Oh. My. God.

I thought Lucky was OFF the station.

Shhh its alright Buggy. The bad thing is gone. We'll chase him off station... somehow.

Who would have thought that a Chrysalid would go sweet on something. Though with their mating habits thats not exactly reassuring.

Our inner commander heard the plight of our little bug man. We must return back to the base.

Okay, we definitely heard that. Send our party-team back to base.

SCOM 2012/10/29(Mon)20:46 No. 467259 ID: 5d98c3
File 135156880694.png - (29.19KB , 752x586 , I feel a disturbance.png )

SCOM 2012/10/29(Mon)20:43 No. 467258 ID: 5d98c3

>>467181
Man?
>>467182
MEANWHILE, HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY FROM 'THE LOVESHACK',

This party is KICKIN'. You're so glad you went here instead of to that stupid Council meeting. Everything is going great, until you feel what can only be described as a tremor of shock and horror. You have: No Weapons, No Armor, A Gasmask, an MBT (Outdated, sans ammo), and several dozen expendable personnel. And a space shuttle.

Orders?

Welp. If you guys didn't bring weapons or ammunition back to the base with you.

What sheer incompetence.

>>467261
How did you expect them to fit weapons and ammo into a transport with sixty eight guys and an MBT crammed into it?

>>467264
You put the weapons in their hands. Or strap them to their backs, or sides. Or somewhere more intimate, if nessary. As a last resort for space conservation, swallow the weapons. Or if you need something more permanent, go for bionic weapon implants.

Or subject yourself to such horrible trauma that reality itself shatters around you and grants you the ability to pull big fucking guns out of thin air so long as you're carrying a bullet.

You know, whatever. Just find a way to remain armed.

>>467264
They could carry them. Or put it all inside the MBT. Or you know have a few people stay behind and make room for the weapons.

Back to the station with them.

>>467270
It was a PARTY. You didn't say CARPET BOMB the party. You said CRASH the party. And it was standing room only on the ship. Do you really want a crowd of ROOKIES with ASSAULT RIFLES standing in close proximity to you?

Orders?

Gather the tank and the remaining non-drunk rookies (making a mental note to pick up the rest later), then fly back to base in the shuttle.

Now your just being silly. You don't send a tank to a party when you don't expect to use it to kill and maim. And if your bringing a tank your also going to bring weapons for the infantry support.


Oh. I know whats going on... your a council member aren't you? Part of the ongoing sabotage of this effort. I think we need to fire him first.

In fact lets use SCOM as ammunition for the tank.

>>467280
Behind you, you'll find a box, you impudent whelp. Please waste all your TUs opening it before the SCOM PSI Commandos arrive. Good night, sir!

>>467286
I quit ages ago. The instant I learned the Council was deliberately sabotaging the SCOM project I left that cubicle. Removed all the implants and tracking chips and stole everything that wasn't nailed down.


... I'm surprised you haven't gotten my resignation letter yet. Must be in the mail.

Kilometers away deep underground
Tick-tock tick tock tick tock

Oh thanks by the way for that explosive you planted under the Advisory building. It was handy.

I'm the one running this adventure, My little friend. I'd appreciate it if you let me do so.

I'm the one running this adventure, My little friend. I'd appreciate it if you let me do so.

I'd like to point out its you who made me into a character here. But I'll stop heh.

>>467436
Right. Now that that's over with, are you going to make an order or not?

>>467259
Just for the record next time; officers always carry a handgun.(I think we only have the one, but still)

>>467455
I say we leave the tank here with 10 people (8 drunk ones and 2 sober if we can) and have the rest look for stuff to use as weapons from the party.(like a boombox or part of a chair) We then get in the ship and go back.

>>467455
I already suggested to leave. No point in staying sans weapons.

Go buy baseball bats at whatever the equivalent to Walmart here for the rookies and go back to the station. We will send the rookies towards the Hugh Mann to distract it(goodbye rookies) and everyone else will go to the armory to get weapons. Keep one or two rookies as human shields with you.

>>467464
bump that up to 3 to 4 human shields. We are gonna need it with our luck.

