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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: 1343967322113.jpg-(260 KB, 600x795, 1335252455042.jpg)
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You are a pilot of the 501st Joint Fighter Squadron, and you're currently watching a Martian Cruiser trying to evade a full salvo of 14-inch shells from a big, big battleship.

As you observe, the Martian cruiser suddenly, violently spins in the water, rotating 180 degrees within its own length in an incredible display of maneuverability. The huge shell splashes are getting closer as the Martian reverses course and leaves a huge, foaming wake as it tries to get the fuck out of there.

"Ghostrider to surface ship, Ghostrider to surface ship, you are on-target with bracketing salvos," Sean has the presence of mind to radio, broadband. You, on the other hand, are too busy watching the business end of a can of asswhup being opened.
>>
No panzers here
>>
Something about Panzer.
>>
>>20157466
Don't just stand there! Do... SOMETHING!
>>
NO PANZERS ALLOWED.
>>
>>20157466

Whelp. Time to land.

Turnaround checks pls.
>>
>>20157466
>14-inch
So, either a KGV, or one of the interwar Yank designs. New Mexico, or something?
>>
Holy shit, a live thread. Is this real life?
>>
>>20157520
This is thread 2 mah boy
>>
Its the California, isn't it?
>>
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>>20157520
No, this is just fantasy.
>>
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>>20157486
>>20157488
>>20157510
Honk honk mother fuckers
>>
>>20157571

ARE YOU A TONK?
>>
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oooh pretty explosions
>>
>>20157540
Probably. That said, given this is British waters, I would have preferred one of the KGVs making an appearance. Or a Nelson.
>>
>>20157571
That man. On the tank.

His badassery is incredible, if impractical. I like him.
>>
File: 1343968015230.png-(1.78 MB, 1200x850, Battleline.png)
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>>20157466
So, do we get to stick around and watch the battleships duke it out? Do we?
>>
>>20157658
This is a war, not an after dinner show. Cut the gawking and let's get reamed,refueled, and figure out what the hell just happened.
>>
>>20157692
Who says it can't be both? We can act as a spotter, allowing them more accurate fire, and thus a faster sunk enemy ship.
>>
Only REAL battleship is the Battleship Texas.
>>
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Watching the distant battleship, you see it's dim grey line suddenly widen, and straining your eyes in the typical English overcast gloom, you can see it's turning hard, presenting its full side... the entire ship vanishes in quick sequences of muzzle flashes, and you turn your ship on her wingtip, watching the Martian ships below you who've ceased firing at you to execute hard evasives.

Below, the sea vanishes in a cloud of towering splashes and flame. The Martian Cruiser takes two direct hits, spits in half, and vanishes in a horrendous explosion. Your Widow bucks and shakes with the violence as the shockwave hits you. You blink, shaking your head as the eerie black-light afterimages of a detonating Martian power-plant mask your vision, worse then you've ever seen before.

"USS California to Ghostrider," a voice calls in the radio with dry amusement. "Are we still on?"

"Well," you say philosophically, "a few chunks haven't landed yet."

There's a mad laughter on the radio, and then silence.

Your group flies on, making for the developing furball over Castle Barin, bringing your fighters to 100% power as you approach, wanting to enter with as much smash as possible.

"There's something else in the water," Robin comments.

"What, seriously?"

"Yeah!" she insists. "They're hard to see, but they're there!"

>Maintain altitude
>Investigate watery contacts
>Other?
>>
>>20157732
>Investigate watery contacts
>>
File: 1343968392258.png-(836 KB, 1024x768, Submarine.png)
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>>20157732
Time to investigate methinks.
>>
>>20157732
>Investigate watery contacts, but be quick about it.
>>
>>20157732
>Investigate watery contacts
May be good to investigate this one
>>
>>20157732
>Investigate watery contacts

They scratched our back, time to scratch theirs.
>>
>>20157732
>Investigate
If we can give advance warning of a potential watery sneak attack, that's a very good thing.
>>
>>20157732
>spits in half

This isn't some sort of pilot or sailor lingo I'm missing, right?
>>
>>20157732
Send the witches down for a closer look. They can fudge around with altitudes better than us, and have shields.
>>
>>20157732
>Investigate watery contacts
Fuck, more Martian subs?
>>
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>>20157732
>something else in the water

Time for our dear sister to shoot her first helpless Martian.

Or for use to strafe survivors for the first time. Either or.
>>
>Mention something about an inverted strafing run to Sean
>>
>>20157732

Fly into the AA...

I mean investigate!
>>
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>>20157781

It totally is. Read up mang!
>>
>>20157732

INVESTIGATE. No other option.
>>
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>>20157842
Oh you.
>>
>>20157732
>Subs

Remember when I wrote about subs?

Investigate.
>>
>>20157732
>>20157732
Lets go see what up and under da sea
>>
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>>20157879
nobody reads your quest
>>
>>20157924
I read my quest.
>>
>>20157930

What is your quest about, Kotters? More fapfiction?
>>
>>20157930
Didn't you say that anybody who reads your quest is a nobody, thus you are a nobody because you read your own quest?
>>
rolled 17 = 17

I read Kotter's quest.
>>
>>20157958
Maybe.

>>20157950
Definitely not subs, though I did get the witches part right.
>>
>>20157974
LIAR nobody does
>>
>>20157981
Kotters can I make a request?
>>
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"I'm going to have a look," you say. "They're pretty close to the California."

"With ME!" Robin exclaims defensively, hugging close to your wing. Genie gives a little snort, and you see Robin turn several shades of angry red at the unspoken insinuation.

You dive for the deck, hard, just in case the surface quibbles are hostile and feel like shooting.

They do. The contrails of rockets, full-sized and mini, begin zipping past as you pop your new dive-brakes and pull out at wavetop height. Although it's hard to tell with the overcast and the rain haze, you're sure the source is camouflaged Martian fast-attack boats.

You open your mouth to call a sighting and a warning, when you see the hints of motion in the dark waters and the little surges of foam as a line of attack boats breaks in two directions, hard.

And in the water, you see the tell-tale streaks of white contrails.

Torpedoes.

>WAT FUKKIN DO
>>
rolled 12 = 12

>>20157950
At this point, "Sub"witches is more about befriending an alien defector/head scientist, while keeping him safe from martian commandos who want his head-thing.

Also, something about a gargantuan multi-aircraft-carrier-sized underwater megabase and MacArthur being a giant phallus.
>>
>>20157999
Are you an attractive teenaged witch?
>>
>>20157924

b-b-but I do

Socks and Cookie is the best relationship ever.

>"Scroo yhou," Socks says dutifully.

Made my night mang
>>
>>20158004
SHOOT AT THEM NOW!
>>
>>20158004
Politely inform the California that they are about to get fucked
>>
>>20158004
Have Ian shoot the torpedoes.
>>
>>20158008
Im one of those things.
>>
>>20158004
What exactly is a P-61 usually expected to do against torpedoes?

Call 'em and gtfo.
>>
>>20158004
If the boats are being targeted, call the shots and spot for the shooter.
>>
>>20158035
shoot them!
>>
>>20158007
>and MacArthur being a giant phallus.

HISTORICAL ACCURACY
>>
>>20158004
Have Robin fly into the water and pick them up.

Trust me, it'll work. She shouldn't trip the magnetic detonators.
>>
>>20158004
Probably let the bigass target that it's getting shot at.

And then strafe those fucking things.
>>
>>20158004

Invert.

"Robin, Ian, one of you be a dear and shoot those torpedoes, please?"
>>
>>20158004
Warn the California. blast what we can were we can. Send the locations to the ship so that they may also partake.
>>
rolled 2 = 2

>>20158049
>Implying magnetic
>Not contact
Best be trollin' nigga.
>>
>>20158027
It was "Skroo yew"

>>20158034
...Proceed.

>>20158048
Even I do occasional research.

[nospoilers]fuckidontknowwhatimdoing[/nospoilers]
>>
>>20158049

Do we know how Martian Torpedoes work? I can't recall.
>>
>>20158004

Block them with Witches, bigger ordinance for confirmed kills.
>>
>>20158004
Invert over and give control of the turret to Ian.
Have him and Robin try to shoot those torpedoes.

Have Sean radio in a torpedo warning to the California; their Damage Control Teams need to get ready.
>>
File: 1343969707291.jpg-(139 KB, 500x666, industrial might.jpg)
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>And in the water, you see the tell-tale streaks of white contrails.

>Torpedoes.

