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jeriendhalOkay, the fact that I've used the Rape Trigger warning three times already in this story is mighty sad. :(
Nan left her rain slicker along with Nez’s coat by the wreckage of the flyer, both covering Freya’s body. Though it left them rapidly soaked by the rain, they had both decided independently that trying sneak up on a slaver camp wearing a bright red cloak and a jacket with reflective tape on it was a seriously bad idea.
“This is a bad idea,” Nez said, as they followed after the pair of creo that had killed Freya. It wasn’t that hard. The underbrush got thicker and thicker the further they went from the clearing and the path of trampled tanglefoot grass was very obvious.
“Probably,” Nan agreed.
“Do we have any idea what we’re going to do when we find them?”
Nan shook her head, flicking rainwater off her ears. “Find a way to keep them from leaving until Skyler and the rangers come to rescue us.”
“And we’ll do that how?”
“Well if they got an encampment they have to have someone patrolling the outer perimeter, right? We just sneak up behind them, steal their spoofer cloaks and infiltrate the camp.”
“Brilliant,” Nez said. “And how to we persuade them to hand over their cloaks?”
“I don’t know,” Nan said, as she began to come to the uncomfortable conclusion that they really hadn’t thought this through. “You’re a wazagan, right? You’re a heavy-worlder.”
“Yes. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, you’re big and strong. I mean maybe we can hide behind a tree and you can bung a rock at them.”
Nez stopped. “I could hurt somebody doing that!”
“Well, that was the general idea I thought,” Nan said. “They won’t have any problems hurting us, after all.”
“I can’t do that! I’m a healer! Allah be praised, it’s bad enough I let Skyler go running off with a concussion.” She glanced at her chronometer. “And I’ve missed noonday prayer!” Nez paused and thought that last one over, then shrugged. “I suppose this counts for pretty extraordinary circumstances though.”
“Look, let’s just find the camp first. We can figure out what to do next after that,” Nan said. “Just wait a moment, I’ll climb up and see if I can spot anything.” She dug her claws into the trunk of the nearest tree and started climbing upward. She’d barely made it two meters before the pain shooting from the base of her tail up her spine made her lose her grip, falling away to land in Nez’s outstretched arm.
“Nan, are you all right?” her roommate demanded, setting her down carefully. Nan slumped to the ground, breath hissing through her fangs as she fought the urge to cry out.
“I landed badly on my tail when the flyer exploded,” she said. “It… hurts quite a bit.”
“You should have said something,” Nez chided. “Turn around and let me see.”
Nan turned on her knees, as Nez began to probe the base of her tail with her fingers. She touched one vertebra very gently, but it was enough to make Nan bite down hard on a scream.
“That one?” Nez asked
“Yes,” Nan hissed.
“It’s not broken, but it’s definitely sprained, or it might even have a hairline fracture,” Nez concluded. “I can’t tell anymore without getting it imaged. I thought you were holding your tail awfully still.”
“Can’t be helped right now. How about I just take two analgesics now and I’ll call you in the morning?” Nan joked, standing up again with Nez’s help.
“If we had any analgesics.” Nez turned her head just as Nan’s ears pricked up at the sound of several figures pushing through the tanglefoot grass, at least whom sounded like creo and the other muffled, but high pitched and scared. Nan pointed at the top of the tree and Nez nodded, the wazagan clambering up into the branches while Nan hid behind the tree trunk.
A moment later two male creo came crashing along the path. Between them was a naked ferin doe, her legs kicking the air as they held her up by the elbows, her arms bound behind her, a dirty gag tied in her mouth and a metal and plastic dampening collar locked around her throat and over her spurs.
“A’right, this is far enough,” the first male said. “No one is gonna hear her at this distance.”
“Thought the little shits did whatever you tell ‘em too,” the second one said, trying to keep the struggling doe’s tail spade pinned between his arm and his side.
“That’s only if yer their master. This one a feral, aint’cha sweetie?” The first creo threw the doe down to the ground, grabbing one her ankles. “Help me spread her legs.” He started fumbling one-handed at his belt while the doe moaned under her gag.
Both of the would-be rapists looked up suddenly at the cry of Allahu Akbar! coming from above them, as one hundred kilos of blue skinned, purple haired and righteously indignant wazagan landed on the first creo, tackling him. The other creo let go of the doe, stumbling backward and grabbing for pistol at his belt. Nan leaped out from behind the trunk of the tree and landed on his back, wrapping her arms around his throat and hanging on for dear life.
“Nez! The doe’s collar!” she yelled, grabbing at the second creo’s wrist as he tried to raise his pistol.
Nez reached over and grabbed the top of the doe’s dampening collar, heaving with all of her might. The tough plastic hemming the ferin’s spurs twisted, then cracked and snapped off. Nan let go her opponent and jumped clear just as the doe’s bion blast caught the creo square in the chest. He fell in a heap, curling up into an unconscious ball, muscles twitching spasmodically.
“What about the… the other one one?” Nan panted, rising shakily to her feet. She needn’t have bothered to ask. The first creo lay on the ground, his head twisted at an unnatural angle, his neck having snapped against a protruding root when Nez landed on top of him.
"I think I killed him." Nez leaned down and checked for a pulse. "I definitely killed him."
