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>>33798990
[2/2]

“Get up, this is important!” Commander Bucholz says.

“Can it wait…” Lieutenant McCawlay sleepily tightens her grip around Lieutenant Walker. Lieutenant Walker indeed grumbles a bit.

“Yes. Sure. It can wait, in fact, take the whole day off.”

Lieutenant McCawlay looks up, sleepy eyes and everything. “Really?”

“No.” With a well-aimed toss, McCawlay ends up with a pair of white trousers over her eyes. Commander Bucholz clicks her heels and says, “I expect you all bright and early. Hurry up and get dressed.” She looks over at you, expectantly. “That means you, Sergeant.”

You nod. She calls you Sergeant at least. But everyone here calls you Rookie. At least you aren’t a Jeep Jockey. But that’s a different story. This is your existence as part of the European Resistance Operations in Southern Gallia, waking up, going on patrol to hunt the mysterious enemy known as the Neuroi (or Roy as some like to call them), and making safe the citizens of the world. You have the power of over a hundred men, with the ability to fight Neuroi on their terms and then some. With specialized “brooms” known as Striker Units, you are a defender of liberty and humanity. You are a Strike-

“Hey!” Lieutenant Rachel McCawlay rifles through her footlocker, grumbling. “Rookie! I’m missing my lucky trousers again. Can I borrow yours?”

> “Borrow someone else’s!”
> “Fine.”
> “Just wear any old pair, it’s not like luck matters.”
> Write in

>>33798998
>"No, I'm wearing my lucky trousers."

>>33798998
> "But I need my lucky trousers!"

>>33798998
>“Fine.”
We have many trousers, if believing them to be a lucky pair makes her perform better, then fine.

>>33798998
> “Borrow someone else’s!”
> Were wearing them today
What's the point of wearing someone else's lucky trousers?

>>33798998
>“Only if you call me Sergeant.”

>>33798998
> "But I need my lucky trousers!"
> Be disgruntled over the Commander patting Daphne's butt and not ours.

>>33798998
> "What about my luck then!"

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> “Borrow someone else’s!”
> Write in

You huff, pointing your nose up in the air as you hold up your lucky trousers. “I need my lucky trousers! Borrow someone else’s, Lieutenant!” You step into the holes, then pull them up, and snap the band taut. “I’m sure if you kept better track of your personal effects, you wouldn’t need to borrow mine!”

Lieutenant Walker nods as she pulls her trousers up as well. “Rookie’s got a point, Rach.”

“Oh shaddup,” says Lieutenant McCawlay. “I don’t suppose I can borrow yours?”

Lieutenant Walker smirks. “You’re going to have to take them from me, how about that?” She’s answered by Lieutenant McCawlay grabbing her arms and pushing her down onto the bed. You roll your eyes as the two Lieutenants wrestle each other for control of the trousers as you head to the bathroom.

One of the many benefits of waking up early, not having to share the showers with the Lieutenants. They get VERY frisky. You rub your hair a bit as you start brushing your teeth.

…

Someone’s been ruffling your hair at night. You don’t know who it is, but it’s been happening the past few weeks or so, and it’s kind of freaking you out. Daphne does sleep in the bed next to you, she might know something.

[1/2]

>>33799608
[2/2]
…

…

The Mess Hall was packed with both Enlisted Airmen of the Bomber Squadron on base and the Commissioned Officers who led them. The entire 509th JFW, despite their status as an unofficial mascot of the Squadron AND being one of the most valuable assets, had trouble getting any kind of food at all. Luckily for you, you snagged some scrambled eggs, a bit of toast, and a slice of chewy bacon.

No Bleu de Gex though. Shame.

You look around. Lots of enlisted airmen chatter and speculate on the nature of the mission today. You see the 509th at their own table as well, with a hole between Vera and Daphne, with Carla and Karen sitting around them. The Lieutenants sit across from them, boasting and bragging as usual, along with stealing some food off the very sleepy Vera.

You also see Commander Bucholz, sitting with three Officers, a Major and two Captains. The Major is that surprisingly familiar man whom you fail to recognize despite everything, but the two Captains escape your recollection.

Who to sit with?

> Sit with the 509th.
> Sit with the Enlisted Airmen
> Sit with Commander Bucholz and the Officers
> Write in

>>33799631
> Sit with the 509th.
Let's ask about the ruffling.

>>33799631
> Sit with the 509th.
No need to start any rumors about us and the Commander
No matter how true they are

>>33799631
> Sit with the 509th.
Time to solve the Case of the Ruffled Hair

>>33799631
>> Sit with Commander Bucholz and the Officers
I feel like this one won't win, but I foster a vague hope that Bucholz is the one doing the ruffling.

>>33799631
> Sit with the 509th.
A grim mystery has descended on this base, gentlegirls. It needs solving, ASAP, or my hair will never be the same again.

>>33799717
Sorry 'bout that.

>>33799631
>Sit with the 509th.
Ruffled hair mystery and filthy sempai comedy.
Which pair are our lucky ones? The ones we were wearing when we spent the night with Bucholz?

>>33799631
> Sit with the 509th.

>>33799717
As do I.

>>33799631
> Sit with the Enlisted Airmen

>>33799717
If you look on the ask.fm you'll see that it's Daphne doing it.

>>33799717
She'd have to come down from the castle to the barracks in the middle of the night without anyone noticing. I find this unlikely.

I reckon it's Daphne, the yanks would ruffle each other, not us, the jap is too innocent, the Romagnian is a heavy sleeper, the night witch is busy at night and I don't think the commander is feasible.

>>33799631
> Sit with the 509th.

> Sit with the 509th.

“Well, hey, not brownnosing Bucky for once, it’s the one and only Rookie!” says Lieutenant Walker as you sit down between Daphne and Vera. Daphne scoots to give you room, while Vera grumbles, half asleep and barely conscious as Carla and Daisy continue to steal food off her plate. Daisy reaches for a particularly delicious slice of bacon, but you slap her hand.

“Ow!” Daisy pouts, rubbing her hand. “That hurt, Rookie! I could have you court-martialed for striking a superior!”

You roll your eyes. “Really.”

Rachel chuckles a bit. “Anyway, we were just talking to Karen about some tips of the trade, secrets, that sort of stuff. Nothing you’d be interested in.”

Karen says, “Rachelnee-senpai is very informative about how to do a fast strafe without having to use shields!” Probably all in the WEP anyway. “I would have known she would know something about this considering her experience in the Doolittle Raid.”

Rachel’s smile drops a bit. “Yeah, Doolittle, all that. But, that’s irrelevant.”

“Besides!” says Carla as she quickly stands up, then scoots the entire row down so she can stuff herself between a surprised Airmen and Karen. “I know better than some Liberion!” She raises her arm wide. “Let me regale you about the story of the Capital-class Neuroi!”

> “Do any of you know what the mission is today?”
> “Someone’s been messing my hair in the night, is it one of you?”
> “That Major Commander Bucholz is sitting with is familiar, who is he?”
> Write in

>>33799940
> “Someone’s been messing my hair in the night, is it one of you?”
> “That Major Commander Bucholz is sitting with is familiar, who is he?”

>>33799940
> “Someone’s been messing my hair in the night, is it one of you?”
Why won't yu do it while I'm awake so it'll feel good?!

>>33799940
>“That Major Commander Bucholz is sitting with is familiar, who is he?”
Not jealous or anything!
Then if there is time
> “Someone’s been messing my hair in the night, is it one of you?”

>>33799940
>> “Someone’s been messing my hair in the night, is it one of you?”
>> “That Major Commander Bucholz is sitting with is familiar, who is he?”

Full detective mode engaged!
And we're SO not jealous.

>>33799940
> “Do any of you know what the mission is today?”
> “Someone’s been messing my hair in the night, is it one of you?”
I want to know why Rookie had to get up at such an ungodly hour

>>33799940
> “That Major Commander Bucholz is sitting with is familiar, who is he?”
> “Someone’s been messing my hair in the night, is it one of you?”

>>33799940
>> “That Major Commander Bucholz is sitting with is familiar, who is he?”