It's ok guys we've all played freespace 2 right
>>
rolled 2 = 2

>>20158075
We've never dealt with them before. I'd say it's best to shoot them, because we don't know if they're contact fuse (Deadsister) or Mag-Fuse (Maybe deadsister)

That said, Rollan gunnery to shoot torpedophiles
>>
>>20158067
I would like a fap fiction based on the events of the original incest chicken. It takes place 10 years after the war in Alabama where we are married to our wife robin and have 6 kids with webbed toes and three eyes apiece.
>>
File: 1343969746559.jpg-(24 KB, 413x395, 1332206030889.jpg)
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>>20158100
>implying that it's not about to dance the Jitterbug
>>
>>20158100
>Implying Sean wont just be screaming at us
>>
I'm just going to stop rolling now.
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>>20158114
You're a freak.

You'll have to make due with Eila MC Relationship Chicken.
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>>20158004
Notify California of FUCKING TORPEDO SPREAD, strafe any small boats in area.
>>
>>20158104

but all you have is Prometheus-R

I once had a nightmare where bombs were heading for a ship full of everything I loved and all I had was Prometheus-R and ye olde Hornets

trufax
>>
>>20158104
Fucking hell yes we have, torpedoes ain't shit.
>>
>>20158124
thisismyfetish
>>
>>20158124
Can you sprinkle some Sanyan threesome in there?
>>
>>20158136
No.
>>
>>20158139
It was worth a shot.
>>
>>20158136

I write better fapfic anyhow. Kotters shouldn't waste time on that, he should focus on more adorable Martian Scholars being scholarly~
>>
>>20158139
mfw I found a Mindbreaking Sayna Doujini on Ex-hentai
>>
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>>20158114
BEST BE JOKIN' SOMALIAN
>>
>>20158158
But no one reads that.

>>20158160
Don't you dare.
>>
>>20158160
where?
>>
>>20158128
bah, set them to singlefire and hold down the trigger after adjusting your discretionary energy to engines and catch up to them
>>
>>20158160
Link?
>>
>>20158160
if you post it, kotters will read it.
>>
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>>20158124
>>
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>>20158176
Fuck OFF Kota. We're all tired of hearing you bitch and moan about how nobody reads your shitty quest. If you think your quest is shit, how about you stop fucking writing it. If you think nobody reads it, how about you stop fucking writing it. I for one am sick and tired of this shit, so either nut up and stop it, or shut up and keep writing.
>>
File: 1343970224129.png-(1.34 MB, 2000x1000, ssubwitches.png)
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>>20158207
No, I won't.

Sanya is pure.

>>20158215
Don't worry, she'll find true love.
>>
>>20158221
Thank you.
>>
>>20158221
If I don't write, I don't improve. You're a horrible person if you think people shouldn't better themselves, and should shut up for trying. I've made it easy for you to censor my posts, too, via either filtering sages or my trip.

You're a big boy.
>>
File: 1343970349092.png-(888 KB, 1124x866, WONT RESIST AT ALL.png)
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>>20158176
if you ask nicely, I'll upload it to mediafire
>>20158215
I fucking love Eila, you fucking take that back you filthy AMERICAN LOVER!
>>
>>20158241
Swing and a miss
>>
File: 1343970394182.jpg-(190 KB, 600x790, Sakamoeto.jpg)
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>>20158215
I like Eila
>>
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>>20158226
man. See pic.
>>
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>>20158246
lewd
>>
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>>20158240
So what's it gonna be Kotters? Are you going to stop writing your shitty spinoff because it's a shitty spinoff that nobody reads? Or are you going to keep writing because you enjoy doing it, fuck the haters?

Choose. And don't look back.
>>
>>20158275
Ok
>>
File: 1343970487659.jpg-(167 KB, 1440x810, 1336524332006.jpg)
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Only good Strike Witches threesome is Erica, Ursula, and Gertrude.

Or Eila, Sanya, and Erica.

Or Gertrude, Erica, and Sanya.

Also, its "no one likes Perrine" not "no one likes Eila".
>>
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>>20158286
>>
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>>20158286
Ojou-samas
>>
>>20158288
Is it strange that I'd a tactical perrine but not a normal perrine?
>>
File: 1343970707868.gif-(1.34 MB, 338x249, pronz plz.gif)
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>>20158246
Please, Panzerhexen, I need porn. I can't fap without porn.
>>
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>>20158246
Pretty please
>>
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>Sexualizing Adorable Cossack
>>
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>>20158352
shut the fuck up and fight for the motherland
>>
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The California is less then 12,000 yards away, give or take a length. With little time to warn them, you simply nose down and begin firing. The Hispanos thunder and roar, the heavy shells quaking up the wakes of the torpedoes and into them. You're rewarded with a thundering explosion, followed by secondaries as the nearby torpedoes are detonated.

Warned by the blast, the California's triple-A opens up, 40mm bofors and 20mm twin-mounts hammering away at the barely-visible incoming weapons. The last anyone checked, Martian attack-boats used a kind of short-range, heavy weapon nicknamed "thumpers" for their characteristic report - a kind of mortar flinging a short-range, heavy explosive. Whatever is ripping through the water below is new... and very, very fast.

You bank hard, the remaining weapons past your gun-arc, and Ian's turret speaks as your roll brings the surface into his arc. There's soon another loud blast and fountain of water to the right, and the Widow is splattered with saltwater.
>>
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>>20158352
http://www.mediafire.com/?894ympact27a1zb
MUHAHAHAHAHAHA have some finnish witches to wash that ORUSSIAN SCUM down
>>
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>>20158352
>>
>>20158352
it's worse than that, rape/mindbreak. it'd be one thing if it was tender loving but this is UNFORGIVABLE!
>>
Everybody's seen the Sanya doujin done by Black Dog right?

If not.....
>>
>>20158370
NOOOOOO!
OUR KILL TALLIES!
>>
File: 1343970966242.jpg-(35 KB, 450x523, YOU AUTISMAL FAGGOT.jpg)
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>>20158241
Oh, I think you should better yourself alright. You just have terrible self esteem with regards to your quality of writing, and me and many others around you are THIS tired of dealing with it. Grow some fucking self-esteem you miserable pile of festering pox.

With that all said, I like Subwitches. I like it quite a lot, and I look forward to it every Tuesday.

Now, I've read quite a bit of fanfiction in my time. A lot of fanfiction. Believe me when I say that, while you do suffer a bit with the combat, you are above average. You are not Planefag. You are not Papa-N. But you are not LandingGear. You are closer to Planefag than you are to LandingGear.


Socks is a great character, one of the best of the extended canon, however the 'sub'witches lack personality. I frequently find myself thinking "Caulders? Which one's that again?" Admiral Isaki was good, I hope to see more of him (Perhaps that private debriefing in his quarters? do ho ho), MacArthur is a gigantic prick. You really need to develop your witches more - If you must, railroad in some character development, as well as cut down on "SHIT'S HAPPENING GUYS!" - character development is done in downtime, and you need to do that.
>>
Where'd planefag go?
>>
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>>20158381
Thanks man, have some bee porn.
>>
>>20158388
That one is lame, art is poop tier
>>
>>20158388
Wait what?
>>
>>20158370
>Obrez with Ivan quote
I was there, man. I was there
>>
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"BINGO!" Ian crows, and you bank hard towards the California, intent on nailing a few more torpedoes, but there are none in evidence. The ones not shot up have missed, clean, and the ship is safe.

And just as you're congratulating yourself, a Martian glider-bomb arcs in overhead and strikes the California's side directly amidships.
>>
>>20158421
FUCK

...

Going for dinner guys - Don't fuck shit up too bad, mmkay?
>>
>>20158421
Welp.
>>
>>20158421

YES!

For our glorious Red Homeland!
>>
>>20158421
Fucking hell
>>
>>20158421

Oh ffs.

You just can win escort missions.
>>
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>>20158421
>>
>>20158421
Fuck.
>>
>>20158421
....the fuck!
We just can't win today.
If it's not Arnold choking during our medal ceremony because of fucking DATES, it's a Martian Psi Attack, or Chuck being a smarmy bastard, or other people taking our kills, or coming back to a burning Barin.
Now the Martians really are just fucking with us.
>>
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>>20158421

NEXT TIME ON STRIKE WITCHES: HAMMERTIME!

STRIKE WITCHES will resume IN A WEEK OR SO, because I'm working SIX DAYS IN A FUCKING ROW and then, after a single day off, I have a 7 and 1/2 hour shift that starts at 5:30 AM.

That's unfortunate, because I think we can all agree this quest has gone on too long, and is no longer as engaging or gripping as it once was. It's time to wrap up this season, and it's very hard considering how I only cover about half of the ground I intend to with each thread. Writing takes time. Damn.
>>
>>20158409
>Black Dog art is poop tier

Plebeian.
>>
>>20158475
Good work, anyway.
>>
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UNDERWATER TIMED ESCORT MISSIONS
>>
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>>20158421
"damage report!"

(also you hear this in my voice)
>>
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>>20158381
>http://www.mediafire.com/?894ympact27a1zb
>>
>>20158475
>SWQ ending
Nooooo
>>
>That's unfortunate, because I think we can all agree this quest has gone on too long, and is no longer as engaging or gripping as it once was.

