"The fleet is spread out as it is," Portok sighed, looking at the holographic display of the planet. "If the Arthanians decide to attack, we'll only keep them at bay for so long."
"And if the Iikro has access to Jerosh's memories, the Govek will know each of strategies," Renkan added, waiting for Figanti to say something.
The leader of the League said nothing as he looked over the number of dreadnoughts, cruisers, fighters and available Loki'irians. They'd managed to salvage what remained of the destroyed ships, but it would only be enough for another set of cruisers or an army of fighters. Neither seemed to be a beneficial alternative, since they would need enough firepower to take on whatever the horde threw at them. Not to mention that they didn't have enough hangars for either.
"Figanti," Gengot, a master tactician, said. "What do you want us to do?"
He exhaled quietly, grabbing the projections of ships and arranging them as he saw fit. "We'll need to focus our people over the major cities and continents," Figanti told them. "The Signa will need to be directly over the capitols to defend them when necessary, and as for the rest—"
"Uncle." The League each turned to the door, looking to the Doshu'um as he leaned against his cousin for support.
"Reku'un," Figanti whispered, rushing over to hug his nephew. "You should be resting—"
"Uncle." Draco pulled Figanti back to give him an assuring smile. "Don't you think my mother would have said as much?"
His uncle shook his head with a small laugh, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "And I assume you'd tell me what you told her," Figanti said. "But still, your wounds need to heal properly. This time is different than your training."
"I know, Uncle… I know," Draco murmured, repressing the knowledge of their casualties. "But I had to come and speak to you about the war."
Figanti put a hand up before he could go any further. "We've lost too many to even consider an assault," he told him, gesturing to the holographic display behind them. "We're going to have to stay here… and do our best to protect this planet—"
"We have to attack."
The others looked at him with surprised and doubtful looks, as if he had grown a second head. "What?" Figanti softly gasped. "Reku'un, we have only a handful of dreadnoughts to use, several hundred cruisers, and only a few thousand fighters. We won't survive if we—"
Draco pushed past his uncle and went to the projection. He grasped handful of ships, pulling fleet after fleet around the globe as he rearranged their formations and locations. When he was done, a massive portion of their armada was above Equestria, while several dreadnoughts were spread over every other nation.
"The Iikro will come for me… it knows I'm the biggest threat to it," Draco began, pointing to Canterlot. "And it knows you'll all be here to make sure I survive. That means it'll send a majority of the horde in an all out assault to get me; Govek and all."
He enhanced the display of Canterlot, making it the main display as he finitely moved the ships in the area.
"We'll need most of our people here, including the Signa," Draco told them. "So they'll be funneling in by the thousands… and that means they MUST have their portals open to keep their onslaught going. And a large portion of their army will be coming from their homeworld."
The others watched as Draco pulled four dreadnoughts to the top of the mountain.
"We can turn the Vegdor into a mounted cannon," he said, earning several shocked expressions and a few subtle gasps. "When the portal to their homeworld opens… we can fire a shot directly through it, then finish the battle. And from there… we can finally win this war."
Each member of the League glanced toward one another, unsure if they would survive long enough to even calibrate the cannon and fire through the designated portal.
"It'll require each of our powers to be at their fullest," Gengot laughed, a maniacal gleam in his eye. "We'll all need to enter the third stage of Ina at some point. And the others might need to as well… it will be the greatest mortal battle the universe has ever seen."
Moon was surprised to see their looks of doubt and reluctance morph to determination and eagerness. Figanti looked to each of his closest friends and allies, each of them nodding with smiles. His own expression eventually shifted as he sighed, then laughed before turning to his nephew.
"Do you expect to survive?"
It was a question any Makti was asked, what they were asked before being traditionally named as such. Draco would never know what it meant, or why his uncle had asked. He only assumed why, as all his ancestors had done before him.
"Not at all."
Figanti turned to the League, then glanced to the holo-display. "We should get the word out, then," he chuckled. Draco glanced down to Moon, who gave him a firm nod and supportive smile. "Reku'un… when you heal completely, you'll need to train immediately. Once your Ina bond is strong, and your maturity passes, you'll be at your strongest."
He nodded knowingly, reaching out and putting his right hand on his uncle's left shoulder. "Just help me through it… alright?" He laughed.
His uncle smiled with a small shake of his head. "That is what I'm here for," Figanti laughed, nudging Draco in his injured arm. "Now get some… actually…" He turned to Moon, who didn't understand why until he realized the Signa was smirking.
"Draco… there's someone you should see," Moon said. Draco was confused for a moment before he understood.
At least, he thought he understood.
"Ember's still in the castle, right?" Draco questioned.
"Yes. Follow me," Moon told him, trotting out the door with his cousin.
Draco followed eagerly, oblivious to the new scent alongside Ember's.