TBC
Nan left her rain slicker along with Nez’s coat by the wreckage of the flyer, both covering Freya’s body. Though it left them rapidly soaked by the rain, they had both decided independently that trying sneak up on a slaver camp wearing a bright red cloak and a jacket with reflective tape on it was a seriously bad idea.
“This is a bad idea,” Nez said, as they followed after the pair of creo that had killed Freya. It wasn’t that hard. The underbrush got thicker and thicker the further they went from the clearing and the path of trampled tanglefoot grass was very obvious.
“Probably,” Nan agreed.
“Do we have any idea what we’re going to do when we find them?”
Nan shook her head, flicking rainwater off her ears. “Find a way to keep them from leaving until Skyler and the rangers come to rescue us.”
“And we’ll do that how?”
“Well if they got an encampment they have to have someone patrolling the outer perimeter, right? We just sneak up behind them, steal their spoofer cloaks and infiltrate the camp.”
“Brilliant,” Nez said. “And how to we persuade them to hand over their cloaks?”
“I don’t know,” Nan said, as she began to come to the uncomfortable conclusion that they really hadn’t thought this through. “You’re a wazagan, right? You’re a heavy-worlder.”
“Yes. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, you’re big and strong. I mean maybe we can hide behind a tree and you can bung a rock at them.”
Nez stopped. “I could hurt somebody doing that!”
“Well, that was the general idea I thought,” Nan said. “They won’t have any problems hurting us, after all.”
“I can’t do that! I’m a healer! Allah be praised, it’s bad enough I let Skyler go running off with a concussion.” She glanced at her chronometer. “And I’ve missed noonday prayer!” Nez paused and thought that last one over, then shrugged. “I suppose this counts for pretty extraordinary circumstances though.”
“Look, let’s just find the camp first. We can figure out what to do next after that,” Nan said. “Just wait a moment, I’ll climb up and see if I can spot anything.” She dug her claws into the trunk of the nearest tree and started climbing upward. She’d barely made it two meters before the pain shooting from the base of her tail up her spine made her lose her grip, falling away to land in Nez’s outstretched arm.
“Nan, are you all right?” her roommate demanded, setting her down carefully. Nan slumped to the ground, breath hissing through her fangs as she fought the urge to cry out.
“I landed badly on my tail when the flyer exploded,” she said. “It… hurts quite a bit.”
“You should have said something,” Nez chided. “Turn around and let me see.”
Nan turned on her knees, as Nez began to probe the base of her tail with her fingers. She touched one vertebra very gently, but it was enough to make Nan bite down hard on a scream.
“That one?” Nez asked
“Yes,” Nan hissed.
“It’s not broken, but it’s definitely sprained, or it might even have a hairline fracture,” Nez concluded. “I can’t tell anymore without getting it imaged. I thought you were holding your tail awfully still.”
“Can’t be helped right now. How about I just take two analgesics now and I’ll call you in the morning?” Nan joked, standing up again with Nez’s help.
“If we had any analgesics.” Nez turned her head just as Nan’s ears pricked up at the sound of several figures pushing through the tanglefoot grass, at least whom sounded like creo and the other muffled, but high pitched and scared. Nan pointed at the top of the tree and Nez nodded, the wazagan clambering up into the branches while Nan hid behind the tree trunk.
A moment later two male creo came crashing along the path. Between them was a naked ferin doe, her legs kicking the air as they held her up by the elbows, her arms bound behind her, a dirty gag tied in her mouth and a metal and plastic dampening collar locked around her throat and over her spurs.
“A’right, this is far enough,” the first male said. “No one is gonna hear her at this distance.”
“Thought the little shits did whatever you tell ‘em too,” the second one said, trying to keep the struggling doe’s tail spade pinned between his arm and his side.
“That’s only if yer their master. This one a feral, aint’cha sweetie?” The first creo threw the doe down to the ground, grabbing one her ankles. “Help me spread her legs.” He started fumbling one-handed at his belt while the doe moaned under her gag.
Both of the would-be rapists looked up suddenly at the cry of Allahu Akbar! coming from above them, as one hundred kilos of blue skinned, purple haired and righteously indignant wazagan landed on the first creo, tackling him. The other creo let go of the doe, stumbling backward and grabbing for pistol at his belt. Nan leaped out from behind the trunk of the tree and landed on his back, wrapping her arms around his throat and hanging on for dear life.
“Nez! The doe’s collar!” she yelled, grabbing at the second creo’s wrist as he tried to raise his pistol.
Nez reached over and grabbed the top of the doe’s dampening collar, heaving with all of her might. The tough plastic hemming the ferin’s spurs twisted, then cracked and snapped off. Nan let go her opponent and jumped clear just as the doe’s bion blast caught the creo square in the chest. He fell in a heap, curling up into an unconscious ball, muscles twitching spasmodically.
“What about the… the other one one?” Nan panted, rising shakily to her feet. She needn’t have bothered to ask. The first creo lay on the ground, his head twisted at an unnatural angle, his neck having snapped against a protruding root when Nez landed on top of him.
"I think I killed him." Nez leaned down and checked for a pulse. "I definitely killed him."
TBC
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Date: 2011-05-12 09:06 am (UTC)And yes, the slavers are Not Nice. At all.