SCOM 2012/10/30(Tue)12:08 No. 467488 ID: 5d98c3
File 135162409951.png - (21.58KB , 752x586 , Traditional Toad Splatting Club.png )

>>467463
>>467464
>>467467
Alright, so, feeling a sense of horror from your space base, you decide to leave a few of your drunken comrades behind at the happinest party in town with most of your sober comrades. So you run out to Sol Mart and grab yourselves some weapons, before running back to the ship and blasting off for space. At this point, the fumes of alcohol are so intense the sober pilot is drunk and the drunken pilot is unconscious.

So after some rather silly stunts, and three TV satellites destroyed, you finally manage to crash land safely back on board.

ORDERS?

Head to the armory, grab weapons. Any zombies you should squash with the tank.

>>467496
Fine but be careful of the dangers because a lot of people got drunk from the alcohol fumes on the ride here. The people who can't walk more than three steps before stumbling/tripping will not get any new weapons and will have to keep the traditional toad splatting clubs.

SCOM 2012/11/02(Fri)07:52 No. 468103 ID: 5d98c3
File 135186796602.png - (61.13KB , 752x586 , Wuh oh.png )

As you arrive on the station, trailing your mob of soccer-hooligan like rookies, you are struck by how eerily silent the place is. The humming of the reactor and quiet whirring of the ventilation systems are the only noises you can hear over the bawdy shouts of your club wielding mob. As you drift toward the hangar door, you hear a soft moan, then a scraping sound from one of the service hatches. Before you can react, a green figure in a SCOM Engineer's uniform claws itself out and lets out a ghastly moan of,"Shurrr, ey pated ma grain!" before unsteadily dragging itself towards you.
Orders?
Sorry for the lack of updates. Calculus is hard.

>>468103
Did he say they painted him green?

Order him to stand up straight and speak clearly when addressing a superior officer.

Restrain him. Strap him to the front of the tank. If he hatches another Hugh Mann. Smash him agianst the closest wall.

SCOM 2012/11/05(Mon)07:55 No. 468810 ID: 5d98c3
File 135213093194.png - (59.53KB , 752x586 , A sad face.png )

>>468106
The bedraggled engineer tries to stand up straight in microgravity and ends up on the ceiling. "Ah Shinists juped meh, shur!" He moans.
>>468116
A) The tank was left on Earth, and B) It's MICROGRAVITY, a tank is hardly going to be effective as anything other than an oversized tennis ball.

I detest Calculus

Uh oh, I think he's already gone. I think we're fucked if we needed that guy because it's time to TERMINATE WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE.

Do we have somewhere to lock the guy? Because he has clearly been slacking off on his job.

Sorry I'm late SCOM 2012/11/13(Tue)10:03 No. 471417 ID: 5d98c3
File 135282983735.png - (80.55KB , 749x535 , You take one vacation and everything goes to hell.png )

Sorry about that. College stuff.
ANYWHO, after being whacked a few times by drunken SCOM troopers, the engineer sobers up enough to begin spouting exposition in between thwackings. Apparently while you were on the way to Earth, Lucky came back in a stolen alien infiltrator ship holding a mysterious purple ball and making up crazy excuses for miserably failing his mission and causing the collapse of Hooper Sherlock's media empire, causing all news services to become far more honest and investigate all claims more heavily.

The scientists (who at this point had discovered the alien Space Cocaine had no physical side effects), directed by Ryan, put their newfound hyperproductivity to use, developing several new technologies through the power of their drug fueled psychosis.

New technologies discovered include MIND PROBE ANALYSIS, BASIC PSIONICS, APPLIED PSIONICS, ADVANCED PSIONICS, OBJECTIVISM, NULL ETHICS I-V, MONOPOLY, NOISE WEAPONS RESERACH, NOISE PISTOLS, NOISE RIFLES, NOISE BLASTERS, and SPACE COCAINE ADDICTION.

At that point Ryan and Laine got into arguments over who was in charge. As the Chief Researcher tragically fell out an airlock, Ryan took control. However, the Engineers, displeased with Ryan's anti-union ways, banded together under Laine in order to protect their rights. The Scientists, a this point higher than any sane human has a right to be, began attempting to artificially grant themselves psionic abilities to crush the more heavily armed Engineers.