I don't agree with that at all. I mean, fuck, you took a month off for (as far as we know) no reason and then another couple weeks when you were in Georgia, which cost you a good chunk of your reader base. Gotta rebuild that shit, man.
>>
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>strikes the california's side directly amidships
>Side
>Amidships

... wait.
>>
>>20158475
>we can all agree...

I don't. But it's your quest and you do seem to be getting tired of it.

If you have trouble wrapping it up, then just write out an ending without voter input. You'll get a lot done and we'll get closure and nobody will be angry that they voted for the wrong thing.
>>
>>20158475
I think it's still gripping.
>>
>>20158489
You win this round picard
>>
>>20158475
It's gonna take you another 15 threads to end it anyway. Unless we die.
>>
>>20158500
season you fool!
>>
>>20158475
>That's unfortunate, because I think we can all agree this quest has gone on too long, and is no longer as engaging or gripping as it once was.

Lies. Damned lies. And statistics too.
>>
>>20158500
There's always Tank Witches Quest!
>>
>>20158475
>no longer as engaging or gripping as it once was.

I have to disagree with that.
>>
>>20158525
Ew
>>
>>20158502

Even so, I need some time "away" from it so I can come back to it fresh and re-invigorated. That was the idea, end the "season" at an appropriate point, perhaps do another quest I had in mind, then come back later, but...

... waah I slow
>>
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>>20158475
I dunno about "too" long, but if time is approaching, then so be it. For what it's worth, this was one of the top quests I've ever followed in /tg/ history.
That said, do you happen to be a vampire who sustains himself on the tears of Eila- and Lucchini-fags? Because if so, then I hope you're happy with your eternal life, you meanie.
>>
>>20158475
>this quest has gone on too long
May be true but I'll follow it till the end.
All I ask is we get a satisfying ending, none of that "Hey your all now dead" bullshit. Your better then that.
>>
>>20158541
You forgot trudefags
>>
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>>20158525
Ha!
>>
>>20158475
>I think we can all agree this quest has gone on too long, and is no longer as engaging or gripping as it once was.
I don't agree with that at all, unless by "engaging or gripping" you mean "constant waifuing bullshit and shitstorms between acting like a rational goddamn military officer and a 2-dimensional caricature stereotype of a pilot".
If you mean the latter, then yeah, it's gone down.

I'd say it's an improvement, though.
>>
>>20158556
Na, fuck those guys.
>>
>>20158534

derr, that's what's clearing my fields. Every time I switch to another tab.

it was an extension. It's gone now. One of those nice 'chan extensions that was broken by a firefox update a million years ago but I neglected to remove. Derp.
>>
>>20158475
If you want to cover more ground per thread, you might have to use emergency war autopilot.

I don't think it's entirely true though the retards who insist on "PILOT DURR BOUNCE HURR" are part of the mucking up.

What happened to the old "doing it on the fly" that you started out with?
>>
>>20158534
>perhaps do another quest

HOW ABOUT UPDATING AWiY?
>>
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I also think the quest is still gripping. The humor and character interaction is what draws me. I think my favorite thing is actually the Perrine/Ian hijinks. And Erica's randomness.

But if it must end, then I surely do hope it only ends for "this season" and is followed by "season 2: The Revenge".
>>
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>>20158574

Later tonight, actually. Just have to do some thinkerizing about Kanako before I wrap up the next update.
>>
>>20158475
>I think we can all agree this quest has gone on too long, and is no longer as engaging or gripping as it once was.
From the reader side, not in the slightest. But of course, the author's interest is just as important if not moreso.

As long as you give it a proper wrap-up, I'll be content.
>>
>>20158534
Honestly, I feel like MC's story is coming to a close. Any new season may need a new protagonist, with MC's story all wrapped up.
>>
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Sup. I'm not going to lie, I've been sitting on this for a good several weeks. Although I didn't expect you people to sink my ship this fast. Damn.

For reference, the California as she is now looks like the Maryland after her final refit, but with 12 14-inch guns.

With all that said, here's PBS Side Story #2, or "Why the fuck the California was right there."
>>
>>20158574
More being an asshole with a heart of gold who engages in cocky interesting combat and awkward romance shenanigans?

I'm always up for more of that.
>>
*DAY OF THE MEDAL CEREMONY, off the southern coast of England*

“Evening, Captain.”

“Good Evening, Commander,” came the hoarse whispered reply.

Mackintosh yawned as he closed the door to the bridge behind him. “Ten Bells, and All's Well?”

“Ten Bells, All's Well, and all that bullcrap,” whispered Captain Richmond. “I swear to God Almighty I'll never get used to this six hour watch schedule,” He shook his head. “Only an engineer could have thought up something so evil and sadistic,” he chuckled, which the rest of the bridge crew joined him in. “But that's neither here nor there. What brings you up to the bridge early, XO? You've got another 25 minutes before you've got to be up here.”

“Two reasons: The Gunnery Department finally put the final expenditure report from our shore bombardment off of Hampshire and Sussex on my desk earlier, so I thought you'd want to see that,” replied Mackintosh as he walked over to his captain and handed him the report.

Captain Richmond blanched briefly as he looked over the report. “That's nearly three quarters of the 14 inch shells that we loaded in Portsmouth!”

“Well, that's what happens when you keep 6 guns firing salvos non-stop for 5 days. We're lucky they don't think we need to replace the barrel liners yet,” said Mackintosh.

“Still,” whispered Captain Richmond as he tossed the report into his chair, “I'll feel much better when we get to Barin and start taking on more ammunition. Well, that's one reason you're up here. What about the second?”
>>
>>20158611
“I also thought I'd give a warning: Dinner tonight is meat loaf,” Mackintosh announced to groans from around the bridge. “I know, I know. At least it's not powdered eggs and Spam like last night.”

Captain Richmond hung his head with a sigh. “How on Earth that Chief Steward manages to screw THAT up I'll never know. Somebody has told him that you don't have to shove half a pound of salt into the mix, right?”

“I don't think anyone has had the balls to bring it up with him yet, sir,” said the Junior Officer of the Watch. In the pause after that sentence, the officers on the bridge slowly turned to look at Mackintosh.

“What?” he asked, “Don't look at me. I've already fought a Martian face-to-face; one close encounter with humanity's enemies is more than enough for me.” The laughter that sparked was cut off by the bridge phone ringing.

“Bridge, JOOD speaking. Uh huh. I see. How many? Understood, I'll pass it on. Sir, we've got a large force of aerial contacts crossing the Channel on radar, about 30 miles out bearing 0-7-6,” said the JOOD after he hung up the receiver again.

“Oh? Do they know what they are?” Mackintosh as he walked to the bridge windows and began scanning the horizon with his binoculars. He paused momentarily to fight off a twinge of pain in his empty socket.

“Probably Army Air Force,” whispered Captain Richmond as he joined Mackintosh at the window and raised his eyebrow at his XO's discomfort. “They've got a flight of experimental aircraft crossing over from Germany today, and they sent out a message earlier in the watch to visually identify all aerial targets before engaging.”
>>
>>20158574
What is "AWiY"?
>>
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>>20158602
>new protagonist

I'VE GOT A FEW IDEAS FOR THAT
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>>20158638
“Wait, I think I see something,” said Mackintosh. “A glint in the sky. You think tho-” he was cut off by the bridge phone ringing again.

“Bridge, Captain,” whispered Captain Richmond as he answered it. “Well, if it's so important, pipe it through.”

As Mackintosh leaned over with an inquisitorial air, Captain Richmond held the receiver up so they both could hear. A tinny girls voice suddenly broke through. “--ay again. Enemy force approaching Castle Barin from south, bearing 1-1-8. Observe at least two fighter squadrons, heavies and escorts-”

The eyes of the two officers went wide. “How far?!” demanded Captain Richmond as Mackintosh bolted for the chart table, roughly shoving the conning officer out of his way.

“35 miles!” he shouted back after quickly consulting the chart.

“Well, god damn it, I want us there five minutes ago!”

“Aye, Captain!” acknowledged Mackintosh as he darted over to the engine telegraphs, and rung them to “Ahead Flank”. “Helmsman, bring us to course 0-5-0!”

“Course 0-5-0, aye!”

“Bosun’s mate! Sound General Quarters!”

“Aye sir!” came the reply as the seaman rushed over to the ship's intercom and alarm control. As he picked up the receiver and blew the attention whistle, he clicked the alarm to life. “General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands, man your battle stations! Set Condition Zed throughout the ship, and clear the deck for anti-aircraft action. General Quarters, General Quarters...”
>>
>>20158641
SPEAKING OF IDEAS I WANNA TALK TO YOU INSTEAD OF WAITING ANOTHER FOUR MONTHS
>>
**

“Uh, gentlemen?” asked the radar officer fifteen minutes later.