>>33799940
> “That Major Commander Bucholz is sitting with is familiar, who is he?”

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> “Someone’s been messing my hair in the night, is it one of you?”
> “That Major Commander Bucholz is sitting with is familiar, who is he?”

You point your thumb back to the Officer’s table. “That Major. He looks familiar, do you guys know him?” You all look back to see him mingle with Commander Bucholz. The two really seem to hit it off, and the Commander even laughs as he holds his hands wide, as if measuring a distance. Ah, that should be you damn it! You could be making the Commander laugh! But no, you’re sitting here with the runts and the enlisted!

Rachel narrows her eyes. “Now that you mention it, he does look slightly familiar. Where have we seen him before?”

Daisy says, “I think he’s Group Operations Officer here. Isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but do you guys know his name?” says Carla. All of you shake your head, saying no or nah. “Huh, I would’ve expected every Liberion to know each other’s names.”

“Hey, Liberion ain’t a farm, you spaghetti bomber,” says Rachel simply. Carla huffs, throwing her arms up. “Maybe he was in a movie or something.”

You nod. “Anyway, guys, beyond that. I wanted to talk to you about something.” The wing quietens down to listen to you. “Someone’s been messing up my hair when I sleep. Do you guys know anything about that?”

…

Daphne quietly scoots away, blushing and whistling innocently as she looks away.

> “Daphne?”
> “So no one then?”
> “Is it all of you!?”
> Write in

>>33800314
> “Is it all of you!?”
> Stare at them fearfully and grasp our hair.

>>33800314
> “Is it all of you!?”
Scoundrels! Hair-perverts!

>>33800314
>Write in
"Well whoever it is, could you please just ask first, it's really uncomfortable not know what's going on."

>>33800357
They're probably been molesting her hair! Twirling it around! Putting their fingers in it! Gasp! M-maybe even LICKING it!

>>33800314
> "Daphne?"

>>33800389
Filthy witches.
> “So no one then Huh??”
> "Or perhaps...perhaps!"
> “Is it all of you!?”
> "After my luscious locks! I won't stand for this you know!"

>>33800314
> “Is it all of you!?”
It's either everyone or a ghost is haunting the barracks

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>>33800314
>> “Daphne?”
Do they even know how much work this hairdo is?

>>33800314
> “Is it all of you!?”

>>33800469
Yes. Because Daphne's the one that styled it for Rookie in the first place.

>>33800314
> “Is it all of you!?”
Paranoid Rookie getting more paranoid by the day.
I hope she gets a name soon.

>>33800513
She will. Mrs. "Rookie" Bucholz.

>>33800510
SSSHHHHHH.

Daphne secretly loves us and wants to spend more time with us.
If it's just haircuts, then that's fine by her.

If Bucholz wasn't our waifu, I'd say go for it!

> “Is it all of you!?”

Oh sweet mother of mercy. “IS IT ALL OF YOU!?” You grab your hair. A few Airmen look your way, curious, but you could care less about that. These people have been assaulting- nay, MOLESTING your hair! “After my luscious locks! I won’t stand for this you know!”

All of the Wing minus Vera nod to Daphne. “It was her,” they all say.

Wait what

Daphne fumes, squeaking a bit like a tea kettle. “Ooooh! You all said you wouldn’t tell!”

“We didn’t promise,” says Rachel simply. The rest of the wing laughs as you and Daphne stew in embarrassment and mortification. Even a few of the Airmen sitting around you laugh and chuckle quietly.

“Rookie, darling!” She holds her hands out to you, flushed red in the cheeks. “It’s not what you think! I just think your hair is so lovely and luscious and I just want to hold it and rub it and…” She’s slowly inching her hands towards you.

> Slap her hands away
> Let her ruffle her hair
> Write in

>>33800568
> Let her ruffle her hair
Freeze in mortification. Secretly enjoy.

>>33800568
>> Let her ruffle her hair

>>33800568
> "N-not unless you ask for permission!"
> Let her ruffle her hair if she asks.

>>33800568
>> Let her ruffle her hair
Don't you get enough of this when you style it Daphne?

>>33800568
>> Slap her hands away
That hair is for other people to ruffle.

>>33800568
> Slap her hands away
Not in public! It's okay in the barracks as long as she tidies it up afterwards.

>>33800568
> You gotta ask for it!
> Let her ruffle her hair
I assume she will.

>>33800568
> Let her ruffle her hair
Rookie is a whore to hair ruffling.

>>33800638
>Implying Rookie isn't a ruffleslut.

>>33800568
> Let her ruffle her hair

As long as she asks.

And no more ruffling while we're asleep.

>>33800568
> "N-not unless you ask for permission!"
> Let her ruffle her hair if she asks.
Yessssss

>>33800638
Incorrect: Rookie's hair is public use, Rookie's butt is Commander's only.

...that Major.
He is James Stewart isn't he?
also,
>Let her ruffle her hair

>>33800725
Other way around, anon. Butts are plebeian, hair is special.

> Let her ruffle her hair

You back away a bit, but you do not stop her when she starts running her fingers through your hair. The rest of the Wing laughs quietly, except for Rachel and Daisy who laugh quite loudly. Even the nearby Airmen are tickled as Daphne starts ruffling at your hair out of nowhere. She wears an expression that’s part embarrassment and part bliss.

You sigh, blushing a little

…

This does feel good. You have to admit that, but next time she has to ask for permission.

…

…

The Briefing room is packed full with Airmen, from all 25 crews of the Squadron. The 509th JFW unfortunately did not get there first, and thus, you all had to stand. “This sucks,” says Carla. “Why should we have to stand?”

An airman looks back at her, smirking. “Hey, fly a Liberator, then see if you complain about being able to stand up at all.” The other two airmen laugh and pat him on the back as Carla huffs. You all lean against the wall, with Vera sleepily leaning on you as the briefing starts.

“Alright.” The familiar Major speaks with a very unique warbly accent. “Our target for today is a cluster of Neuroi nests just south of Munich, about fifty miles. Sergeant, lights for me please.” The briefing room dims down as a projector is put up, revealing the target area.

[1/2]

Bucholz sees, Rookie cries.

>>33801091
[2/2]

“Right. The plan is to rally above Venezia with the other squadrons. The 509th JFW and Focke-Wulfe 190Ds from JG 3 will be escorting us for about halfway to the target. Then we’ll be on our own. In total, it will be a high altitude attack with about 120 aircraft, not including escort. Our bomb load will be intermediate, and our standard altitude will be 25,000 feet.

“Information from our brothers in the Fallschirmjaeger the 509th rescued a week or two back has given us some valuable intel on the area. The nests are well protected by several batteries of Heavy-type Neurois, Gustavs which have absorbed the Flugabwehrkanone ranging from 88mm to 105mm. We can expect predicted concentration fire of lasers and flak once we arrive at the border. The task is to relieve pressure on the Resistance Forces by destroying these nests which deploy and house countless numbers of ground heavies which whip them every day. We keep the pressure on, they’ll start gaining ground again, make liberation of the countries easier.

“We can also expect air types, small-types and a large guarding the area as well. Stay alert.”

An airman raises his hand. “Sir, is this going to end up like Ploiesti?”

The Major shakes his head. “We follow protocol and keep our heads, it should go fine.”

> “What’s Ploiesti?”
> Remain quiet for the rest of the Briefing
> “Why does the escort only follow you for half the run?”
> Write in

>>33801115
> “What’s Ploiesti?”
Yeah, MAJOR.

>>33801115
>> “What’s Ploiesti?”
Ahh crap. Poor airmans.
Better make them pineapple salads now

>>33801115
> “Why does the escort only follow you for half the run?”

>>33801115
> “Why does the escort only follow you for half the run?”

>>33801115
> “What’s Ploiesti?”
Sounds ominous.

>>33801115
>“Why does the escort only follow you for half the run?”

>>33801115
>> Remain quiet for the rest of the Briefing

>>33801115
>> “Why does the escort only follow you for half the run?”
> Write in: Absentmindedly wonder what it would be like to let Commander Bucholz ruffle your hair.

> “What’s Ploiesti?”
> “Why does the escort only follow you for half the run?”

