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"Admiral, I do so very much hate having to repeat myself." The gray and blue dragon was calm as he said this, but the threat was very much apparent.

"Y-Yes, sir. I'll send someone right away, sir."

"That won't be necessary, Admiral. I will see to the matter personally."

"But, sir-"

"Admiral, I suggest you get your hearing checked soon," the other dragon interrupted, using the same voice. "I'd hate for you to make a mistake while following an order because you couldn't hear it very well."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

"Very good, Admiral Shiva. I am entrusting my affairs to you, and I expect you to keep General Zaar in line while I am gone. If there is a dispute, you are to handle the situation as I would. Other than that, you are to wait for orders upon my return. I trust that you can do all of this, Admiral?"

The dragoness stiffened and straightened her posture, raising her paw to salute her superior. "Yes, sir!" she shouted.

"Excellent. Carry on," he said as he began to exit the room.

"Thank you, Commander Kalin, sir!"

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Christina sat in the meeting hall, listening to a bunch of spoiled, fat furs fuss to each other about this and that, while playing with some of the curls from her ebony mane. The young unicorn princess was bored out of her mind. She knew that she would have to do this kind of thing when she inherited the throne, but why did it have to be so boring? She let out a huff in annoyance.

The unicorn stallion sitting next to her, her father and king (and thankfully not one of the spoiled, fat furs that were busy squabbling), heard her and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You might as well get used to it. In less than a year, you'll have to do this all by yourself." He said this in a teasing tone and they both shared a snicker at his joke.

It was true, unfortunately. In less than a year, she would have to marry and ascend to the throne as Queen of Unicorpia, land of the unicorns. She didn't really want to be the queen, but she looked forward to doing the best she could in serving the furs of her country. She really didn't look forward to marrying someone she'd never met, and didn't love, either, but she tried not to think about that. Her father assured her that the unicorn stallion she was promised to would make a fine mate.

"Yes, I fear that this does not bode well for us. If the dragons are expanding beyond the Mountains of Fire, then it is only a matter of time before they reach the Great Plain." The tubby lion with the ridiculously large, golden crown said this while rubbing his chin, making a few bits of old food fall from his mane onto his robe. He sat in a high-backed, pseudo-throne (as did most of the other furs in the room) signifying his position as king of Felin, home of the cats. He was sitting at a large round table, where the other leaders of the various furry races of the Great Plain were convened.

The small rodent on the other side of the table, directly across from Christina and her father, however, did not agree. "But my spies confirmed that the government of Reptilia struck some sort of deal with the dragons and allowed the country's annexation into Drakor."

"You think I'd be willing to trust anything that came out of the mouth of vermin like you?!" The lion retorted. His disrespect was not without its reason; Felin had every right to be distressed. The dragons lived in a cluster of about 15 volcanoes, called the Mountains of Fire, at the southwest edge of the Great Plain (which took up the eastern part of the continent). Reptilia, where the reptiles could be found, shared their border with the dragons; it was barren and rocky, due to the nearby volcanoes, and its main exports were gold, silver, and precious gems mined from deep in the ground. Since Reptilia's annexation (or takeover, as the lion king believed), Felin is probably next in line to be taken since they were neighbors.

"And we are supposed to trust you instead? You do nothing but deepen your assprint upon your throne and grow fat while your country is threatened and your furs cower in fear!" The rat king squeaked (though it was probably meant to be a shout), letting anger at the lion's insult cloud his etiquette.

"How dare-" The lion stood up, ready to give the rodent an earful (when he did so, his large belly jiggled and Christina did all she could not to burst out laughing), but was interrupted by the equally tubby wolf who slammed his chubby fists on the table and shouted "Enough!"

Thankfully, both of the raging parties quieted down. The wolf, Alpha Kon of Canida, continued to speak. "Now then, I for one am inclined to trust Lord Sael's (referring to the rat) assessment of the situation. Since he is so far from the threat, he has no reason to lie about its nature and nothing to gain from doing so. Additionally, his forces are renowned for excelling in espionage." Canida also shared a small portion of its border with what used to be Reptilia, so it wasn't like his borders weren't threatened either.

Christina's father decided to speak up at this point. "I would have to agree. I think we should trust Lord Sael's information. We should also try to resolve this matter as peacefully as possible. Violence will not solve this matter."

"Of course you would say that, Elron! You unicorns always want to tuck your tail between your legs when things get rough!" said a non-unicorn stallion across the table, for no apparent reason.

