Gallipalan, Temporary Presidential Mansion.
With a gentle sound, two six-meter-tall arched relief wooden doors were pushed open by the guards standing on either side.
Commander of the Newton Local Fleet, Vice Admiral Markey, strode into the room.
The spacious room was well-lit. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting patches of gold on the white walls. A single piece of red and white-patterned Casmar Cashmere Carpet covered the entire room, which spanned an area of five hundred square meters.
At the other end of the carpet, President Flavio stood quietly beside the filing cabinet.
"What did Fiscella say?" Flavio's voice echoed under the high dome.
"Mr. President." Markey, his hair slightly graying, walked up to Flavio, stood at attention, saluted, glanced at the now-closed doors, and replied, "Fiscella refused to accept our Command Department's suggestion."
Flavio nodded. This outcome did not surprise him.
