Going Feet First Ch. 02

We weren't the first, I may find others here who can help, Galen thought as he looked over the downed plane, then he noticed the man-sized hole in the side behind the cockpit. Maybe not.

Quietly as he could, he moved over to that new entrance and peered inside. First thing he noticed was the general shape of the interior. A few rodents scattered from the heavily rotted pilot's seat, and something was moving in what remained of the radio set, but that was minor. A calendar, hardly faded by time, still hung on the wall above where the radio man sat.

The featured pin-up on it was that of a blonde in a nurse's outfit sitting on a hospital bed. Her uniform was partially unbuttoned and she was leaning back on her arms to part the top to reveal her braless cleavage. Right beneath her on the other page was the month this plane likely went down: May of 1945.

Galen grinned at the provocative image, shaking his head before something on the floor of the craft caught his eye. Lighting his hand up into a dim glow to see, he realized he was leaning over three skeletons, all of them still dressed in tattered flight suits. From their twisted forms it appeared they had been thrown about the cramped space by the crash. Giving a disheartened sigh, he removed his helmet and gave them a moment of silence.

"Did you know them?" a tiny voice whispered, causing him to jump.

He nearly dropped his helmet as he jumped back, holding onto it by the chin strap in his forward hand as he aimed his rifle. When he realized where the voice had come from, he relaxed and expelled a tense breath from his lungs.

Necela, changed into her fairy form but still no bigger than his hand, sat upon a dangling loop of cord hanging from the roof of the cabin.

"No, but I want to show them my respect," he answered, putting on his helmet as he relaxed his grip on his weapon.

Looking to the mess of bones and decayed clothing, the goddess said, "They came here little more than twenty years ago. Never survived their crash in this metal monster, the poor souls."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Galen whispered as he climbed through the hole into the plane. "I'm taking care of those bastards for you, can't you come back after I'm done?"

"Oh, Galen," Necela chided. "You may see me here, but I am actually not here. What you see is a puppet of mine, one of many. With my tasks all across the world, do you think the limitation of only having one physical form would work?"

"Guess not..." he answered, moving to inspect the top turret of the plane.

The emplacement was intact, and the guns seemed operable, but the problem was they weren't in a position that could be turned toward the camp. Cursing, the soldier climbed down from the turret and continued to climb through the plane. Squeezing into the narrow crawl-space over the bomb bay, he looked through a jagged opening that looked to have been made by anti-aircraft fire.

Once again using his hand for light, his heart nearly seized when he saw a duo of two-hundred-fifty pound bombs still locked in their housing. Pausing a few moments to get his heart out of his throat, he took solace in the fact that the two weapons had gone twenty years without blowing up. He hoped that he wouldn't change that by monkeying around the bomber without going near them.

Finally clambering in to the aft of the plane, Galen quickly noticed the lack of bones from the tail and waist gunners. The side door and the parachutes were missing so he hoped that they escaped before getting stuck in this world. Quietly, and without her bodily glow, Necela fluttered in beside him with one hand pressed against the side of his helmet. There were fewer signs of plant life in the rear of the craft, except around the guns in the belly and in the rear.

Still hoping for some luck in this, he reached the tail gunner's position and proceeded to check over the dual .50 caliber machine guns for functionality. A quick inspection showed the ammo to be serviceable save for the first few rounds in the belt, but the weapons themselves were rusted along the bottom and sides. Moss had begun to creep in from the bullet holes in the side of the plane and was clinging to the weapons' top covers.

"Dammit," Galen cursed as he opened them up to find even more grime and corrosion inside on their bolts.

"What are these?" Necela whispered as she fluttered down onto the Browning M2s.

"They're weapons, the kind that make problems like yours violently disappear at the press of a button. But these things have been sittin' too damn long, they won't function."

"Why? Wait, let me," she said as she beamed her eyes at him.

The Private froze as he felt his mind shift around, his thoughts being raided by the goddess as she dug for information about the Browning M2s. When her gaze broke, she waved her hand over the guns and sprinkled silver dust off her wings. Time seemed to turn back for the guns as the moss retreated from their steel bodies. The rust peeled off to reveal pristine, blued steel underneath with even the ammunition magically cleaning up. By the time the transformation was finished, the weapons looked as battle-ready as the day they were mounted on the plane.