What Christina thought was weird was that the stallion that spoke wasn't the one sitting in the make-shift throne; a mare about the same age as Christina was. The stallion was probably a noble or advisor that was still bitter about how the unicorns broke away from Equestrion when they refused to support Equestrion's dealings in petty squabbles and wars between the various furry nations, taking their precious silk trade with them. The young mare turned to the stallion and meekly tried to protest his outburst and get him to apologize. The stallion, however, wouldn't take back his words and whispered something inaudible to the young mare. The mare was blushing and seemed uncomfortable with his words, and now that Christina thought about it, the mare had seemed uncomfortable since she'd sat down, as though she was too shy and timid to speak up and assert herself. Christina felt sorry for the poor mare; if she was that timid, then the furs of her country would walk all over her.

Christina both hated and admired her father for not responding to the insult. She hated that he wouldn't stand up and defend his honor, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. His position as king was not set in stone; he could be dethroned at any time. It wasn't really an all-powerful position anyway. It mostly meant that you were the Chairman of the Horned Council, the real governing body of Unicorpia. Furthermore, Unicorpia is a new and peaceful nation, full of peaceful furs; it doesn't even have a military. He couldn't really afford to offend the leaders of other nations and risk the safety of the entire country.

ROAAAAAAARRRRR!!!!!!!!

The mighty sound ripped through the meeting hall and it was so loud that the table shook, knocking off a few wine glasses. All of the furs in the room covered their ears as they felt their bodies vibrate from the intensity of the sound.

And then it was quiet. With their heart thumping in their bodies and thundering in their ears, they slowly lowered their paws, almost too afraid to even do that.

THUD!

It was the equivalent of dropping a building on the ground. The ground shook underneath them and the walls rattled around them. Whatever that creature was, it was undoubtedly massive, with a pair of iron lungs to boot.

Then the doors opened and all eyes turned to a lone figure as it strode across the room. It was obviously draconic. It had a pair of large wings and a long, thick tail behind it, waving about as if the owner didn't give much thought to it. The figure took its time crossing the obnoxiously large meeting hall, as it obviously wasn't in a hurry since the meeting started over an hour ago.

There was a rattling sound coming from the ceiling not far from the table where the frightened furs sat. All eyes turned to the sound when a giant pair of jaws with a complete set of monstrously sharp, white teeth appeared and bit off a large chunk of the ceiling like it was made of cake. The maw of the monster was replaced by two large, white-scaled paws with long, curved talons. The creature attached to the paws pushed downwards and a huge section of the wall crumpled into a pile of bits and pieces like it was made of cardboard. The creature finally stepped into view, and the effect was more frightening than if it hadn't.

The large, feral dragon was covered in ivory scales, as if fashioned from snow. The drake's long, pink tongue moved around its lips (probably trying to get rid of the small pieces of the wall) and flicked across teeth bigger than Christina's forearm. Each one looked sharp enough to bite through steel, so it was no wonder the dragon was able to bite through the wall like it was butter. Horns erupted out of the back of its draconic head and they curved and protruded in various ways, looking just as sharp as its teeth. Its neck was long and dexterous, connected to a massive torso. The creature's torso was devoid of any fat and the chubby belly that riddled feral dragon lore was nowhere in sight. There was just pure, thick, sinewy muscle along with the creature's four muscular legs with curved, sharp talons. The spines that ran along its neck, back, and tail looked more like vertebrae than spikes and the trail didn't end until close to the end of its long, thick tail. It was only interrupted by a saddle for the smaller dragon where the ivory beast's neck connected to its torso. Enormous wings sprouted from its back; even though the creature was massive, those giant, ivory wings would have no trouble holding it aloft high above the ground.

By now, the furries at the table were shaking in their boots and Christina was pretty sure that some poor fur had passed out. The strong stench of urine indicated that a few had pissed themselves, too. But the anthro dragon that entered through the door didn't seem the least bit frightened.

"Dammit, Rhiza! I better not have to pay for that!" The dragon's voice was obviously male. He made an exasperated sound and moved his paw to his muzzle in a gesture similar to pinching the bridge of a human nose. The humongous white dragon, who took up the entirety of the hole it made in the wall, merely plopped down on its belly with a vehement THUD and grunted, seemingly not interested in the prospect. With a sigh, the dragon moved forward the rest of the way to the meeting table.

