Category: Video Games

So it turns out that these inexplicable conflicts with the Federation are centered on this mystery prisoner that I had neglected to mention before, since really he was just another source of skippable dialogue, and what dialogue I did read didn’t offer much of an explanation since the game was wanting to keep this little bit of intrigue as a hook to get people to finish the tutorial.  From memory, I’ll try to reconstruct a conversation Kur’P Ud Wakk had with this NPC:

Kur’P Ud Wakk:

“Haha, I have you in the brig.  Why is the Federation after you?”

Prisoner:

“Haha, I will only answer you with a vague foreboding of future events, hinting at wide-spanning politics of which you know nothing about.”

Kur’P Ud Wakk:

[Something Klingonese]

Prisoner:

“I’m also going to escape, like 3 friggin times.”

I mention this now because apparently I was recapturing this guy and picking him up from a penal colony.  So I do that, and we have another variation of the above conversation.  Then I leave, hopefully to get hammered in-game, because the dragging tutorial was killing my real bourbon-induced buzz.

I was then instructed to go to another planet, which I presumed was the Klingon homeworld, because although I might be a bit of a nerd, I really don’t remember the name of the Klingon homeworld.  I beam the prisoner down to the prison.  In fact, the cutscene showed me beaming him down between two guards, immediately outside of a holding cell.  He then walks 5 feet into the cell and the forcefield activates.  That seemed unnecessary.

Now, I do remember from a TNG episode where they were beaming a prisoner between holding cells, and they had to drop the forcefield and energize at the same moment, because the forcefield interferes with that.  But that doesn’t explain why I couldn’t beam him into the cell when its forcefield was deactivated.  Star Trek seems to struggle to maintain their technological canon, like if you can beam into a ship when its shields are up, or fire weapons from a cloaked ship.  I guess when things interfere with a plot device, the technology changes.

Anyway, prisoner delivered, I needed to talk to him again, which was another variation of the above conversation.  Then, having received no further information on the mysterious prisoner plot, I got to leave the prison and enter the station proper.  Now I was free from the eternal shackles of Tutorial, right?

Nope.  Now I had to go to the proving grounds or something.  Apparently, even though I had violently usurped the captain’s chair, I had to prove my worthiness through…more violence.  Were the Klingons always this single-minded?

The proving grounds was a raised platform in the middle of the station, where during Klingons’ much needed downtime, in order to relax, they hack at each other with bat’leths.  The ringmaster informed me that in order to challenge someone to a spar, I needed to talk to them.  Thanks, ringmaster.  You just advised me that in order to communicate intent to another being, to use our shared language to do so.  I’m not sure if the game’s regressing, or if it’s just always going to treat me like an idiot.  Then again, I did fly the Bile Hurk directly into an asteroid cloud twice, so maybe this treatment is justified.

First, however, I noticed a passing Orion in the 20 feet between the ringmaster and the ring, so I had to stop and take a gander:

That isn’t my screenshot, but it is a true rendering of a Star Trek Online Orion.  Is that their work attire or casual evening wear?  If the game mechanics allowed it, Kur’P Ud Wakk was about to bury his bat’leth into a giant lizard’s face and then go grab that Orion (they don’t).

Back to the sparring now.  So, I walked up to any number of giant lizards who apparently just hung out around the ring, waiting to be challenged, even though I had to talk to 3 of them in order to find one open to accept.  Guess how I talked to them?  That’s right!  I pushed “A”.

Then something unexpected happened.  When battle initiated, I was given a mini tutorial inside the main tutorial, which explained how to use a bat’leth.  And no, it wasn’t “A” or the right trigger alone.  There were combinations, involving patters of the right trigger and the right bumper.  I failed to commit the extensive list of commands to memory however, so when battle began, I fell back on my Soul Calibur experience, and with the deft dexterity of a master gamer, proceeded to button mash as quickly as possible.

Kur’P Ud Wakk responded by having a seizure.  The giant lizard, uncertain what to make of the apparently break-dancing Klingon, must have figured he was simply getting served, for he stood motionless and made no attempt to decapitate his foe.  That would be his undoing, for in the midst of Kur’P Ud Wakk’s flailing, enough blows landed upon the lizard that he tapped out.  Victorios, Kur’P Ud Wakk returned to the ringmaster, who congratulated him.  But, not one, but two matches were required for arbitrary reasons.  As with the asteroid debacle, the game must have figured I needed more practice, so I ran back to the ring for one more challengee.  But there were no takers.  Apparently the lizards, not having the sweet moves to match Kur’P Ud Wakk, honorably declined.

