After The Change: Infiltration (Patreon)

It was obviously insanity. The orders had seemed so ridiculous that they had drawn open gasps and incredulous cries from the assembled leadership. There seemed to be no value at all in the enterprise, and the delivery was wrong headed. It was seen as such a suicide mission that only volunteers with no familial connections were allowed to take part. No spouses and no children. What could even be learned from  such an operation if it was successful? What samples and observations could be taken that would advance our knowledge of the giants who now roamed the earth. It was clear from the desperation of the move that our scientists knew nothing about how the giants came to be and how they could maintain their size. This was a shot in the dark. Implicit in this mission was survival over a limited period of time. Where can you live on a giant’s body? How could you move around? In this case its size would be our advantage. It was the only advantage. That and luck.

The team had been on high alert for weeks when the call came. A target had been found. They were go.She was huge. At almost a mile tall it was hoped that once infiltrated she would not even notice their presence. After a few days, when samples had been acquired and mission objectives had been achieved the team could drop off her; like ticks. The most difficult part would be the landing. 

She was sleeping against a mountain range and it would have taken too long for the team to walk in from a position so far out and then climb to a suitable location on her body, so they were to be heli dropped in as she slept, as close to her naval as possible, a location it was thought they might be able to hide undetected.

They approached below the horizon, rising up between her legs to the plateaux of her belly. As it crested the cliff of her vagina the the chopper skimmed over her pubic hair, trying to maintain as low a profile as possible. It was then that the first signs of trouble began. Maybe the breeze from the rotor blades had stirred her sensitive hairs, but as the squad began to drop to her skin one by one, a hand arced slowly and almost lazily through the air. To scratch and itch? To swat a fly in a remembered reflex from a simpler time? Regardless, the colossal finger smeared the squad across her skin almost as soon as they had touched down, clipping the helicopter and causing it to spiral out of control, crashing with the loss of all crew less than a kilometre away. A fools errand indeed. With no luck.