"Well then. I'm glad to see that you're all here in one place. Makes it much easier on me." As the dragon said this, his frightening counterpart moved its ivory head toward the smaller dragon and he moved his hand under the large muzzle, using his claws to idly scratch the scales there. The huge drake murred, obviously like the attention, and let out a puff of thick, white smoke through its nostrils (there was a plop sound as another fur fainted). When the smoke drifted toward Christina, she wondered why it was cold. Freezing, actually.

"And just *gulp* who are you exactly?" The chubby lion asked, still afraid and unsure of himself. The looks of the other furries in the room seemed to mirror the lion's curiosity, though they were still too afraid to speak up. No one seemed to have the courage to bring up the fact that they were just discussing the dragons. That poor timid mare look liked she'd seen a ghost and Christina felt a surge of respect for her that she hadn't passed out and was trying to put on a brave face.

The gray and blue dragon grinned and with that simple act, his entire demeanor changed. Maybe it was the presentation of his own set of sharp, flesh-tearing teeth or maybe it was the gleam in his icy-blue, reptilian eyes? Christina wasn't quite sure she could put a name on it, but something was different about the dragon now.

"My name is Kalin, and I'm the Commander of Drakor's military." He gestured to the beast beside him with his free paw. "This is my war-drakon, Rhiza. Sorry about your wall by the way; she doesn't like to wait outside." The white drakon curled her lip, exposing several deadly teeth, and growled deep in her throat, the very suggestion of waiting outside like some common house pet angering her. The furries in the room all cowered at the sound, fearing for their lives for a moment, but Kalin merely stood there, observing and lazily scratching the scales under Rhiza's jaw.

With this new piece of information available, Christina studied the dragon closely. The dragon's chest was gray but the scales on the rest of his body were much darker in hue. All over his body there were dark blue lines arcing, zigging, and zagging across his body, making them look like blue lightning strikes. Twin horns jutted from the back of his roughly triangular head. He certainly didn't look like a higher-up military scalie. In fact, the only article of clothing he wore was a simple pair of black, mid-calf length combat training pants. He was obviously no stranger to exercise; his torso was chiseled and the way the light reflected off of his dark scales only augmented his muscle definition. He didn't even look that old; certainly not much older than herself, although, dragons might age more gracefully than furries. She'd heard many rumors about the different aspects of dragons and their culture, but she suspected they were mostly hearsay since dragons were not prone on venturing past their volcanic borders. The only real indicator that he was telling the truth was the way he carried himself. He stood tall, calm, and collected. Obviously confident in himself even though he just busted through, uninvited, to a meeting of the leaders of the furry world, though she couldn't really see how he wouldn't be. He was petting a drakon, who would have no problem eating any of the furries in the room in a single bite, like it was a damn housecat! Even so, Christina had a nagging suspicion that his confidence didn't come from the drakon beside him.

"And just what have you come here for, exactly?" The fat lion continued, seeming to get some of his confidence back.

"Hmm..." The dragon, Kalin, seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts, as if he hadn't given much thought to what he was actually here to say. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for all of you. And then I have a request, or maybe it's something along the lines of an ultimatum."

His words hung in the air for a few seconds while the furries present digested the meaning behind them.

"You think you can just waltz in here with your monster, threaten us, and expect us to-"

The dragon interrupted the wolf, which was probably a good thing; else he might have gone too far and might have been eaten. The calm manner of the dragon seemed to disappear at the wolf's tone and insinuation.

"I have come here to say what I will, and whether or not the threat is necessary is up to you furries. And you would do well not to insult Rhiza, dog. Else she might be a bit heavier on our way home." While he spoke his tail lashed, making a loud crack akin to the sound of a whip. The wolf seemed to blanch and realize just what he said when the ivory drakon's hungry gaze landed solely upon him and a growl erupted from her throat. The dragon's words were laced with venom and he took a moment to glare at the wolf with contempt. "A great bit heavier in your case," Kalin added as an afterthought.

It seemed the wolf decided to bite his tongue and quit while he was still ahead (or while he still had a head). The room fell quiet as the furries realized that the dragon was not one to be intimated or trifled with.

