>>22826777
[x] MORE FOOD

Also, time for No'op.

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>>22826777
How's that field length treating you?

>MORE FOOD
>WIMMINZ
>FRIENDS

All three. It's good to be the King.

>>22826777

>WIMMINZ

>>22826777
>>MORE FOOD
As if there'd be females on this ball of mud.

>>22826777
FRIENDS

>>22826777
>WIMMINZ
Obviously.

>FRIENDS

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What you need is food, and friends, and wimminz. So many wimminz. ALL THE WIMMINZ. Primarily, first and foremost, after months and months of hard fighting all alone, you want and need wimminz, with the tentacles that go ALLLLL the way up.

Yeah.

So you saunter on down to the medical ward. The Continental Hive is vast, but you're only a few lift tubes away from the main medical facility. You pass a few stunned and drowsy Marines in the halls as you head for it - apparently that little psionic shouting match in the psi-amp chamber was pretty "loud."

Arriving at your destination, you fling the doors open grandly.

"LAAAAAADIES~" you proclaim.

Thirty-odd nurses look up at you.

Thirty-odd nurses look down at the floor and go very silent.

>Something's wrong. How do you break the ice?

>>22826967
>"Okay... what's wrong. Nobody gets a greeting like that unless something is very, very wrong..."

>>22826967

If there are no votes by the time I cook and eat a Shwan's corn-dog, I will be forced to do a Planefag Special.

No, not like that you perverts, goddamn

>>22826967
"What? No. No! I'm not a Warmind! I just beat his ass up!"

"I'm not about to psychically dominate you!"

>>22826967
>"Ladies. I have assumed control. Come... _massage_ me.

>>22826967
"What? Is there something on my face? Is my beret on backwards?"

>>22826967
Hey is our killy bot following us. That might scare them? Or maybe the last warmind to visit was an ass so we should prove we are not one (at least of ladies).

Wow, someone didn't think this through.


"Are those tentacles on your bodies or are you happy to see me?"

>>22826967
"Look at your patient. Now back to me. Now back at your patient. Now back to me. Sadly, he's not me. But he could have psychic powers like me if he stopped getting smacked around by humans and started working his brain-meats."

>>22827048
Kyaaa~

What are you going to do to us~?

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It takes you a second to remember you're wearing a Warmind's cap - and into this lull enters the Clown from stage right.

"WHAT ARE YOU STANDING AROUND FOR?" someone screeches. "I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR LAYABOUTS!"

Your headcase rotates slowly to find the source of the screaming. Shortly, a male martian in administrative garb saunters in just like you did, throwing his tentacles around like he owns the place; probably because he does. You narrow your eyes at him as you recognize the tell-tale stench of the BAW; the Bastard Asshole Windbag.

He espies you almost immediately. "Ah- Warmind!" he says, bowing and scraping apologetically. "My most humble apologies, we received no advance warning of a new transfer. Our facilities are yours to command."

So a bully and a kiss-ass all in one - truly a BAW worth busting. "I'm no transfer," you snap. "I'm the Warmind in charge."

"That c-cant be!" the BAW stutters. "My Warmind is tall, and mysterious-"

"Yeah, he had an accident," you growl, advancing on the administrator menacingly. "I'M YOUR WARMIND NOW."

"W-what are you going to do?" he stutters.

You eye the nurses, who are all watching from the corners of their eyes while trying to look demure and subjugated.

"I'm going to do a PERFORMANCE REVIEW."

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You slowly scan the roomful of nurses and start weaving back and forth with mysterious, sinuous motions. You know them well from the many night's you've sinuously wound your way home after a good, proper bender. "I am scanning your miiinds ooooh~"

"Wh- we didn't do anything!" one of the nurses squeaks, before covering her mouth with her tentacles, horrified.

"No, but I can see what HE has done... and I can see that he's a jackass!" you exclaim, pointing at the administrator.

"Wh- wha- what are you going to do to me!?" the administrator mumbles, cowering.

You lean in threateningly.

"ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL."

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A deathly silence fills the air for many long seconds as everyone holds their breath, waiting for the eerie golden glow to fill the administrators eyes, the fabled and feared sign of the most hideously powerful mind-tech ever created by Warminds in the history of planet Mars.

The administrator opens his eyes.

"Nothing's ha-"

"HA!" you scream, seizing his tentacles in yours. With the muscles of a combat-tested shock trooper, you proceed to whip the shit out of him with his own appendeges.

"STOP HITTING YOURSELF STOP HITTING YOURSELF STOP HITTING YOURSELF STOP HITTING YOURSELF STOP HITTING YOURSELF-"

After a few minutes of this, the administrator manages to squirm free and flumphs out of the room as fast as his tentacles can carry him, screaming bloody murder.

And thirty-odd nurses begin cheering like mad.

>WIMMINZ AQQUIRED
>Take care of WIMMINZ?
>Aqquire FOOD or FRIENDS?
>OTHER?

>>22827453
The WIMMINZ need FOOD if we also run into FRIENDS they can come too.