“Yes, Ensign Plummer?” replied Captain Richmond.

“Aren't we going to move into the conning tower? We're entering a combat situation.”

“No Ensign, we are not,” whispered the captain. “After a year and a half on the Honolulu, I've come to the conclusion that I have far greater control of the battle and my ship from the navigation bridge.

“And since that tower,” he gestured down, “came off of the Helena, I think it is safe to say that my own experiences will still hold.”

“Besides, Ensign. One direct hit from a maser is going to open that can just as easily as it would here,” said Mackintosh. “The quartermaster and I should know. Isn't that right, quartermaster?”

The man at the helm nodded sagely as the gunnery officer cleared his throat. “Captain, are you SURE you wish for us to keep holding our fire? Respectfully sir, we need to lend our firepower to the fight as soon as possible.”

“Opinion noted and overruled, Lieutenant. The battle overhead is too chaotic for us to just start shooting blindly at range,” whispered Captain Richmond. “We have the element of surprise, gentlemen. The allied forces don't know we're here. The Martians don't know we're here. This is too much of tactical advantage to throw away for no gain. This ship has caught the martians blindsided before, and I intend for it to do so again.”
>>
>>20158655
Before the gunnery officer could respond, a message on the radio came in load and clear. “Ghostrider to Barin! To Minna, Bader, anybody! We've got a Martian fleet making a run towards Castle Barin , bearing 1-0-0 true! Looks to be composed of two of their little torpedo boats escorting an unknown kind of warship, smaller than one of their dreadnaughts. We need anti-ship munitions on these bastards now!”

“And that, gentlemen,” whispered Captain Richmond with a grin as the radio started to go wild with frantic responses, “is Lady Surprise beckoning us onstage. Radar!”

“Already on it, sir,” said Plummer as he got on the horn with the radar room. “We've got them on radar, feeding data to Gunnery Control. Range is 27 miles, closing fast.”

“XO, begin evasive maneuvers!”

“Aye, captain! Helm, give me a 5 degree left-right shift every 30 seconds.”

“Aye aye!”

“Gunnery, all batteries may open fire on my mark,” ordered Captain Richmond as the California's forward turrets elevated and began tracking their prey.

“Shatter their sky.”
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>>20158641
I AM EXCITE
>>
“Visual reports from the Aerial Forces confirm it, Overcommander. Two of the Human flattop carriers are present. They look to be both examples of the Mountain Class.”

“Excellent. What is their status?”

“They appear to be getting underway as fast as they can to make for the open ocean. They do not wish to be trapped in the channel with us, not while Aerial is above them.”

“Most excellent,” grinned the Martian captain. “After we level that damned psionic stone hive of theirs, we'll be able to full test the engines of this craft running them down. But that's for later. I want targeting solutions for the hive bombardment ready and waiting for when we enter optimal maser range, and have our own air-clearing batteries waiting for if they somehow manage to get an attack aircraft through to us.”

“Yes, Overcommander.”

The Martian grinned to himself. After months of sitting waiting in an occupied Human port, they were finally having their chance at glory. And what a chance it was! The Aerial Forces had really outdone themselves this time. With their attention occupied dealing with the overwhelming attack already in progress, the Humans were caught utterly defenseless on the water. And even if they DID manage to divert some forces to attack his ship, that would open up an equal hole to let in the Aerial boys.

It was a perfect pincer attack, and the Martians were pulling it off without a hitch.

Which is why one of his escorting torpedo boats being literally blown sky-high atop one of the giant spouts of water that suddenly bracketed his ship came as such a shock.
>>
>>20158667
“Ho-lee shit! Look at how high that one went!” shouted one of the lookouts as he watched an explosion dot one of the water spouts.

“Good shooting, Gunnery,” whispered Captain Richmond. “Keep it up. Radio! I think it's time we announced our presence to Allied Forces and got some air support. Our own AA won't be enough to fight off the hornets' nest we just kicked.”

“Aye sir!” responded the radioman as he adjusted his headset. “Attention all allied forces in the Barin area. This is the USS California approaching from the west-southwest. We are engaging the Martian surface forces at this time, and are requesting air cover.”

**

As the cacophony of psionic voices exploded in the cruiser's bridge, the comms officer proved himself loudest. “Contact contact contact! Aerial Forces reports a Human heavy monitor approaching from the southwest!”

“WHAT?!” demanded the Martian XO. “The main sortie to the South was supposed to lock up Human naval resistance for the entirety of this operation! Who the hell could it be?!”

“There's only one ship it COULD be,” growled the Martian captain. “I don't even need to see the bastard to know that that Dr'all-damned bear flag is flying from its mast! Think, you imbecile! They have been shelling our Ground Forces into oblivion for the past week!”

“But they ceased fire and withdrew hours ago! They couldn't have reacted and repositio-” His words were cut off as the Captain smacked him across his face.

“THEN THEY OBVIOUSLY WITHDREW TO THE NORTH, YOU UTTER MORON!” he roared as the cruiser was bracketed by shell splashes once more.
>>
>>20158675
“Overcommander! Aerial Forces confirm, it is Capital Ship 44!”

“Of course it is!” the captain shouted as he turned his attention back to the tactical overlay, the stone towers of Barin seemingly taunting him with their proximity. “Well, what are you waiting for?! Go evasive! They're not going to keep missing us forever!”

“Yes, Overcommander!”

As the ship started shifting right and left, the captain started once again staring at Barin, ignoring everything else to glare at the stone works those damn psionic girls hid behind. He kept staring at it, even as each salvo came splashing down around his rapidly evading ship. However, the other one of his torpedo boats being blown apart shattered his concentration.

The captain stared at the rapidly sinking shattered hulk for several long seconds before acting. “Oh to the DEPTHS WITH THIS!” he shouted as he rushed forward to the helm station and shoved the helmsman out of the way. “That ship is fucking supernatural!” he continued as he worked the controls. “Aerial can suck my short one, I'm not going to let my ship get shot to shit by these depthspawn anymore!”

**

“You know what, Mr. Mackintosh?”

“What, Captain?”

“I'm feeling a little sorry for the commander on that cruiser.”

“Sir?”

“He just had his whole escorting flotilla wiped out, and he has no way to properly respond to it,” Captain Richmond whispered. “I think we should make a show of our sympathy. How about a 20 gun salute?”

Mackintosh and the gunnery officer shared a wolfish grin. “Aye aye, sir! Helmsman! Come left and hold a steady course!”
>>
>>20158675
As the California's bow swung to port, Ensign Plummer spoke up excitedly. “He's running! Oh boy, look at him run! Captain, he just swung himself around inside his own length and started running back towards France at 45 knots! Christ, I'd hate to have been on THAT ship when he made that turn!”

“What?!” Captain Richmond demanded. “No. No, you do NOT get to try and make an end-run on me and get away with it! You are not getting away from MY ship, you damn coward!” He turned around to face his gunnery officer while pointing in the direction of the rapidly retreating cruiser. “Blow that bastard to Hell!”

“Aye, sir!” responded the gunnery officer, as all of the California's starboard-side guns fired as a single unit. Several seconds afterwards, a miniature sun momentarily erupted on the horizon.

“And there's the happy mushroom!” said Mackintosh as he brought up his binoculars. “That's a kill!”

Ensign Plummer swallowed hard. “Uh, sir? We seem to have gotten their attention. We've got entire waves of Squids breaking off their attack on Barin to come down on us!”

“Is that so?” whispered Captain Richmond as he walked to the front of the bridge. “Well, come and get us, you sons of bitches!” he challenged, as the California's flak batteries thundered to life.
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>>20158640

Well, I took a 17th level D&D Wizard and put him into Touhou.

One might detect a theme in the stories I write.

>setting with lacy frilly shit
>ram an exploding monster truck through it
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>>20158602
>>20158599

On that note, I had an idea about a good ending for MC. After all we've accomplished, it's unthinkable command would risk us in combat. As noted before, the US rotated aces back to the US to train new pilots. Now, that would be terrible. We'd be separated for all the people we care about.

But what about a training squadron in England, close to Barin? I'm sure with our sterling record we could get any posting we wanted.
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>>20158667
>overcommander

Reminds me of that overcaptain bit in "Veil of Madness"
>>
And that's all for tonight, folks. Here's the pastebin:

http://pastebin.com/BP3CuVBS

I'll be back to normal updates next quest. Questions, comments, APOLOGIES FOR SINKING MY SHIP?
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>>20158732
>implying one hit above the waterline that doesn't cook off ammo will sink it
>>
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Hey guys. I got the archive and Demons 6 coming up in a little bit, but Firefox is being a cunt and a half so it'll be a few minutes.