You raise your hand. “Major, sir?” All of the Airmen turn to look at you. Oh boy, stage fright. Um. You blink a bit, smiling. “Um… what’s Ploiesti?”

The Major opens his mouth, pausing a bit to look at the other airmen. Everyone looks at each other, muttering a bit. Finally, an airmen sitting right next to you turns to you. You recognize him actually, he’s Captain Bryce Malone’s ball turret gunner on The Duchess. “Last year, about 180 B-24s made a run in Dacia over Ploiesti, strike at nests going over the oil fields there. It was low and fast.”

“What happen?” Rachel and Daisy clearly look uncomfortable, as does Bucholz up front.

The airman says, “Only about 90 made it back,” as simply as possible. That tells you a lot actually.

You nod. “Well… why do we escort them only halfway? Shouldn’t we follow them for the entire run?”

Commander Bucholz says, “Unfortunately, the long range of the Liberator is also one of its weaker points. As escorts, we simply can’t follow them to the target, we’d run out of energy. Same goes for the 190s, they’d run out of fuel as well.”

The Major says, “Anyway. Let’s get back to the briefing. The Lady Liberty will be lead plane for the Squadron…”

[1/2]

>>33801482
[2/2]

…

…

All of you exit the Briefing room, after a few hours of reviewing the plan and everything. Commander Bucholz leads you to the Jeep, where the Jeep Jockey waits.

“Well, well!” says the Jeep Jockey as you start mounting the Jeep. Commander Bucholz takes the passenger seat, Rachel and Daisy sit on the hood, while Carla, Daphne, Karen, and Vera sit in back. The Jeep Jockey, that fiery young Liberion who first took you to the 509th all those months ago, smiles at you smugly. “If it ain’t the Rookie!”

You nod. “Well, if it isn’t the Jeep Jockey.”

He huffs a bit. “Get in.”

> Sit on the hood
> Sit in back
> Sit as close to Commander Bucholz as possible.
> Write in

>>33801503
> Sit on the hood

Close to the commander of course.

>>33801503
> Sit as close to Commander Bucholz as possible.
Entice her with hair rufflings.

>>33801503
> Sit as close to Commander Bucholz as possible.
Duh

>>33801503
> Sit as close to Commander Bucholz as possible.
>Surreptitiously attempt to indicate she should ruffle your hair
And probably fail, sadly.

>>33801503
>> Sit as close to Commander Bucholz as possible.
This isn't even a choice, boss.

>>33801503
>> Sit as close to Commander Bucholz as possible.

>>33801503
> Sit wherever most convenient and comfortable
> It is time for mission, not time to play around.

>>33801503
>Sit as close to Commander Bucholz as possible.
It's always cute when /tg/ embraces a character's crush.

> Sit as close to Commander Bucholz as possible.

As everyone settles in and finds their footing on something ,you try your best to squeeze in between Commander Bucholz’s seat and Daphne. “Hello, Commander!” you say enthusiastically.

Rachel makes a gagging motion as Commander Bucholz smiles at you. “Sergeant. Good to see you’re in high spirits.”

“Of course!” You rub your hair back. “My hair is a bit messy you know and I was wondering-“ Daphne fumes, puffing her cheeks out and glaring at you as you try to not so subtly get Commander Bucholz to rub your hair.

Commander Bucholz says, “Let’s drive, Jock.”

“That’s not my name,” says the Jeep Jockey. “But fine.”

He starts up the Jeep, and gets you all rolling down the airfield. Rachel and Daisy’s hair flutters in the breeze as they start singing. Carla and Daphne join in, as does the Jeep Jockey. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me… I was once, was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see…”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zdo2uqHVtrw

[1/2]

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>>33801886
[2/2]

As you drive, you see aircrew load bombs into the Liberators, check up on the .50s mounted on the planes, and polish the windows and fix up the engines. The pilots and crew take jeeps to their destination as they chat and discuss the mission, some a bit fatalistic, some simply seeing how cool they look in their flak jackets. Because they look darn cool damn it. The B-24 Liberators are not like the Flying Fortresses you saw in the newsreels, but like the Fortresses they get their own names too: Lady Liberty, the Duchess, Witchcraft, Tornado Alli, Steel Rain, all creative names from their owners.

The Jeep jockey takes you to your Strikers, and you hop out and soon he’s off again. As you walk to your Striker, you look to see Commander Bucholz talking to Vera. Vera looks a bit distressed.

“And you know, I am sorry we cannot bring you aboard for this.” Commander Bucholz has her arms crossed. “You understand, right?”

Vera nods, looking down. “I understand, Commander.”

You tug Carla from her Striker. “Hey, what is the Commander talking about?”

Carla grunts. “Don’t you know? Vera doesn’t have the power to get to high altitude. She can barely get to 150. Of course she’s staying.”

Vera walks over to her Striker, gloomy as she rubs the metallic hull. Poor girl.

> Get your Striker prepared
> Comfort Vera
> Talk to a member of the Wing (Specify)
> Write in

>>33801906
> Comfort Vera
Haha fuck you got mine

>>33801906
> Comfort Vera

>>33801906
> Comfort Vera

>>33801906
>> Comfort Vera
Why don't the mechanics just beef up her engines or whatever?

Pimping her ride would be worth the investment, considering she has super magic powers and such.

>>33801906
>> Get your Striker prepared
Seriously, we have a mission.

>>33802030
Because they might as well just give her new strikers, which she doesn't want because hers has extreme sentimental value to her.

>>33801906
> Get your Striker prepared
> Comfort Vera
Eh, can try both.

>>33802059
And what I'm saying is that improving hers would be worth it. If she won't accept new ones, saying, 'Oh, well we might as well just do nothing' is stupid.

>>33802133
No, I mean with all of the effort you'd have to put into her strikers in order to get them close to spec with the others, you couldn't even call them the same set of strikers anymore. And it's not just the shell that's important to Vera, it's the guts as well: her mother built the entire thing herself, engines and all.

>>33802248
Hmm.

Could we get her some sort of jetpack or something, then?

She really needs to speed up.

>>33801906
>Get your Striker prepared
We have a job to do.

> Comfort Vera

You walk over to Vera and place your hand on her shoulder. “You okay, Vera?”

“I wish I could do more to help,” she says quietly. “I know the Po-2 is nothing to look at it, but it is my life. Mother and Country, I will not use another Striker.” She sighs, turning to face you. “I just wish I could join you up there though.”

You nod. “Well, maybe it will just be a milk run and you won’t miss out on anything.” Vera is quiet at that. “Come on, Vera. Look, we’ll all come home, safe and sound, don’t worry. If anything, the one thing you’re going to regret is coming up there in the first place.”

Vera nods. “Okay.” She takes one last look at her Striker then says, “Well, I suppose I will return to the barracks. Thank you, Rookie.”

“Well, actually, Vera.” You hold your hand up. “You can just call me by my name, it’s-“

Vera is quick to flag down a Jeep and get away from the Wing.

… Damn it.

Rachel hovers off the ground, her Striker roaring as the grass under it dances underneath the blast of the propellers. She looks down at you. “Hey, Rookie! We’re flying in two formations, one above the bombers, one below, take your pick!”

> Above the bombers
> Below the bombers
> “Whichever one Commander Bucholz is in.”
> Write in

>>33802306
I would be fine with Striker Rocketeer Vera.

>>33802376
> “Whichever one Commander Bucholz is in.”
Because really the M2 would do just fine anywhere.

>>33802376
>Below the bombers

>>33802376
>> “Whichever one Commander Bucholz is in.”
Is what I want to do, but can we find a more subtle way to acquire that information or something?

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>>33802376
>“Well, actually, Vera.” You hold your hand up. “You can just call me by my name, it’s-“
I hope we'll never get to our "name your witch here' prompt. Not until the finale.

>>33802376
> Above the bombers
Can't flirt tin the air anyway.

>>33802376
>Above the bombers

>>33802462
I hope we remain unnamed and without nationality for the entire quest.

>>33802467
>Flirt
>Not 'protect your beloved'
You fool!

>>33802522
Rookie is the combined delusions of the squadron and doesn't actually exist.

