Saturday (Gaming)

by Bones , The Last City, Earth, Sol System, Wednesday, July 22, 2026, 11:42 (15 hours, 32 minutes ago) @ Bones
edited by Bones, Wednesday, July 22, 2026, 12:08

SATURDAY
LOCAL CALENDAR: MAY 23, 2026
MILITARY CALENDAR: SEPTEMBER 22, 2552

In an instant, I’m awake and alert. The room remains shrouded in darkness, the only sensory input being that of the little chirping birds beyond my window. I exhale an exasperated sigh, for I know this dance all too well; my body has decided I’m awake and there’s no reversing that decision no matter how much I beg and plead. I fumble for my phone in the blackness, find purchase, and squint through the blurriness filtering to my eyeballs – 06:00 stares back at me. Yet more hours donated to the sleep deficit jar.

I rise in acceptance of my fate and conclude that I might as well use the early hours to my benefit. I waddle out to the mini-fridge in my suite’s adjoining room, crack open a cold can of caffeine, treat myself to just a few decadent sips of the forbidden nectar, and head back to my spacious personal bathroom. After a leisurely shave and a long morning shower, I return to the vanity and – with the precision of a surgeon – trim my moustache to military perfection. I have an important date with destiny tonight, and I want to make damn sure I look my best.

The morning hours see me organizing and prepping prizes for the day’s events, reviewing the gametype playlist with Revenant, enjoying some wonderful breakfast and conversation with friends, and locking down food preparations for lunch with our resident chefs. With all guests in attendance in a mostly coherent state, we gather everyone in the event room and review the day’s schedule. I expand upon the narrative and lore behind our event and outline the first activity – spending some time soaking in the sweet details. Inspired by the Halo: Outpost Discovery installations hosted by Microsoft and Halo Studios, I wanted to offer a similar if not smaller experience with our setup and decorations. Along with just playing some great games together, I wanted to give my guests a slice of that universe.

And with that, we’re back in New Indianapolis, the entrance to Circle Station’s ‘Concourse A’ welcoming its guests to the event space. Sounds of the bustling terminal fill the room – the laughter of friends, the cries of children, the rolling of luggage along the floor, and the warbles of intercom announcements echo in the background. The station’s display monitor on the far wall rotates through its content packet of promotional and advertisement material, and the recruitment officer at the nearby ODST booth lures visitors in with the promise of free swag. Myself and a few fellow cosplayers sport our New Indianapolis Transit Authority polos, ushering our very important persons to explore the exhibits, inspect and handle the props, pose for photos and selfies, and share laughs.

Eventually, Revenant gains some high-ground and uses his ‘big boy’ voice to heard everyone outside for the customary and ceremonial group photo.

With Revenant’s continued dedication, I wrangle everyone back to the seating area for a special message from our sponsor – myself. My effort is two-fold; I want to ensure that everyone knows each guest’s gamertag (in the off chance they weren’t able to meet and chat with everyone the previous day) as well as take the opportunity to essentially glaze everyone with compliments, with stories about how I met them, and with appreciation for their attendance. “Why,” you my dear reader may ask, “why shower love and affection, after allowing my inner goblin troll to absolutely devastate their fragile emotions the evening last?” Why is there darkness between the light? Why do thunderstorms bring life-sustaining rains? Why do my enemies’ hitbox not register my perfect headshots? Balance – balance, in all things, my dear reader. After aligning the group’s chakras into a most harmonious state, I lower the lights and play the actual ‘special message’ for which I’d gathered everyone together.

With cheers abound and the mood appropriately set, we rise and assume our battlestations. Nestled on the far side of the table, host and co-host confer with their playlist gameplan and begin again with Halo: Combat Evolved.

I must confess – much of the afternoon after this point becomes a blur; controller-clenching firefights, inventively-colorful insults, eclectic meme callbacks, escalating shouts of enemy locations, and the gentle repetitive ‘doot-doot-doot’ of the respawn timer counting down swirl in my memory. As with any well-planned event, the playlist we’d agonized over compiling weeks ago is almost immediately thrown away and cannibalized for the most memorable map and gametype combinations. Though far from a complete record of the battles raged across the ringscape that afternoon, I’ll do my best to put words to the carnage that occurred and share a memory from each.