Sorry for the wait, anyone who downloads it.
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>>20158705

>Touhou
>lacy frilly shit

Not enterily sure about that one chap, but I like the way you think, I'm doing the same.
>>
>>20158641
inb4 we play as Robin and have to deal with us
>>
>>20158707

.... now I can see fifteen drunk men screaming and shouting and fighting twenty pissed-off policemen in the streets of Peroria, Illinois, as the locals haul away a car with "SINGLE-SEATERS ARE FOR PUSSIES" scrawled on it.

As they're crammed into the back of the paddy wagon, the last one screams, in a rage:

"IMMA MEEMPPUS BEEL, CAWKSWEEKER, CANAN DO DIS SHIT GUBBAMINT GONNA SKIN YER ASS AN' PRIN' WAR BONDS ON 'EM FUKKIT"
>>
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>>20158475
>>20158641

Well, you do what you gotta do. I still look forward to this quest every week, but I understand when you hit the point where a break is needed. I will be sad when things actually do end for good, but I am going to enjoy the homestretch either way.

>implying I ever finish things on time

Here is a mini-update. I got sidetracked prepping for a last minute camping trip, so it won't get done until next week.
>>
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>>20158769

Actually, that's the BEST PART. In Touhou, the dark, terrible subtext is already there. I had to add it for Strike Witches, but it's already there in touhou canon.

For example, nobody talks about how Remilia is provided with "food" by the other youkai as part of a peace treaty...
>>
>>20158705
I wonder how Yuyuko would deal with a lich.

If he cast gentle repose, they could have little stillborn babies together!

... I'm horrible.
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>>20158641
A unit of extremely disgruntled Canadian lumberjacks armed only with blackpowder rifles, whiskey and axes?
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>>20158782
>haters gonna hate
>donald strutting
>EXACT SAME ATTITUDE

Sir Drawfag, you have outdone yourself and you're getting a lot better with human movement and expressions. BRAVO SIR
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>>20158782
Much improvement on those noses. Good show.
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>>20158793

Yeah, gotta dig a bit to find the ugly, but there's also SO MUCH fan work that its hard to know what is canon or not.

At least for me
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>>20158802
HEY MAN, THAT'S MY TURF.

In other news, Demons 6 coming up RIGHT NOW.
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>>20158782
Now I see the problem: Miyafuji's nose is WAAY too long. Jap noses are short things, especially on children. Also, their faces are shorter.

You've drawn two europeans. Japanese people have rounder faces.
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>>20158795

...
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March 17th 1943 09:00
RCAF Station Comox, Vancouver Island

Early morning sunlight peered through the windows of the office at Station Comox, where four witches were standing around a map of North America.

“So what's the damage, chief?” Scarlet Harrison said. Rose McNair pulled over a small stack of papers and began flipping through them.

“First strikes hit, here and here,” Rose pointed out places on the map, “One group at Prince Rupert and another at Anchorage. Both at approximately fourteen hundred hours.”

“And it's been almost a day since then,” Ayaka glanced up at Rose, “now what?”

Rose reached over and crossed out an airbase further south, “Anchorage and Prince Rupert are under seige. The Anchorage group seems to have kept moving north, command suspects they're going to try moving around the Rockies. The Prince Rupert group has all routes in-land blockaded and seems to be moving south along the coast. Bella Bella went dark about five hours ago.”

“Jesus, that's,” Scarlet stared down at the map and measured with her fingers, “that's like two hundred miles in a day! They're... they're...”

“Blitzkreig.” Johanna Wiese spoke up. “Leave behind enough to take a town while the rest of your force moves on. We took an entire country in a month. No doubt they can take a few scattered towns in a day.”

“Exactly,” Rose began drawing lines and circling bases, “And we suspect they'll reach Port Hardy in four or five hours if they keep moving at that rate. A line on the island is being set up, centred on Port Alberni. The mainland line is being place just west of Vancouver.”
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>>20158772
That would be during our round the world war bonds tour. Gotta enjoy the hero thing while it lasts.
>>
“Not a whole lot of room to breathe.” Ayaka grumbled.

“Not much choice with the geography,” Rose answered.

“Hold on a sec,” Scarlet traced a line with her finger from Comox to the defensive line on the island. “That puts us at least twenty miles from the front line! So we're abandoning the base?”

“We don't have much choice. I'd suggest having a bag packed with things you wouldn't want to lose.”

The other three witches recoiled from the map in horror. Ayaka paced up and down biting her finger nail. Scarlet took a seat in one of the chairs and held her head, Johanna taking a seat beside her and patted Scarlet's shoulder.

“I'm,” Rose paused and shook her head, taking a moment to look back down at the map, “I'm very sorry. To all of you. I'll explain the situation to the other girls after lunch. Until then, please don't say anything. Johanna, you're dismissed. Scarlet and Ayaka, I have a mission for you.”

Johanna nodded and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Scarlet and Ayaka both stepped back up to the desk to await orders. Rose took a seat and drew a few papers out from her desk before speaking.
>>
>>20158808

en.touhou.wiki is the best place for the canon stuff.

Especially the "news articles" from the in-universe papers, they're rife with awesome plot points to run away with. One of these days I'm going to write about a Gunslinger In Gensokyo, and proceed to be confused when people quote some random thing I wrote and go NICE REF I LOVE STEPHEN KING LOLOLOLO
>>
>>20158818
QUADRATIC FIGHTERS LINEAR WIZARDS
>>
“There have been some... strange reports from Prince Rupert.” Rose grabbed a pencil and drew a large oval on the map “I've been asked to send a small recon group to check the less populated areas. You'll be flying low over the trees, checking for anything unusual between here and Campbell Lake. Nothing too difficult for a witch.”

“Yet you picked us,” Scarlet stuck out a finger at Rose, “your two top officers. You don't just throw that at some cheesy little recon assignment.”

Ayaka glanced up at Rose, giving a look that implied her agreement with Scarlet's observation.

“Two reasons. First, because we have no idea what's out there, and second,” Rose stared up at both of them with a somber expression, “I'm not sure if we'll be here when you get back. If that is the case, I've already told you what to do. Pack a bag, leave it on your bed. Report in at Station Sea Island. Understood?”

The two witches nodded. “Good. Dismissed.”
>>
>>20158811
That made for a good segue.
>>
As soon as Ayaka had stepped out of the room, Scarlet pulled a chair up to Rose's desk and sat down. Rose cocked an eyebrow at the red-headed witch. “Yes?”

“Go ahead,” Scarlet started, “say it. You told me so. You do realize just how fucked up this is, right?”

“That we're being invaded?”

“That they fucking called it weeks, MONTHS in advance. You can get intel on a human opponent, sure, but a martian? Not so easy. Weirder still, you aren't saying a damn thing about it when you were all in a huff two weeks ago!”

“You want me to say 'I told you so'? Scarlet, you know I feel the same way, but right now we have bigger priorities.”

“Like sending your best friend and best officer to cover the retreat?”

“You know damn well that that isn't what's happening!” Rose slammed a fist on her desk.

“Then what is?!” Scarlet stood up and threw the chair back into place against the wall. “Because no one else seems to know! They just ask you to jump and you aren't even bothering to ask how high.”
>>
>>20158818
I mean, the crossover just begs so many questions.

Is Tenshi an archon or a deva?
Would Kelemvor slap Shikieki's shit?
If Gensokyo has a direct connection to hell, where is the blood war?
Does Remilia receive orders from Asmodeus?

And on and on.
>>
“You don't think I've TRIED?” Rose seethed with rage and confusion, “I'm just a kid commander out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere and you think they'd tell me things?!”

“We're witches, Rosie.” Scarlet slapped the side of her hand into her palm. “We're the ones who are supposed to ask these questions and make sure nothing fishy is going on, and if WE can't get answers then that means something's really, REALLY wrong.”

“Of course, I know that. I just-” Rose pinched her brow and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Look. I'll try asking Kate. She's staying at the academy while Wendy recovers. If anyone's high up enough, it'll be her. Happy now?”

“Yeah, fine. Take care, chief.” Scarlet opened the door to leave, but was interrupted just as she was about to step out.

“Oh, and Scarlet?”

“Hm?”

“I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don't burn the place down while I'm out.”
>>
Jane and Woody stared each other down from across a checker board, while Riley appeared to be staring down the board itself. Jane gingerly reached for a red piece and moved it up the board, almost dropping it in the process. Woody took a single look at the piece, scratched her nose, and jumped one of her pieces thrice and took the same amount of Jane's pieces from the board. Jane gaped at the board in awe and horror.

Woody simply looked at the board and giggled. “Wow, Jane, you're pretty bad at this, huh?”

“I- That- HOW?!” Jane sputtered, “Alright. Alright. Calm down, Edwards. You can do this. You can DO THI-”

“Hey!” a voiced called from the other end of the room. The trio of witches looked over to see Bobby standing in the door-way.

“Just what are you doing?” Bobby stomped over to the table, brow scrunched, eyes ablaze.

