The sky grew dark as the overwhelming force the reinforcements of the Galactic Empire represented entered the atmosphere.

Six hundred fighting jets specialized in devasting enemy aircraft—additionally, three orbiters, heavily armored ball-like objects used to coordinate the enormous army and scan for suspicious activities and enemy troops alike. It was only a matter of time before the orbiters detected the settlement of the Galactic Federation.

"General, we have spotted the enemy camp. They fortified Scaria even further. What are your orders?"

"We attack them head-on. I will personally lead the charge."

"As you wish, Sir."

One day and three hours after the discourse with General Randov (Galactic Empire), the colossal swarm of ships flew in an orderly fashion towards Scaria, which is protected by its plasma barrier. It won't last long against the concentrated fire of six hundred aircraft, though.

"First wave, attack!"

Chief Commander Reymon ordered.

One hundred aircraft hovering above in the clouds as silently as possible gave up their cover and exited the clouds right above the Empire's massive swarm of ships.

"We are under attack!"

A pilot from the Empire's left flank cried out as their numbers were getting decimated through the full onslaught. The coordinated assault from the Federation kept flying straight down, shooting as much as they could while at it. Only when they were about to collide with the ground did the pilots turn their machines straight and went for a full retreat in the opposite direction of Scaria. This massacre only took twenty seconds.

It took ten more seconds for the command chain of the Empire to recover from the attack.

"Chase them!" an angry voice bellowed in the voice comms of every single pilot.

The fear-inducing monstrosity that this army is quickly turned their ships and started to chase their victim. The army recorded losses of about sixty ships, but such a carelessness won't happen them again.

The morale was heavily damaged after such a devasting attack, but the rage and a target to vent it on helped quickly replenishing it. Also, the overwhelming numbers assure that morale stays high enough so that the fleet can probably function. It seems like the Empire is overkilling it with the amount of forces they send, but in reality, they know how cable their enemies are and spared no expense to assure the success of the mission.

Since they achieved a significant victory on the galaxy's left side, they can allow their right flank more breathing room.

The armada chased after the Federation's tactical retreating fleet like bloodhounds having their meal snatched right under their nose.

The units of the Federation orderly split into five fleets, each flying slightly in another direction.

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"Split up and chase them!"

General Randov (Galactic Empire) ordered.

The colossal swarm split up into five fleets, each varying in size.

The smallest group consisting of eighty jets chased the twenty retreating pilots with great furiousness.

The fleeing pilots entered a tight canyon, only three jets wide.

The twenty units effortlessly grouped into an orderly line.

The forces of the Empire slowed down while organizing their units to fit in the tight canyon.

Two minutes into the chase, the leader of the Empire's fleet got a bad feeling.

"Fall back, guys. I have a terrible feeling about this. Let's get out of this god-forsaken canyon!" The leading Commander ordered.

But it was already too late.

Suddenly the eerily quiet and dark canyon awoke to life. A hundred lights suddenly appeared all over the canyon, hidden behind bushes, in holes, and at the top.

"Fuck! This is an ambush! Diamond defensive formation, orderly retreat together!" The leading Commander yelled, frustration evident in his voice.

How could he miss something so obvious?! If I manage to survive this shit, I will surely get stripped of my titles, when not worse.

He thought.

The massive swarm of Empire aircraft arranged themselves shoulder to shoulder, 90 percent of their energy on their shields.

The ambush of the Federation did not wait for them to organize and opened fire with great ferocity.

The Empire's ships were able to withstand the initial attack and managed to organize, but their ships already lost a third of their energy reserves. They orderly flew slowly backward while maintaining their tight formation. One perk of such a formation is that you only have to use energy on one part of the ship since they are protected through their comrades on the other sides. This allows a very energy-efficient defense for the cost of mobility and attacking capabilities.

"Focus your fire on one aircraft at a time. Your Lieutenants will choose which to focus." Commander Miller (Galactic Federation) ordered.

The vast diamond formation slowly proceeded to back out of the pitch-black canyon. Whenever a unit exploded because of the Federation's concentrated fire, a new one quickly replaced it. Their numbers were dwindling rapidly, but they will live to see another day, at least that is what the Empire's pilots thought.

Just one more turn, and they will be able to escape this hellish place.

They took the final turn, way too relieved even though their comrades die left and right. Their relief quickly transformed into despair as a loud rumble echoed through the canyon. The Empire's pilots watched in horror as huge boulders of rooks fell down, covering nearly the whole exit.

Morale dropped to an all-time low, and the pilots started desperately looking around for a way out of certain death. In extreme cases, the destroyed units' replacement at the front line slowed down or stopped even entirely.

"Hold your ground and reinforce!" The Empire's leading Commander desperately tried to control his troops.

Any resemblance of a command chain was lost, and everyone was fending for themselves.

"Calm down, guys, you can celebrate later. Stay vigilant and don't take unnecessary risks. No point in dying because of carelessness." Commander Miller placated his celebrating pilots.

From the initially eighty Empire aircraft, only three barely escaped.

"General, fleet four here. We have been ambushed..."

"Who are you?" The General interrupted the shacky voice.

"I'm the highest-ranked surviving pilot, Lieutenant William Schmidt, Sir."

"What do you mean 'highest-ranked surviving pilot'? Where is commander Michele?" The General asked in an angry voice.

William Schmidt gulped hard, "He is dead, Sir. I and two others are the only leftovers of our fleet."

"Immediately report in detail what happened."

The General ordered in a much calmer voice.

"Great job, soldiers!" Commander Miller gratulated his pilots.

"Sadly, we have no time to celebrate. Some enemies managed to escape, which means we have to get away from here as soon as possible. We will hide at the next ambush location and wait for another overconfident commander. Those who are too damaged to continue fighting try to reach Scaria and enter the city while they are chasing our decoy fleet. If you can't enter it, you are on your own. The best of luck, soldiers."