>>33802522
Actually I think she's supposed to be Gallian. Or at the very least "Not Liberion".

>>33802376
>Above the bombers

>>33802648
I think she's still 'any nationality that flew the Airacobra'. Which is actually quite a number of possibilities.

> “Whichever one Commander Bucholz is in.”

You shrug as you climb into your Bell P-39 Airacobra Striker. “Well… which one is Commander Bucholz taking?”

Rachel smiles, crossing her arms. “She’s flying above with Foobs.”

“Then above then!”

“Alright, Rookie,” says Rachel. “Just keep your eyes on the sky and not on her ass.” She shrugs. “Admittedly, the Commander does have a nice ass but you know, fraternization and what not. Can’t have that you know?”

Plus, you’d probably gut her if that ever happened.

“Anyway, get yourself prepared, let’s get moving.”

You quickly grab your SCR-300 Walkie Talkie and your M2 Browning with spare ammunition. Commander Bucholz hovers around you all, her armor appearing a bit thicker than usual. Karen hands you a very cozy looking jacket. “Here, Rookienee-san!”

You smile. “Thanks, Karen.” You put the jacket on and zip up. It’s probably going to get cold up there. You put the Walkie-Talkie on as well and shoulder the M2 Browning as you all start to fly into formation on the airfield.

“All Aircraft, this is Major Stewart.” The B-24s start taxiing onto the runway, their engines roaring as they start lining up for take off. “Begin take off.”

“509th Joint Fighter Wing!” Commander Bucholz calls. “Move out!”

You all blast off down the runway behind her. The B-24s coming in after.

[1/2]

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>>33802879
[2/2]

…

…

“Navigator.” Major Stewart is quick to call on the radio once you reach the specified 25,000 feet. After an uneventful flight to the Rally Point and meeting with the other escort fighters and the bombers, you all start flying for Karlsland. Clouds dot the landscape here and there, and to your right, you can see the numerous hives which sit over the country of the Ostmark and Karlsland. Right now, the most that buzzes in your ears is the droning of the engines. “What’s our position?”

“We’re approaching the border now, Major,” says Stewart’s navigator. “Recon elements encountered heavy flak out there. Should be another ten minutes at this speed.”

Major Stewart is flying command in the B-24 Liberator “Witchcraft”. Currently in the lead is the Liberator “Lady Liberty”. Lady Liberty is being flown by Captain Wallace Mandelson, and he in fact is the artist of that woman in white bearing a shield with a star on the nose of Lady Liberty. It’s flown over 12 missions, this one being the 13th.

You check everything, everything appears to be in order. You look up to see- Yep, that’s Commander Bucholz’s rear, right in front of you trailing 50 meters. To your right is Daphne. Below the formation are the Lieutenants and Carla and Karen.

Commander Bucholz looks back at you, then grips at her neck for her throat mic. “Sergeant, nervous?”

> “No, ma’am!”
> “A little bit!”
> Remain quiet
> Write in

>>33802900
>No ma'am. At least not any more than I should be.

>>33802900
> “A little bit!”

>>33802900
>“N-no, ma’am!”

>>33802900
>“A little bit!”

>>33802900
> “A little bit!”

File: coolest-cat-around.gif (1.39 MB, 350x350)

1.39 MB GIF

>>33802900
>> “No, ma’am!”

We shouldn't be, guys. Our last daring adventure should of proven that.

>>33802900
> “A little butt!”
>"Bit, a little bit! Bit!"

>>33803238
YOU ARE A MAD GENIUS

I LIKE IT

>>33803238

Seconded with the force of a sun.

> “A little bit!”

You can be honest with the Commander. You swallow your pride, and a little bit of saliva and say, “A little butt- BIT! BIT MA’AM!” Smooth. You can hear the other girls giggle and laugh on the comms.

Bucholz smiles back at you. “Do not worry, Sergeant! I will do my best to keep you safe!”

You smile a little. Not even the chilly winds can keep you down now. However, one thing is still keeping you on your toes. Your hawk ears aren’t detecting anything, and that’s probably because you’re so high up that they simply can’t reach. All the Neuroi on the ground however, they’re going to see you for miles. Not comforting at all.

Suddenly, a red beam of light crosses your vision. Another one passes in between the formation. Neuroi lasers. They don’t travel instantly but they’re still pretty quick. Black puffs of smoke start bursting around however, and you can hear the whizzing of shrapnel near your ear.

“Roy AA!” yells Major Stewart. “Evasive action!” The B-24s start climbing upwards, as do you and the rest of the escort fighters.

You suddenly realize now that you don’t have a parachute and you’re 25,000 feet and climbing above sea level. That’s not fun.

[1/2]

>>33803238
YES.

>>33803238
I love this a lot.

>>33803355
[2/2]

Suddenly, you look down to see Lady Liberty. A laser has blown right through the cockpit, and it is now listing downwards to the left. Flames burst from the hole and from the waist.

“Shit!” yells Rachel. “It’s the Lady Liberty! She’s got a fire!”

It starts rolling downward as it starts disintegrating into a mess of burning metal and steel, then the fire reaches the payload. The explosion near bursts your eardrums as the plane simply disappears into a burst of smoke and fiery debris, crashing down to Earth.

Mother of mercy. The flak stops.

“That was it?” says Karen. “S-Shouldn’t there be more?”

“It’s predicted concentration. Lots of fire, but periods of pause,” says Major Stewart. “Squadron, this is Witchcraft. We have one Aircraft down. Thunderchild, take lead.” A B-24 pulls out of formation and starts rolling into the head of the formation: Thunderchild.

> Remain quiet
> “Do you think anyone survived that?”
> “I hope that won’t be us.”
> Write in

>>33803380
> Remain quiet
We stoic now.

>>33803380
> Remain quiet

>>33803380
>GET ANGRY
>SEETHE SILENTLY

>>33803408
This please. Rookie needs to have a secret.

>>33803380
> “Do you think anyone survived that?”

>>33803454
Yeah. It's too bad the Neuroi don't have scalps or anything.

>>33803380
>Remain quiet
Is that the first time we've been that close to someone dying?

>>33803380
>Remain quiet
Knew it wouldn't survive after the "this being the 13th [mission]" line

> Remain quiet

You sigh, breathing heavily. Your heart’s racing a bit as you continue to watch the remains of Lady Liberty fall to the ground until they pass beyond the clouds.

“They didn’t have a chance!” says Daisy.

“Well, the Liberator never was known for ruggedness,” says Rachel. “Uh, Carla. Wasn’t the airman who cracked that joke at you during the briefing in that plane?”

“I don’t want to know,” says Carla quickly.

The flak starts up again, filling your vision with red and black. The Bombers start angling left to evade. Another B-24 is hit, the Metal Mist. Flak shreds a hole through the left wing, and even causes a small fire, but it appears relatively fine. Major Stewart says, “Metal Mist, check in, what’s the damage?”

The Metal Mist’s pilot, Captain George B. Meltzer, says, “We got a hole the size of my dick in the left wing but we can hold it.”

“Alright, alright,” says Major Stewart.

The flak stops again.

Major Stewart is quick to capitalize. “Right, descend and rightwards turn.” The Bombers start angling downwards again, descending then yawing right.

Your ears perk up. You look ahead to see a black dot separate into more and more and more. Neuroi. “Neuroi! Straight ahead! Small types!” The Focke-Wulfe 190Ds fly past you, moving to engage.

“Where are they going!?” yells Commander Bucholz.

“They’re leaving the bombers out to dry out here!” says Rachel.

You try to hail their squadron leader. “No response, Commander!” you yell. You look to your right to see another cluster of Neuroi coming at you from above. Oh boy. “More! 3 O’Clock high!”

Bucholz screams, “Engage at will!” She and Daphne ascend upwards to engage, while Rachel, Daisy, Carla, and Karen remain with the bombers.

> Remain with the Bombers
> Move to engage
> Write in

>>33803764
> Move to engage
Stay with our wingmates.

>>33803764
>> Move to engage
We're hardly a wing if we don't fly together, after all.