Jane raised her hands in surrender. “I'm sorry, I'm not very good at checkers. I jus-”

“You're sitting around playing GAMES?!” Bobby began making wild hand movements to emphasize her point. “Have any of you read the paper?! We're being bloody invaded!”

“Yeah, in Prince Rupert,” Jane grumbled, “What do you want us to do? Fly all two hundred miles up there and FIGHT THE ALIUMS with just the bunch of us?”

Riley and Woody looked equally confused and afraid at the sudden outburst.
>>
“You could be doing something productive! Like training or getting some exercise instead of sitting around all day! This is all you ever do!” Bobby looked around the room, possibly trying to find something for the other girls to do, and spotted Rose walking down the hall. “Ah! Wing Commander!”

Rose cautiously ducked her head into the room. “Yes, Braham?”

“Shouldn't you be telling these, these indolent cods to do something productive?”

“I, erm, Jane?” Rose looked to Jane, wearing a look that screamed 'HELP'.

“I don't know, chief.” Jane replied. “We were just playing checkers and she came in and started yelling and now I'm just as confused as you are.”

“I see,” Rose sighed, “Braham, would you mind coming with me?”

“Bu-but, look at them!” Bobby started.

“Braham. Come.”

Bobby glanced back to the girl's playing at sauntered after Rose, grumbling. “Yes, ma'am.”

Jane and Woody looked back at the checker board to find several pieces moved.

“So, whose turn was it?” Woody asked.

“Think it was yours.” Jane answered.

Woody nodded pensively and stared at the board. A few seconds later, she jumped several of Jane's pieces and won the game.
>>
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>>20158837

Japan is pretty good at sneaking dark undertone in otherwise idyllic setting, the monster girl encyclopedia is the lateast one I can think of that fit the bill.
>>
Rose stepped into her office and took a seat behind her desk. She motioned for Bobby to take a seat across from her. The English witch brushed off the chair and sat, still a bit too afraid to break the silence. The papers and maps from the previous meeting had already been put away, leaving the desk in a state of professional perfection. Rose opened a drawer, removing a thin file and skimming its contents.

“So, Braham,” Rose began, “I've been in touch with your former commanding officer, Squadron Leader Chambers, as you are the only member of the five-oh-nineth who was removed from active duty prior to joining. She's told me you're quite the busy-body, always trying to help out others, this true?”

“Y-Yes ma'am.” Bobby mumbled meekly.

“I take one of your parents worked in a skilled trade, yes?”

“O-Oh yes,” Bobby was slightly taken aback at suddenly being asked about her background, “my father was a mason. My mother was always doing something, gardening, knitting, cooking, looking after me and my brother.”

“I see.” Rose looked through the letters further. “I'm told that you had a history of getting into arguments with your squad mates. Your hard-working attitude didn't exactly win you many friends, I take it?”

“Don't need to win friends, ma'am, just the war.”

“Yes, well, getting along with your colleagues usually benefits far more than not. I took the time to ask where you got the nickname 'Bobby'. Not exactly a typical thing to call someone named Jackie.”

“Oh?” Bobby suddenly perked up at this.
>>
“It seems the name comes from the slang term, in your country. A police officer. Seems like they weren't particularly fond of your attitude. Does that sound right?”

“I- Well, I mean, I suppose that they didn't really like it, but...” Bobby's voice trailed off as she stared down into her lap, letting her hair cover her face. She remained silent for several minutes before Rose realized that she better say something.

“Braham?” Rose stood up and leaned over her desk. Muffled sniffs were her only reply. The blonde witch walked around her desk and placed her hand on Bobby's shoulder.

“You didn't know, did you?” Rose whispered.

“Of course n-not! I just tho-thought it m-meant that we were f-friends. I di-didn't think th-that they meant it l-like that!”

Rose took the tissue box from her desk and handed it to Bobby.

“Listen,” Rose took a knee beside Bobby, “I know we aren't exactly the most strict or disciplined squad, but that's okay. You can't change people just by yelling at them. If you want to make them see things like you do, you have to do the same for them. So loosen up a bit. They're still just girls and so are you. Can't just hand someone a gun and tell them to grow up. Understand?”

Bobby very slowly nodded, small wet marks on her skirt clearly visible.

“Jane goes with you on night patrols, how are you with her?” Rose asked.

“Sh-she doesn't r-really talk much.” Bobby managed to stutter out between hiccups.

Rose shook her head and laughed quietly to herself. “Sounds like Jane, alright. Never talks when you want her to, never shuts up when you don't. Well, you can always talk to me if you have problems with anyone. Don't want anyone to give you a hard time, but I don't want you to do the same.”
>>
Bobby sniffled and the slightest hint of a smile began to appear on her face. “Y-yes, ma'am.”

“Very good. You're welcome to stay here for a few minutes to collect yourself.”

“N-no thank you,” Bobby shook her head and wiped her face with a tissue, “I think I'll be okay. Uh, th-thank you. “

“Any time, Bobby. Now go wash up. You're a mess, dear.”

As the younger witch stood up, Rose saw the girl in a new light. Bobby brushed her long, dirty blonde hair out of her face and smiled at her commanding officer, bright blue eyes muddled and red from earlier.

Bobby stopped before opening the door. “Really, thank you. I've never been good with other people, but I'll try my best.”

“Yes, yes. Run along now.” Scarlet shooed her out and shut the door.

As she walked down the halls, Bobby suddenly walked into a misplaced body and was greeted by a mess of short orange hair.

“Er, hi Bong.” Bobby tried desperately to hold back any negative comments about the younger witch's air-headedness.

“Oh, Bobby! I mean, Flying Officer Bobby. I think. I, uh, wanted to ask you something.”

Bobby bit her lip to hold back from correcting the other girl. “What can I do for you, Bong?”

“About what you said in the lounge, it got me thinking. If I'm gonna be on top I need to learn from the best and so I thought 'She'll do!'. So, um, do you think you can teach me a thing or two?”

“Oh,” Bobby stopped to process what had been asked of her, “I suppose I could. As long as it's not with that, erm, thing from yesterday.”

“Oh no! Rosie took the Autoharp away and she didn't tell me where she put it.” Riley looked positively crestfallen at this and twiddled her thumbs.

“Thank go- Wait,” Bobby glanced at the American curiously, “Rosie?”

“Yeah. That's what Scarlet calls her!”

“Oh no...”
>>
March 17th, 1943 18:00
Somewhere over Vancouver Island

Scarlet and Ayaka buzzed over the tree-tops, scanning for activity. Shots and explosions rang out in the distance, where the martian war machine had already crashed into the island. Ayaka stared worriedly at the flashes over the horizon.

“Uh, hey, Scarlet?” she said, starting to panic, “Can we hurry it up a bit? I think they're getting close and those clouds are looking a bit dark for my taste.”

Scarlet looked up, still practically in the trees. “How close?”

“Like, uh,” Ayaka squinted at the horizon and pointed her finger, counting, “one, two, three... about twenty kilometres give or take.”

“Seriously? Damn, I thought we had more time. Alright let's-” Both witches froze as a bright red line streaked past them. The their eyes widened in unison, watching in horror as an enormous formation of martian fighters dropped out of the clouds.

“Th-that's gotta be a couple dozen, at least! What do we do?!” Ayaka asked.

“FLY, DAMN IT!” Scarlet shouted.
>>
Both witches turned tail and began speeding back to Station Comox. The martians, however, had already spotted them, and a witch generally exchanges speed for manoeuvrability. The fighters were on them before they knew it. Scarlet levelled her gun, Ayaka her sword, and the two hovered back-to-back as Martian shots flew through the air around them.

“Take out as many as you can. Priority on the bombers.” Scarlet spoke the orders with deathly calm.

“Banzai.” Ayaka mimicked Scarlet's calm, and the two were apart in under a second.

Scarlet held her gun tight to her shoulder with one hand and held up an enormous shield with the other. Ayaka flitted between martian aircraft, jamming her sword in to the hilt and sending massive bursts of magical energy through it before pulling out. For every shot she took, Scarlet had to lower her shield in order to pull the bolt. It didn't take long before the more intelligent of the martians realized this, and soon the red-headed witch was under near constant fire. The fighters circled the solitary pair of witches while the bombers pressed onward. Scarlet began to sweat and Ayaka's movements became more frantic and erratic.

SHNK.

A high-pitched noise echoed through Scarlet's skull, and she quickly began losing altitude. She stared at her left striker, which was now missing its propeller, and started shouting. Reaching out an arm, Scarlet tried one desperate attempt to shield herself from the ground before Ayaka lost sight of her below the tree-line.