"It is done," Necela said before fluttering up to the window and peering down at the raider's camp below. "Now let us make sure they are all present before we begin to dispatch them..."

..............................

Pretayus shifted as a plate of his mithril armor dug into his shoulder under his scarlet, spider-silk robe. Rolling his shoulders to force the metal back into position, he didn't break his eye contact with the men he was doing business with. Again he received a compliment on his attire as the visiting knights shared their admiration for his decorative adornment.

He chose them to brag to them how his robe cost him nearly a hundred gold coins to acquire from a rather esteemed smuggler of very fine tastes. Triple that was what he had to pay to get the armor that lay beneath it. The men awed as he expected them to, and he openly grinned as their attitudes adjusted further to show him greater respect.

For special occasions like tonight, demonstrating his wealth and power was important. Those two things were what brought men allies and respect, and if he wanted to finally solidify his business in the "civilized" world, those were two things he needed from the nobility. Working in shadow and secrecy made him seem more barbaric than he truly was and often scared off all save the most powerful customers.

It was a double-edged blade. His clients were rich and exclusive, but that demanded he only bring them rich and exclusive products. If he threw down some roots, brought his enterprise into a public trade, he could attract more buyers. To do that he would need powerful connections beyond those he already had.

And earning them started with the men before him.

The three knights before him had pre-requested fine specimens for their lord's enjoyment. How one could work up a fetish for a feathered woman was beyond Pretayus' understanding, but the gold was too good to turn down. Besides, a friendship with this lord could be that boost his reputation required for a more public market.

As it turned out, his men enjoyed the little hunt that had gone on with the survivors of their raid to capture the Aviens. Good morale was always important, as was spreading fear to those who found what they had left behind. Perhaps if he mustered the manpower, he could return to Atzla and persuade some of the smaller settlements into paying tribute to him. Something to keep him from simply sweeping in and killing them all and taking whoever was in demand.

That was something to ponder another time. The leader of the visiting knights, having been introduced to the entire band and given a drink to enjoy, motioned to Pretayus that it was time to get down to business.

"So do you have the order ready?"

With a respectful nod, the slaver leader turned to Bjorn beside him, "Bring out the girls."

His chestnut-haired bodyguard bowed his head before giving a sharp whistle. Chains rattled behind him as three Avien and two Human women were lead into the ruins by a Lycan male. Shackles linked their wrists and ankles together and when one of them froze at the sight of the gathered men, the whole line came to a halt.

The leading wolf man turned with a snarl, glaring at the petrified girl and snapping at her with what had to be a terrifying bark. The girl behind her gave her a push, and she stumbled forth to be dragged along toward the waiting knights. Together they shuffled toward their buyers, the chains joining their bracelets together reinforcing the defeat upon their faces with each step they took.

A sly grin managed to sneak up on Pretayus' face as his customers took to inspecting the goods, carefully groping their breasts, eyeing their faces, running hands along their curves. There was a deal of satisfaction to be had when the women did not even look up from the ground. Their eyes remained fixed on their feet, heads leaned forward as if weights were hung off their brows. When addressed, they simply nodded and did as they were told. No objections, no complaints, no hesitation.

Stroking the series of pendants hanging from his neck, Pretayus gave a dark, toothy smile of satisfaction. As he had done with all his captures, he had completely and utterly broke them.

"Are they to your standards?" he asked, his head high and proud.

The commander of his Human customers withdrew his hand from one of the girls' crotch and turned to face him, "Quite impressive how two of the birds are still pure. Our lord said that would earn you a bonus. Thirty gold a head, with an additional thirty for the virgin bonus."

"That sounds like a deal, the girls are yours. And if you come back in say... two moon cycles, I will have another batch of Aviens and maybe even some Nekos for you to look at," he said, not even caring how he drew the eyes of each of his feline troops. He returned to his seat and leaned against the armrest, brushing some of his lengthy black hair out from in front of his face.