>>33803764
>> Remain with the Bombers

>>33803764
> Move to engage
Ratatatatata

>>33803764
> Move to engage

>>33803764
>Move to engage
stick with the wing

> Move to engage

You decide to follow Commander Bucholz. The Neuroi screech and click as they begin rushing past you all. Bucholz starts slicing and thrusting her modified Kar 98k at them, slicing and skewering the small types as they come to her. Daphne’s Besa Mk3s fill the sky with tracers, blowing right through small types. You pursue the stragglers as they break off and try for angle right above the formation.

You raise your M2 and blast them from the skies, their carcasses fading into white mist before they can crash into the Liberators.

“More!” yells Rachel. “Six O’Clock low!” Carla and Karen move to intercept the swarm of small types as the B-24 gunners start putting lead everywhere they can.

Commander Bucholz hovers above you and yells, “Sergeant! You get JG 3 on the radio now! And tell them to stick with the bombers!”

You let the M2 hang at your waist as you try to hail JG 3. “JG 3, this is 509th JFW! Come in!” Static. “JG 3, this is 509th, do you read!?”

“Look out!” Bucholz flies in next to you and raises your shield. You didn’t even see that small type coming in to try and ram you, but here it went, slamming against the shield and exploding. She bares her teeth at you, glaring. “Pay more attention, Sergeant!”

> “But you said to hail them!”
> “Yes, ma’am!”
> Write in

>>33804204
> “Yes, ma’am!”

>>33804204
>“Yes, ma’am! Sorry ma'am!”

>>33804280
this

>>33804204
> “Yes, ma’am!”
D'oh, Rookie.

File: heavy-breathing.gif (3.59 MB, 375x346)

3.59 MB GIF

>>33804204
>> “Yes, ma’am!”

There's no time for excuses here. Get the guys over here pronto!

>>33804204
>“Yes, ma’am! Sorry ma'am!”

>>33804204
> “But you said to hail them!”

>>33804204
I'll second this
>>33804280

Bucholz gets grumpy in combat, huh?

> “Yes, ma’am!”

You nod violently. “Yes, ma’am! Sorry, ma’am!”

You and Commander Bucholz resume formation with Daphne as you fly over the bomber formation. A small-types are slipping past your vigil considering it’s just you seven versus approximately several dozen. Another Liberator, “Special Delivery,” gets ripped in half at the waist by a small-type. Another one as well, “My Girl”, gets set aflame and burns as it hurtles to the ground. No chutes from either, just debris.

“We’re getting shredded out here!” yells Captain Malone from the Duchess.

“We’re doing our best!” you yell over the radio. You blast another small-type before it hits on the Thunderchild.

Finally though, the small-types let up and fly away, retreating. JG 3 flies past, in the opposite direction.

“They’re gone!” yells Rachel. “How far are we from the target?”

Major Stewart says, “Navigator, position?”

“We’re approaching the halfway mark, Major.”

You look at the FW-190Ds of JG 3 as they return to base. Idiots. You could have saved those Liberators. Commander Bucholz grits her teeth. “509th, we’re returning to base.”

Rachel says, “With all due respect, ma’am. Can’t we go on a little further? The bombers will get ventilated out here by themselves!”

“We don’t have the range to follow them to their target, Lieutenant, stand down.” Commander Bucholz flies over the formation and begins her return to base.

> “Lieutenant McCawlay is right, we should keep going.”
> “I agree with the Commander, we’ll return to base.”
> Write in

>>33804584
> Reluctantly: “I agree with the Commander, we’ll return to base.”
We're not happy with it, but orders are orders.

>>33804584
Can't we hop in one of these planes to cool our jets for a while?

>>33804584
>“Lieutenant McCawlay is right, we should keep going.”
No man left behind.

>>33804584
>“Lieutenant McCawlay is right, we should keep going.”
Just a little bit further.

>>33804584
> "I agree with the Commander, we'll returen to base."
Stick to what we were told to do.

>>33804584
>> “I agree with the Commander, we’ll return to base.”

Even if we follow them, i doubt we will be combat effective

> “I agree with the Commander, we’ll return to base.”

You say, “I… I agree with the Commander. We should go back.”

Rachel grumbles. “Of course you’d agree with her.”

“Lieutenant, stand down. Now follow me back to base.” The rest of the wing forms up behind her, then starts on its run back to Gallia.

You look back to see the flak fields start up again. A B-24 Liberator bursts into flames as shrapnel hits the fuselage, then it begins breaking up and apart as it falls to the ground. You grit your teeth and look forward again. Hopefully Major Stewart and Captain Malone make it back.

…

…

The Airbase is relatively empty as the B-24s are still out on mission. The air crews mess around, playing baseball in the fields or just lounging around until the bombers come back. You all land your Strikers down and dismount. You shake a bit, sighing heavily as you see Commander Bucholz strip off her armor then her heavy coat for the altitude, she starts having a bit of trouble however with her belt. Rachel and Daisy immediately start kicking back in the field, relaxing. Daphne, Carla, Karen, and Vera sit down, looking up at the skies hopeful that all the Bombers return.

> Help Commander Bucholz strip
> Relax with Rachel and Daisy
> Sit with Daphne, Carla, Karen, and Vera
> Write in

>>33804999
>> Help Commander Bucholz strip
Why do you even ask?

>>33804999
> Help Commander Bucholz strip

>>33804999
> Sit with Daphne, Carla, Karen, and Vera

>>33804999
>Sit with Daphne, Carla, Karen, and Vera
I feel bad about that now.

>>33804999
> Sit with Daphne, Carla, Karen, and Vera

>>33804999
> Sit with Daphne, Carla, Karen, and Vera

> Sit with Daphne, Carla, Karen, and Vera

You sit down next to Daphne as they all sit around. Carla says, “I must hand it to those airmen, they have nerves of steel to fly up there with just .50 Caliber machine guns to face against Neuroi. We didn’t even the large-type that was supposed to appear, wonder how they’ll fare.”

Karen frowns, placing her hands together. “They will make it, right?”

Daphne says, “I hope so.” She pops a bit of bread into her mouth. She offers some to you, which you take eagerly. That’ll be your lunch for today. “Poor darlings, I can’t imagine what they’re going through now.”

Carla says, “I’ve flown with Sparviero flights in the past. We’ve had to deal with situations just like at Ploiesti. It’s a tough job, bombing. Everyone and their mothers will be out to get you.”

“At least we’re not bombing schools or hospitals,” you say. “These attacks surely have to relieve pressure from the Resistance. Right?” You hope you’re right. The others don’t seen confident in that.

…

“I hope Captain Malone makes it back,” says Daphne. “He told me his little girl turned three this week.”

> “You shouldn’t put your hopes up.”
> “He will.”
> Help Commander Bucholz strip
> Relax with Rachel and Daisy
> Write in

>>33805293
> “He will.”
> Help Commander Bucholz strip

>>33805293
>> “He will.”
>> Help Commander Bucholz strip

>>33805293
>Help Commander Bucholz strip
Try not to cry.

>>33805293
>Help Commander Bucholz strip
We must practice garment removal, as we have never done this before

> “He will.”
> Help Commander Bucholz strip

You pat Daphne on the shoulder, smiling. “He will, I’m sure of it.” Daphne nods, continuing to watch the skies with anticipation. You stand up and walk over to Commander Bucholz. She’s still having trouble getting all her armor off. “Can I help you, Commander?”

Commander Bucholz looks at you, surprised, then sighs. “Yeah, help me with this, please.” You gently place your hands on Commander Bucholz’s hips as she begins undoing her chestpiece. You blush a bit even though Commander Bucholz seems fine with it. “Listen, Sergeant. I apologize for yelling at you earlier up there. Things got tense.”

“No, no,” you say quickly. “It’s fine. Really. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I just-“ Commander Bucholz pauses. “You know, I…” She shakes her head. “Nevermind.”

You tilt your head. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” she says quickly. She pulls her helmet off, dust and grime covering her face where the helmet did not cover. “But listen, Sergeant. I’m glad you’re okay for now.” You smile at that. “And I know you were reluctant to leave the bombers. I’m glad you followed my orders.”