“SCARLET!” the Japanese witch shouted. It was too late before she heard the whistling sound of a flying rocket, the impact knocking her unconcious. The second witch's limp body began falling.
>>
March 17th, 1943 15:00 Hawaii-Aleutian Time Zone (UTC/GMT -10.)
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Two witches sat in a breezey Hawaiin hotel restaraunt. Between them lay two enormous bowls of salad. The older looking of the two, a very tanned woman with light blonde hair, meticulously picked out every trace of chicken from her salad, savouring every bite. The other, a young looking girl with short brown hair, scarfed down as much as she could as quickly as she could. Been fork-fulls, the two girls munched on a large platter of fresh Hawaiian fruit.

“So how does it feel, Reggie?” The older witch asked the younger.

“Feels good, cap'n!” came her answer.

“Sure does, Reg. Sure does. Any idea where the major disappeared to?”

Reggie raised her hand that wasn't holding a fork and pointed. “Right behind you, cap'n.”

The older witch leaned her head back and stared up into the piercing green eyes of her commanding officer.

“Major.”

“Buzz.” The new witch answered. The commanding officer swung around into one of the chairs, long dark pony-tail following closely, and smacked a number of papers on the table.

“Whazzis?” The blonde witch daintily lifted the corner of the top sheet.

“Orders. We're heading home,” the major replied.

“But I just got here a few months ago!” Reggie whined.

“Figures you two haven't heard. Howie hit Canada yesterday. We're going in to lend a hand.”

The two other witches stared blankly.
>>
“We're leaving today.”

More staring.

“In ten minutes.”

“What.” The blone spoke in complete monotone, more a statement than an a question.

“So up and at 'em, ladies. We don't have time to waste.”

The youngest witch slowly resumed eating.

The blonde witch placed her hands on her commanding officer's shoulders. “Sammy-”

“There's a kitchen on the plane.”

“-I am okay with this. Come on, Reg, up and at 'em like the major said!”

The younger witch nodded, and together, Beatrice “Buzz” Wagner, Regina Barber, and Samantha Mackintosh strode out of the hotel.
>>
March 18th, 1943 06:30
Terrace, British Columbia

“Wakey-wakey, Mister Mabbs~, you have a big day ahead of you!” came an overly-cheerful, yet soothing voice.

Rick Mabbs groaned. His everything hurt. He tried opening an eye, but squinted through the bright sun-light. It took him a few attempts to realize his right arm was too weighed down under the covers to lift. Taking his left hand out, he shielded his eyes and tried opening them once more.

“That's a good dear. Take your time now,” came the same soothing voice.

It took a few moments for Rick to fight his eyes open, but when he did, what he saw both terrified and humbled him. Sitting on the end of his bed was a woman who, if he didn't know better, he wouldn't guess was any older than thirty. He looked up her body, through her brown-blonde hair, and into the deep blue eyes of the most famous witch in Canada.

“Wha-?”

“Margaret Bishop at your service, darling. Some call me 'Minnie'.”

---------

And that's all for this week. The archive will be up in a couple minutes, hopefully. Just waiting on some last minute writefaggings, because apparently I'm the only one that finishes this shit ahead of time. Any comments, criticisms are welcome, as always.
>>
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>>20157714
>mfw

My good man, I may be a Texan in addition to an amateur military historian, but even I know what the Texas was. And that was utterly obsolete by 1941. It had piss-poor armor, an extremely cramped armament, and an extremely slow power plant. If it had gotten in a fight with anything but shore batteries it would have gotten its shit kicked in.
>>
Back after lagging it. Here's Chapter 2.

---

“Nothing new…”

Weber viewed the village through the scope of his rifle, tracking any Martian movement. Meanwhile, the rest of the team was behind Weber, kneeling down on the ground in a U-shape, looking down on an ad-hoc map of the hamlet that Bonnard had made with a couple of rocks and sticks.

Two vertical rows, with two small squares in each row, signified the four houses that were there. On top of those rows lay a bigger square with an X inside; that was the double-door church. And to the left of the square signifying the church was a rectangle, indicating a barn.

Three rocks were in the space between the houses and the church. Those were Martians, who had set up a maser emplacement that faced the houses. Two more rocks had been placed in front of the houses, with two lines that connected to them. Those were the other two Martians that were patrolling the area. The first line went left, going to the barn before heading back through the center, and the second line went the other way. Both of them would meet up with the other three.

Jackson looked out to the hamlet, surveying the area. Even with nightfall, their approach would be visible. Any attempt would have to be timed just as the patrolling Martians started turning their backs. The forest had an extension to the left, providing some cover and concealment to a flanking attack.
A stealth attack would be difficult; the two patrolling guards could be taken out easily, but the maser emplacement would be harder to take out. Worse yet, there could be Martians in the houses, church, and barn. If anything slipped up, the attackers could be surrounded. A frontal assault would be suicidal; masers had a good tendency to make a good fire out of people.
>>
>>20159104
Jackson made up his mind. Calling Weber over to the rest of the group, he started to speak.

“Here’s the plan: Tarasov, you and me will approach the village.”
“How?”

“We’ll split up. You take care of the Martian on the left; I’ll take care of the one on the right. Make it as silent as possible. We stop at the edges of the houses farther from us.”

“What about the maser emplacement?” Bonnard asked.

“That’s the fun part.” Jackson said with a small smile. “Tarasov, throw a grenade at the maser. You’re better at getting them to where we want it to explode than me.”

“They’ll know we’re here.”

Jackson nodded. “I know, Bonnard.”

“I assume you have an idea where the rest of us are going to go, then?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Jackson pointed at the forest extension. “You and Weber will cover Tarasov and the barn.”
>>
>>20159119
“And what about the Corporale and I, Captain?” Ward asked. “Sit around and watch the fireworks?”

“In a manner of speaking. Both you and Maldini are gonna cover the central path to the church. Any Martian that comes out of the houses once things go loud, put a round in them.”

“Why thank you, Captain, for being so considerate,” Ward said jokingly. “This Bren was starting to be a bit heavy.”

“Don’t forget, you’re stuck with me.” Maldini said.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Once all squids are dealt with, move in. Weber, Bonnard, clear the barn. Maldini, Ward, clear the houses. Tarasov and I will clear the church. Understand?”

All of them nodded.

“Good.”

Jackson looked at the hamlet, and saw the Martians starting their patrol once again.

“Let’s go.” Jackson stood up, motioning Tarasov to follow him out of the forest. Weber and Bonnard headed to left, finding a position to set up in. Ward moved up, went prone, and set the bipod on his Bren. Maldini went into a crouching position nearby Ward.
>>
>>20159124
Jackson and Tarasov went into a crouch run, heading quickly towards the wall of the houses closer to the forest. Tarasov went left, while Jackson went right, reaching the corners of the houses.

Taking a peek out of the corner, Jackson saw the Martian still going about its patrol, unaware of him. He looked back at Tarasov and gave him a hand signal:

[Move.]

Tarasov nodded, and went around the corner.

Jackson did the same, and approached the Martian as silently as possible. The Martian didn’t notice Jackson until the wooden stock of the Thompson hit it across the back of its cranium, knocking it down to the ground. A quick stab to the back of the head finished it off.

Jackson slowly approached the gap between the two houses, with Thompson at the ready. He leaned out, only to see a Martian lying down on the ground. Tarasov was nearing his position.

He moved to the corner of the farthest house and waited for Tarasov to go.
>>
>>20159124
Tarasov took out a No. 69 grenade, readying himself. Twisting the cap off, he popped out of the corner, and threw the grenade up in the air before ducking back behind the corner. It landed right in the middle of the three Martians serving the maser emplacement and blew up in a lethal shower of Bakelite.

The explosion stirred up movement from the Martians. Three of them burst out of the barn, right in front of Tarasov, and five of them were coming out of one of the houses, wondering what the hell just happened.
Tarasov fired a burst of .45 ACP at the Martian closest to him, striking the Martian and killing him instantly. The other two aimed their weapons at Tarasov, ready to turn him into slag. A shot rang out from the left, penetrating one of the Martians from the side. The other Martian was brought down with another shot from the left.

The four Martians in the center and the one near the church only faced left before a stream of .303 rounds came out, putting three Martians down on the floor. Two Martians ran towards the church, hoping to find cover from the deadly hail of lead.

All they got was a burst of .45 ACP to their cranial regions, courtesy of Jackson.

In a minute, eight Martians were down.
>>
>>20159139
Jackson and Tarasov wasted no time in setting up a breaching position on the entrance to the church.
Double doors. Jackson and Tarasov grabbed the handles and pulled the doors slightly towards them. The doors gave way a bit, indicating that they opened outwards and were not locked.

“Ready?” Jackson whispered. Tarasov gave a quick nod. If there were any Martians still left, well…there was a reason doors were called “vertical coffins”.

The doors swung open in a second. With Thompsons readied, Tarasov went in, with Jackson following him.


Both of them slowly approached the altar. Thank God no Martian decided to pop out, Jackson thought. Still, never hurt to be cautious.

