"Sir, the last maintenance of the fighter plane before takeoff has been completed."
Marcel Albert did not answer the human servant. He was already familiar with the form and content of the man's words.
He had been staring closely at the machine parked on the tarmac in front of him. The polished metal shell shone in the flashing red light of the cave hangar, and the Angel Wings logo with blood drops was spray-painted on the wings and tail.
superior.
"We die with honor for those we hold dear."
Albert chanted softly, his fighter's engines began to light up, and the air around him began to sing.
"Worthy of the blood of Sanguinius."
A servitor unplugged the cable connected to the rear of the fighter. Tech-priests in copper-colored robes walked around the fighter, flicking the holy oil with their brass fingers.
A skilled ground crew followed behind the Tech-Priest, retracting the weapons' temporary blocking plates and closing the open inspection panels everywhere.
Marcel Albert slowly walked towards the fighter plane, stepped into the cockpit, and connected the interface on the back of the power armor to the fighter plane's system.
Fighter had fully woken up, and he felt the nerve connection process tingling his spine.
The pain in muscles and bones was like steel, weapons and flesh were forcibly blended together, and the surging power of the fighter turned into a pushing sensation on his back. He took a breath, feeling like he was complete.
He was piloting a swordtail interceptor, a conventional flying vehicle used by the Legiones Astartes during the Great Crusade.
Unlike other fighter jets, the pilots of tail swords are not mortals, but Astartes.
Swordtail is able to fly in the atmosphere and space, and is equipped with two twin laser cannons and a set of missile launchers. Her firepower and speed make her a very deadly opponent.
However, the design of the sword tail is very complicated and the range is limited, so the Adeptus Mechanicus is not optimistic about them compared to the Legion of Astartes, and the latter prefers the larger Fury fighter.
Therefore, on the eve of the end of the Great Crusade, except for the Dark Angels and Ultramarines, almost all Legions' Swordtails retired from the front lines, but later due to the threat of rebellion, many Legions were forced to send them back to the battlefield.
After the second founding of the army, this veteran eventually disappeared into the arsenals of the Astartes.
But the Mother of Tears has always maintained a swordtail formation in its hangar.
During the long battle, this formation gradually suffered losses, and the complex structure of the sword tail meant that once it was damaged on the battlefield, there was almost no possibility of repair, and only usable parts could be disassembled.
To this day, there is only one combat-ready swordtail interceptor left in the hangar.
Marcel Albert is also the only remaining tail sword pilot in the Chapter. It has been more than a hundred years since he took over this veteran who has been around for thousands of years from his mentor.
He has become one with it in a sense.
Like Marcel Albert, it has its own unique name - Eidolon.
The name comes from a melancholy verse from Baal folk, as it goes through.
But now, it has an additional identity - the leader of the Baal's Light Squadron.
Marcel Albert unhooked the helmet from his legs, put it on his head, and then slowly closed the top canopy.
Yellow lights began to flash in the hangar cave, and shrill sirens joined the chorus of fighter engines.
He closed his eyes, and rough green lines began to appear in the right silver prosthetic eye that had been replaced thirty years ago.
Then he opened his eyes, and the green projection intertwined with the real world, and runes indicating status flashed in his cockpit system.
Many people compare the Astartes to knights, but in Marcel Albert's view, this is a kind of ignorance and blind faith.
In the long time since the Heresy, people have forgotten the essence of the Astartes - they are actually highly specialized soldiers, and wielding swords and swords is only a small part of their art of war.
In the past, they were all masters of war machines, riding various steel beasts across the battlefield.
But since the second founding of the army, such scenes have become very rare.
"All flying units."
He called through the communication channel.
"Preparations for flight are complete, countdown, boys."
Numbers circulated at the edge of the field of vision, external blast doors opened, metal barriers lowered to the ground, and pulses of red light loomed in the darkness in the distance.
Marcel Albert increased the thrust, and the Eidolon began to take off.
On the other side of the tarmac, 16 war machines also took off one after another, half of which were Lightning-class fighters and half of which were Fury-class attack aircraft. All of them were bright yellow.
This is a full flight squadron dispatch, but it is only sufficient in number.
The enemies outnumber them.
"Heading, 76-12-12, standby,"
"Is this a gloomy evening, sir?"
His wingman greeted him informally, but Albert ignored it, although his lips hidden in the shadows curved into a smile.
"Determine mission mode."
Albert called the flight tower.
"Headquarters, here is the Baal's Light Squadron, waiting for permission to attack."
The static noise rang for a while, and the decreasing countdown quickly dropped to zero.
"Light of Baal Squadron, permission to attack."
Came the voice of an officer, a man who would track Albert's flight data, matching it to countless movements around the fleet.
"receive."
Albert replied in a deep voice, and then switched to another channel.
"All weapons activated."
The amber weapon runes turned green, fixing the engine output at a peak value, and the fighter plane beneath him began to shake.
The countdown is zero.
Eidolon surged forward, and Albert exhaled a breath of air from his lungs.
Barriers in the void and laser beams greeted him from the front. Albert drove the interceptor off the flight deck and flew onto the back of the battleship.
Behind him, the squadron's fighter jets also flew out of the open hole, their afterburners spraying out streams of blue flames.
Not long after he flew into the combat zone, Albert was locked by the enemy's fire control system, the alarm began to sound, and the traces of tracer bullets and the flames of explosions boiled in the void.
He activated the countermeasures system, and the decoy bombs exploded in their wake.
Albert then controlled the fighter plane and climbed upward in a spiral manner, with his wingman following closely behind, maintaining a perfect formation.
The other fighters in the squadron dispersed after flying out of the flight deck, spinning continuously in the blooming light.
In the void, the artillery fire from both sides was intertwined, and even the asteroids and meteorites were dyed with a different color.
The back of the Mother of Tears is like undulating mountains, with the turrets built in it gleaming with firelight, and the sea of light is also mixed with the light of small weapons.
The battlefield was very chaotic. Albert led the squadron to quickly shuttle to the front of the Mother of Tears and intercept a group of bombers.
He will keep fighting until there are no enemies in front of him, and his life will not stop and he will fight endlessly.
Facing the interceptor squadron attacking at high speed, the bulky bombers staggered and tried to evade, but were immediately slaughtered by lasers and missiles.
"Enemy interceptors are incoming!"
Just as Albert destroyed a bomber with a series of bursts of fire, the wingman pilot's voice suddenly sounded.
Subconsciously, Albert immediately reversed direction, and the fighter plane was like an arrow leaving the bowstring.
The oriole screamed that it was locked, red runes flashed in front of the eyes, and the fire of the autocannon lit up the night sky.
"To the left!"
Albert worked hard to get the Eidolon out of the spiral, increase the horsepower, and the fuel warning immediately turned amber.
The sudden acceleration made him enter a semi-weightless state. From the half-machine, half-flesh eyes, he could see that his people had been following him, drawing unique trajectories, and the shells exploded behind them.
So does the enemy.
The red mark is attacking from both directions, but he and his men will get rid of the enemy.
After Albert's deduction, if his people can achieve their goals, they will definitely succeed.
"Oops--"
Suddenly, the wingman pilot's voice stopped abruptly on the communication channel.
Albert's augur also made a short, sharp sound.
A missile swooped down from above, hit the wingman, and instantly burst into flames.
Albert twitched instinctively and moved aside, avoiding the laser that could have hit him.
A fighter plane appeared above his head, and the moment his eyes met, Albert recognized it. It was also a sword-tail interceptor, but it had a blasphemous eight-pointed star symbol on its wings.