[This is the third article in a series. It deals with highly advanced concepts that build on those already established in the previous articles (one, two). If you have not yet read the previous articles, please do so; they are available on this site. Keep in mind that “more advanced” does not mean “more effective,” and that in fact it means nearly the opposite—while you can be effective and skilled with a grasp of basic concepts and no knowledge of advanced techniques, knowledge of advanced techniques will be useless without basic familiarity.]

Sometimes it is easy to overthink the entire process and concept of flying. In reality, there is nothing elaborate about it; it is simply moving and shooting while not being anchored by the ground. The controls are straightforward, the idea is basic, and the execution is a little tricky but essentially simple. As a result, just about anybody can fly a Banshee.

Skilled, experienced pilots will scoff and make the point that beginner pilots, those who are “not serious” (in other words, those who care more about other aspects of the game, and view flying much as a pilot might view sniping), are not real opponents and not worthy of sharing their air. The truth, though, is that the best pilot in the world can be killed by the worst pilot in the world. It is not chess; it is not arm wrestling or sprinting or rock skipping. It is not a pure shoving match of skill-on-skill. Anyone who flies, or even who menaces a Banshee without entering one himself (a ground attacker, for instance) has danger granted to them by the nature of the game. In Halo, all men are truly created equal, and here, “equal” means “deadly.” The manner and effectiveness with which the player acquits himself will do a great deal to affect his overall performance—by the end of the game, the skilled player will likely have a high score, the unskilled player a low one. Yet this is merely probability, and in the short term reality is less likely to adhere to statistical tendencies.

The worst player has guns, and grenades, and vehicles, and all manner of damaging tools. Like a baby with a razor blade, he need not be skilled at all with his tools to cause terrible damage with them; a blind man can fire a tank and kill you.

Thus it is important to remember that although one can train, study, and become highly skilled, comfortable, and experienced with a Banshee—or indeed with any other facet of Halo—in the end, all he is doing is improving his odds. You may always be beaten.

Sometimes when I’m feeling good I’ll call myself “The world’s second best Banshee pilot.” I’m being smartassed, of course, but the point is valid: There’s always somebody better, and they don’t need to be better over a thousand games—just right now, as they shoot at you.