Halo: Combat Evolved
FFA Slayer Pro on Prisoner
I spawn low on the first floor, tucked just inside one of the alcoves, and immediately press the ‘Y’ button. The hefty, metallic ‘cha-chunk’ of my Spartan racking the M6D’s slide floods my veins with adrenaline. While others might consider sixteen players on Prisoner to be confining, it’s nothing but a target rich environment for yours truly. I scan my surroundings ahead and immediately find my target on the second-level catwalk. Three rounds later and I’m beginning to remember the subtle intricacies of the venerable hand cannon’s feel on local network; the silky-smooth trigger cadence and gentle reticle lead begins to feel second-nature again. Bodies drop and grenades fly, sending the numerous corpses that litter the ground flopping into the walls. The arena becomes a meat-grinder as many players switch to the assault rifle and charge, hoping they can outpace bouncing grenades and close for the melee. Some are successful, many are flung on graceful arcs to the floors below. In the end, Snipe or Nart or someone else eeks out the win, probably due to spawn-camping or grenade-spamming or whatever.

Snipers Only on Boarding Action
I spawn with rifle in hand, and am immediately scanning the opposite decks for movement. I quickly sight my first target two floors above and land a round to their chest; I’m momentarily surprised when the rifle recoil doesn’t so much as cough and my reticle remains mostly on target. I finish off my long-range ambush with another round to their chest and, much like our resident namesake sniper, decide to go for kills rather than headshots. I spend the rest of the match firing two-round groupings, enjoying the cat-and-mouse vibe of the match as players scramble between teleporters and navigate the ladders.

2-Flag CTF on Blood Gulch
In what becomes possibly the standout match of the weekend, I’m assigned to Blue Team and spawn at the far end of the gulch – in an instant, I’m home. Untold hours spent in this box canyon come surging back all at once, rushing from my amygdala to the pre-frontal cortex; I’m maneuvering through the hills toward the center in attempt to control rocket spawn and callout any encroaching ‘hog rushes. I hear the staccato cracks of sniper fire and spot Schooly’s contrails drifting overhead; he’s cleared the canyon wall and surrounding grasslands for me. I’m slinking toward the rocket spawn, being careful to maintain concealment by keeping the lone brush between myself and the teleporter exit. I’m within arm’s reach of the rockets, seconds away from scooping them up to deliver fiery death upon the incoming warthog trio and –

– I’m gunned down in half-a-second flat by two Red Team campers hiding in the shadows of the canyon-side, their pistol muzzles belching smoke as my lifeless corpse whirls to the dirt. I exclaim a cuss.

After multiple failed Warthog runs, brutal give-and-take advances along both Blue Team’s cavern and Red Team’s cliffside, and several flag pulls from both sides that crushingly end in swift returns, Revenant’s gaze catches mine and we discern that perhaps we’ve balanced teams too well. Somewhere in the distance, Schooly astutely remarks that the match has evolved into our own version of ‘Epic CTF’ – the famously timer-less version championed by the TSD community back in the days of Reach. The absence of the Scorpion, Ghost, and Banshee vehicles, eschewed in favor of a more classic vibe, has limited the likelihood of large swings in combat flow, too. That is, until a dastardly charlatan on the Blue Team blows the dust off an old chestnut straight from the grifter’s playbook.

Malagate
“One of my favorite memories has to be blocking the teleporter on Blood Gulch to secure the CTF win!”

After heroically fighting off multiple attackers to hold the middle, I respawn on the top of Blue Base and gather my bearings. I triumphantly rally my compatriots and make for the teleporter and – nothing happens. I sincerely believe for several moments that my console has frozen or the network connection has failed; I sit patiently awaiting the black screen that’s sure to follow and anticipate the groans that will fill the room. Bamboozled, the shifting dazzling lights at the bottom of my screen rouse me from my stupor; my teammate KG is still engaged in a ruthless brawl near Red Team’s teleporter exit.

“They’ve… they’ve blocked the teleporter,” spills out of my incredulous lips. In the far-flung recesses of my dusty old braincase, a forgotten book breaks through its cobwebbed netting and falls open on the creaky floorboards, the pages flittering before finally resting open; the words scribbled on the page laid bare detail the ancient ‘legitimate strategy’. I’m immediately enraged by the sheer disgusting guile, the insidious treachery of the act. Who needs enemies with guests like these?

I can’t dispute the effectiveness of their duplicitous tactic, however, as map control shifts favorably toward Red Team and pushes the majority of combat engagements to the large hill and surrounding areas around Blue Base. Despite several attempts to dislodge it, the Warthog remains firmly in place for much of the remaining match; only too late is the obstacle finally removed and a few half-hearted runs attempted.

As the thirty-minute timer hits zero, we end the match – much to Malagate’s mistaken memory – in a resounding draw. I’m both physically and mentally drained after such a white-knuckle affair; the compulsory blood sacrifice to the capture-the-flag deities is spilled early in the event. We decide to break for lunch and indulge in the incredibly delicious White Chicken Chili that’s been marinading in the slow-cooker into the afternoon. It’s life-giving proteins and hearty spices both heal my spirit and mend my broken fingers.