"Then we shall return in two full moons," the leader said, stroking the back of his hand down one of the girls' feathered shoulders. "However, there was one more query our master had. Rumor has it the Tree Elves are out and about again. He was curious if you managed to get any in stock."

A large grin drew across the head slaver's face as he shook his head, "The only one I have is my personal toy."

Right on cue, a head-turning creature came waltzing out from the shadows. Long, brown hair descended her bare back. Her nude, olive skin was simply radiant in the firelight as her hips swayed sensually with each step she took toward her master. The aura that once lit up from her body though, it was gone. Just like the life that had once sparkled in her now-cold, black eyes.

"My, my, is that one..."

The Elf blew the knight a kiss as she moved over to her owner and plopped herself down into his lap.

"Yes," Pretayus chirped with a chest full of pride. "You don't want to know what it cost to capture her."

"Is she for sale?"

"Never," the slaver answered in an instant. "Ten years I've had this whore and she still doesn't seem to bore me. Besides, when I did have Tree Elves in stock, their price was a hundred times what any virgin would be."

Slightly disheartened, the knight adjusted his stance, trying to pull his eyes off the Elf that was quite openly spreading her legs for him to see. Clearing his throat and shifting his hips to remove the discomfort of what rose beneath his steel cup, he said, "If you do manage to catch one, our lord said he would be willing to pay a thousand gold for her."

A dark simper drew across Pretayus' lips as his hands cupped undersides his Elf's breasts, squeezing down on her nipples to make her yipe. "Tell him for a hundred gold, she can be his for a day. Assure him that she would be a far greater lay than any Avien."

The commander nodded as he eyed the long-eared girl, smirking at the sultry look that she cast him. "I'll be sure to let him know."

..............................

"Now you see why I hate them so much," Necela whispered in Galen's ear as he white-knuckled the fire controls to the bomber's tail gun. "They trade lives for gold, armor, and weapons. As I see it, shackles are earned, not forced. These women have done nothing to earn this imprisonment."

Rage had put the soldier on the brink of immolation. His murderous gaze could start fires as he aimed his sneer directly at the scarlet-robed slave master. One spark, and he would burn the whole forest down to kill every man in those ruins. The only problem was he couldn't gun them all down with his rifle before they could flee.

But that was what the .50 cals were for. The Private reached down and racked the charging handles on the guns and ensured fresh rounds had gone into the chambers. With the reflex-sight lined up on the man in the red robe, his thumbs started squeezing down on the fire buttons. Ready to unleash a wall of half-inch sized shells to tear him clean in half.

Right before he pushed the button, however, he stopped as an Elf waltzed into camp. The soldier blinked at this naked woman with his scowl easing off and thumbs lifting away from the fire buttons. A curse passed his lips as she had just unwittingly stepping into the line of fire by sitting in that head slaver's lap.

Thinking on the fly, he turned to the fairy floating beside his head and asked, "Necela, can you protect the girls somehow? I don' want 'em gettin' hurt."

"Of course I can. But be wary of their leader, Pretayus, for he has an enchanted amulet that wards against spells in his vicinity. Even against magic of my caliber."

The soldier frowned, "Is that why you asked me to do this?"

The goddess' sighed and hung her head in shame. "Yes. My puppets cannot overpower the amulet long enough for me to cast the spell. It is how the elves failed in their rescue attempts. I would come down myself, in my true form, but I cannot justify to myself leaving me duties on the grand scale to handle a single mortal."

Pursing his lips, the soldier let out his lungs through his nose and nodded. "I understand, Necela. Can't ask a general to run a fire team."

"Exactly, my warrior. Now, let us bring an end to this evil." She clapped her tiny hands together. Every girl in the slaver's camp, including the Elf who had stood up and started toward the lead knight, became wrapped up in a mystical blue glow. The men that tried to handle them found their molesting hands zapped as they had been exploring their bodies.

Swearing then erupted in the camp. Swords and daggers left their sheaths as every man rose from their seats. Trying to prevent any bloodshed between his men and his guests, Pretayus called for them all to calm as he stepped up and tried to take hold of his Elven servant. A sharp "dammit!" escaped him as his hand received an electrical shock.

