Chapter 217: The Shield of Sol - From Idler to Tech Tycoon: Earth - NovelsTime

From Idler to Tech Tycoon: Earth

Chapter 217: The Shield of Sol

Author: Solar_Exile
updatedAt: 2025-08-23

CHAPTER 217: CHAPTER 217: THE SHIELD OF SOL

"We may not be gods, but we are no longer prey."

On Mars, the red dust stirred. Not from wind, but from power. A surface hatch, miles away from the main TRC base, slowly opened. From its depths, the TRC’s Praetorian Paladin division began to pour out. These weren’t infantry. These were mechas. Bipedal war machines, towering and silent, designed for space and planetary assault. Their armor, yellow and a streak of black, an iconic theme for Terran Retribution Command. Each one hummed with contained power, optimized for zero-G combat and hostile environments.

Just above Mars orbit, a colossal ship materialized from warp space. It was the TRC’s own capital ship, the dreadnought Apocalypse. Its hull, a striking blue and white, gleamed under the Martian sun. A massive, blue-white mecha, clearly a command unit, clung to its side, a silent sentinel, it was the Prometheus X-19. The Apocalypse was slightly bigger than the Arcships, a true titan of war. It featured a long, integrated warp cannon rail running almost its entire length, capable of firing devastating energy blasts across astronomical distances. Beyond its primary weapon, it boasted extensive carrier features, able to accommodate five million crew members and countless fighter squadrons.

Across the solar system, other defenses stirred. The planetary defense arrays on Mars, huge railguns and energy cannons, slowly turned. Their massive barrels locked onto the Dragon’s general location at the Oort Cloud. On Luna, the newly activated defense grid, powered by Richard’s recent evolution, began to glow faintly.

More fleets materialized. Warp signatures flared as UEDCC and TRC ships, called to full alert, warped towards Admiral Yamada’s fleet at the Oort Cloud. They formed a layered defense. Even more fleets positioned themselves in between the asteroid belt and Mars, creating a formidable inner perimeter. The sheer number of ships was staggering, a metallic swarm ready to defend their home.

The public and the internet already knew about it. News feeds, though heavily censored by the UEDCC, couldn’t hide the sheer scale of the military buildup. Images of the Apocalypse, of the hundreds of warships, flooded every screen. There was a mix of concern, of course, but mostly, people were hyped.

@SolarSentinel: "HOLY CRAP! THE APOCALYPSE IS REAL! WE’RE NOT ALONE! #TRC #HumanityStrong"

@SpaceMom: "My kids saw the ships. They’re scared, but also... proud. Is this what we’ve become? A war machine?"

@TechGeek_Prime: "This truly showcases TRC’s superior industrial working. Their superior automated manufacturing really showcased the number of ships appearing and working with UEDCC, has built an armada in months. Unbelievable. We’re a force now."

@MemeLord_V2: (Image of the Apocalypse with ’COME AT ME, BRO’ text, next to a tiny, confused Krill Dragon)

The sight of the TRC’s flagship and the massive number of ships gave them hope. It truly showcased humanity’s industrial might, forged in the crucible of the Krill War.

Then, suddenly, a large wormhole appeared just above the UEDCC’s main headquarters on the Moon. It was a controlled tear, but immense. From it emerged the UEDCC’s own flagship, the USS Da Vinci

. It was a dreadnought carrier, similar in design to the TRC’s Apocalypse, but three times bigger. Its hull, striking silver and navy, gleamed. It boasted its own dedicated weapon systems, a mobile fortress. Only Richard and a few UEDCC council members and high-ranking military officials truly knew the secret location where these colossal ships were built, hidden deep within gas giant atmospheres or hollowed-out asteroids. It was humanity’s hidden ace.

@StarGazer_22: "WAIT, WHAT IS THAT?! ANOTHER ONE?! BIGGER?! IS THAT THE UEDCC FLAGSHIP?! HOLY F***!"

@ConspiracyTheorist: "They’ve been hiding these! For how long?! What else are they keeping from us?! #DeepState #SecretFleet"

@GamerTag_Epic: "The Da Vinci is real! My god, it’s like a level boss just spawned in! This is the most epic boss fight ever! #SolDefense #BringItOn"

@HistoryBuff: "Named after Da Vinci. The ultimate symbol of human ingenuity. Fitting. We’re not just fighting, we’re innovating. #RenaissanceInSpace"

@OptimistPrime: "Two titans! Two flagships! This isn’t just defense, this is a statement! Humanity is ready! #UnitedFront #WeGotThis"

Meanwhile, Fleet Admiral Kukul’kan’s fleet, stealthed and cloaked, hovered just away from the Oort Cloud asteroid belt. They were observing. Their advanced sensors, designed to detect even the faintest energy signatures, were working overtime.

All the ship captains and everyone on the bridge of the Shkru’Malhu, including Kukul’kan himself, were utterly shocked by what they saw. Sure enough, the golden dragon was there, a terrifying presence. But it was nothing compared to these humans. Their fleet was massive. Layers of warships, dreadnoughts, carriers, all bristling with weapons.