[

Meanwhile, Paddy and Bonkle clandestinely inflate what will eventually become our LAN mascot. Nart proclaims aloud passages from the good book of Buc. Schooly supplements his lunch with questionable side-dishes. We all devour the remaining donuts, save for one very important pastel pastry. Killhammer returns to his station with a most exotic drinking flask, unaware of the associated deep lore from past HBO LAN events.

[

Halo 2
FFA Slayer BRs on Ascension
As with Combat Evolved, we begin our foray into the sequel with another free-for-all match to knock off the rust and warm-up our dormant muscle memory. Much like Prisoner, the carnage is fast and fierce with this many players crammed into the map, but there’s a beautiful chaos to the action. With my respawns relegated to the lower bridge and low-lying surroundings, I spend most of the match attempting to storm the tower – which remains an absolute meat grinder of bullets and grenades.

2-Flag CTF on Containment
Per special request by Revenant, we load up our own heavies-variant on one of the title’s best downloadable content entries. Brimming with Warthogs, Gauss Hogs, Banshees, and Scorpion tanks, the map intends to offer the very best of the Big Team Battle experience. The round begins and I’ve spawned at the base of the barrier wall, the large ramp leading up to the Banshee spawn looms before me. I ascend to board the alien death machine and immediately gun the boosters, arching high across the ice fields and hugging the rock outcropping along the edge. I utilize the Banshee’s hover to basically cling to the rock face; an iridescent spider awaiting his unwitting prey. I hear the low rumble of four treads plodding just beyond, so I swing the nimble aircraft around the cliffside and perfectly align my crosshairs on the enemy Scorpion – my thumb hammers the ‘B’ button and spits fiery green death upon the cornered combatant. Except, nothing happens. Dumbfounded for a moment, my Banshee drifts lazily through the air on a direct collision course with the tank. I smash the button twice more before the realization collides with my befuddled consciousness – Halo 2’s incarnation of the Banshee doesn’t have the fuel rod cannon in multiplayer. I thrust my joystick backward and throttle my boosters in attempt to escape, but the Scorpion’s turret has already pivoted and blows me out of the sky.

Team Slayer BRs on Lockout
In an attempt to inject some variety into our weekend’s playlist and appease our competitive spirit, we split into two separate four-versus-four matches several times throughout the day. In this particular instance, I convince Revenant to join me in a fool’s errand; I know that the TSD boys have been secretly clamoring to ride into glorious battle together, and we’ve been forcing them apart to balance teams. We decide to ‘let the dogs have their day’, and fudge the team numbers for this match-up. Inevitably, it’s ‘Team Hardcore’ versus ‘Team Mid-core’ – Schooly, Nart, Snipe, and Paddy take on Revenant, KG, myself, and Cadet.

I spawn low in the grav-lift room, my least favorite location, and immediately clamber toward the three-story tower. The battle rifle bursts come fast and hard, but I’m able to hold my own and escape thanks to some clever footwork. I surprise even myself by surviving a few encounters with Schooly and Nart, and my team is able to gain a foothold on the tower rooftop and surrounding walkways. We succeed in pinning Team Hardcore near the sniper tower for a short time, using our tower’s walls to bait and evade sniper fire, but are eventually dislodged by a successful flank. Once we lose the three-story tower, we never gain it back and spend the rest of the match eating rounds from above. Ultimately, by the time the scoreboard posts our ratios on-screen, those darn rotten TSD boys have us beat by at least fifteen or so kills.

Stabbim
“I’ll never forget winning a battle rifle dual against Schooly once; he killed me pretty much every other time he spotted me, but still!”

In-between the commotion, two more guests arrive for an afternoon visit – InvertedJoy and Vondey. Foundational members of my family’s local Halo crew, the combined hours we spent playing campaign co-op and split-screen are innumerable. As I greet them and briefly show them around between matches, my mind flashes back to our younger selves spending hours performing Warthog launches across the Silent Cartographer Island that would make Randall Glass proud.

1-Bomb Assault on Terminal
I spawn in the maintenance garage with the rest of Blue Team and beeline for the Warthog. As I shoulder the heavy burden of both inspiring team leader and essential bomb carrier, I astutely identify the very important, very deadly enemy Wraith tucked into the rear corner of the courtyard. With plenty of time to swing his Gauss cannon abroad, I politely inform Paddy to cover his left flank as the Warthog swings around the bend – and continue to watch in horror as he first shoots an unmanned, parked Ghost and then unloads rounds into the nearby enemy wall.