In a sudden display of anger, he looked up to the moon above and yelled out, "NECELA! YOU WHORE! RELEASE MY PROPERTY!"

Grinning like a mad man, Galen roared in reply, "I'LL RELEASE YA SOMETHIN' YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!! GET SOME!!"

Both thumbs punched down into the red fire buttons on the gun controls to unleash fifty caliber Hell upon the worthless fucks before him. But instead he heard nothing but a single "click."

His heart stopped.

Pretayus, he had heard the soldier and now his men were turning to face the plane.

"Oh FUCK!" Galen swore as he slammed his fists down onto the controls, earning him a tiny slap on the ear before the fairy flew in front of him.

"Watch your mouth in my presence! Now tell me- oh, forget it!" Necela beamed her eyes at him a second time, sucking the information right from his brain.

At first the goddess seemed puzzled with the thoughts of "electricity" and "electronics" swirling around Galen's conscious mind. Technology centuries beyond her world both fascinated and scared her all at once as she witnessed all sorts of devices from train sets to electric chairs. She wanted to push further, find out more about his world, but there was the task at hand.

An unusual extra two seconds were needed for her to fully absorb the new knowledge from her warrior. Then she needed a third to manipulate his mind and bring forth anything else he knew out from his subconscious. When she read through the new information she forced into his thoughts, the goddess began to grumble with a new anger in her tone.

"You could not inform me of this before?!" she snapped, her hands zapping with tiny arcs of lightning. Even with her tiny voice, she gave an unnerving roar as she darted down to the electrical line that fed the turret. Ripping open the protective layers, she slapped both her hands onto the wire that ran to the fire control systems and sent a perfect current through the line with her body as the source.

The lights of the plane suddenly flickered on; the electric motor for the turrets whirring as it came back to life.

"Get them!" Necela ordered as the slavers began moving toward the craft.

All systems green, Galen took hold of the gun controls and mashed his thumbs into the fire buttons.

The peaceful silence of night existed no longer as the half-inch shells exploded from the ends of the M2 Browning machineguns. The big man with the chestnut hair threw his boss aside as the wall of lead came down upon him. For all his thick brawn and armor, nothing could protect him from exploding into red mist and steel shards.

Seeing the whole of the slaver band coming to arms against him, the customers as well, Galen shifted his fire right. Still holding the fire buttons, he slowly pulled the sights across the wave of courageous fighters to rip their bodies in half with the heavy automatic fire.

Desperate for any form of cover, the more cowardly of the slavers dove in behind a stone wall of their building while yelling for the rest to run. With little more than a disappointed "hmph," Galen lined up his sight with the structure's base and fired again. The weather-worn stone exploded from the impacts and in seconds the whole of the wall toppled inward onto the men behind it. They screamed for a moment, before their bodies were splattered over the floor of the ruin.

Whoever had not yet been gunned down now began to scatter. Two men ran off in Petra's direction and the Private managed to cut one of them down before he spotted the Shadow Stalker pounce on the other. Even being partially deafened by the fifty caliber guns, he could still hear that man scream as the assassin ended his life.

A shadow crossing over his gun sights brought the Private's attention upward. Pulling back on the controls to raise the guns, he began to search for the object flying around in the night sky. Just as he caught the sight of a being above, a throwing knife harmlessly bounced off the gun barrels before the Avien flew by overhead.

"Let me see..." Galen muttered.

He tracked the creature and brought it into his sights, watching as it came around for another pass. When that broad silhouette fell into line, he pushed the fire button and cheered as feathers exploded everywhere.

"That's how ya gut, clean, and field dress in ten seconds or less!" he laughed aloud as what was left of the body crashed down into the foliage.

Certain the sky was clear, he brought the guns down and to the left. The last of the slavers tried to run, they tried to hide, but the pair of Ma Deuces by his feet showed no mercy as they simply cut clean through the forest. Limbs were shed, torsos were hollowed out, armor and shields proved little more than false hopes as nothing stopped the soldier's onslaught.

Until a Neko dropped down on top of the turret's canopy, driving a short sword through the Plexiglas.