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 Submersible Witches - Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Drying Pan 
  	Around you, the crew of the destroyer Yukikaze are scrambling to their stations. The morning light reveals similar-looking dots doing the same on the other ships of the flotilla, drawn in close for the planned docking in the port. They would have pulled in to Jayapura, ready to take on new supplies and offload their wounded...and your group. Would have, if it weren't for the Martian aircraft swarming the skies or the landing craft that now crowd the shores and docks. 
 	"This is no skirmish," comments Rae. You nod in agreement. The Martians are here in force. Any plans Isaki, MacArthur, or yourselves had for stopping will have to wait.
 	"We need to get to the bridge and find out what's going on," you suggest. Darting forward, you dodge a few late members of the crew rushing to their stations. As your group reaches the busy bridge, you can hear the alien aircraft pass overhead, dropping ever-effective explosives on Human positions. Knowing the importance of letting those in charge do their job, you try to scrunch up against a bulkhead and let the bridge crew work for a few minutes, getting up to speed. Eventually, Lt. Cmdr. Ito, acting captain of the Yukikaze, nods to one of the bridge bunnies and confronts your group.
 	"Change of plans. We're to double back immediately. You need to rendezvous with MacArthur in Brisbane, a more secure location," she says. "What you have is too important to let us stick around here."
 	"You mean we're going to run away?" asks Rae, stunned. 
 	Ito grits her teeth. "Yes. We are running away. Lose the battle, win the war." The way she forces out those words tells you how much she wants to stay and fight. You steal a look out a window and see smoke coming from the small city. You're glad you're not a ground-pounder, but sometimes you wish you could let your foes know more personally of your war efforts...
 	But while you're capable of some restraint, Rae is chomping at the bit. She turns to you. "You're not seriously going to just sit here and do nothing, are you? There are people out there!" Miranda stares at the floor, a steadying hand on Yetta's shoulder. Socks looks (feels, you correct yourself; you don't know enough to interpret Martian facial expressions and body language) somber, almost guilty for the mayhem his kind is causing. No one says a word.
 [ ] - Take Rae's side; you can't just stand by and let this happen!
[x] - Don't be stupid. Your group and your items are far more important than a border town in the Pacific.
[ ] - Other
 	"I'm sorry, Rae. I don't like abandoning a battle when it's shoved so forcefully in front of our faces, but try to think rationally. What the hell would charging into battle serve? Are you a Strike Witch? Are you a Tank Witch? Do you know how to fight like our infantrymen? Got a tank in your back pocket?" You're being harsh, but you can't give her a chance to run off on her own. You've already nearly lost her once. "Rae, what we have could win the war.  You've got to understand that. Those men on the island aren't fighting just to kill some aliens. They're fighting for an end to this war, one we can live with. Are you really willing to risk that victory just to give some immediate relief and satisfaction?"
 	"I," she starts, but the rest of her words die in her throat. There's too much logic behind yours. None of you are trained for ground combat. Sure, magic could make up for a lot of that, maybe all of it, but you all have your place. Rae turns to face the coast, fast disappearing from your field of view as the flotilla turns back around, towards the Solomons and eventually Australia. She salutes. "Fight hard, you poor bastards..." she mutters quietly. 
 	Your business finished, your group returns to the bunks. The night watch won't be needing them now, not with the whole boat on alert. You hear a few Martian aircraft come close to the flotilla, but the majority focus on Jayapura. As you gaze at your comrades, you try not to think of the men and women dying back there. The mood is gloomy, and two of your number seem particularly down.
 [x] - Talk with one of your two gloomy fellows
- Rae Caulders
>- Henrieta Falkowska
[ ] - Examine your spoils with Socks' help
[ ] - Do nothing but wait
[ ] - Other
 	In the bunk across from you, Yetta has her face in what passes for a pillow. She's been looking pretty bad since the escape. She's been through a lot recently, and she's several years younger than you, less experienced. Back in those days, you were often lost and unsure of yourself. Quiet moments to think only made it worse; you can only imagine what it must be like after facing certain death and captivity. You lean across the narrow aisle, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
 	"You OK?" you ask softly. Yetta just grunts, not even lifting her face from the pillow. "Is that grunt yes? Or grunt no?"
 	"Yes, I'm fine," she answers in a very unconvincing tone.
 	"You sure? You've been through a lot recently. We all have, though some more than others."
 	Yetta turns her head to face you, revealing a weary and frightened face. "...No. I'm not," she says meekly. Strong girl. You wouldn't have been able to admit that when you were her age, as recently as it was. 
 	"What's up?" you ask, testing the waters. 
 	"I..." she says, faltering. Her eyes dart from object to object, as if making sure that the walls aren't-
 	Ah, you think to yourself. Of course. The Tullibee. She got friendly with the crew, none of which (excluding Miranda) is likely coming back, to say nothing of her situation before Miranda chanced upon her. That'd be enough to rattle anyone.
 [ ] - Press her; not talking about it will only make things worse.
[ ] - Let her be; no need to open fresh wounds.