The alternating offensive and defensive rounds see a variety of strategies evolve to break the opposing team’s onslaught. Snipe becomes an insufferable menace by camping the higher-level defender spawn zones. Schooly and myself attempt to rally our team and retake the parking garage’s upper floor. InvertedJoy and Bonkle turn the underground passageways into a butcher shop with their energy swords. Korny Munky sneaks into our base on multiple occasions, spying on our tactical positioning and thwarting our bomb defusals with timely callouts. Syndrome is splattered by high-speed commuter travel.

Nart
“For me, my favorite moment would be loading into the best Halo game (Halo 2) for a match of the best gametype (asymmetric objective, in this case, one bomb) on one of the all-time greatest maps for the best gametype (Terminal) – hearing the slightly syncopated buzz of the ambience coming from sixteen gamers on eight screens, the woosh of the train in the pre-round preview screen, the announcer telling us what to do, and the chatter of teammates trying to organize a gameplan. Then, the old neural pathways firing up and somehow still remembering where that pile of grenades is, how to make that jump, the best ways to actually win the damn game, and how amazing it is that this much fun was actually just right there waiting for us all to make time to go have it.”

Team Phantoms on Backwash
While my heart believes this combination to be a remnant from Halo 2’s ‘Action Sack’ playlist during the Xbox Live heyday, my brain can’t seem to conjure a concrete memory as such. Regardless, this ridiculous match-up found new life when we attempted to play during our first HBO LAN back in 2012, but ended up being a stuttering mess due to poor Xbox 360 emulation. When brainstorming the playlist for this event, I knew this might be my last opportunity to rectify past mistakes – and how! With blinding bolts of blue and red plasma fire streaking through the darkness, the murky swamp slowly transforms into a dazzling kaleidoscope of death and yet the framerate remains buttery-smooth.

Emerging from the forerunner structure’s recessed ramp, my teammates circle left around the edge of the bowl-shaped bog while I duck between the bulbous trees and charge the center. The eerie silence is broken just as I secure an additional brute plasma rifle and swing in from the flank; I’m momentarily stunned by the volley of flashing light and strain to discern friend from foe in the crossfire that’s engulfed the gloomy trench. My answer is to just start blasting into the fog and sort it out later, which proves successful in stopping the enemy’s initial push with only a single fatality from my friendly-fire. I deem that a price I’m willing to pay.

Team ‘Noob Combo’ on Colossus
Serving as one of the prize rounds later on in the day, I task the group to choose a partner for Multi-Team Slayer. The catch? One member of the two-person team can only use the Plasma Pistol, while the other only their Battle Rifle. I’ve chosen Fembot as my battle-buddy and volunteer to spearhead the charge (literally) with my trusty green bolt-caster.

Despite some early pains with a few dubious duos – who were allegedly confused on their weapon assignments – and threatening to “turn this LAN around”, the match proceeds to be much more chaotic and entertaining than I’d originally imagined. In a turn of amusement, Fembot and myself end up being thrown around and separated whilst fighting amid the large central gravity lift, attempting to reconnect between all the incoming battle rifle bursts and laughter.

Halo 3
2-Flag CTF on Valhalla
I spawn with Red Team near the lakebed beam tower and jump into the grounded Banshee. In an attempt to apply early pressure on Blue Team, I hit the boosters and arch into a tight turn. I soar around the cave entrance and over the crashed Pelican, leveling out only to make slight adjustments in trajectory before hitting the boosters again. Anticipating the incoming barrage of missiles, I’m unfazed by the incessant ringing of the warning alarm indicating the enemy’s missile pod is locked-on. My hands tense as I spot the incoming plumes and prepare to execute the lateral flip maneuver that will dodge the initial salvo. I hold for just a heartbeat and then press the ‘A’ button with immaculately-timed precision – only to execute the laziest of sluggish rolls, gently turning end-over-end, only able to watch in utter dismay as the missiles course correct toward me. It’s only as the flaming canopy falls to the dirt along with my tumbling corpse do I remember that the Halo 3 Banshee’s aerial acrobatics pale in comparison to the speed and gracefulness of its Reach counterpart.

Team Slayer ODST on Waterfall
Spawning on the frigid balcony of the research station’s upper deck, I splinter off with several other teammates and advance along the outer walkways; we brandish our suppressed submachine guns and suppressed magnums, checking corners as we clear rooms. With no shields, no motion trackers, and the headshot damage multiplier disabled, we’re forced to prioritize flanking, team-shooting, and effective communication to win engagements. In the distance, three of the distinctive red ‘X’ icons flash across my peripheral vision and I frown; we won’t be receiving any respawned reinforcements in this single-life gametype and the odds might have just stacked against us.

