Pasted

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/19364714
 Submersible Witches: The Voyage Home
 	Admiral Isaki leads you into a room on the Yukikaze, surprisingly ornate for a military ship, that houses a table and several comfortable chairs. Ornate though it may be, you're still on a military ship; the table and chairs take up a majority of the room. As you all take seats, the scent of Japanese cuisine invades your nostrils. The platters on the set table aren't just for show. 
 	"Come, eat up. I'd like to talk with you all before handing you over to MacArthur. There's still much time before we arrive and I'm sure you're famished." Isaki takes his chopsticks and bows his head, uttering something in Japanese before removing the covers to the platters. They're full with various kinds of meticulously-prepared seafood and rice-based dishes, excitedly foreign. To your relief, you find that your group has also been given forks and spoons to eat with. 
 	[Socks, um...] you begin, uncertain how to begin.
 	[Yes, this food will be fine. We have already caught many sea creatures from your large oceans to supplement our normal stocks of food.] The Martian has managed to position himself in the chair given in a manner that seems fairly normal. He twirls a thinner tentacle around a fork and begins to retrieve food for his plate. [These utensils, on the other hand, are not familiar to me.] He plays around with it, trying to get a feel for the fork's prongs and slight curve. 
 	Around you, you notice your fellow escapees have already begun digging in. Rae is attacking the foreign food with gusto. Yetta is curiously poking at it, unsure if the Japanese taste will agree with her. Miranda is conducting herself elegantly, twirling her chopsticks to and fro with natural ease. You all nearly look normal, having been given new clothing, military surplus. The quick rinse the Admiral afforded you all did much, but you'll still be wanting a more thorough clean the next time you get to a proper shower. Across the table, both Admiral Isaki and Lt. Cmdr. Ito are eating quietly, but their eyes keep glancing at you.
 >Begin eating in silence.
->Start a conversation - Provide a conversation topic
 	This silence is awkward. You endured silence for too long in that cell; it's time to socialize. As you add food to your plate, you decide to start with familiar territory. Luckily, Miranda's surprising skill with chopsticks provides a topic.
 	"Miranda," you begin as you add some rice to your bowl, "where did you learn how to do that?" You attempt to mimic her gestures with your hand.
 	"Oh, it's nothing, really. You see, I grew up on the West Coast. While attending an academy, I made friends with a Chinese witch. I often joined her family for dinner and vice versa. They use the same utensils, so I just kind of...picked it up, I guess," she says, laughing quietly as she reminisces. "I wonder if she's doing fine..."
 	Perhaps this wasn't the best way to try and lighten up the atmosphere. As a witch, Miranda's friend has almost certainly joined the fight in one fashion or another. The witch casualties might be impressively low, but that doesn't guarantee that she hasn't been injured in any way. The others don't say a word. Well, if no one else wants to talk aloud, then that's just fine. 
 	[Socks.]
 	[Yes, Kuykendall?] he responds. He seems to have figured out the fork and spoon and is now steadily consuming various seafoods, including...squid?
 	[Um, isn't that...?] you ask, looking at the squid. Socks spends a moment following your eyes before he understands your meaning. 
 	[Yes! It is a 'squid.' I find these creatures to be particularly flavorful, a rare find for us here. It is rather fortuitous being able to eat creatures from your world, let alone enjoy them. I am happy to find it here.] He eats a piece, presumably relishing the taste.
 	[Aren't you a little...disturbed about it? They look a bit...you know.]
 	[Surely you do not have issues consuming sea creatures, Kuykendall? I notice you have yet to really begin.]
 	[N-no, that's not it...]
 	Socks looks at you curiously (something you can only tell because of the mental link). Well, if he has no problems with it... He returns to his meal. The awkward silence continues.
 	"Kuykendall." Admiral Isaki sets his chopsticks aside, having nearly finished his meal.
 	"Y-yes?" you sputter, startled by this sudden break in the silence.
 	"Are you available?"
 >Are you?