[ ] - Other
 	You're not really good at talking. Turning a wrench, sure, but talking about feelings? Not you. Not wanting to make things worse, but not willing to let things lie, you compromise. You put your arm around Yetta's prone figure, putting a firm grip on the opposite shoulder with your hands, and pull her towards you in a hug. "It's alright. Stuff happens. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She doesn't move. "But if you think it'd help, I'm here for you. We all are." She moves a little bit, pressing a little more into you. You hear her cry softly. "If you don't, don't worry. It'll fade with time. Do what you need to. Get some sleep."
 	It may be morning, but everyone's exhausted and Yetta's no exception. You keep your arm around her as she cries. After some time, her sobs stop. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her back tells you she's fallen asleep. Carefully, you get back up and lie down on your bunk. The sounds of the battle have long since disappeared, the flotilla well on its way to the South-East to get around the obstacle of New Guinea.
 	"I didn't know you were the sensitive type," says Miranda from the top bunk. "She'd been clinging to me since I found her, but I never could figure out how to help."
 >Response/Action?
 	"I'm not really a sensitive type, Miranda. I just know a lot of us need a good hug and cry now and then. Some of us," you say, looking back at Yetta's now-sleeping figure, "more than others. It's good to see she's getting some sleep. I can't begin to imagine what it was like for her." You pause. "You said she was in the launch tube, right? Stuck?" As Miranda nods, you feel a shiver go down your spine. "That's..." That's horrible. Being trapped in a doomed submarine is bad enough, but... Your opinion of Yetta has gone up a bit. 
 	"I wasn't in a tube, but being stuck on the Tullibee, knowing it was going down..." Miranda looks away. With a nervous chuckle, she continues. "Is your offer open to me, too?"
 	"Of course," you answer, startled. "We've been through a lot. It's the least I could do."
 	Miranda gives a weak smile. "Thanks." She lays down in her bunk, probably to get more sleep. You should do the same, but again you feel wide awake. You reach into the bag you've been lugging around for the past few days, pulling out the Martian Striker. Lazily, you turn it over in your hands for some time, examining the workmanship. You're not a Strike Witch, but the Substriker's new leg units share the basic principles. The smooth surface gives it an overtly-alien feel. You gaze in wonder at the fully-functional device. Sure, it's a replica, but the fact that they could so easily produce a working device whose inner-workings are unknown and untestable to them is a frightening reminder of their technological superiority. 
 	[Socks,] you begin. He perks up mentally. [Wha-]
 	BOOM.
 	Something bangs against the destroyer, startling you. You look around the room, but only you and Socks react. Your head begins to ache...
 [x] Get topside. 
[ ] Hunker down.
[x] Other. - Cautiously
 	[Socks, what was that?] 
 	[I don't know.]
 	You approach the door, slowly opening it. You step outside, Martian Strikers in hand. Coming out onto the deck, you're briefly blinded by the Sun, by now having reach its zenith and recently begun its journey back below the horizon. A few sailors are about, doing their jobs on the small boat. At the edge of your vision, you can see the coast of New Guinea. 
 	[Everything seems fine...]
 	[Indeed.]
 	[Maybe it was just one of the crew dropp-]
 	To your right, a tentacle emerges from beyond the ship's side. A second later, a Martian commando follows, staring at you. An awkward moment passes.
 [x] Sock him
[x] Alert the crew
[x] Check if the sub is still there
[ ] Other
 	You break the silence first. With a fierce punch, you sock the commando in the face, hearing both Martian and machine crunch under the shield you generated in front of your fist. His grip sufficiently loosened, he tumbles like a sack of potatoes...onto a Martian hovercraft now embedded partially in the Yukikaze's hull. 
 	[Socks! Get to the bunks and hide!] you say quickly. [You're liable to get shot here in a few seconds.]
 	[Right away!] he answers, bolting. Once he's out of sight (and probably back in the room), you yell. 
 	"MARTIAN ATTACK, MARTIAN ATTACK!" The deck crew look at you oddly. "YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE!?" At that, they bolt to their stations, one of them heading up to the bridge. You check your pocket for your M1911, glad to find it still there. If the Martians are boarding, they're boarding for only three reasons: Sub, Socks, and Strikers. Adrenaline pumping you start to put on the unfamiliar Striker-
 	POP POP POP! A gun blindfires from below the ship's railing, striking metal and ricocheting dangerously. With cool and familiar motion, you bring your sidearm up, take aim, and squeeze the trigger. BANG! The Martian gun drops to the deck, part of a tentacle still gripping it. Only part; you didn't qualify for Marksman for nothing. 
 	You dash down the length of the ship as best you can on one leg, hiding behind some convenient cover (ships are just full of seemingly-random parts and machinery, it seems). Slipping on the remaining Striker, you're not quite sure what to do. 
  	How do these things work, again? You wonder to yourself. Screw it. Lifting yourself up with your arms, you stumble over to the railing and fling yourself over. Work work work work work! You chant, pushing magic through the engines. The ocean draws closer... With a kick, they start up and you find yourself airborne, just a foot above the waves. You sail upwards, climbing away from the surface. 
