Eric looked around, taking note of who was in the room. "Where’s the president?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Milano sighed and looked up from his notebook. "The president has given us operational independence. He has told me that whatever decisions made here will be briefed to him on a seperate occasion. From there, the US will submit it’s own proposal, and we will meet again to address the proposal."

Eric stared at Milano blankly.

"Are those assholes serious? We just took a fucking city in the Cartharic Empire. If we sit here while Congress sucks its own thumb, Cartharic will have the advantage."

Eric blinked before looking at the map. "Sir-"

Milano held his hand up. "Save it for later, Master Sergeant. We will save all concerns for after the meeting."

Miher ignored Eric’s interjection while tracing the map with a marker. He circled a large area East of Dresken.

"This is the port city of Nedoria." He said while putting the marker back into his notebook.

"Intelligence and Surveillance assets discovered cargo ships setting sail from it. We ordered recon flights to track the cargo ships. After one week of flights, we discovered those ships delivered large structures that appeared to be part of a fortress. Our Intelligence worked alongside with Riemskin intelligence to assume that these parts are being manufactured and disseminated from the city of Nedoria."

He slid pictures to each member of the council.

Dragon King Tryasche took a picture with raised eyebrows. As he scanned the document, his eyes widened. A tear ran down his eye.

"Is this real?" He growled, his eyes glowing and body shaking. Mana rolled off him in waves, and Felicity ran up, hugging him. "Father! Restrain yourself. There are mortals here!" Her own mana began surrounding the soldiers barely able to stand, protecting them.

Tryasche clenched his fists and closed his eyes.

"You are right, Felicity." The mana dissappeared slowly, and the soldiers sighed in relief. Miher looked up at Trysasche.

"Your Majesty, do you know something about this?"

Tryasche nodded, his finger pointing to one of the pictures. "It is unmistakable. Three hundred years ago, my nation was attacked by three air fairing machines. Each was the size of a fortress. One machine alone was enough to destroy our capital. Because of the mana suppression circles, we were forced to flee. That day... will always scar me. I apologize." He said, his last words coming out through sharp breaths.

"Many of my people died that day, and those of us that survived are the few in number you have met."

To the right of Tryasche, the Dwarf king stared at the picture, his own fist clenching. "Aye. What the Dragon King said is true. My people were taken as slaves to build these. I know them well..."

His voice trembled as his face darkened.

"The Consortium Ark."

Eric folded his arms across his chest and looked at the pictures. To his left, Michael was staring intently at the map, mumbling to himself. Eric noticed the captain’s clenched fists.

Across from him, Tryasche had a sorrowful look, his eyes were distant as he continued to study the picture. The soldiers in the room were staring warily at the Dragon King, and one soldier was gripping his weapon tightly.

Eric narrowed his eyes. "You there."

The soldier jumped, turning to Eric. "Yes, Master Sergeant?"

"Go to the Staff Duty desk and replace the runner."

The soldier looked up. "But..."

Eric shook his head. "I will not tell you again."

"Roger."

The soldier left, leaving the room more oppressive than before. Milano pursed his lips, staring intently at the map. "We need to figure out where the staging area is." He grumbled.

He looked up at Eric.

"Dryer."

Eric met Milano’s glare. "Yes sir?"

"Where are Ricky and the team?"

Eric sighed. "The last I heard, they were in Austin, sir. They said something to the magnitude of ’don’t bother us until something worth our time pops up’."

Milano rubbed his face with the palm of his hand. "Tell them to head to Brishan city. We need to know where these Arks are being staged."

Eric began writing notes, his hand trembling slightly. "Yes sir."

Milano then turned to the intelligence section commander. "I want all our assets to continue following any ships coming out of Nedoria. Try to see where they take the parts, and if we see any evidence of Cartharic building the Ark."

Miher looked up, making eye contact with Eric. "Master Sergeant, you are not to join Ricky and the team this time around. You will stay here and help us plan."

Eric nodded. "Yes sir."

Tryasche looked up. "Otherworlders, you have told me that you have many more powerful assets back in your home country. The assets you have now cannot take down a Consortium Ark. In my prime, one breath of mine could destroy an entire city. Even weakened by the mana suppression circle, my mana alone could crush a fortress. Listen well, otherworlders..."

His voice trailed off as his finger traced a small area on the world map, his eyes heavy with sorrow.

"The Ark that destroyed my country’s capital was able to absorb my breath with very little damage. It has shields made of mana. It has a strange mana absorbent hull. It’s walls are thicker than the thickest of steal. It’s ammo is powerful enough to level mountains. What hope do you have to destroy it?"

Milano looked down at his spreadsheet. His fingers traced along the rows that counted ammunition, personnel, and equipment.

"He said that his breath could destroy a city. So elder dragons possess similar power to that of a nuke?"

He thought back to what he had learned of cities in this world. King Remory and him had discussed the various sizes of each city, with Riemskin being roughly the size of Fort Hood in area and a population matching that of a city like Corpus Christi.

"Your Majesty. Do not fret." He said as he looked up from the spreadsheet. "Our power doesn’t just come from destruction. We have logistics and projection of force. I do not doubt your claims. I believe them wholeheartedly. But I assure you, we will do our best to take out this Consortium Arc. If one bomb doesn’t do it, we will send hundreds. The Arks will fall, your Majesty."

Milano’s eyes burned with vengeance. "And you will be there to help us. Your people have saved my people since we began to work together. Now, it is time for us to help you pay the empire back for it’s crimes."

Tryasche rubbed his wrists as if they were sore with ant bites before meeting Milano’s gaze. "General Milano, I have the upmost respect for your power, and the will of your men. The valor your soldiers show when confronted with stacked odds and overwhelming numbers has proven your courage. This is not something you can overtake with just us dragons and your weapons. I have seen them in action, General."

Milano shook his head. "Your Majesty, you misunderstand. There are still assets we have that we have used very little of. There are weapons that can crack the shields of the Ark. I would rather fight it with everything we have under that belief, than to give up now and roll over. We live to fight another day, or we die trying."

Tryasche looked into Milano’s eyes, and for the first time since seeing the picture, he smiled. "I see. Your eyes do not show me a man whom wishes to die. Your eyes say that you wish to find a way to live. I understand now. If that is your will, far be it from me to argue further. Us dragons will assist you, as always. We will either live free, or die free.

The two shared a nod, and Milano once more pulled out reports.

"Okay, in order to take this Ark out, we need to find out any potential weaknesses. Dryer. You take charge of that. Get in contact with Ricky and have the team infiltrate Brishian city. See if they find anything."

Eric nodded after taking a few notes.

"Yes sir."

He looked out the window to the motorpool. Tanks were lined up next to the front gate. Behind them, he saw the last two remaining Apaches.

"Don’t worry, Apache pilots. Soon, you might be needed."

Milano then looked to the Dwarf King. "King Stronmam, do you have any ideas for weaknesses on the Consortium Ark?"

Stronman looked at the other pictures on the middle of his desk. "A few, General." He said as he held one of the pictures up. "The mana cores on each vessel not only provide power to steer them, but also for the barrier. If you are able to overload the system, you can cause the cores to shut down."

Tryasche looked at the Dwarf king, his dead eyes showing signs of life again. "How much power is needed to do so though?"

The Dwarf king shook his head. "Dragon King, to my knowledge, no country, entity, creed, nor race has been able to do so."