-You are
 	You blink. "Why yes, Admiral," you say with a smile. "I'm available for debriefing. Should we step outside? Or perhaps go somewhere more...private?" Surely this must be a moment of insanity; he may not be in your chain of command, but he's still an Admiral. Indeed, your little flirt appears to be going over badly; Admiral Isaki takes a moment to figure out what you mean. When he gets the meaning of your statement, his brow begins to furrow...which is nothing compared to the blatant outrage on Ito's face. Luckily, Isaki seems to have taken your move as a calculated jibe at the unfriendly Lt. Cmdr.; when he notices, his face breaks into a suppressed smirk. Apparently his opinion of the XO matches yours.
 	"Time for that later," he says, chuckling, which only makes Ito's rage even greater. "I wanted to talk about the circumstances of your escape. It's not every day that we retrieve a Martian sub, let alone...a scientist, right?" he asks, nodding towards Socks. Ito's self-restraint is superhuman; she's managed to return her face to something almost blank after realizing what the two of you were doing.
 	"Yes, a researcher of some sort. We haven't had much time to stop and actually talk to one another, but I believe he's some sort of expert in the field of Psionics," you explain. You really don't know much about your turncoat, now that you think about it.
 	"Psionics?" he repeats. "So they really do posses psionic powers? Why, this information alone is valuable enough to...but I digress. Why would a Martian researcher want to defect?"
 	You look towards the ceiling, thinking. "I don't think he wanted to, Admiral. I mean, I don't think he's a human-lover. He and a Martian commander seem to have a bit of...friction. He left as a form of protest; Socks believes leaving people like that commander in charge will lead to the downfall of his people." 
 	Admiral Isaki look at you funny. "Socks?" To your right, Socks looks up at the mention of your name for him. His bandage is still wound around his head; you must have really done a number on him.
 >Socks?
 	You avoid looking at Socks' head, feeling a little bit guilty. Only a little. "Well, I couldn't exactly pronounce his name, and I needed something to call him..."
 	"Yes, but...Socks?"
 	"Well, I...uh...I socked him in the head. Hard."
 	Everyone but yourself and Miranda are taken by surprise.
 	"Whoa whoa whoa. You punched him!?" asks Rae. "Straight to the face? Cleo, I didn't know you had it in you!" You blush slightly.
 	"And he still aided you?" asks the Admiral. "Wait, you spoke with him?"
 	The conversation you wanted finally starts up as you bring everyone up to speed. As you and your group take turns describing your captivity on the Harbinger, Admiral Isaki and Lt. Cmdr. Ito listen intently. Everyone is particularly interested in your ability to link with Socks mentally ("Why can you do that?" wonders Miranda) and the Japanese officers showed some concern at the idea of an unattackable Martian platform from which they could launch attacks ("How big did you say, again?"). Eventually the talk turns from these more serious matters to personal discussion, sharing of experiences and stories with chuckles here and there. Desert is soon served, and by the end everyone is talking happily...besides Lt. Cmdr. Ito. 
 	"Well, I'm glad to see that you made it back safely," begins Admiral Isaki. "We'll be in Jayapura soon, but it's late and I think the least I could do is let you all get a good night's sleep before heading ashore to face MacArthur." Those in your group that know about the man seem to agree. "We've a few bunks set up for just your group tonight, so that even your Martian turncoat can rest relatively easy. These men can show you to them." He gestures to a pair of sailors.
 ->Head to the bunks
>Sleep in the sub
->Other – With Security Detail
 –
 	"Admiral, I appreciate what you've done for us, but don't you think we should have a little more security?" you ask.
 	"Yeah, I mean, we do have a Martian here with us. A big researcher. One we can talk to," Rae points out.
 	"And we have working replica strikers, Martian-built. What we could learn from those could turn the tide of the war, to say nothing of our submarine," adds Miranda. Yetta, finding that the other two already said everything she wanted to add, just nods her head in agreement.
 	"Who knows? They might even send in a specialist squad to kill him before we get him somewhere safe," you say.