After catching two opponents off-guard and dropping them at distance, I duck behind an alcove and wait. Just above the rushing sound of the nearby waterfall – an apt name for this originally ‘Halo Online’ map that was later ported into the Master Chief Collection – I can make out the clanging of heavy boots on metal grating. I prime and toss my single grenade, bouncing it off the adjacent wall and into the other room. One rattling explosion and two flying corpses later, I round the corner and pre-fire as I cross the threshold – caseless rounds ricochet off the corner struts before finding their mark and cutting down the last enemy contact. Alternating muffled coughs from my squadmates’ magnums discharge off to my left and a sharp yelp rings out in the distance. “Round over,” announces Steitzer.

Donner Party on Avalanche
On several occasions throughout the afternoon, the muffled chant of ‘don-ner-par-tee, don-ner-par-tee’ rises above the ambient commotion between games. Eventually, Revenant and I decide to indulge and pass the party leader responsibilities to Schooly D. Unknowingly, we’ve signed-up for several rounds of an Infection-based scenario amongst the snowy drifts of Avalanche; the survivors must make a desperate break across the open ice fields to reach the lone defendable outpost, all the while pursued by the slightly faster and slightly floatier undead. With shocks and laughs abound, the gametype was so nice we decide to play it twice.

Halo 3: ODST
Floodfight on Lost Platoon
Splitting into two eight-player firefight lobbies, we decide to engage the Flood en masse and appreciate two of the best features that Halo Studios incorporated into the Master Chief Collection. As myself and Revenant configure the settings and begin our matching sessions, several protests bubble up through the chatter –

“Floodfight? What’s that mean?”
“Wait! Stop the countdown! We haven’t split into teams yet!”
“What? We can play with eight players?”

Indeed, my sweet summer children. As my screen fades from black to the putrid green haze that permeates the African air, I volunteer as wheelman and jump into the driver seat of the nearby Warthog. Tearing across the terrain and through combat forms alike, we carve a path around the perimeter for several rounds – that is, until the flood pure forms and ghost-driving combat forms start showing up. After getting chewed up by high-speed barb fire from ranged forms, I recklessly execute a sharp turn around a corner to escape and drift right into the waiting carrier form. One explosive ‘pop’ later and our once indomitable machine of death is now careening through the air, tumbling end-over-end before striking the concrete wall and spewing flames. Those not immediately crushed by the collision are cut down as they attempt to limp away from the writhing blitzkrieg of flesh popcorn.

Halo Reach
Invasion on The Hushed Apprentice
Listen, everyone knew this was coming – you don’t host your own event and not play the premiere and arguably best Invasion experience available in Halo Reach. I have standards. What everyone may not have known, however, is that I’d impressively improved upon perfection and reworked several capture zones, as well as adding an additional flanking route near a common chokepoint, all in celebration for this occasion.

As the round begins, I’m pleased to hear that someone notices and is left impressed by the Pelican dropships I’ve added to the attacker spawn, giving off that little extra bit of ambiance. I’m less pleased that no one seems to notice any of the other stellar additions I’ve made, and I’m even less impressed by my team’s performance; we’re barely able to hold off the enemy from capturing our core. To add insult to injury, we’re skunked at the last minute during our attack despite myself holding-off most of the defending team single-handedly. I make a second vow to institute some sort of TrueSkill rating system prior to my next shindig.

Invasion on Sangheili Don’t Surf
In honor of legacy hosts past, I queue up an ol’ Bluerunner original and favorite Invasion entry from the days of Reach. In anticipation of the ‘great forge map migration’ that occurred when Halo Reach launched for the Master Chief Collection, I made sure to save a copy to my fileshare for automatic conversion to the new formatting. Thankfully, my preparation proved fruitful and we were able to enjoy this modern classic again seven years later.

It appears that Father Time has done nothing to aid the group’s memory strategy-wise, though; piloting the Falcon for the attackers, I dominate the skies with my two door-gunners and effortlessly evade the slow-moving plasma bolts from the stationary turrets. It seems that I’m the only player who remembers the location of the hillside Plasma Launcher – which I wield with impunity on defense to cut down three or four enemy Falcons before they catch on. While we were ultimately stonewalled while trying to arm the second-phase bomb on offense, my team returns the favor and then some by skunking them during our defender round.

Paddy
“Rarely in this life do you get to dream fondly of the past and then get to see it just as it was all those years ago. My kill-death-ratio may tell you I haven't played Halo in a long, long time – but the cheers and jeers of my true friends would tell you we haven't missed a beat. It's sad they stopped making Halo after Reach...”