Predictably, things went poorly, the scientists wiped out nine-tenths of the engineering staff before going off the deep end and slaughtering each other to the last man, and destroying much of their advanced psi-research. Ryan's status is unknown, and Laine is believed to have fled to the surface during the psi-attacks.

SCOM PERSONNEL LOSS: 897 KIA, 67 WOUNDED, 120 MIA.
CHIEF ENGINEER LAINE: MISSING.
RESEARCH DIRECTOR RYAN: MISSING.
FLIGHT CONTROLLER ADAMS: MISSING.
GUNNERY COMMANDER WILHELM: COMPLETELY FINE.
CHIEF MEDICAL OFFICER MCCOY: WOUNDED.
INTERROGATION OFFICER MANN: UNKNOWN.
CHIEF INFILTRATOR SPACE BUG: UNKNOWN.
TOTAL DAMAGE TO STATION IN MILLIFENIGS: M982,215,235,786,532,124.00


Well. Shit.

Ah well. What were we supposed to do here again?

lol oh god. What a clusterfuck. At this point, hop in a space suit, go to the airlock, and just take shots out into space with your rifle. Hopefully, you'll hit some aliens.

That was quite a bit of devastation. The obvious response is to weaponize this effect by gathering the remaining alien cocaine to craft an ALIEN COCAINE TORPEDO.

Also we should finish searching the station.

SCOM 2012/11/13(Tue)13:27 No. 471430 ID: 5d98c3
File 135284207171.png - (40.72KB , 749x535 , Research II.png )

>>471429
They snorted it all. Every last ounce. Estimates by the surviving medical officer place the body composition of the Scientists at .5% pure Space Cocaine.

>>471425
Unfortunately, the armory appears to have had the doors welded shut. Peeping through the window shows a whole lotta red.

Examining the consoles in research, you find a listing of possible projects. You won't be able to DO anything until you get some non-dead crew, but it's there.

You can search for Ryan, search for survivors, or search for the source of the psychic scream that brought you here. Or do you want to go somewhere else?

Let's search for the source of the psychic scream. It brought us here to begin with so we might as well check it out.

Search the entire godsdamned base. Wanna make sure there are no more surprises waiting for us.

SCOM 2012/11/13(Tue)16:24 No. 471484 ID: 5d98c3
File 135285266340.png - (17.79KB , 749x535 , Rockin.png )

>>471437
After searching through the entire goddamned base, aside from some sweet guns, enormous clumps of bodies, and more aerosolized blood, you don't find anything.

You eventually make your way to the source of the cry. The bed chamber of one Hugh Mann...

Hugh Man must be seducing one of our agents to extract information for the council! We should go in and catch him red handed.

Let's break up this lovefest.

SCOM 2012/11/13(Tue)18:21 No. 471535 ID: 5d98c3
File 135285967061.png - (63.74KB , 749x535 , Revelation.png )

>>471512
>>471484
You're sick and tired of this shit. Your men are dead, the base is in ruins, and you had to leave behind a really great party. Whoever called you up here is gonna get reamed.

You shove open the door, imprecations and accusations on your lips, your men immediately behind you ready to deal a beating. They die there, both your men, and whatever thoughts you had at that point.
...
Mann: ♥
Space Bug: ?!?!?!

...As your troops lapse into babbling insanity behind you, screaming wordlessly for mercy and clawing their eyes from their skulls, you mercifully lose consciousness, tragically not before the image of Hugh and the chief interrogator locked in a concupiscent embrace is burned into your long memory.

THE COMMANDER HAS LOST CONSCIOUSNESS
ROOKIE JENKINS HAS DIED OF A FATAL WOUND
ROOKIE JONES HAS DIED OF A FATAL WOUND
ROOKIE THOMPSON HAS DIED OF A FATAL WOUND
ROOKIE D'SQUARIUS HAS DIED OF A FATAL WOUND
ROOKIE CRIN HAS DIED OF A FATAL WOUND
ROOKIE PAUL HAS DIED OF A FATAL WOUND
ROOKIE EZEKIEL HAS DIED OF A FATAL WOUND
...

>my first thought
We can weaponize this, right? It's proven deadly already, there has to be a way our next R&D team can make a weapon out of it.