You look over at Rachel and Daisy. They look away from you, huffing and puffing.

Then you feel something on your head.

… Commander Bucholz is patting your head. Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy. “I like you, Sergeant. Don’t take it lightly, alright?”

> “YES.”
> Nod
> Write in

>>33805563
> "YES."
> Lean in to the headpats
Rookie is taking it the completely wrong way probably but who cares!

>>33805563
>Nod
Can't talk, too much happy.

>>33805563
>> Nod

Don't say anything and blush furiously

>>33805563
>>33805563
> Nod

Words no work...

>>33805563
>Nod

We should talk to Rachel and Daisy at some point, I don't want them too pissed off at us.

>>33805563
>> “YES.” and wet self with happiness

>>33805709
You can't please everyone, and I kind of like the sorta animosity between those three. And I need more reasons for them to give Rookie a blanket party for the lewd story.

Fuck you German

>>33805563
>Nod
>Try not to squee
>Squee internally

>>33805767
Actually, we should be aiming for a harem end, so that fans of all the characters can be happy. You don't want to tear this quest apart too early, German!

>>33805805
>Harem end
>When we clearly want Bucholz to sweep us off of our plane-feet-things

Shut yo mouf

>>33805805
Powers a best

> Nod

You nod slowly, slowly leaning into the pat blissfully. She’s patting your head. She’s petting you! Oh if you had your familiar ears you’d let her scratch them! Oh, if things turn out to be like you hope, maybe you’ll “accidentally” get on her bad side and she’ll have to spank you to punish you! Yes, yes, yes!

Sadly, Commander Bucholz stops petting you, then places her hands on her hips. “You have potential, Sergeant. Do not waste it.”

You nod violently. “Of course, ma’am! Of course!”

“Hey!” Daphne stands up, pointing in the air. You look to see the bomber squadron, coming back. “It’s the Bombers!” Everyone stands up and starts running down the line as aircrew and enlisted men start gathering around to watch them land. You all crowd around on the grass, watching as the first planes touch down.

“Witchcraft”, Major Stewart’s plane, lands without too much trouble. There’s a worrying hole in the wing, and the #4 engine is smoking, but it appears clear. The next plane lands without trouble as well, as does the next one.

“Looks like they’ll make it,” says Daphne. “I don’t see the Duchess though.”

Commander Bucholz says, “Captain Malone is a good pilot, if a crash landing is necessary, he will do it cleanly.” Daphne and Carla look at her, a bit terrified.

> “He’ll be fine.”
> “She’s got a point.”
> Write in

>>33805891
> “He’ll be fine.”
Malone won't die even if he's killed. He'll just powerslide in and be like "'sup?"

>>33805891
>> “He’ll be fine.”

>>33805891
>> “He’ll be fine.”
I'm sure of it

>>33805891
>> “She’s got a point.”

>>33805891
>“He’ll be fine.”
Stay positive right up until the mook is confirmed dead.

> “He’ll be fine.”

You cross your arms. “He’ll be fine.”

More planes come in. The Lady Liberty is missing of course, being one of the first to be shot down. You bite your lip in anticipation as the 21st plane touches down, with the 22nd and 23rd on the way. The Duchess and the Thunderchild.

“Man,” says one of the enlisted. “It’d be nice if they all make it.”

“Don’t count your stars, something’s bound to go wrong,” says another enlisted airman.

The Duchess comes in, part of the tail section completely missing and the cabin completely exposed to the air. The airmen cheer on the Duchess as it comes to a safe landing. The good boy made it. You look at Daphne, smiling. “See? He made it!”

“Hey, it’s Thunderchild!” You all look to see the Thunderchild, with engines trailing smoke. “Oh shit, it’s only got one wheel down!”

The other wheel is slowly being cranked into place while the first hangs uselessly. The tricycle landing gear of the B-24 is going to be trouble if it tries for a belly landing. Rachel and Daisy lean forward, biting their lips and crossing their fingers. Karen grabs onto Clara. And you can even feel Daphne and Vera hold onto you in anticipation. You’re too wound up to care.

But too late, Thunderchild doesn’t get the wheel down in time. The fuselage sparks and then splits apart in flame as it screams down the runway. You can hear the screams of the crewmen as the front half melts and disintegrates into a twisted heap while the tail rolls around, tossing the tail gunner around inside. Finally, the wreck all comes to a halt as emergency vehicles come to the aid of the burning crewmen.

“See,” says one of the enlisted airmen. “What I tell you?”

You feel a bit sick. Rachel looks at you, “Rookie? Are you okay?”

> Run away
> See if you can do anything to help
> “I’m fine.”
> Write in

>>33806237
>See if you can do anything to help
We don't have orders NOT to.

>>33806237
>See if you can do anything to help
Save crying and throwing up until after the emergency is dealt with.

>>33806237
>> See if you can do anything to help

File: wendy-crying.png (59 KB, 572x369)

59 KB PNG

>>33806237
>> See if you can do anything to help
I have no idea what powers we possess but hopefully its the healing variety.

>>33806237
>See if you can do anything to help

>>33806322
Pretty sure our power is 'get in the way' and 'delay actual rescue workers'.

>>33806322
Just watch, I be we round up with telepathy or spider-sense or some other insanely-cool-but-useless for saving-people power.

>>33806399
What the fuck happened to my hyphens.

>>33806237
> See if you can do anything to help
>IF AND ONLY IF our power is something that could help. Else we'd just get in the way.

Let your hate for the alien scum build, Rookie.

>>33806322

Maybe our shield will work against heat. So we can drag people out.

>>33806419
Something wonderful.

> See if you can do anything to help

You run to the wreck. “Rookie, wait!”

“Sergeant!” yells Commander Bucholz.

You continue running. Those poor men, you have to help them damn it. You nearly trip over yourself as you run up to the ambulances. A medic turns up with an aid kit, and you flag him down. “Hey! How can I help!?”

“Help us pull the nose open!” he yells. You and a few other engineers run over to the nose. The front half is beginning to collapse in on itself, so you all have to work fast. You rub your hands together and grab onto a hole in the nose, then begin pulling. Other engineers grab on with picks and gloved hands as the nose splits apart and opens up. A burst flame shoots out.

“AAHHH! FUCK, FUCK! HELP!” The bombardier crawls out, rolling around on the tarmac as extinguishers start putting his flames. “PUT ME OUT! AAAGHH PUT ME OUT!”

You look inside, the navigator lies in a twisted heap, cooked to a crisp by the flames, still clutching at his burning jacket. You don’t even want to know what the pilots look like.

The medic pulls you back. “Stay back kid, we can handle this,” he says. He waves over more crew as they start tending to the severely burnt bombardier. You simply stand there, blinking a bit.

Commander Bucholz runs up to you, as does Rachel and Daisy. “Sergeant.”

…

“Sergeant?”

> How do you respond?

>>33806533
Grab the commanders jacket and sob, but don't quite cry.

>>33806533
>How do you respond?
Shock and despair, let this be an example of what all aliens would do to our loved ones.

>>33806533
>...

>Hug the Commander

>>33806533
Amble over out of the way and throw up.

>>33806533

>hug the commander
>try not to cry
>cry

But not bawling. Weep

>>33806533
>...
>Hug the Commander

>>33806615
>>33806621
>>33806576
Throw up on the commander.

>>33806660
... I would be okay with this if it was a kind of funny situation. This isn't funny at all.

>>33806660

Pls no.

>>33806533
>Hug commander
>"There has to be something we can do to save more of them!"
>cry a lot

>>33806711
Extreme stress responses wait for no women.

>>33806742

We'll trial bomber launched witches.

>>33806791
Either that or bombers with juice refillers

File: plane surfing.jpg (27 KB, 587x400)

27 KB JPG

>>33806791
... Actually, yeah, why the hell didn't we just hitch a ride on the way there?

>>33806820
Juice like gasoline or juice line orange juice?

>>33806856

Juice box flights.

Tankers of hi energy drinks are the equivalent of mid air refueling for witches.

>>33806846

Probably the potential to lose witches.

>>33806856
>>33806883
No, prune juice, chilled

It it a Warriors drink.

