Conversely, many 90s PC game stories are transportive: you are the last surviving marine on Phobos You are a traveler sucked into the world of Myst You are a rag tag, down-on-your-luck space pirate at the edge of the frontier. In most modern games, players inhabit a character: Kratos, the Master Chief, Aloy. Gamers used to extended tutorials complain of the lack of onboarding, the complexities of space combat are reduced to complaints of "turning forever", one poster even muses what the point is of making a game so pretty only to cover it up with an ugly, chunky cockpit. It is also the beginning of Rebel Galaxy Outlaw, a brand new game by Double Damage that aims, in almost all respects, to bring that most elusive relic of 90s gaming, the space combat simulator, to modern times.Ī quick perusal of the Rebel Galaxy subreddit shows why this revival has been so difficult. This is the beginning of Wing Commander: Privateer, the most beloved spin-off of the blockbuster Wing Commander franchise that drove PC gaming in the 90s. It's garbage, but it's your garbage, and the universe of possibilities is yours. Glancing at your ship, hunk of junk that it is, you can't help but smile. This one shouldn't be too bad, you think, not really knowing what "too bad" even means. So you browse the mission computer dumped into the concourse of the station and use its chunky buttons to browse through low-risk, low-pay patrols, cargo runs, and bounties. They won't take you without an upfront fee you just can't afford. Looking to make some scratch, you poke into the office of one of the Guilds: the lush, wood-panelled luxury of the Merchants Guild, or the gunmetal sparseness of the Mercenaries Guild. "I hate to break it to you." The gaudily dressed salesman tells you cheerfully, but forcefully: the cheapest of these is way above your snack bracket. On your way to the equipment bay, you pass through the ship dealer and pass through the shadows of a titanic cargo freighter, a boxy little tank perfect for a bounty hunter, and a sleek military-grade fighter. You've got just enough cash to make one improvement, maybe some better armor or another gun. There's no way to know friend from foe until they start shooting. The radar is older than you are- it'll tell you where the other ships are, but that's about it. A boxy chunk of a spacecraft, as aerodynamic as a shipping crate. Duraplast domes provide glimpses of the sparse foot traffic inside, where exhausted miners and dock workers step aside to make way for powered carts hauling crates of imported goods to the commodities market. Landing lights, heavy metal plates and pressure doors. And I'm on a budget."Ī mining station carved into the structure of a massive asteroid. "Protecting myself from your type gets expensive. Auspicious Beginnings: Stories about how things start
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