. If the Conclave shattered, they’d be among the few to profit from the fallout.

All across the top fifty, the leaders were lost in thought, some trying to uncover who might be sabotaging them from within, others trying to determine who was framing them from without. But all shared one growing concern: how to prove they weren’t behind the attacks… and how to stop the Conclave from collapsing under the weight of fear and suspicion.

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