SCOM 2012/11/13(Tue)18:39 No. 471542 ID: 5d98c3
File 135286075866.png - (11.63KB , 749x535 , Later___.png )

>>471538
Probably, but all your Scientists are dead, and Hugh Mann has the only video tape. He'll probably lend it to you if you ask.
...
TEN DAYS LATER

SCOM 2012/11/13(Tue)18:39 No. 471543 ID: 5d98c3
File 135286078466.png - (43.37KB , 749x535 , Command Ship Zeta.png )

ON BOARD THE INVADER COMMAND SHIP...

THE HIGH COMMANDER 2012/11/13(Tue)18:46 No. 471547 ID: 5d98c3
File 135286120126.png - (19.65KB , 749x535 , It sucks to be the king.png )

>"-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORED."
Welp. That's four minutes. This job suuuuuuuuuuuuuucks...

Perhaps some SPACE COCAINE could help you pass the time.

THE HIGH COMMANDER 2012/11/13(Tue)20:02 No. 471577 ID: 5d98c3
File 135286577495.png - (26.14KB , 749x535 , Gee, it sure is boring around here.png )

>>471566
You'd love too, but those damn aborigines shot down the combat transport that was carrying most of your stash and political prisoner H-M8675309. Shame too, it was the good shit.

Honestly, ever since you've gotten here, you haven't really gotten to do anything. The Great One has spent several MONTHS practicing his stupid bloody speeches, rambling on about how he is glorious and divine and blahdy blahdy blah. You didn't really mind at first, local television keeping you entertained. Then some jackass revealed on live television that some media magnate enjoyed screwing the local wildlife, and now it's nothing but political analysis and historical dramas.

The Great One jut got off the line with yet another retarded speech about how his magnificence cannot be dampened etcetera. The gist of it was he wants us to go and spend more time fucking around with those 'ZKUM' people. As if we needed to. For the last ten days, your infiltrators (the SURVIVING ones) have reported that essentially 100% of their personnel self-terminated in some insane dominance ritual involving copious amounts of drugs and unstable psionic powers. To top it off, the local governments appear to be insane, ordering suicidal infantry charges against MURDERWALKER class units in the middle of uninhabited strategically worthless forests, the deployment of nuclear weapons in freshwater-supplying regions, and the usage of tank divisions in crowd control and terror suppression exercises. You could hardly do more damage by simply carpet bombing them. It's gotten to the point where local infiltrators are doing everything they can to HELP the local governments out of pity.

Ah well. Might as well actually do some damn work. Let's see...

We could blow up that idiotic starbase of theirs. Seriously, it's right there. How could anyone possibly FAIL to notice it?

We could go snag some local 'research samples' (like more drugs), see if the boys in Xenobiology can find anything cool.

We could send some more infiltrators to go do something cool.

We could just fly down to their capital in a battleship and demand their surrender.

Ooooooor, I could sit here and hope that the Great One rethinks his whole 'Reproduce via Cloning' plan and goes with genetics 'Seriously, give us some damn genitals' plan so I can finally get laid again.

Anything's fine, really.

The star base is clearly ineffectual and might do something amusing so we should leave it for now.

How about having some infiltrators replace some (or all!) of their government leaders? With the way they are acting none of the natives will even notice a difference.

Infiltrate that base yourself, it will probably be a good way to kill time. Maybe you could trick them into getting you some genitalia.

THE HIGH COMMANDER 2012/11/14(Wed)12:51 No. 471708 ID: 5d98c3
File 135292627440.png - (24.81KB , 749x535 , HMMMMMM.png )

>>471702
Infiltration it is! Though we can't infiltrate the so-called council. The last message from the previous agents we sent was nothing but a series of long drawn out screams and fleshy chewing sounds. Let incompetent dogs lie and all that.

>>471578
While that would be fun, we know nothing about that base's defenses. As 95% of our agents perished in the riots, and all of the individuals who had access to any of their weapons systems or schematics, we'd probably need to send a probing attack. In short, like hell are you flying in there blind. Even with your kickass psychic powers, someone might get lucky, and then what would you do?
Anyway, how should we go about infiltrating the base?

>Though we can't infiltrate the so-called council.
But the hardest-to-reach places always contain the best stuff! That base should be a fine target for now though.

Do we have agents there disguised as janitors? I hear that nobody pays attention to those.