 	Admiral Isaki thinks for a moment. "...And some of our more zealous sailors might try to kill him as well...I see your point." He turns to Ito. "Get your most honorable crew members to guard their bunks." He lowers his head, giving her a stern look. "You know just as much as I do how important this is." Ito snaps a salute, giving a crisp response in Japanese. 
 	Minutes later, you find yourself in a familiar-though-different room filled with bunks for sleeping and various little chests for storing items. There are no other sailors and the room has enough bunks for more than twice your number; either they're sleeping in the night-watch's bunks or this ship's crew has taken a disproportionate amount of casualties for its damage. As you all plop on down on the most comfortable of the spartan arrangements (Socks commented on how horribly familiar these arrangements were), you find that you can't sleep. You're exhausted from your entire ordeal and you've yet another tomorrow, but you just can't get to sleep. 
 	Tossing and turning, you decide to stare at the bunk above you, so close you worry that you might bump it during your sleep, if you ever get to it. Laying quietly, you listen to familiar sounds of a Human ship. They comfort you. You also notice that no one else's breathing is slow and calm; it seems you're all having trouble sleeping.
 >Close your eyes
>Have a quick talk with:
-Miranda Kellos
-Rae Caulders
-Henrieta Falkowska
|-Socks
>Other
 	You decide not to disturb the others. You test your link with Socks and just as you suspected, he's still awake. Your discussion with him was interrupted last time and you never really got a chance to get back to it. Until now.
 	[Hey, Socks. You still up?]
 	[Of course,] he answers. [You can sense this, yes?]
 	[...It's just me being polite, Socks. If you don't want to talk, you can just pretend to be asleep.]
 	Silence.
 	[...Socks?]
 	[I am making a joke, Kuykendall. You said if I didn't want to ta-]
 	[I get it.] This Martian is a really odd character. [So Socks, like I was asking before...Why did you guys fly a million miles to start a war? It just doesn't seem like a logical thing to do, especially when you're having as much trouble as you are.]
 	Socks' mind becomes a swirl of a million different thoughts and emotions at this. You wait patiently for him to sort it all out. [It is...complicated. There are many factors that played in to the decision to start war.]
 	This is just what you heard before. Socks is still trying to hide something. [Oh come on, Socks. I get that war is complicated. There's gotta be a few major reasons behind it, though. Talk with me. Is it just those commanders screwing things up? Why come to Earth at all?]
 	[There are many very good reasons for coming to Earth, Kuykendall. I was one of the many desiring to make contact, even travel here. Your world is larger and has a great many things those like myself would love to study. Just your massive collections of water you call "Oceans" are fascinating and could be the subject of centuries of study.]
 	[Don't tell me you went to war to study our fish.]
 	[No, we did not. Or I should say, I hope not. I am a researcher, Kuykendall, not a leader or soldier. We do not know everything. I do not think the same way as our leaders, nor do I know as much as our soldiers.]
 	[So you have no idea why you're at war?]
 	[...That's not what I said.] He pauses, thinking about how to phrase this. [I have heard...rumors. There are a few whispers that might explain much. You are right in saying that we have experienced many difficulties here. We should have defeated your forces swiftly and begun bringing civilian populations to your Earth. Your pseudo-psionics certainly helped slow that effort, but even so, I believe most of my people would have expected a quick and decisive war.]
 	[Why?]
 	[Our technologies are vastly superior, if inadequately used.] You immediately think of those silly Martian walkers they fielded at the start of the war. They were terrifying, but ultimately just large targets. Even you could see that. [Yes, that is an example,] he says, seeing that clear image in your head. [It was originally thought that your moist planet, with its extensive geological and organic features, would require legged vehicles to navigate.]
 	[I guess without anything like it back home, you really had no way to know,] you reply. Socks gives a mental nod. [So did you come to take a green planet for yourselves? Tired of all the red?]
