Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 897, page 08.896: 'Faxia's 'Adopted Sister'

Horatio's voice, clear and loud, resonated through the ship's loudspeakers in the massive hangar of the light cruiser "Rising Feather"—a quality essential to every Imperial Navy captain.

He stood on the high reviewing corridor, looking down at the neat formation of people in black flight suits below.

"I am your new commander, High Lord Colonel Horatio Cochrane."

Soldiers, pilots, and servants of the emperor.

Look at the void beneath your feet. It is hostile. It tries to erode your will, corrupt your courage, and suffocate you with its endless cold and darkness. But do not hate it. Understand it. For cruelty and ruthlessness are the very nature of this dark forest.

It tells us that in this galaxy, there is no peace, no tranquility, only eternal war.

The wise know fear but do not succumb to it. And you, 'Night Witches,' will bring your enemies one last moment of terror.

Below, the female aviators from Valhalla proudly raised their heads, their gazes piercing through the dimness of the hangar, looking directly at the tall, imposing figure above, who seemed like a god.

His voice was so loud that it could be clearly heard even in the most remote corner of the hangar, and his majestic tone exuded an inspiring power, like the sound of ancient Terran war drums.

"You may feel tired, or you may question the meaning of this endless struggle."

When this thought gnaws at you, remember why you are fighting.

You are not fighting for this cold void, nor for those long-forgotten glories.

You fight for the God-Emperor! It is His will that has saved the human empire from darkness.

It is His thoughts that illuminate our path through the void.

We are with the Emperor, and our souls are united with His will.

He made the ultimate sacrifice for humanity ten thousand years ago, and our sacrifice today is a response to His great work.

Cochrane's gaze swept over the group of men in black standing solemnly.

"Imperial Navy 588th and 587th Bombardment Groups, these are your numbers on the Ministry of Military Affairs roster."

But your enemies will not call you that anymore. Those aliens, traitors, and heretics, in their desperate prayers and dying cries, will call you by another name. They will call you—'Night Witches'!

His voice suddenly rose to a high pitch, like thunder!
“They will say your engines are the midnight death knell! They will say your bombs are judgment from the heavens! They will say that in the deepest darkness, when all hope has been extinguished, you will descend from the sky, bringing fire and destruction! They are right!”

"I hereby bestow upon you a sacred duty in the name of the fleet commander and the supreme lord of the Gothic Fleet, Colonel."

Your targets are not just the enemy's fortresses and war machines.

What you need to purify are the unclean things that reside in our world.

It is a lair of aliens, an altar of traitors, a breeding ground for heresy! Every bomb you drop will be the Emperor's wrath; every sea of ​​fire you ignite will be the final judgment against the enemies of humanity!

"I will not promise you victory, much less survival."

In this war, the survival of an individual is meaningless.

What I promise you is something more precious than life itself—honor and sacrifice.

In the cold void, only these two are eternal.

When your time comes, when you fall in flames and glory, do not grieve.

For you will hear the call. You will see the road paved with the souls of countless heroes, leading straight to the side of the Emperor's throne.

You will join their ranks, and take your rightful place in the halls of eternal heroism. Your name will be sung in praise, and your names will be remembered!

The man raised his large hand, his final words as hard as granite.

"In the name of the Emperor, let the night tremble before you! Let the darkness burn for you! Be loyal to the great Lord of mankind!"

"To be loyal to the great Lord of mankind!"

His response was a unified roar, the voices of hundreds of female pilots merging into a torrent of steel, echoing throughout the hangar and lingering for a long time.
-
After the review ceremony, Horatio arrived at the bridge of the HMS Rising Feather. This was the warship's nerve center, filled with the deep hum of machinery and the cold light of the flashing tactical displays.

He briefly briefed Captain Sterling and the ship's officers on the upcoming mission, allowing them to see the legendary Spier Bloodline in person.

However, today, the brilliance of Horatio Cochrane's name itself is gradually overshadowing the glory of his ancestors.

He is becoming a rising star, and he no longer needs to rely on the name "Spiel Bloodline" to be known throughout half of the Imperial Navy's star system.

