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| | Genre: Adventure & RPG | | | Min OS X: 10.6 |
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Your crew are the other half of the gameplay equation. Depending on the circumstance, you may find yourself with a diverse set of crew members representing a wide variety of different alien species, all with different strengths, weaknesses, and abilities, ranging from fire suppression, to repair, to melee combat; the latter of which is handy for when pirates are trying to make your gloriously outfitted battleship into their gloriously outfitted battleship. Your crew members also change over time with a dynamic RPG-like progression system reminiscent of games like Dungeon Siege; if a crew member works longer at a given station or function, they'll level up in their proficiency with that station and give you a sorely needed bonus to shields, weapons, or evasion (read: dodging). Rockmen who spend more time fighting off enemy boarding parties will increase in their close combat skills, while Engi will quickly level up in their ability to repair damaged systems as you use them more and more. If you're sick and tired of boarding parties crashing your party, buy a transporter upgrade and let your crew bring the pain, for fun and profit. Just make sure that you beam them back before your beam weapons slice open that enemy ship...The plot is wholly unnecessary, but strangely compelling. Set across the backdrop of a benevolent Federation thrown into chaos by a powerful, idealistic Rebel fleet, you have in your possession the plans and weaknesses of a powerful Rebel flagship that when deployed, will spell certain doom for the flailing Federation. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to speed across the galaxy in your little piece of junk to get to the Federation home base... assuming that the Rebel fleet doesn't catch up with you first. Oh yes, did we forget to mention that there's an entire fleet chasing after you? It's a convenient and clever way to add some extra in-game tension, lest a crew get lackadaisical and wander around any given galactic sector, gathering ammunition and upgrades at will (thereby potentially unbalancing the game towards the end). As a result, the game is a constantly shifting scenario of gambling, risk-aversion, and tension. You know, from countless failures past, that you'll have to upgrade your shields, but will you have enough left over to upgrade your remote drones? What about replacing the crew member you lost when that solar flare set the O2 room on fire? And what if you encounter a store selling that ion blaster you've needed so badly? One of the in-game achievements even recognizes your potential indecisiveness (or miserly thrift) by giving you a badge for not spending any money on ship upgrades before Sector 5. Decisions about where you will go and what you will do become wracked with second-guessed cost-benefit analyses, and the game is nice enough to give you little glimpses of kindness – like that awesome level 3 burst laser you found randomly floating in space – before brutally screwing you over in epic fashion. And boy, will it screw you over. I once entered into what seemed like a routine battle with a unmanned Rebel scout probe, in a brand-new Federation Osprey cruiser with a sweet weapons outfit whose disregard for shields was matched only by Apple's disregard for PPC users in 2008. It wasn't until then I realized that the ion storm breaking out in the nebula I'd just jumped into had decreased my energy by 75%, cutting off the use of half of my shields, my sickbay, and a third of my weapons. That distracted me just long enough to fail to notice that the drone was lobbing hull breach missiles at me... and of course, it was after I'd decided to swap out my anti-missile defense drone. After a valiant battle, my remaining two crew members rushed to put out the last fire in the Artillery Beam room, and just as they entered the door, the fire destroyed my one remaining point of hull strength, and my once proud ship disintegrated into a fiery conflagration. ...and then I clicked "Restart". Moments like that truly make or break a game - separate a virtual shelfware title from a companion that sees you installing it and reinstalling it again and again. Picard may have gotten sucked out of the airlock as he valiantly tried to repel that last Rebel boarding party, and Jayne may have been obliterated by a Pegasus missile as he tried to repair the hull breach in the weapons room, but we are but one click away from resurrection, validation, the sweet promise of success, and the immediate hope of righteous vengeance. If that doesn't ultimately make a game good, then I don't know what does. In conclusion, FTL: Faster Than Light is an innovative, creative, and challengingly addictive game that's both approachable for casual gamers, and engaging for hard core nerds and gamers who want to imagine themselves in the Captain's Chair of the ship of their dreams. The many unlockables, including achievements, ship classes and ship layouts, provide for a large amount of replay value, making this game a stellar value for the money ($10 direct from the developers with a redeemable Steam key, and $9.99 on GOG with extras). The graphics, soundtrack and sound effects of the game are firmly rooted in the 16-bit SNES/Genesis-style neo-retro chic of many indie games today. It's not for everyone, but it ultimately fits the game's core mechanic. Pros: • Really high replay value
• Simple to learn, but hard to master
• Shamelessly tugs at all of your sci-fi geeky heartstrings
• Addictive Cons: • Retro graphics and sound aesthetic may be a turn-off to some
• Addictive
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