The dragon inhaled deeply as he collected himself and restrained his anger. "Now then, I suppose I need to start with the bad news, as that will set the mood of the real reason that I have come here. As we all know, orcs are the only known creatures that can withstand the toxic fumes emitted in the Badlands to the west. It has come to Drakor's attention that they have started an aggressive breeding campaign. As far as we know, with their growth hormone therapy, they can raise a fully mature orc in a mere two weeks. We've speculated that their numbers have probably grown from maybe one hundred or so to several thousand and it will only continue to rise. The only logical goal for this is to overrun all of the nations in the Great Plain. To dominate, enslave, or simply destroy the entire continent. They will raise an army so large, that no one country could stand against them and they will overtake us with sheer numbers. The only drawback of their breeding is that the new orcs don't have the mental capacity for intelligent thought. In short, they are mindless, killing machines. Each new orc will be completely dependent on their clan's war chief. We think that the mastermind behind this plan is an extremely powerful and intelligent war chief that has either forced or coerced the other clans to cooperate."

The room once again fell silent as the information sunk in. Domination? Enslavement?

Destruction?

"He spills nothing but lies!" The lion broke the silence with his angered voice. "The very notion that the orcs could have banded together is preposterous! An intelligent orc? Bah! The orcs are so idiotic that they couldn't come up with an intelligent thought if it was whispered into their filthy ears! Plus, the clans are so divided that they couldn't share a meal together, much less work with each other to take over the continent!"

"FOOL!" Kalin shouted, consumed by annoyance and radiated malice; he slammed his paws on the table to accent his outburst. "Would I even be here were it not the truth?!"

The room quieted once more as the dragon's words sunk in. The dragons had never bothered with the affairs of the furries. They were content in their isolation in the Mountains of Fire, and the furries weren't eager to draw them out, mostly out of fear because so much was unknown about them.

"You need our help." Everyone's eyes turned to a buck, representative of the non-equestrian hooved furries (they also took in species that didn't fit anywhere else, such as elephants and hippos). The buck hadn't spoken since the meeting started and the furry leaders were surprised that he decided that now was the time to speak up. "That's the real reason why you're here: to ask for help. That's also why Drakor annexed Reptilia; they agreed to help you in fighting the orcs."

If looks could kill, that buck would be less than a pile of ashes. It was obvious that the buck was right. It was also obvious that Kalin was no fan of the truth, as if coming to them for help was worse than having to eat his own toes. He looked over at his war-drakon and seemed to think better of ordering her to eat the buck. He visibly began to reign in his anger and when he spoke, it was as if he wasn't angry at all. "You're partially right. Yes, I have come to acquire help, but I'm not asking for it. I'm demanding it. Either you willingly agree to aid us in annihilating this threat, as Reptilia did, or we will seize your country by force and use your resources anyway. It will require the cooperation of everyone on this continent to defeat the orcs, so there is no other option. I will not risk the continuation of my country because a bunch of idiotic furries could not cooperate." There was no joke in the dragon's words; it was plain as day that he meant what he said.

As one would expect, the furry leaders didn't take this new bit of information so well. The room flooded with the noise of complaints from all over the table. Chief among which was, unsurprisingly, the lion.

"You cannot expect us to agree to these terms! Either we hand our countries over willing or you take them?! Ludicrous! Ridiculous! You have spouted nothing but insanity since the moment you entered this hall! If you are arrogant enough to think that you take all of us by force, then dragons are even madder than the rumors say! This is just a poor excuse for dragons to take what doesn't belong to them. Well, I can tell you now, that I will never hand my crown to the likes of you!"

"I do not need arrogance to know that your forces would not stand a chance against us. I have been to all of your so called 'nations.' I have seen the corruption of your Halls, the degradation of your military might, and the complete incompetence of your leadership! You all have bathed in the lap of luxury while your nations wither and die!"

The rodent king stood up, a mixture of defiance and anger apparent on his muzzle. "You have come here to do nothing but bully us into submission using your beast and harsh words. We shall not be intimidated by brutish thugs, such as you!"

"It would behoove you, pest, to hold your tongue and be thankful I'm giving your kind a chance at all! Else I might use them all as drakon food!"

"I've had enough of this!" The fat lion shouted, anger seeping through his voice. He turned to a beefy tiger guard standing behind him, "Seize him, so that I may end his web of lies myself!"

Rhiza, the war-drakon, moved to attack, but Kalin stopped her with a gesture. He didn't need her to deal with this "threat."

