2 halo adventures combined into one cool story. I really did all of it.
Armor is on, and I'm ready, dropped into the field, pistol in hand. I charge it up to full power, ready for whatever comes. I am running toward the concrete and steel base when I hear it. That sound, like the air was being raped and murdered. The Banshee swoops down, and I throw myself to the side, jumping right over it's wing. The agile little plane crashes into the ground and goes up again, coming around for another try.
There I am, no grenades, no shotgun, no heavy weapons. Only a plasma pistol, which will barely penitrate the thing's armor. Praying to god, I ready my weapon as he comes around for another pass. This time he hovers, tries to fire. The super heated plasma rains down, burning through my shields, reaching for my brain. I hit the ground and come up, my hand shakes as I let off the shot. The burst of engergy strikes the underside of the banshee, shearing through and hitting him in the belly. He is wounded but still dangerous. He brings his vessel down for another try at running me over. I charge up my weapon again, and wait. He is coming down straight, its my only chance. I let off another shot, and it hits dead on. The armor protects him from most of it, and he keeps coming. I throw my self over the plane as it scrapes trenches in the earth toward me. I hit the ground, somehow unhurt. I let off one more shot, at the rear of the vehicle. Somehow I hit, and the shot is true. He falls from the banshee dead.
I run inside the base, time is short. I grab what I need quickly. Shotgun, ammo, pistol, ammo, Grenades. Then the shot comes in, the rod of plasma detonates across the base, but it hurts my shields. I try to take him down with a pistol, but it's no good, he keeps coming, keeps firing.
Then! a distraction, another man is shooting at him, and he turns, long enough for a precise shot to penitrate his shields and armor, sending him into the dirt. But my makeshift ally is not long in his helpfullness. He rushes into the base, firing at me. I pull the shotgun, and it takes 4 shots before he throws himself through the transporter. I follow, unware of what horror awaits me.
I come out the other side, in time to see the grenade land at my feet. I leap into the air, hoping, somehow, to avoid death. The grenade goes off, and shrapnel blows through my shields, my armor, and lodges in my hip and leg. I pull my pistol, and hope. Luck is with me, because he is retreating, putting the advantage clearly in my favor. I let off four shots from my pistol, and he goes down.
My shields return, but I am in bad condition, I run up the hill, hoping to get to the next base unmolested. But fate was not kind to me that day, because an enemy sniper is just up ahead. I open fire on him, but he returns it. the battle is even, until I feel the shells enter my back. the sniper in front of me has two men with him, and they are behind me. I begin to dispair for my life, but empty the clip of my pistol, somehow managing to down the man in front of me. I turn around and throw a grenade wildly, hoping to hold them off until my shields can return. Fate may have just reversed her verdict, for the first of them walks right on it and around a blind corner to stand, wounded, in front of me. I let off two shots of my shotgun, and he returns them, destroying my shields. He falls to the earth just as the last enemy presents himself. He also has a shotgun, and his shields are intact, his armor spotless.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. I am bleeding from the grenade's shrapnel, several shotgun blasts, and a sniper bullet in my shoulder. I struggle to hold up my shotgun, and somehow, I let off one precise shot as the final man rushes toward me, because he falls to the ground, dead, his helmet another piece of scrap metal.
I begin to limp to the next base, where battle is already commenced. I come into the middle of a firefight, a hand to hand, rifle butt to plasma muzzle conflict that leaves no room for parlay. I reload my pistol and take out the first two men in my way, staggering toward the medpack. But a man rises up, in my path, a pistol in his hand. I throw my final grenade, and as luck would have it, the force of the blast throws him from the base. I stagger to the medpack and mend my wounds before chasing down the man who was thrown from the base.
He puts up a stern fight, but falls in the end. I stand victorious, all my foes vanquished, the enemy lies under my boot. I turn, surveying the world I own. I turn full circle, and there he is. He stands confidant, rocket launcher upon his shoulder. Waiting for me to move.
5
4
3
2
1
Armor is on, and I am ready, dropped into the field, pistol in hand.
There I am, no grenades, no shotgun, no heavy weapons. Only a plasma pistol, which will barely penitrate the thing's armor. Praying to god, I ready my weapon as he comes around for another pass. This time he hovers, tries to fire. The super heated plasma rains down, burning through my shields, reaching for my brain. I hit the ground and come up, my hand shakes as I let off the shot. The burst of engergy strikes the underside of the banshee, shearing through and hitting him in the belly. He is wounded but still dangerous. He brings his vessel down for another try at running me over. I charge up my weapon again, and wait. He is coming down straight, its my only chance. I let off another shot, and it hits dead on. The armor protects him from most of it, and he keeps coming. I throw my self over the plane as it scrapes trenches in the earth toward me. I hit the ground, somehow unhurt. I let off one more shot, at the rear of the vehicle. Somehow I hit, and the shot is true. He falls from the banshee dead.
I run inside the base, time is short. I grab what I need quickly. Shotgun, ammo, pistol, ammo, Grenades. Then the shot comes in, the rod of plasma detonates across the base, but it hurts my shields. I try to take him down with a pistol, but it's no good, he keeps coming, keeps firing.
Then! a distraction, another man is shooting at him, and he turns, long enough for a precise shot to penitrate his shields and armor, sending him into the dirt. But my makeshift ally is not long in his helpfullness. He rushes into the base, firing at me. I pull the shotgun, and it takes 4 shots before he throws himself through the transporter. I follow, unware of what horror awaits me.
I come out the other side, in time to see the grenade land at my feet. I leap into the air, hoping, somehow, to avoid death. The grenade goes off, and shrapnel blows through my shields, my armor, and lodges in my hip and leg. I pull my pistol, and hope. Luck is with me, because he is retreating, putting the advantage clearly in my favor. I let off four shots from my pistol, and he goes down.
My shields return, but I am in bad condition, I run up the hill, hoping to get to the next base unmolested. But fate was not kind to me that day, because an enemy sniper is just up ahead. I open fire on him, but he returns it. the battle is even, until I feel the shells enter my back. the sniper in front of me has two men with him, and they are behind me. I begin to dispair for my life, but empty the clip of my pistol, somehow managing to down the man in front of me. I turn around and throw a grenade wildly, hoping to hold them off until my shields can return. Fate may have just reversed her verdict, for the first of them walks right on it and around a blind corner to stand, wounded, in front of me. I let off two shots of my shotgun, and he returns them, destroying my shields. He falls to the earth just as the last enemy presents himself. He also has a shotgun, and his shields are intact, his armor spotless.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. I am bleeding from the grenade's shrapnel, several shotgun blasts, and a sniper bullet in my shoulder. I struggle to hold up my shotgun, and somehow, I let off one precise shot as the final man rushes toward me, because he falls to the ground, dead, his helmet another piece of scrap metal.
I begin to limp to the next base, where battle is already commenced. I come into the middle of a firefight, a hand to hand, rifle butt to plasma muzzle conflict that leaves no room for parlay. I reload my pistol and take out the first two men in my way, staggering toward the medpack. But a man rises up, in my path, a pistol in his hand. I throw my final grenade, and as luck would have it, the force of the blast throws him from the base. I stagger to the medpack and mend my wounds before chasing down the man who was thrown from the base.
He puts up a stern fight, but falls in the end. I stand victorious, all my foes vanquished, the enemy lies under my boot. I turn, surveying the world I own. I turn full circle, and there he is. He stands confidant, rocket launcher upon his shoulder. Waiting for me to move.
5
4
3
2
1
Armor is on, and I am ready, dropped into the field, pistol in hand.