The church itself was small, with a stained-glass window in the middle. To the right of that was a closed door, a room of some sort. If there were any Martians still living, they could very well be there.

Still walking towards the altar, Jackson noticed a cylindrical object on the floor, behind the altar.

[Halt.]

Tarasov stood still as Jackson went left, inching closer and closer.

Finally, he saw what the cylindrical object was: a heat-ray still clutched by a slumping Martian. It stood still as Jackson approached it. Was it waiting for a point-blank shot?

As it turned out, he didn’t need to worry. There was a hole on the top of its head, with the floor visible through it. It was consistent with a shot…from a heat-ray. Jackson was stunned.

A Martian committing suicide? Strange. But it was one less squid to deal with, at least.
>>
>>20159146
“Tarasov, the door.” Jackson whispered quickly. “Open and clear.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tarasov approached the door, Jackson behind him. The door swung open and both of them went in.

“Oh shit…” Tarasov muttered. Inside were six human bodies, laid out haphazardly. All of them wore the brown Battle Dress of the British Army and had the albatross, anchor, and Thompson on their shoulder patch.

“Time to get started.” Jackson said quietly, patting Tarasov on the shoulder as he went ahead of him.
Taking the tags was a matter of pulling or cutting the cords out, but both of them couldn’t help but see the holes formed in their fellow commandos. The lucky ones only had them on their bodies. The rest had a new hole in the middle of their foreheads, courtesy of the Martians. At least they had a sense of mercy, Jackson thought.

“Captain?” Tarasov asked while pulling the cord off one of the bodies.

“Yeah?”

“It…” Tarasov hesitated for a moment before continuing on. “It never gets any easier, right?”
>>
>>20159161
Jackson remembered the bodies, laid out on the streets of the cities of the Midwest. Didn’t matter if you were military or civilian, young or old; the Martians would kill anyone that would get in the way. And their bodies would be the first thing to see as you walked down a newly-liberated street.

The worst sight to him was all the bodies piled up in the churches. People prayed to God for help, to protect them from the Martians, to live another day. All it did was giving the Martians a convenient place to bottleneck humans, aim their guns, and kill.

In both situations, you just gradually got used to seeing the bodies. But the uneasy and nasty feeling of seeing dead bodies shot and torn up stayed with him.

“To be honest,” Jackson said, never even taking a glance at Tarasov, “I don’t know. I’m sort of used to seeing this, but I think the feeling hasn’t gone away.”

“…I see.” Tarasov pulled out an ID tag from one of the bodies. Four down. “…Sorry, Captain, that was idiotic of me.”

“The question?” Jackson replied as he got to the fifth body. “No, it was-“

Something caught Jackson’s eye, though. The man had suffered a wound to the chest, but at first glance, it seemed as though the only hole was the one made in his uniform. Upon further inspection, the heat ray wound was still there. However, it had been largely healed with some sort of substance that somehow closed the wound off. Furthermore, rashes were present on the dead man’s face.

“What the hell? Hey, Tarasov.”

“Yeah?”

“Come over here, take a look at this.”
>>
>>20159171
Jackson pointed out the rashes and the closed wound. Tarasov was stumped. Humanity had the ability to heal such wounds, but that was a matter of keeping the stricken from not dying of shock and having Witches with healing abilities treat them.

“Never seen anything like this, Captain.”

“Yeah…Tarasov, check the last body there.” Jackson said, pointing to one that was face-down. Tarasov moved towards the body and rolled it up.

Rashes on his skin, and a treated gut shot. The very same thing happened here, too.

“Same here, sir.” Nearby, there was a container of some sort, labeled with strange symbols.

“Captain,” Tarasov said, showing the container to him. “Recognize this?”

It took a while for Jackson to recognize the thing. A long time had passed since he had seen one, and suddenly, the healed wounds made sense.

“Yeah… a Martian medkit. I remember seeing them back in the States.”

“I see…should I call Corporale Maldini in here?”

“Do so. Check on the others while you’re at it.”

“Yes, sir.” Tarasov handed over the tags to Jackson before leaving.
>>
>>20159181
Jackson stood on guard as Maldini checked out the bodies. According to him, the houses only contained No. 1 Commando’s belongings and ammo, as well as a melted radio. The barn, on the other hand, proved to be an even greater prize. Bonnard and Weber found the Jeeps, still seemingly intact. Tarasov was checking them to see if the Martians had tampered with them.

“Maldini, thoughts?”

Maldini let out a sigh before speaking. “The container’s definitely a Martian medkit. Remember seeing them when I was back with the Monte Cervino.”

“And the bodies?”

“I would think that the Martians treated them. Wouldn’t put it past me that they know how to treat wounds from their own weapons.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Jackson replied. “The thing is, why?”

“Probably to test out how it works on humans. Probably because they have feelings too.”

“Funny.”

Maldini chuckled a bit before continuing on. “Still, the rashes suggest we react negatively to their medicine. But I can’t say that’s what killed them. They might have died from the shock.”

“Mhm…alright then, let’s get out of here.”

As both of them left the church, the thought of Martians possibly experimenting on wounded humans bothered Jackson. It wasn’t like them to start treating humans, so why would they do so? To get some sick pleasure out of it? Or was there an actual purpose?

Fuck it, he said to himself. He could have the time to worry about it later.
>>
>>20159190
Everybody else gathered around the barn, waiting for Jackson and Maldini to arrive. They had all heard about the bodies through Tarasov. It was never a good feeling to hear such things.

“So, did you find out anything, Corporale?” Bonnard asked.

“About the two bodies? Looks like the Martians treated them. Don’t know if they were killed by whatever was in that medkit or by shock.”

“Hmm…” Bonnard kept silent and nodded.

“…Poor bastards.” Jackson caught that from Ward’s mouth. Sure, they were human and fellow commandos, but to Ward, they were also his fellow countrymen.

Jackson decided to let Ward be right now. “Tarasov, how are the Jeeps?”

“Double-checked them, sir. No tampering by Martians.”

“Good.”
>>
>>20159194
Jackson looked over at the Jeeps. They were lined up vertically, and both were equipped with a Vickers .50 cal on the mount with the passenger side carrying dual-mounted Vickers K guns.

“We also found this, Captain.” Tarasov handed over a bag that was placed on the back of the second Jeep. Inside contained several smaller bags that smelled of diesel, as well as some cylindrical-shaped objects.
“…Lewes bombs with pencil detonators. Nice.”

Giving the bag back to Tarasov, Jackson took out a map of the area, and laid it around the hood of the first Jeep. “Form up.”

Everyone did so and waited for Jackson to speak.

“Well, you know what HQ said: if the team from No. 1 cannot accomplish their mission…”

“…we are tasked with completing it for them.” Ward said.

“Right.” Jackson put his finger on a section of the map. “Here is where we are. Over there…”
He dragged his finger up and to the left, stopping at an airfield. “…is our target.”

“The objective was to clear the six AA guns on that field in preparation for a bombing raid, as well as destroy any Martian craft that are there. We can use the Jeeps for destroying the craft.”

“Like the SAS and the LRDG?” Ward asked.

“Exactly.”

Bonnard spoke up. “Then what about the AA guns? They could tear the Jeeps apart.”

“We’ll keep the Jeeps in a safe position while two of us are going to plant Lewes bombs on the AA guns.”
“…I’m assuming we’re using pencil detonators to give us time to get back?” Maldini asked.

“The area’s been cleared, though, Captain.” Weber said. “We could use the outlying woods to cover the jeeps, but getting to the AA guns will be a challenge.”

“Right…the approaching party will have to go slow and low.”
>>
>>20159204
“Anyway,” Jackson dragged his finger to a section of the coast of France circled in red. “once we’re done, we get here for extraction.”

“Hopefully, the Little Pisser’ll come through.” Ward said.

“Yeah, hopefully.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Weber asked.

“Get ready to swim. Sound like a plan?”

Everyone nodded. It was a risky plan, sure. But they knew what had to be done.

“Alright then. Tarasov, you’re driving this Jeep, Maldini, you’re driving the one in back.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bonnard, Weber, you’re going with Maldini. Ward and I will go with Tarasov.”

“Okay.”

Tarasov and Maldini took their spots in the driver’s seat. Bonnard sat in the passenger seat of the second Jeep, while Weber took the mount.

Ward took the first Jeep’s mount, and Jackson took the first Jeep’s passenger seat.
“Tarasov, let’s roll.”

The engines started, and soon, both Jeeps were on their way forward. Jackson took the time to wonder about the church. A Martian committing suicide? Never knew they would do something like that. But the two men were the ones that were stuck on his mind the most.

---
Whew, done.
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ALRIGHT. Firefox fixed, writefags finished, all my addons gone. Meh. Here is archive. Have fun.

http://www.mediafire.com/?aeab9kqq3daxg47


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