The tiger, who probably outweighed Kalin by at least fifty or so pounds of pure muscle, charged while Kalin merely waited where he stood. The tiger leaned his torso down, aiming to grab the dragon's waist. The kick to the tiger's muzzle was so quick, Christina only saw a blur of gray before the crack of the tiger's now-broken nose reached her ears. The force of the blow not only halted the tiger's momentum, but also forced him upright and back a couple steps. Instinctively, the tiger moved to clutch his broken muzzle, the blood starting to trail down his orange fur, but before he could get over his shock Kalin's tail began to move. Two coil's around the tiger's head was more than enough and, after a quick jerk from the tail, the sound of the tiger's neck being broken like a twig weaved through the deathly quiet meeting hall. The tiger's lifeless body slumped to the ground. Kalin didn't seem at all phased by taking a life. The ivory drakon moved its large muzzle over to the tiger's corpse, tossed it up in the air, and the entire room watched the small bump move down the beast's throat into her stomach. Since the furries were all staring wide-eyed, everyone missed Kalin mutter something about "damn hairballs in my lair for a week."

No one wanted to even breathe after that.

Christina's father, the brave fur that he was, was never one to bow to violence and intimidation. So Christina wasn't surprised when he was the one to break the silence. "Why were you sent and not Lord Rantan? Last I knew he was king of the dragons."

"You mean my father?" Kalin sneered. It was obvious that he was no fan of his father. "He is of little importance to any of you, or anyone for that matter."

"Why you insolent, ungrateful-" Elron started. If there was one thing he hated more than bloodshed, it was children that didn't appreciate the sacrifices of parenthood.

"Ungrateful?!" Kalin shouted. "You ignorant donkey! You dare to call me ungrateful for my father?!"

Elron started to open his mouth, not liking one bit of being called names, but it appeared that the dragon was on a roll.

"My father hated me from the day I hatched! When I was a mere four years old, he cast me out of the palace and into the streets! For four years I suffered without a home or any of its comforts. Then I found Rhiza as a hatchling, abandoned by the military for her unusually small size, her inability to breathe fire and for being the only white drakon ever to exist; a freak and an eyesore, an outcast like me. It was then that I decided that I wouldn't be tied down by my father's curse any longer. I joined the military not two moons later. They laughed at me, but allowed me to take care of the war-drakons. It was dangerous work and the military often lost recruits from it, but at least I had money for food and was able to properly care for Rhiza. I would train until I collapsed every night, using what I saw during the day. My father did everything he could to stop my rise to power, but that only filled me with more determination. Eleven years later found me as the leader of the entire Drakorian military and Rhiza as the most fearsome drakon in Drakorian history. I took the crown from my father's head and cast him out of the palace myself. I made him watch as my forces tore the palace apart and cast the pieces into the magma of the Mountains of Fire. He was an incompetent leader and, not unlike all of you, was handed his position by his own father instead of earning it. He chose to ignore the cries of his people for his own selfish reasons. I had him thrown in prison to wallow and rot in his misery and failure, never to see the light of day again. I seized control of the rest of the corrupt government and restructured it from the bottom up into the superpower it is today. So tell me, unicorn, what do you pampered cream-puffs know of ungrateful?"

The dragon was panting and his eyes rabid. His entire posture was aggressive: wings spread to make him appear larger, tail lashing about, and sharp teeth prominently displayed. His unwavering gaze upon Christina's father was frightening to say the least; she'd almost rather the drakon focus on him. Elron backed down and looked away from that terrible gaze, full of hatred and destruction. The other furries were too afraid to even look at him after his long, heated outburst. Even Kalin's steed seemed to be concerned. She made a weird grumbling noise that might have been worried and licked the dragon. He took in a deep breath and then it was as if his speech never happened.

"My time grows thin and my patience even more so. All of you have a fortnight to decide upon this matter. If you wish to accept my mercy, then control of your country and all of its resources are to be turned over to Drakor (Christina really didn't like the gleam in his eye as he said that). Your governments and militaries will need to be restructured in preparation for war. After the allotted time has passed, my armies will begin to march across the Great Plain. If you have accepted, then you have nothing to fear." Kalin's glare turned cold and unforgiving as he surveyed the gathered furries. "If a message is not received, then my armies will be authorized to use deadly force to seize control of your government and it will not be pretty, I can guarantee you of that." His gaze then turned to the overweight lion, as if he knew that the lion would never agree to his terms. He pointed a clawed finger at the lion and his fanged grin was feral and condescending. "Starting with Felin."

With that last cryptic message, the dragon climbed onto his war-drakon and with a giant FWOOSH, the room was blasted with a gale of wind from the drakon's wings (knocking several furries over from the gust). The drakon flew out of the hole in the wall and the pair disappeared from sight.