 	<Cleo! Where are you? What's going on?> Miranda's voice fills your head.
 	<Flying, Martians attacking, keep Socks and everyone saAAAFE!> You accidentally plunge back down towards the deep blue, dodging Martian gunfire. <Don't let the crew shoot Socks!>
 	<Flying!? Wha- Did you take one of the Strikers!? Cleo, do you even know how to use those?>
 	<NOPE! LEARNING REAL FAST THOUGH,> you reply as you skate the surface yet again. <BUSY BYE!>
 	You turn your head to look at the Yukikaze. At least three craft are stuck in its hull, a squad of what looks like four Martians on each. Behind the Yukikaze, you can see that the submarine has been cut free and is now being slowly piloted away from the flotilla...
 [x] Get the sub; the crew can handle the boarding action.
[ ] Strafe the commandos as best you can with your M1911. It's not like you'll damage the ship anyhow.
[ ] Other.
 	You change your course, heading for the minisub. It's slowboating on the surface, as if unsure of its capabilities...or afraid of the water it's traveling on. Perfect. Before swooping in, you radio to Miranda. <I saw at least 12 commandos boarding the ship. I knocked one pretty hard and ruined the tentacle of another, but be careful.>
 	<A-alright. What are you doing?>
 	<They're trying to make off with our sub, the damned thieves. I'm getting it back.>
 	You skim the surface, carefully slowing your speed without losing too much of your little altitude. With a clang, you impact the top of the submarine. Raising your fist back, you strike a mighty blow against the locked hatch, denting it. Oh well, now it's a mostly-intact Martian sub. Again raising your fist, you're interrupted by a popping sound and the hatch opening. The sound of churning water ceases. A runt of a Martian is staring back at you through the hatch. He makes no moves.
 [ ] Hulk mode – Rip him out of the sub
[ ] Shoot him 
[ ] Stare back – You never lose a staring contest
[ ] Other
 	You stare back at him. This Martian is trying to take your sub. This is a sub you got by being captured and tortured. He really thought he could just hop in and ride it back? 
 	Nope.
 	Your fierce glare penetrates him to his core. He knows there is no escape. There is only you and pain in his future. You feel his emotions, his mind slowly grinding to a halt as it focuses on one thought: I have fucked up. With agonizing slowness, you reach inside of the sub, grabbing the Martian by a bundle of tentacles. He doesn't move in response. For a moment, you merely hold him, and a faint wisp of hope enters his head. Maybe you won't hurt him after all! Maybe you'll just pull him out of the sub and let him go. Maybe you'll let go and let him get out himself!
 	Nope.
 	With lightning speed, you pull him out of the sub. With magically-enhanced strength, you toss him like a baseball, watching as he tumbles head-over-tentacles into the water a good 200 meters away. "HOPE YOU CAN SWIM!" you yell as you hop into the sub. You stumble as your Strikers hit the deck. Sitting at the controls, you realize you have a problem.
 	[Socks, how do I drive this thing?]
 	[Socks?]
 [ ] Keep trying.
[ ] Hop out of the now-driverless sub and check the ship.
[x] Other. - Contact Miranda
 	You don't have time for this. <Miranda, is Socks ok?>
 	<Uh, yeah. Mostly. He seems a little out of it, though...>
 	<Out of it?>
 	<Yeah. Nothing serious, just kind of...I dunno. His eyes are closed and he's not responding to me. Well, you know. He's ignoring everyone.>
 	Fine time for him to get all prissy. Well, there's not much to do but try this yourself...if you leave the sub, maybe that runt will come back and try to make off with it again. Maybe a commando will swing by. Miranda's not panicking, so they must be safe for now. That makes the recovery of the sub top priority. Now, that leaves just one question:
 	Which button do you press?
 [x] Big red button.
[ ] Small blue button.
[ ] X-Shaped green button.
[x] Other.
 	The big red button is particularly enticing...and you have no real place to start. These Martian sub controls are almost entirely buttons, it's maddening. Maybe if they had some sort of wheel or lever or rudder control thing or anything sane you could start from there...but nope. Just buttons. Buttons, buttons, buttons.
 	And it's time to press one. With a dramatic flourish, you raise your hand over the button. You clench your fist and bring it down with the might of a Chief Petty Officer. The panel gives a little from the impact, startling you, but it pops right back. You sit and wait, trying to figure out what the button did. After a moment, you hear water begin to churn behind you. 
 	"YES!" you exclaim. That was luc-
 	Water sloshes in from the broken hatch, waves beginning to reach the top of the sub. Looking out the window, you see how: the sub is diving.
 NEXT TIME ON SUB WITCHES: THE WIZARDS OF OZ
 MONDAY, 9 PM EST 8 PM CST
 ALSO, RUMOR HAS IT THAT PLANEFAG RETURNS WEDNESDAY. SACRIFICE YOUR GOATS, IT'S GONNA GET REAL.