After a brief but thorough discussion, the final mission was clear: the 'Rising Feather' would rely on the excellent mobility of its air wing to provide wide-area coverage for reconnaissance and surveillance for the entire RX-0371 escort convoy.

An escort ship can only scan one area of ​​airspace at a time, while a single carrier-based aircraft can cover nearly half of that area.

Given their far greater numbers and maneuverability than escort ships, these eyes are capable of monitoring every crevice of the entire escort fleet, like a swarm of vigilant worker bees guarding their hive.

Once a threat is detected, a signal is given, and the entire fleet will unleash its thunderous fury upon charging toward the enemy.

Just as Horatio finished handing over the instructions and was about to walk from the elevator platform to the connecting passage below, Anya Farshade walked towards him.

She moved with a languid air, exuding the exotic charm unique to the Taran desert world, casually draping her arm over the shoulder of a fair-skinned female officer beside her.

The female officer was none other than the aviation captain standing at the very front during the inspection, Natalia Reza Mecklin.

“Little~Captain~, oh no, you’re not little at all now,” Farshall drawled, winking mischievously, “Let me introduce you to my sister, Natalia Leisa Mecklin.”

Horatio raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Your sister? I remember you joined the Imperial Navy alone." A smile played on his lips as he wondered what tricks this always mischievous Taran girl was up to this time.

“Well, to be precise, she’s my ‘adopted sister’.” Fasha’s joking expression softened. “Although Valhalla is close to the Gothic Sector, it’s still part of the Extreme Star Region. Her sister and I were both outstanding graduates of the same flight school. We trained at the Karl-Duniyash Aviation School in the Extreme Star Region, and back then we fought tooth and nail for the top spot.”

Well, after graduation, the college assigned us all the honorary title of 'Chief'. I went to the interceptor squadron, and her sister went to the bomber squadron. From then on, we went our separate ways and never saw each other again.

"Then how did she become your 'adopted sister'?" Horatio smiled, turning his gaze to the female officer who stood in stark contrast to Fasha.

She stood upright, her expression reserved and serious, but beneath her furrowed brows, a hint of melancholy and shyness beyond her years was unmistakable.

Fasha sighed softly: "Well, although her sister is my rival in academic competition, we are also very good friends in private."

She made a promise to me, entrusting me with the care of her loved ones whom she couldn't bear to leave behind.

If anything happens to her, let me be her sister's older sister.

"In other words..." Horatio roughly guessed why the girl's brows were always furrowed, as if shrouded in a dark cloud.

“You know, the casualty rate in bombing squadrons is very high.” Fasha’s voice lowered as she carefully chose her words, mindful of the girl’s feelings. “Her sister was killed in a bombing mission… and never returned.”

Although her body wasn't found at the scene, the fire was so intense, and there were no signs of ejection or parachuting…

She didn't utter the cruel phrase "burnt to ashes".

“In short,” Fasha quickly composed himself and patted Natalia on the shoulder, “Natalia Leisa Mecklin is a good pilot and has had several experiences in void combat while in the planetary defense forces.”

Although they were a temporary air squadron formed from the planetary defense forces, and had previously flown even modified agricultural aircraft, they had completed the Imperial Navy's standard training at the Karl-Duniyash Aviation School and participated in several military operations.

Although they'll need a few more years of practice to catch up with me, they're already sharp swords beginning to show their edge.

“It’s a pleasure to work with you, Captain.” Horatio turned to the Valhalla girl in front of him and gave her a solemn military salute. “I am also honored to serve as the commander of the ‘Night Witches’.”

Prepare yourselves. Upon reaching the Whirlwind Line, you will join us in the fiery inferno of hell, serving as an anvil to withstand the enemy's relentless assault until they are utterly destroyed.

Although Natalia was dressed in a full, crisp military uniform, wearing a Valhalla cap and black boots, and the medals on her chest made her look meticulous, Horatio judged from her reserved manner of returning the greeting that she was essentially still a naive girl.

But it doesn't matter.

In the dark and cruel universe of the 41st millennium, the word 'gender difference' has long been erased by the bloody battlefields and endless sacrifices.

(End of this chapter)