Kukul’kan’s four eyes widened. His scales, usually smooth, seemed to prickle. He muttered, almost to himself, "Primitives they say." He gulped, a dry, rasping sound in his throat. He trembled, a tremor running through his multi-jointed limbs. "This isn’t the power of the primitive."

He turned to his comms officer, a young Xylosian. "Send a tight beam to the Grand Admiral. Priority one. Encrypted burst. Send reinforcements. We need to make sure we’re not staring at the ends of their barrel. We need to make them our ally. This is an opportunity, not a threat... yet."

The comms officer, still stunned by the human display of force, hesitated. "Admiral?"

Kukul’kan roared, his voice cracking with urgency. "Do it now! Before they spot us!"

The comms officer, startled, snapped to attention. "Yes, Admiral! Transmitting now!"

His XO, a seasoned Rigelian, stepped forward. "Admiral, what are we going to do now? If they detect us..."

Kukul’kan’s mind raced. If we join the fight, half of my fleet, or worse, all of us, will be eliminated. But it would secure an alliance with these ’primitive’ species, if we can even call them primitives. This power... it’s unprecedented. But if I don’t do something, I will be demoted for not acting on this great opportunity. Minaro will have my head.

Then, his comms officer’s voice cut through his thoughts. "Admiral! We’re receiving an encrypted transmission! Its origins are unknown! It bypassed our stealth protocols!"

Kukul’kan cursed. Shit! Impossible! Who could have found us? Is it them? But that’s impossible! Our fleet is equipped with the latest Federation stealth tech, no one except a few council members knows it exists! How is this even possible? His fear became palpable.

He forced himself to calm. "Accept it. On main screen. Let’s see what they have to say."

The main screen flickered. A visual appeared. It was dimly lit with red ambient lights. Figures dressed in dark, sleek power armor stood in formation. A silver logo of a demon was emblazoned on their chests. The Ordo Infernalis.

The comms officer gasped. "Sir, our data is being hijacked! They’re accessing our internal systems!"

Then, a voice. It was deep, unsettling, and perfectly translated into their own Federation language. "Attention! This is the Decarabian. You are trespassing human space! State your identity and intentions! You have thirty seconds to answer or prepare to be boarded. Resistance is futile." The visual flickered, then disappeared.

Kukul’kan’s fear was palpable. His scales felt cold. I didn’t know humans are capable of such things to this degree. Their signatures don’t even appear. There’s no one close to us. There’s just dust and space.

Then suddenly, they saw it. A very dark, almost invisible ship appeared a distance away from them. It was visible only for a moment, a faint shimmer as its cloaking field transitioned. If it wasn’t for that brief flicker, they wouldn’t have spotted it.

A bridge officer spat. "That’s impossible! They’re not even visible on the radar! It’s a ghost!"

Then the dark ship, the Decarabian, cloaked again, and disappeared from their view, leaving nothing but empty space.

Kukul’kan hurriedly asked the comms officer. "Is the transmission cut off? Did they get anything from our data core? Any sensitive information?"

The comms officer, still trembling, reported. "No, sir. The transmission is still there. They only scoured through our language database. They didn’t touch anything else. They just... left the channel open."

Kukul’kan gritted his teeth. He had to play this carefully. "Hook me up. I want to talk to them." He activated his comms. "Decarabian, this is the Shkru’Malhu. I am Fleet Admiral Kukul’kan of the Federation of Planets. We spotted this system due its high energy fluctuation, and we’re merely observing and passing by. No hostile intent."

The visual reappeared. The figures in dark armor were still there, silent, menacing. The deep voice spoke again. "This is your first and your last warning. We would appreciate if you didn’t lie. You are currently within an active tactical operations zone. For your safety, and for diplomatic intentions, we request you alter course and vacate the area immediately. Final warning: this is a restricted tactical zone. Failure to comply will be interpreted as a hostile act. If you do not vacate this space immediately, you will be fired upon and destroyed. You have ten seconds to respond."

Kukul’kan gritted his teeth. He was cornered. If they weren’t spotted by them, he would have acted the part of a saving grace, offering alliance. But now he had no choice but to leave. If the Federation wanted to engage in a cordial diplomacy with them, it would have to be on human terms. He replied, his voice strained but steady. "Acknowledged, Decarabian. We are altering course and vacating the zone immediately. No aggression intended. We will await diplomatic clearance outside the conflict radius. Standing by."

The transmission cut off. The visual vanished.

Kukul’kan slammed his fist on his console. "Signal the fleet—course change, 273 mark 4. Make it tight and fast. Full power to engines! Get us out of here!" He sighed, a deep, frustrated sound. I will have to report this as mission failure. He knew the political fallout would be immense. Anything other than that would escalate tensions very fast with these humans’ temper. They are not to be underestimated. He had seen enough. These weren’t primitives. They were a sleeping giant, now wide awake, and armed to the teeth.

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