>>22827453
>Take care of WIMMINZ?

We've seen enough hentai to know where this is going.

>>22827453
take care of WIMMINZ and FOOD, acquire FRIENDS

>>22827453
Acquire FOOD with WIMMINZ, grab FRIENDS on the way.

>>22827453

>Take care of WIMMINZ by acquiring FOOD.

It's time for a party!

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>wimmnz

"LAAADIES!" you shout, rising to your full height, "To celebrate the firing of Loser McDickwad, I propose we repair to the mess!"

Cheers.

"The OFFICERS mess!"

VERY LOUD cheers, this time. You lead from the front, marching with crisp military flumphing as the nurses fall in line behind you. One look at your WarMind beret and the guards at the door swallow prodigiously and let you and your entourage pass. Soon the mess is filled with the happy chatter of pleased nurses as they que up to get some actual high-quality food, instead of the trash they pass off to the enlisted.

As you liberate a big bowl of creamylish, you notice a few officers walk in. High-ranking officers, in fact - high enough to make you sweat. You brace for the inevitable double-take and barked demands for explanations, but bizarrely, they take no notice of the enlisted nurses cramming the place, but just make straight for the hot-drink machines, a haggard and strained look in their eyes.

As they mill about, you hear them talking...

>>22827657
so, is the only uniform/rank insignia the aliums rock varieties on the theme of hats?

>>22827453
My sides!

>>22827831


Well, they do have tentacles. Without tattooing on rings and markings, sleeves ain't exactly easy. And they don't exactly have ears for easy marking either.

Hats have the advantage of being visible, swappable, all that stuff.

Plus, unlike tentacle tattoos, you don't have to cut them off if they get demoted. Though if they DO get demoted, that might not be your first concern.

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"-colossal waste of resources," you hear one saying as you slide closer.

"They have a point," another one chimes in. "The submerged insertion ship has the most success of any of the decapitation raids we launched."

"It's STILL dreadnaught thinking," the other man complains. "Look how well that worked out for us in the air. It's the same shit, just underwater. Too many eggs in one basket."

"They don't have half the underwater operational capacity that we-"

"And we do?" the third officer says, speaking for the first time. "We were totally unprepared for the oceans here. Who's to say one strategy is better then another?"

"That's my POINT!" the first officer bitches, slapping the drink machine with one tentacle, urging it to dispense faster. He takes a much-needed slurp of coffee and sighs weakly. "We need more effective weapons, not more hair-brained superweapon concepts. Like this-" he produces a folded document from a belt-pouch, but before he can unfurl it he's interrupted.

"A day late and a killystick short," the other officer opines, waving him off. "We need to strike with overwhelming force, hit them from an unexpected direction before they can rally. The sub is the best way to do that. They don't have global air mobility like we do; their logistical ability to co-operate is completely reliant on their navy-"

"-and our air mobility is completely reliant on orbital-capable dreadnaughts!" the first officer almost screams, slamming his now-empty mug into the drink-machine counter. "And it's kind of hard to build those without the Forges back on Mars and what little capacity we DO have is being used on this TARD-TACULAR PROJECT INSTEAD OF MANUFACTURING REPLACEMENTS!"

And then, unfortunately, you are spotted.

"YOU! WARMIND!" the very angry officer shouts. "WHAT'S *YOUR* OPINION ON THIS!?"

>wut say

>>22828042
"I think adaptability is the soul of inertia, and any project we undertake that helps us keep inertia is going to be advantageous on SOME level."

>sip coffee

"Also, meet my harem."

>>22828042
"What if we take all of our forces, and send them in a straight line at the humans? Overwhelm them with numbers because tactics sure ain't working out."

>>22828042
"I believe that we should have stayed in orbit and finished complete orbital bombardment with chemical weapons on all major population centers and manufacturing facilities before even attempting a ground invasion.
"But since we're here, anything that can keep up the pressure on the enemy and maintain our strategic momentum should be explored."

>>22828042

Sip coffee.

"Tactics aren't working. For some reason, they're far more rage-tacular than we are. Clearly, the solution is to build SURFACE vessel warships like theirs, and start raping their shipping."

>>22828042
>We were totally unprepared for the oceans here.

Why the fuck did they invade whitout being prepared then? I mean, what the fuck did they expect out of a planet covered 95% in freaking goddamn water? It's fucking everywhere!!!!

>>22828042
"Frankly, I think we shoukd just NOPE the fuck back to Mars. This shithole ain't worth the effort.

>>22828042

"Clearly, you all need rest and/or [Martian alcohol]."

>Sip coffee

"Who wants to party with some nurses?"

>>22828042
"Wait...you're saying that none of our astronomers nor our top generals decided to fucking look at this rock before sending us here?! What in blazes did they think that blue shit was? Jelly? And why did we not launch more orbital strikes? They have nothing that can hit us in orbit...yet"

>>22828042
"Needs more killystick."

>>22828042
>>22828042
The only places where they have trouble hitting us hard is in space and under the ocean. Obvious we should go where they can't hit us.

