Getting a Technology System in Modern Day - Chapter 936 - 936: A CRISIS

A silent, blinding flash erupted on the main viewscreen, a star being born and dying in the space of a millisecond. The Elara admiral froze, his hand halfway to his chin. He turned his gaze to the tactical display, but before he could even focus, the feed switched, showing a live, horrifying image from the planet’s surface. A massive mushroom cloud was still climbing into the sky, its shadow spreading like a stain, consuming kilometers of land with each passing second.

“Admiral, an explosion—” the communications officer began, her voice tight with shock.

“I can see that,” the admiral snapped, cutting her off. His voice was a low growl of suppressed rage. “Give me the information I *can’t* see. I am not blind.” In that single, searing moment, he saw his career flash before his eyes. The assured promotion, the prestige, the honor, all of it was vaporizing, turning to ash in the face of this catastrophe.

“Yes, sir,” the officer replied, her professionalism a steady anchor in the sudden chaos. She overlaid a schematic on the viewscreen, a red pulse marking the epicenter of the blast. “The explosion originated in one of the sectors we were prohibited from scanning. The planetary government assured us the area was secure.”

The admiral’s mind, which had been reeling from the shock, snapped back into focus. The time for rage would come later. Now was the time for command. “Order all scanner ships to immediately survey the previously restricted zones. I want every inch of this planet mapped. Deploy damage assessment teams and begin search and rescue operations. I want a full air blockade; no vessel takes off without our explicit permission. Any ship currently in the air is to be grounded at the nearest safe location. All patrol wings are to go to level one alert. I want to know if so much as a rock moves in this system without our say-so.”

He dished out the orders with a speed and precision born of years of training, his mind a supercomputer processing the unfolding disaster and formulating responses.

“Anyone who resists these orders is to be arrested for investigation. If they resist arrest, you are authorized to respond with appropriate force. As of this moment, we are assuming full command of all remaining planetary forces. Their leadership has failed. Their compliance is not optional.” He paused, his mind racing, searching for any detail he might have missed. “And one more thing. None of this is to be reported back to high command until we have a complete picture of the situation. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the communications officer responded, already relaying his commands, her fingers flying across her console.

As she worked, the admiral allowed himself a moment of private, internal meltdown.

‘Thank the stars I sent that idiot down there,’ was his first, shamefully selfish thought. If not for Kaelen’s outburst, he would have been at the heart of that blast. But survival came with a price. He was alive, yes, but he was also the one who would have to answer for this. The loss of a high-ranking officer, the destruction on the ground, the sheer incompetence of it all, it would all land on his shoulders.

*FUCK! How do I explain this? How did a bomb of that magnitude get past our initial scans? How do I frame this in a way that doesn’t end my career?*

He could tell the truth, of course. He could report that the local government had restricted their scans, that they had given assurances of safety. But that would be seen as weakness, an admission that a top-ten civilization had allowed itself to be dictated to by a lesser power. It would be an embarrassment. He could report that he had sent his assistant to his death, but that would only make him look reckless and foolish.

‘No. The only way out of this is to find something bigger. Something that makes this disaster look like a footnote.’

The thought materialized in his mind, sharp and clear. He turned back to the communications officer. “Tell the analysis teams to comb through every byte of scanned data. I want anything that could point to the identity of our enemy. I don’t care how small, how insignificant it seems. Find it.” He brought up the data feed on his own console, his eyes scanning the streams of information, hunting for a miracle.

Because it was either a miracle or he would have to fabricate evidence to save himself, but the latter was more of a dream than something he could do.

……………………While the admiral wrestled with his political survival, the Elara fleet operated like a single, well-oiled machine. Trained for precisely this kind of emergency, the moment the orders were issued, they moved like a single, massive organism. Scanner ships moved to map the forbidden zones, their powerful sensors peeling back the layers of the planet’s secrets. Within minutes, they found it: a second bomb, identical to the first, armed and waiting. A targeted EMP strike neutralized it instantly.

Simultaneously, other teams descended to the planet, stormed government buildings, seizing control of planetary infrastructure and placing all remaining leaders under lockdown, both for their safety and to prevent obstruction. The chaos was just beginning to spread, but their swift response kept it from snowballing into full panic. Medical and military personnel flooded into ground zero, deploying from the sky in coordinated waves. Rescue teams retrieved survivors. Medics triaged the injured. AI-assisted bots identified and tagged debris for recovery, while forensic units swept the blast site for traces of enemy tech.

It was a symphony of practiced efficiency. While one team diffused the bomb, another was already whisking it away for analysis, a priceless piece of the invaders’ technological DNA. Another team combed through the sensor data, flagging every fragment of destroyed enemy equipment for collection. Piece by piece, they were assembling a profile of their unseen enemy. Even if they didn’t find a name, they would have a technological signature, a ghost they could hunt across the entire Conclave.

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