>>33806533
...I WILL KILL THEM ALL...

> How do you respond?

You fall right into the arms of Commander Bucholz. You can’t control yourself anymore. “I-I… Thunderchild.” Tears blurring your vision. Commander Bucholz quickly presses you up against her and hugs you tightly, gently running her hand through your hair. “We could have saved them.”

“Ssshh…” Commander Bucholz holds you as you start sobbing into her chest. No. No. You could have done something. You could have followed them out more, and they wouldn’t have taken that damage. “It’s okay, Sergeant. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” you shriek. “It’s not okay!”

Rachel ruffles your hair a bit. “Cheer up, Rookie, come on. Most of the Squadron made it home.”

“No…” You can’t accept that. You WON’T.

Daisy says, “… is this the first time you’ve seen people get shot down?” You nod a little. “Oh…” she quietly says, “Well. That explains a little bit.”

The Thunderchild continues burning, even after the hoses are brought in to drown the fires.

…

…

You quietly brush your hair in the barracks as the rest of the Wing relaxes. Music plays over the radio, but the signal is a bit scratchy. Daisy angrily hits the radio to try to make it work, while Rachel simply rests in her bed, reading a book. Carla feeds Karen a bit of pasta she made in her spare time, while Vera slumbers and Daphne dresses down for bed.

At the foot of your bed is pasta that Carla made for you, red sauce. You’re not a fan of that for now but you certainly don’t want it going cold.

Rachel looks at you, pulling her book away. “Hey, Rookie. You doing alright?”

> “Ohoho! Of course I’m doing alright!”
> Remain quiet
> “No.”
> Write in

>>33806970
>Remain quiet

>>33806970
No.

Eat the pasta, we can use the energy to kill more Neuroi

>>33806970
> "No."

>>33806970
>Remain quiet
>Consume pasta for energy
>Plot the downfall of the wretched xenos
>Think about the Commander's butt

>>33806970
>Remain quiet

>>33806970
>> “No.”

Try to figure out how to extend witch range to follow the bombers. This is now our quest.

>>33806970
>“No.”
I like >>33807160

>>33807160
this

>>33806970
>> “No.”

>>33807099
Here, I'd like to support
>>33807160

Sounds like something to help annihilate aliens to me.

> “No.”

You shake your head. “No.”

She sighs, standing up and placing her book down. She walks over and sits down on your bed next to you. “Listen. I know what you’re going through. Me and Daisy have been through quite a bit. From the Fuso Sea, Britannia, Pearl, Doolittle, the Flying Tigers… and now this. It’s not like the newsreels. This is war, up close and personal.”

You say, “We could’ve done something, Lieutenant. I feel like-“

“No.” Rachel shakes her head. “I might try to do something in the heat of the moment, but then I’d realize Bucky was right, it was stupid. Rookie, you need to learn that sometimes, even if you look back and think on it…” She gives you the sternest look you have ever seen on her. “You never had a choice. “

…

“Is that why you’re still a Lieutenant?” you ask.

Rachel laughs. “Ha! No! We’re just idiots.” She pats your shoulder. “Don’t think much of it, alright?” She hands you your plate of pasta. “Get some food in you, then get some sleep. Tomorrow we might be right back into it, alright?”

You nod, quickly beginning down the pasta. You feel like trying to figure out how to extend your range, so you can follow the bombers farther into their missions.

> See what Carla and Karen are up to.
> Wake Vera and talk to her
> Help Daphne freshen up for bed
> Relax with Daisy and Rachel
> Go visit Commander Bucholz
> Write in

>>33807255
>Sounds like something to help annihilate aliens to me.
If a job's worth doing it's worth dying for!

>>33807283
>> Write in
Go check out the bombers.

Any plan to extend the range might come from the bombers itself.

Find some crews, ask to see the insides, what they can carry, etc.

>>33807283
>Go visit Commander Bucholz

>>33807283
> See what Carla and Karen are up to.
We never talk to them, let's see what they're about.

>>33807283
>Go visit Commander Bucholz
>>33807316
>and talk about bomber tactics

>>> See what Carla and Karen are up to.

>>33807316
this

>>33807283
>> Go visit Commander Bucholz
>Keep flirting to a minimum (I don't expect it to go away, but we should be somewhat serious)
>Brainstorm
>maybe cuddle

>>33807283
> See what Carla and Karen are up to.

>>33807283
>>33807316

This sounds nice

> Write in

Night has fallen on the base. The bar is filled with airmen drowning their sorrows at the bottom of the bottle, which leaves you a good amount of time to check out the B-24 Liberators, the ones that made it back at least. The Karlslanders work hard in fixing the damage. Some Liberions say that, “them Krauts know our planes better than we do,” and they aren’t wrong. Much of the battle damage has already been fixed, or in the case of Captain Malone’s plane, in the process of being fixed.

And yet, you circle around one of the B-24s, the Witchcraft, Major Stewart’s plane. The .50s were dropped a little while ago to help it home along with other excess weight. The night is chilly, and your legs are actually quite cold in fact.

“Like her?” You turn to see Major Stewart, trenchcoat and everything as he smiles down at you. “The good girl hasn’t failed me yet.”

You clear your throat, attempting to look presentable. “Major. I apologize.” You quickly salute him.

“Oh, don’t- don’t salute me,” he says. “Please.” You drop your salute. “What brings you out here?”

“I wanted to see if I could… try and find some way to extend my range. So that I can follow your bombers farther out towards their targets.” You’re a bit nervous when you say that, but he simply shrugs.

“Well… I ain’t an engineer.” He scratches his chin. “Unless you want to ride on top of it.” You’re about to say- “No, you can’t ride on top of it.”

You sigh. This isn’t getting anywhere.

> “Have I seen you before?”
> “Do you fly many missions, Major?”
> “How do you know Commander Bucholz?”
> Write in

>>33807621
>> Write in
How about from the inside? Launch from the bays?

>>33807621
> “How do you know Commander Bucholz?”
> “Have I seen you before?”
I would say there was a tie, except I get the feeling we'll be going through the bombers, then the witch bombers, and finally the commander.

>>33807621
>“How do you know Commander Bucholz?”

>>33807621
>Write in
If there is a gap then we will fill it!

>>33807621
>“Have I seen you before?”

>>33807621
>> “Have I seen you before?”

>>33807621
>> “Have I seen you before?”
I'm still curious about him

>>33807621
>What about the DOORS that YOU ENTER AND EXIT THROUGH or the DOORS THAT YOU DROP THINGS OUT OF?

All I'm sayin' is, bombers have entrances and exits.

>>33807621
>> “Have I seen you before?”
and>>33807659
>>33807771

>>33807760
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Stewart

>>33807771
Wouldn't that mean being inside the plane instead of outside escorting it?

>>33807760
Someone had already spilled the beans earlier but it's Jimmy Stewart, star of "It's A Wonderful Life" and "Mr. Smith Goes To Washington" and eventual General in the Army Air Reserve.

>>33807771
The side doors are too small for girls wearing strikers to get through. The bomb hatch is a possibility, though I think the huge issue is actually making sure the strikers properly start when they drop out of the plane.

>>33807829

Probably for the front bit.

But that can be reinforced by a second squadron of conventional fighters that can turn back at the usual point. After that, the witches can escort the bombers the rest of the way.

>>33807829
We could go in shifts. Half in, half out.

>>33807829
I get the logic: instead of having planes and witches escort them halfway and hope they make it back you have some witches in a bomber refitted to carry witches, who then come out at the point where the escort breaks off and takes their place. The huge risk with this is the plane they're in getting shot down before they can get out.

>>33807820
>>33807838
At some point we simply must use the phrase "golly gee! a real celebrity right here on base!"

> Write in

“Um… I can launch from the bomb bay? Get my Striker Unit in there and be flying in no time! Plenty of space to pick up speed too.”

Major Stewart nods, admiring of the idea. At least until he says, “Where would you put the bombs?”

…

You say, “Okay… well, maybe I can put the Striker Units on a wing spar or something, you can drop them and-“

“Sergeant.” Major Stewart is quick to point out a hatch on the rear of the B-24. He points to a hatch at the rear of the plane. “You see that hatch?” You nod. “That hatch, is the only entry and exit for the B-24 Liberator.”