With the sands of Forge Island successfully defended, we break for dinner. With plenty of mouth-watering pulled pork and white chicken chili leftovers, along with additional food brought by Syndrome and Korny Munky, I leave the group to graze and withdraw back to my suite to gather prizes and make final preparations for the evening’s surprise.

[

I return to the event space and turn on the lodge’s projector once more. In continuation with the in-universe storyline alluded to with my announcement back in December, I allow a small crowd to be drawn in by the sights and sounds of these special messages –

While the original concept involved spacing these alerts out throughout the afternoon and in-between Halo games, keeping everything running smoothly thus far has occupied much of my time and I resort to playing them back-to-back here. It’s less ideal than I’d hoped and leaves behind some of the tension and atmosphere that I’d wanted to build, but I remind myself that hosts must remain attuned to their audience’s needs. The city alerts conclude and I double-click to start the ‘second course’ of my narrative experience, gently increasing the volume nob on the speakers as the video appears.

The hustle and bustle inside Circle Station suddenly drop and give way to hushed tones, which are eventually overpowered by the rising emergency sirens that crescendo in now deafening reverberance. The station dims dramatically before backup generators kick-on to power emergency and egress lighting; the sky outside follows suite, as black clouds swirl menacingly and darken the horizon. The large display screen flickers to life; the city’s Superintendent-AI ‘Skully’ displays a direct feed from the CCTV systems stationed around New Indianapolis. The station’s guests can feel the dull, bellowing vibrations before the rumbling echoes reach them – sounds of invasion. As the UNSCDF garrison stationed ground-side engages the enemy, the city’s defensive batteries and cannons open up –

To cap off the day’s regularly-scheduled gaming, we participate in several ‘party-themed’ prize rounds for the next hour, with both winners and losers scoring prizes ranging from Covenant-themed sticker packs to high-quality prints to signed copies of Leviathan’s recent novelization cover art.

As the light outside begins to wane and I check the clock on my phone, Fembot and Revenant approach me with serendipitous intent; the time has come. We quickly delineate each person’s required tasks, after which I quietly slink away and abscond back to my quarters once more. Despite the last few days’ worth of sleep debt having rapidly caught up with me, my heartbeat quickens as I open the closet door and begin reassembling the aforementioned classified materials.

Back in the event room, my co-host gathers our unwitting guests and proclaims that three team captains shall be chosen. Murmurs begin to accumulate and questions form on the tips of the throng’s tongues, but these are quelched by a stoic Revenant. Schooly, Nart, and Snipe are selected and carry out a school yard-style draft of the remaining players, eventually culminating in the following teams –

TEAM SCHOOLY
Schooly D
Killhammer
Korny Munky
Bonkle

TEAM NART
Nart
Malagate
Stabbim
KG

TEAM SNIPE
Snipe
Syndrome
Pixel Fox
Padraig

With my secret preparations achieved and finishing touches applied, I hurriedly guzzle another shot of liquid caffeine in attempt to stave off my growing weariness. Standing at attention in the mirror, my eyes scan the reflection in one last visual inspection before I lean down to splash water on my face. I towel off and begin heading toward the entryway, just as Fembot appears in the door frame; she informs me that the group is growing restless with excitement. I nod and instruct her to announce my entrance. As I take my mark just beyond the side door to the main event space, I take a slow relaxing breath and allow myself to slip into character. As Fembot’s booming announcement of “CAPTAIN ON DECK!” cuts through the idle chit-chat, I grip the door handle and twist.

OPERATION: GRIDIRON
CITY OF NEW INDIANAPOLIS
MILITARY CALENDAR: SEPTEMBER 23, 2552

In keeping with the tradition I started during my first HBO LAN back in 2012, each gathering has seen us compete in a similarly-themed firefight event. We split into teams of four, select the map we most fancy, set fifteen minutes on the clock, give teams a little time to discuss their gameplan, and essentially play ‘score attack’ with the winning team earning matching prizes and bragging rights. With this iteration’s theming, I’d decided to lend a little more narrative weight to the scenario and really go the extra mile.

I conclude the mission briefing and once again snap a crisp salute to the men and women I’ve just sent to their deaths. As Fembot graciously finishes passing out each team’s ‘tacfilm planners’, I bring up the lights and team leaders begin reviewing with their squads. While Revenant works out the rearrangement of player accounts to accommodate team seating, I remain on-station and in-character to answer any questions the Spartans may have for Captain Helm. In a moment of carelessness, I mistakenly crack an ‘out-of-universe’ joke and Schooly scolds me on the spot. “Don’t break character now! This is great!” he reprimands his commanding officer. I decide that a military tribunal would be too much of a hassle at this point and let the insubordination slide.

