Summer stirred awake from her brief nap aboard a UH-144S Falcon. "Morning, Buttercup." She heard the pilot say over the headset as Summer saw him glance behind him through the rearview mirror. "We're close to the AO." He informed, guiding the VTOL around a hill. "Get ready for OP."
"Right." Summer's reply came with a brief yawn as she slid the helmet's visor down, the HUD flickering to life. She leaned out, feeling the wind buffet her clothes as she looked out at the fleets of airships and strike craft breaching the remnants of the port factory and vaporized seabed—scars from the destruction of Mombasa and the Covenant occupation.
"Last checks," she heard over the helmet's built-in speakers. She double-checked her restraints, making sure her arresting bands secured her and her weapon to keep them inside the Falcon. "Check!" she called out, snapping her precision scope onto Thorn, then racking the bolt. She pressed her cheek against the rest, settling the crosshairs on the head of an unsuspecting Brute. Taking account of the VTOL's movements and the wind, she pulled the trigger. She watched as the tracered 22-millimeter round punched through the window, directly into the Brute's head.
Moments later, the Chief and Marines rushed in, supported by a Chainhog. She braced herself as the Falcon pulled out of the way of a plasma missile and bolts. "Hold on!" The pilot shouted as he put the VTOL into high-speed maneuvers before a Hornet shot it down. The pilot let out a whoop, only to curse when the Hornet was blown apart by ground fire from an anti-air Wraith.
"Get me a shot!" Summer shouted, holding herself steady while the VTOL moved beneath her feet. It leveled off to give her a clear shot. Using her semblance to account for the change, she aimed and fired Thorn, picking off high-value targets like Chieftains, Jackal snipers, and Grunts armed with Fuel Rod Cannons.
"HARD RIGHT!" she suddenly shouted, panic gripping her chest as her danger sense spiked. She was forced to hold on as the VTOL nearly went vertical, fuel rod shells sailing past them and detonating a safe distance away—except for one. It smashed into the jet engine, ruining it and sending plasma everywhere.
Summer hissed as some of the green goop splattered on her thigh, but she gritted her teeth and fought through the pain as she felt the VTOL lurch to the side. The sound of mechanical clattering and groaning filled her ears as the engine sputtered. "Fuck, we're going down!" The pilot cursed through gritted teeth as the VTOL rapidly lost altitude, flying over the factory while taking a few more hits from anti-air emplacements, sending the craft into a death spiral. She gripped the belts tightly as the out-of-control VTOL clipped an antenna before spearing into the ground, pinwheeling.
Groaning, Summer came to, feeling like she just went a few rounds with a Beringal. Her scroll screamed at her that her aura was dangerously low, a fact exacerbated by the white arcs of aura dancing across her frame. She picked herself up from the ground and looked around, ducking behind some wreckage as a purple beam drilled the air a bit too close for comfort. Finding Thorn, scuffed but still in one piece, she leaned out and leveled its crosshairs on the Jackal sniper's avian head. Blowing its brain out had the desired effect of taking the sniper out, but it also had the negative effect of drawing the attention of the defense force, who were ready to hold the line, along with a pair of Hunters.
"Fuck." She cursed just before bolting, Covenant weapons nipping at her heels. Sliding behind a sturdy crate just large enough to protect her, she heard plasma, heated spikes, and beams splash against it. To a degree, Summer was surprised it held against the barrage—until her mood soured when a plasma grenade stuck to her cover.
"FUCK!" Summer cried out as the crate exploded behind her, throwing her off her feet and shattering her aura. "Urgh..." she groaned, the feedback of her aura breaking leaving her dazed. She tried to get up but was sent back down to the ground as a foot stomped on her back.
"Rejoice, Heretic, for you will witness our Great Journey." The growling voice of a Brute Chieftain entered her ear as his hand gripped her neck, lifting her into the air. She was forced to watch as the Chief and Arbiter destroyed one of the anti-air guns. She watched as frigates and bombers blitzed through, the thunderous roar of magnetic-accelerated shells shoving the atmosphere out of the way, making her bones rattle as explosions dotted the spire-like ship.
Suddenly, the ground began to shift, massive steel pillars rising into the air. A beam of light erupted from the nose of the spike-like ship, and with a thump, a portal appeared. Its shockwave put bombers into uncontrolled spins, while frigates shuddered by the force, and crews scrambled to get their warships away. Infantry not hidden behind cover were thrown to their feet by gale-force gusts. Acting quickly, Summer drew her chainsword and cleaved through the Chieftain before using him as a springboard to vault over him—just as a crate came out of nowhere to crush the Chieftain's head.
Rushing up to where the Chief and Arbiter were standing beneath the destroyed anti-air turret, Summer's eyes widened as an instinctual sense of dread made a pit form in her stomach. There, just out of sight, a single Covenant cruiser exited slip-space. It belched pus-yellow smoke and had growths on its hull.
"Oh no..." Summer said, her eyes wide as saucers as it banked its way directly toward them. They watched as the craft sailed over the factory and crashed with a ground-shaking force.
"What's wrong?" The Arbiter asked, immediately on alert. "More Brutes?"
"Worse," was the Chief's reply, tightening his grip on his rifle.
"Hell just came here." Summer added, her voice steady despite the sinking feeling in her gut.
Happy (Nearly a month) new year!
I'm back and yes my Update schedule is still going to be random.
And oh, for those that comment that they hate the story, please by the love of Sabaton tell me why you hate it so that I can fix it.
Tangent aside, does anyone have gripes on using GPT as a error checker or story creator?