“Seriously?” you ask. “How do you bail out when it’s time?”

He chuckles a bit. “Very clumsily.”

You huff a bit. “Well…” You stomp a bit. “Stop poking holes in my ideas!... Sir!”

“Haha!” He places his hands on his hips, giving you a warm grin. “Listen, I know what you’re trying to do. But you should let the braintrusts in Liberion figure this out for themselves. Who knows, they might even give you a new Striker or something.”

You sigh. He does have a point. Speaking of which.

“Um, not to ask out of the blue, but have I seen you before, Major?” He looks at you, confused. “I know you’re Group Operations Officer, but… before I met you.”

Major Stewart shrugs. “Well, I did a few movies before the war. Maybe you seen them?”

“Maybe,” you say. “What’s your name?”

He smiles, offering his hand. “Major James Maitland Stewart, my friends call me Jimmy.”

> “Everyone calls me the Rookie.”
> “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
> Give him your real name
> Write in

>>33807879

The retrofitted bomber could be a higher flying one, less likely to be hit with flak.

Otherwise, several planes could be fitted to carry a single witch.

>>33807916
> “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
> "My name is-" Get interrupted by Carla and Karen

>>33807916
> “Everyone calls me the Rookie.”
>> Give him your real name
inb Schteel censor it again.

>>33807916
>> “Everyone calls me the Rookie.”
>> “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

>>33807916
> “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
> Give him your real name
Or at least try

>>33807916
>“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
>Give him your real naINTERRUPTEDBYLOUDNOISE

>>33807916
I almost want to give him our real name.
But that feels like it would be some sort of marriage proposal at this point, and if it didn't come out then we'd get interrupted.

>>33807916
>> “Everyone calls me the Rookie.”
>> “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
>> Sphagetti your real name

>>33807925
Why wouldn't the other bombers be flying at that height, then? They wouldn't be at the target area yet.

>>33807916
> Give him your real name
This it, our big chance to have SOMEONE who doesn't call us rookie. Don't fuck it up.

>>33807965
"NOT AGAIN!"

>>33807916
>“Everyone calls me the Rookie.”

>>33807916
>> “Everyone calls me the Rookie.”
>> “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

>>33807916
AHEM
>>33807910

Aren't b-24 formation like massive?

Can't one or two planes hold stikers for support?

> “Everyone calls me the Rookie.”
> “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
> Give him your real name

You smile. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.” You shake his hand vigorously. Jimmy Stewart certainly has a firm grip and a very warm and relaxed personality. You just feel incredibly at ease with him. “Everyone calls me the Rookie. But my actual name is Sergeant-“

“Major Stewart!” A Karlslander walks over. Jimmy looks at him, concerned, as do you. “Message from the Colonel. There’s…” He looks down at you, then says to Major Stewart, “There might be a new target come tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Major Stewart crosses his arms, in disbelief. “We just lost a third of the group that went with us today and they want us to go back?”

“It’s out of the Colonel’s paygrade,” says the Karlslander. He nods, then quickly runs off.

Oh man, another mission.

Major Stewart sighs, then looks down at you. “Well, little lady. Looks like you might be my guardian angel again for tomorrow.” He nods to you, then puts on his peaked cap. “Don’t stay up too late, alright?” He gives you a quick salute, then walks out of the hangar.

… damn it, you didn’t even tell him your name. Whatever though. You look at the Witchcraft. There has to be some way.

Just some way.

File: 1406157663008.png (560 KB, 1200x1200)

560 KB PNG

>>33808167
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zdo2uqHVtrw

That's it for tonight. Lafayette Girls Academy Quest should be scheduled for tomorrow if all goes accordingly. The next thread for SWGQ will either be on Wednesday or Thursday, or both even for next week.

Follow at: https://twitter.com/GermanSchteel
Ask me at:
ask.fm/GermanSchteel

See you next time.

>>33808199
Aw, I wanted to talk to Carla and Karen. Oh well, good game.

>>33808199
Thanks for the thread, also on the LGA front.

We only have three days left for conventional conversions. I pulled some research and this is what I found that could be used.

Panzer IV Ausf H: Increased or better armor manufacturing, Side-skirts, A new transmission and radio, better air filters, and anti-magnetic paste,and a duel MG-34 anti-air machine gun, though slight speed decrease.

Strumpanzer IV: Same Chassis as the Panzer IV Ausf H, slightly shorter superstructure for smaller profile, and it comes equipped with with an MG-34 Machine gun on the hull and on top of the tank.

Stug III F/8: Based on the Panzer III Ausf J//L model, Increased rear armor, might have side-skirts for increased protections on the sides.

T-34/57 Model 1943: Adds a three man turret to improve efficiency and better optics

T-34/85 Model 1945: Better electronics for turret, Increased Commander's cupola for view, and smoke dispensers

We can choose any variation of the three but these are the most notable and still maybe have enough money to spare to buy an improved engine or two

Also besides the date/dance I recommend to finish/start on Irish brigade quest and hope to find more loyalty while we're at it. We have a week to finish 5 side-quests let's use the time wisely

>>33808199
Thanks for running, was great.

>>33808199
Schteel please, she can't remain nameless forever.

>>33808199
Thanks for running!

>>33808199
Great thread Schteel, see you tomorrow

>>33808199

Thanks for running Schteel

>>33808253
Sure she can.

>>33808359
I'd rather she didn't.

>>33808231
>We only have three days left for conventional conversions.

No, we have more than that. Finals is next week, sat.

>>33808441
FInals will most likely be spent on eliting tanks due to BFP's super teaching perk on monday.

Which gives us, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, for conventional conversion since as of right now we don't have any crew to elite.

Rather, I hope to spend the rest of next week to elite all of our crew by helping Mr.Miksha if we can by taking time off from school

>>33808494

Super eliting is only for a single crew.

And just a session being x2 normal ace progression is not enough to bring more than a crew or two to elite.

>>33808552
I thought it was applied to any crew if we dump in 40 CP and 20% morale on that crew as well?

>>33808576

> DOES THAT SOUND FAIR?

> Black Forest Peak’s joint training session in confer double the usual progression offered by the Aces, along with allowing you to pick a crew for INSTANT ELITING at the cost of 40 CP.

>Pick a crew

http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/33652100/#33658788

Even if we could do more than one, I would not recommend it.

Against Miho, we need our CP and abilities.

>>33808387
I hope she does.

File: Witch Carrier.jpg (177 KB, 800x565)

177 KB JPG

Why no witch carrier.

>>33808625
Because there aren't any C-5s in 1943, genius.

>>33808611

but at the cost of 40 cp for each crew.

That means we can.

Also Ace's teaching lesson is worth 3 whole teaching lessons as well as cp so we have some cp to burn anyway

>>33808646
What about using Superfortess?

>>33808666
Those haven't been made yet either, Satan.

And we wouldn't have access to them if they had been. We have the Liberator, nothing else.

>>33808664

The super eliting is still singular. We can still only choose one, in any case.

>>33808714
Let's clarify it with German then, I already sent him the question since he confirmed we'll get three lessons worth of CP from Ace, it will be strange if we can't elite more

>>33808774

If you're that anon on his ask.fm constantly asking about economy stuff, don't spam him with so many questions.

>>33808822
I only asked about the our last match with the Germans and about how did the bergepanzer thing was even legal.

But some of his answers regarding the economics were confusing as hell

>>33808822
its not spam if their legitimate questions

>>33808936
>But some of his answers regarding the economics were confusing as hell
Well it's not like the questions were the most coherent things ever, which probably didn't help.

>>33809020

Schteel is quite stressed by them so ease off the throttle.

>>33809020
>legitimate questions
That itself is really questionable though.

>>33809026
Because the answers weren't coherent either. It went from one thing to another and it got really troublesome trying to figure out how the shop works

>>33809042
I noticed, and laid off on it even apologized.

>>33809112
>figure out how the shop works
Tanks cost dosh, upgrades cost dosh, intermediate upgrades make subsequent upgrades cost less. What more do you need?