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"... welllllll," you drawl, trying to sound mysterious and clever. ""I think adaptability is the soul of inertia, and any project we undertake that helps us continue to develop that inertia is..."

You sigh. Try as you might, this horse-shit just isn't your speed.

'I think we need to sink the fucking battleships shelling our troops all over the place pronto," you say. "I think building any big submujigger is useless unless we have actual weapons to mount on it. Masers are great but half the time they don't cut it. I think-"

"YES!" the first officer says, snapping his document open at last. "See, I had the eggheads cook this baby up."

You all lean in to look at it.

"It's a surface-skimming weapon. Utilizes a kind of underwater wing, called a 'hydrofoil," and standard ioncraft lifters to achieve high speeds over the surface."

"So... a torpedo? But it's on the surface," the third, calmer officer observes. "It can be shot down."

"But it's cheaper then the earthman weapons," Angry Officer counters. "Theirs are basically miniature submersibles. And if they're on the surface, we can guide them; electromagnetically."

"Why not submerged?"

Angry Officer shakes his head. "Can't get radio waves through very much water, at all."

"Antenna sticking up through the water?"

"At that depth it's still just as vulnerable to strafing," the Angry Officer replies. "The only way to get through twenty feet of water with a control signal is..."

They all look at you.

"And there's not enough of us to go around," you finish primly. They all nod, disgusted.

>>22828042
I always thought we should abandon the ocean campaign and fill the salt water with a self-fixing proteinous compound. Turn all that blue shit into jelly, just like the original plans called for.

>>22828495
>alium cruise missiles/anti-ship missiles
well, fuck

>>22828528
> implying humans weren't experimenting with that shit in ww2.

>>22828528
I doubt that they'll have enough, that is if their politics doesn't make this project stillborn.

B-but they have new warships in Corsair Witches! They nearly take out Rome with them!

Y-you've read that, haven't you, planefag-kun?

P-planefag-kun?...

>>22828519

As much as I love the idea of being able to eat our way from shore to shore, you know as well as I do that all the trials came out blorchberry flavor. EVERYONE hates blorchberries. And having an entire ocean of the stuff?

Ugh.

>>22828876
>please respond
>>22828882
Better than whatever idiot thought we should make it Droot Punch. Not only does it come out a disgusting yellow-green, it also tastes like recycled evacuation suits

>>22828876
I'm not sure if that really counts due to A) the writer dropping it and B) the flow of things being way too close to the original strike witches.

>>22828934
Yeah. Corsair Witches wasn't really one of the better writefag things.

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"Whatever," the third officer, the calm one, says with a sigh. "It's far above our pay-grade anyways. Excrement flows downhill, and guess where we are?" He fills his cup and drains it just as fast. "Anyway. How's your egg-head doing?"

"The civvie?"

"Yeah."

"Good as advertised. Somebody from PsyOps recommended him-" the Subs Are Awesome officer cuts his eyes at you, then continues - "-and you really can't ignore a recommendation like that. He's already had some insights into the manling behavior."

"Good... good," the calm officer says, turning Angry Officer's schematic around in his tentacles. "Between him... and this... we might finally nail number forty-four."

"Who?"

"A particularly irritating manling surface dreadnaught," he snarls. "That always manages to be exactly where it should not be."\

>A Grunt in an Officer Country mess. What an opprtunity!
>Ask about WAR? (specific question?)

>A Grunt in an Officer Country mess. What an opportunity!

>"A particularly irritating manling surface dreadnaught," he snarls. "That always manages to be exactly where it should not be."

the USS California?

>>22828993
>Ask about WAR? (specific question?)

"Tell me more about this 'Forty Four'."

>>22828993

>A Grunt in an Officer Country mess. What an opprtunity!

Go go make a grunt's day!

>>22828993
>have we come up with any countermeasures for those damn psionics?
>Tell me more of this fourty four

>Strange grunt in a strange land

>>22828993
>Ask about WAR?
So ... how about them witches eh? TOP priority should be getting us some flying Martian panties if you ask me.

I just want to know Martian opinion on witches.

Getting late chaps and I need to be up early tomorrow, so I'm calling it a night here. But I CAN tell you thus:

1. Yes, they're talking about the California and
2. They view witches kind of like opposing WarMinds. Similiar in many respects, including scarcity.

>>22829260
Sounds good.

>>22828993
"How do witches figure into this? And what's this about 44?"

>>22829322
It's 7:30, mang. Or did you move or something?

>>22829322
>Similiar in many respects, including scarcity.

We're working on that, intensly.

>>22829322
is there a definite time for next thread, or is it up to the will of the fates?

Someone tell 'em to stick a wire behind that torpedo. Best of both worlds.

has anyone archived this?

>>22829322
You're going to leave us with an unresolved 'what do?' and no ETA of next thread? where is the real fap angle and what have you done with him

>>22831955
Nope. We best change that.

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>>22832892
And done. Good job me!

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>>22833086
thanks minnapup