After a week of navigation utilizing spatial jumps across the empire's military outposts, the fleet emerged at the coordinates of the border base. Below, atop the black stone fortifications, massive banners bearing the Golden Eye crest fluttered in the wind. However, within the fortress's docks, not a single imperial cruiser or vessel was to be seen; the place appeared deserted.
The moment the White-SeaDragon crossed the dimensional portal followed by the hundreds of frigates in the fleet, the base's sirens blared with a shriek.
Observing the chaos, Ethan stood on the command bridge, his brow furrowed.
"Vaelen, are we in the right place?" asked Ethan.
"Indeed, General," Vaelen replied, checking the tactical readouts. "We are at the exact coordinates indicated."
"General, we are under fire!" bellowed the artillery officer.
BOOM! BOOM!