Pixel Fox
“Some of my favorite moments were Bones coming out in that damn fine UNSC uniform, the commitment to the bit throughout – from the snacks to the low-fi war beats to relax to – and looking over the Firefight map to consider our strategy. I’ll remember Snipe beginning to draw his deployment idea in such a deadpan manner that it takes the rest of us a moment to realize the plan just so happens to be phallic-shaped!”

Syndrome
"Hands down, my favorite moment was watching you walk inside in complete uniform with your glorious and beautiful ‘stashe. I had goosebumps. The files shown on the big screen and the storytelling were absolutely incredible. I replay it in my head just to relive the magic – and the genius idea with the planning folders! It really helped build the camaraderie between us again and to get a feel for what kind of squad we were. Although our plan didn’t look impressive on paper… well, size doesn’t matter! It’s how we performed, and God did we bust ass!”

With the mission preparation phase drawing to a close, the stage is set – my custom generator defense gametype on Halo Reach’s Beachhead map, heroic difficulty, twenty minutes on the clock, and one life per player with no respawns per round. Rather than highest scoring, the team who survives the longest will be crowned the winner.

I grant my Spartans just a little more time than the initial planning allotment, then announce the mission status as ‘green’ and order the participating players to man their stations. As each squad hunkers down in their seats, the room grows quiet and the countdown chime ticks off. An inquisitive Fembot leans over and queries in a hushed tone, “What if more than one team survives the twenty minutes?” I turn my head slightly in response. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry,” I reply, “Wait until you see the Elite wave.”

The Spartans spawn on high ground inside the recreational complex and begin to execute their gameplans. The standout loadout seems to be the ‘Marksman’, with eight of the twelve players choosing to spawn with DMRs and three others choosing the ‘Grenadier’ selection. An interesting note of strategy, Snipe selects the ‘Air Assault’ loadout for its versatile jetpack and swaps his assault rifle with Pixel Fox’s designated marksman rifle while Paddy supplements his anti-armor loadout with the nearby Spartan Laser.

The opening waves ramp up slowly, with initial swarms of Grunts and Jackals supported by Wraith tanks taking firing positions in the rear flanks – the Sangheili Commanders are probing each team’s defensive lines with fodder infantry. Team Nart discovers just how tenacious the little buggers can be, though, and lose one of their generators within the first 90 seconds.

Schooly D, Killhammer, and Bonkle all take up firing positions near the elevated walkways, covering Korny Munky in hijacking and commandeering the lone enemy Ghost. Team Nart’s own Stabbim and Malagate are the only players to utilize the Rocket Warthog, circling the perimeter and engaging enemy armor. Team Snipe sets up a perimeter and directs their efforts around Generator A’s surrounding ramparts.

As Covenant bodies hit the dirt, heavily-loaded Phantoms swoop in to drop reinforcements – waves of Grunts give way to veteran Elites escorting Jackal squads, formations of Jackal Snipers, fuel rod-wielding Spec Ops Grunts deployed via drop pods, and a fast-attack blitzkrieg of Skirmishers. In an unfortunate incident, either from an unseen pinpoint plasma mortar round or a fortuitous plasma grenade, Nart shuffles off this mortal coil and is the first casualty of the night. Without their namesake leader to rally their spirits, Team Nart is eventually routed and cut down in a hail of plasma fire.

Team Nart
Score: 8,634
Mission Time: 8m 16s

While still in the fight, Team Schooly and Team Snipe haven’t found themselves in any less dire straits. The Covenant escalate their ground strength by deploying Hunter kill-squads supported by Jackals, hot-dropping bloodthirsty Brute infantry wielding concussion rifles, and ferrying additional Wraith armor onto the backfield. The increased pressure begins to mount as each team loses at least one generator and is forced to redistribute their positioning and switch up their tactics to compensate; fireteam comms begin to sound a touch more harried, with slight undertones of desperation breaking through the terse callouts. Syndrome attempts to fall back to higher ground and is suddenly caught between overlapping fields of enemy fire; her shields and armor melt away from the scorching onslaught. She drops to the ground, still firing her rifle in one last gesture of defiance.