 	[That could certainly have been enough, but our leaders have not given that as a reason. Mars once had vast oceans like that; we have evidence of this, though it was before our time. What little water remained we have stretched to its limits. Our resources are hard to come by and overall we are straining just to survive. They could have made a case that no one would freely relinquish so much of their planet's bounty for an alien society, but they didn't.] Again he pauses. [They didn't,] he repeats, wondering why.
 	[But you said you have an idea?]
 	[...Only whispers. We've long had problems sustaining our society; there have been many attempts to use other resources to make up the difference. Expeditions to our moons and the neighboring asteroids have been made. We achieved significant progress, though what we returned was little more than an expensive curiosity. Given time, we could potentially return ourselves to relative richness.]
 	[And?]
 	[...You will not let this go?] You shake your mental head. [You realize I am little more than a researcher with a head full of fantastic possibilities and that my musings may amount to little more than paranoia over our incompetent leaders? That they could merely be failing to setup a proper propaganda campaign to provide proper justification for a war over resources?] Again, you nod. [Then I will say this: I hear rumors that our military forces here on Earth are but a tiny fraction of our overall might.]
 	You're confused. [Why would they hold back military forces?]
 	[I don't know. Perhaps they're simply incompetent; I could certainly believe that. Perhaps they're hiding something; they've certainly done that as well. Maybe they're spreading rumors about their might; they've done that as well. Maybe others have tired of their incompetence as I have and they must suppress them. It is a most confusing matter.]
 	[So...if you had to say?]
 	[If I had to say, Kuykendall, I would say that rumors are rumors and the war is just our eager leaders stumbling in their incompetence as they play political games, trying to gain control of a rich new planet. If so, it doesn't feel...adequate, but there you are. Civilians aren't told much about the workings of our forces and political systems. If you really wanted to know, you would have to speak to the commander.]
 	You nod, thanking him. [Get a good night's rest, Socks.]
 	[I intend to, Kuykendall. I do not expect to always be treated with such luxury. You are an enemy of my people, but you are also a person with which I can speak. I do not apologize for trying to learn from you; I am naturally curious. I do not apologize for capturing you; I had little to do with it. I do apologize for your mistreatment. There are ways my family conducts its research, and they differ greatly from the commander's. Good night, Kuykendall.]
 	As he bids you goodnight, you realize that he offered much more information than what you initially asked. Either he's gained some respect for you, or he's an incompetent wager of war. Probably both.
 ->Sleep now?
>Try to talk with one more of your now-probably-sleeping group
->Other – Thank Miranda
 –
 	Just one more thing. "Hey, Miranda?" you ask softly. "Are you still up?" You hear a rustle, then a response.
 	"Yeah, just a little. What's up, Cleo?"
 	"I just..." It's a little tough. "I...thanks for helping Yetta. When I couldn't." 
 	Miranda doesn't answer immediately. After a minute, you fear she's fallen asleep and that she didn't even get to hear your thank-you. "No, don't. I didn't do anything, Cleo. If the Martians hadn't boarded, we'd have died anyway." There's another pause. "And if I hadn't been there, they'd have taken her out of there, I'm sure of it. You know how valuable we are."
 	"Still, you gave her hope when I couldn't. Thank you."
 	"...Good night, Cleo."
 	"Good night, Miranda."
 	You're not quite sure how much sleep you got. It couldn't be much; you ended up tossing and turning for what felt like an hour more.  You expected a rough awakening; the military has little time for niceties and these bunks do belong to some sailors somewhere. You just weren't expected to be thrown from your bunk, sirens wailing.
 	"What the hell is going on!?" exclaims Rae, similarly awakened. 
 	"No clue!" you yell. "Let's try to find out!"
 	Your group quickly rushes out onto the deck of the ship, hoping to make your way up to the bridge. As you're not part of the chain of command, you have no station to report to. Once you get top-side, however, your entire group stops.
 	Jayapura is under attack.
  NEXT TIME ON SUBMERSIBLE WITCHES: OUT OF THE FRYING PAN, INTO THE FIRE
 EXPECT MONDAY, 8 CST, 9 EST. THE SEARCH FOR PLANEFAG CONTINUES.