Operation Sea Dragon

The locals thought this was “The crowning success of innovation.” Yeah, sure. Why the fuck not? This damn pissa shit probably wouldn’t have passed the Aviation Administration’s current safety inspections. Not only that but this dinosaur was over a hundred years old.

I have no idea how they managed to find all the parts needed to get a Douglas Dakota back in the air but these feudal era monster girls also demanded to have it converted into a ground attack aircraft. And thus Puff, the Magic Dragon flies again and here I am stuck in the copilots seat next to my rapist of a Flight Lieutenant. She is some hoity-toity Hellhound that jumps me whenever she is drunk and now I have to sit beside to her for the next few hours. That is assuming this fifteen thousand kilogram Vietnam War museum piece doesn’t fall apart in the air. God help us all.

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The flaps bit into the slipstream as I brought the gunship around for the payload run. The fanciest toys on the other world would spin around and dance in the air with the simple turn of a controller. That must be how human woman could be pilots. However, with this beastie, I was glad to be a Werewolf with plenty of muscle to wrestle the controls to move it where it needs to go.

It certainly was more fun to wrestle with than the tease in the copilots seat. He had been coming onto me for weeks, dishing out his best compliments and what not. Then when I returned his advances, he tells me that he isn’t into women. Says he only likes other guys. I don’t get why that changes anything. I mean if he likes ass then that’s fine because I have it on good authority that mine is quite nice. And I can give it as good as I take it with a strap-on so what’s the big deal?

I’ve just about given up trying to reason with him. Earth humans are strange indeed. Let the Manticores and the Amazonians break them in, I say. I’ll find a proper, fun loving mate in Glilia or Uwhal.

“Guns hot,” A voice calls out over the earphones.
“Guns hot,” I acknowledge. “Commencing final approach.”  The engines roar louder as the flaps cut further into the air when I tilt the plane on it’s axis. At least I could worry about maneuvering the gunship without lining up the three guns. Some Earther weapons chief was in the back of the plane with a magic box that did the targeting.

“Firing in three… two… one-”

“Holy shit!’ I barely hear my own voice shout. I expected a surprise but damn! I was told about the three ‘miniguns’ in the two rear windows and side cargo door being able to plow up a game stadium in a few seconds. Intellectually, I could appreciate that meant many, many bullets ripping into choir boy and paladin fortifications but actually experiencing it was something else.

It was the ear splitting sound of metal being continuously ripped as the plane rattled and shook. “Fuck me blind.” The copilot breathed. Damn him and his mixed signals. “look at that.”  I strained my neck to look out the window. Our target, a wood sailing ship anchored in the harbor. Now, It was little more than fiery hot splinters.