The Sangheili Field Commander has grown impatient – it’s time to end this little game. As planned, the Phantom dropship deployments have bought time for his Sangheili warrior detachments to covertly maneuver just outside the engagement grids. He strikes the transmit icon on the comm node’s control pad and the signal goes out. Twenty-two elite Sangheili airborne operators thruster down from the sky and descend upon their prey. Just beyond wait another twenty-six Majors, Officers, and Ultras, their plasma and needle rifles bristling with energy, eagerly anticipating the follow-up order to attack. The rear-vanguard – another sixteen warriors supported by eight cloaked assassins – laugh in alien tongues at their enemy’s futile display of bravery.

The sudden and sheer ferocity of the alien ambush catches both Schooly and Killhammer off-guard; their shields are quickly overwhelmed by the volley of fire and collapse. Dozens of needle shards pepper Schooly and he detonates in a blinding pink blaze. Killhammer is gunned-down by plasma repeater fire from three separate angles. With their flanks exposed, Bonkle and Korny Munky can no longer defend their objective and the remaining generators are swiftly destroyed.

Team Schooly
Score: 19,069
Mission Time: 14m 3s

Rattled by the battlenet reports of their teammates’ fate, Team Snipe struggles to regroup after Syndrome’s unceremonious death. Valiantly, the three Spartans leave no quarter and fight for every inch the alien devils take, but are eventually battered against the rocks by the crashing wave of the Covenant war machine and the generators fall.

Team Snipe
Score: 24,642
Mission Time: 15m 59s

Thunderous applause resounds as the last of New Indianapolis’ fallen heroes lay down their controllers. After a short series of congratulations to everyone and sharing of standout moments, I call forth each team to receive their prizes and (posthumous) awards.

In third place, for their bravery in the face of overwhelming odds, Team Nart is awarded two enamel pins – the Legendary Difficulty Crest and the ODST Insignia. As I present the pins to each contestant, I repeat the words “Thank you for your service” before gently placing them in their open palms. When finished, I return to the head of the formation and snap a crisp salute. “Dismissed.”

In second place, for sheer tenacity and dedication to the mission, Team Schooly is awarded the ODST flag, tucked and folded to military regulation with the seven customary folds. Again, I thank each recipient for their service to the UNSC. Again, we salute each other and the flag. “Dismissed.”

In first place, for unwavering resolve and sacrifice to New Indianapolis, Team Snipe is awarded our highest honor – four M1 Combat Knives specially crafted at Misriah Armory. Both myself and Revenant share the proper handling etiquette and history behind the blades before presenting each to its new owner. “Thank you for your service,” I reprise as I look them in the eyes. “Dis-missed!”

With one last accolade to be awarded, I call for the group’s attention once more and raise the reward – a lovely-scented, crackling candle labeled ‘Eau de Filthy Casual’. As the first Spartan to fall in the Battle of New Indianapolis, the candle is bequeathed upon his scrubbiness, Sir Nart.

Revenant’s voice suddenly resonates from behind me and I wince in embarrassment; in my weary state, I’d completely forgotten that my co-host-in-arms has his own series of awards to bestow. I usher the group over toward the table at the end of the room and join them as Revenant takes the spotlight. Two rows of golden Mark V helmet trophies – celebrating both our event and Halo’s 25th anniversary – are meticulously laid out with associated placards. Along with the standard issue plate, Revenant has emblazoned some special accolades to distribute. Padraig wins the ‘Gauss Boss’ label for most kills with the Gauss Warthog’s turret, Stabbim the ‘Friendly Fire’ award for most betrayals, Korny Munky the honor of ‘Rustler of Jimmies’ for his general trolliness and commentary, Syndrome the prestige of ‘Accident Prone’ for most suicides, Nart the decoration of ‘Flag Collector’ for most captures, and Schooly that of ‘Sniper Lethal Vector’ for most headshots. We all tease Snipe with ceremonial ‘oooohs’ until Revenant reveals Snipe’s award of ‘Hyper-Lethal Vector’ for the most kills across all games, upon wherein the ‘ooohs’ switch to tease Schooly and we all laugh.

As the energy and excitement wind down, I spend the next half-hour or so posing for pictures in my uniform and enjoying the conversation around the room. Team Schooly dedicates their flags to Lord Buc, and I even salute His Buc-ness in a sign of respect. Schooly D and company jump into some matchmaking games and are summarily punished for being too good.

Eventually, I implore Revenant to handle any guest accommodations for the evening and excuse myself. Having returned my uniform to its hanger and protective cover in the closet, I sit down on the edge of the bed and collapse – I am utterly exhausted. I click off the bedside lamp and slowly shut my eyes, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. I smile as I begin to drift away, thankful that everyone seemed to enjoy the little slice of pageantry I’d concocted. I whisper to myself, “I think… I think you done good, buddy.”

Bonkle
“If it were up to me, this would have been a LAN week and not just a LAN weekend.”