This is about the time that Joe, playing through his own tutorial in tandem, announced that he just got an achievement for completing the tutorial, thus confirming first that it was indeed a tutorial, and that it was almost over.  Also, the moment he completed it, his character’s isolated spirit form popped into a commonspace corporeal existence, for he could see Kur’P Ud Wakk, though I couldn’t see him.

To expedite the process, I simply asked how the fuck do I complete a second spar, and he advised to talk to the ringmaster again.  It would seem that I hadn’t mashed the “A” button enough times, and for some reason I needed her blessing first in order to wail on strangers who have the audacity of being in my vicinity.

As before, I completed the mad skillz break-dance routine and emerged victorious, if not with a lessened reputation.  One more talk (AKA pressing “A”) with the ringmaster, and the angelic ding of Xbox Live achievement recipiation indicated my own tutorial completion.  I too immediately underwent corporeal transference, and in an instant I could see Hugh Janus–an alien of some sort, 4 feet in stature.  And so, Kur’P Ud Wakk and Hugh Janus–an amusing irony of juxtaposed statures, became instant besties and for the first time contemplated a joint course of action.

–Simon

Wrong.  The parameters of the game were still the masters of my fate, and fate deemed it necessary that I complete the tutorial, which still wasn’t finished.  In hindsight, I know that this was a tutorial, and I suspected it was at the time, but the game never actually made that clear until said tutorial was finished.  So there was a little bit of confusion on the part of Alpha Pwn at the time.

But my irritations were assuaged when Kur’P Ud Wakk finally got the opportunity to command the Bile Hurk personally.  And to mark this momentous occasion, I was tasked with scanning asteroids.  Actually I was told to scan some asteroids, and I, unfamiliar with the peculiarities of piloting starships, lurched forward uncontrollably at full impulse.  My new first officer, anticipating my novice blunder, stopped the Bile Hurk before it collided catastrophically with the asteroids, then berated me for my idiotic flying.

Even without the tutorial’s onscreen guidance, I deduced that in order to start scanning, I should push “A”.  But, no mystery material lay within this batch, which was the game’s clever way of telling me I needed to practice flying a little more, else my first officer fail to save me again, or simply kill me and take command himself.

The problem, is that the navigation commands have a limited set of customization, so after a lengthy experimentation phase, I had to settle on a set of controls that were only slightly more intuitive.  Still, I had some more practice under my belt now, and I felt confident I could navigate a ship through space–something inherently almost devoid of obstructions under normal conditions.  How hard could it be?

I demonstrated this newfound confidence by orienting the Bile Hurk towards the next set of asteroids, and slightly increasing impulse velocity.  But, the impulse drive responds exponentially, and in short order I was once again on a kamikaze run at full impulse.  My first officer again stopped the ship, and again told me to stop trying to crash the ship.  I think he threatened me that time, too.

But, there’s one thing that I could do well, and that’s push “A”.  I scanned those asteroids and found that mystery element.  Crappy flying notwithstanding, I had still managed to advance the tutorial.  There was dialog, and I skipped it with the magical button “A”.  Why?  Because I was losing interest and really didn’t care anymore.  But then, for reasons unknown because I had skipped the dialogue, there was space battle!  And I almost wished that I had paid attention as to why.

No matter.  This ship was going down!  I closed distance, sighted my enemy, and…targeted him by pushing “A”…or was it the right trigger?  Can’t remember.  Apparently my crew was firing the disruptors.  That made sense, seeing as the Bile Hurk looked like a Bird of Prey.  I mean, it has an entire crew, and logic would only follow that they served a purpose beyond providing dialogue which I needed to skip without reading.  Still, I had to perform the maneuvers myself, allocate resource priority, and…that’s it, really.  And I couldn’t figure out the resource thing.  And I sure wish I knew how to launch photon torpedoes.  But, this being the first space battle of the tutorial, the ship was defeated as quickly as the Bile Hurk’s former captain.  Huzzah!

Then, two more ships arrived.  There was some more dialog, but as a Klingon, the only options I was given were to destroy them, taunt them and destroy them, or really give them a good taunting and destroy them.  I defaulted to the first answer, as this only involved me pushing “A”, and for some reason I just didn’t feel it necessary to be a complete asshole to every NPC immediately.  The battle proceeded as before, except this time I figured out that ship orientation mattered because the more powerful forward disruptors could only hit things directly towards the front (so aptly named).  Maneuvering, therefore, was more important than originally perceived.  Also I noticed that shields had sections, so it was important to change orientations as I took fire, while at the same time trying to repeatedly concentrate all my fire on one section of the enemies’ shields.  Truth be told, I was finally having fun.  But still, I couldn’t figure out how to fire photon torpedoes.  And no, it wasn’t “A”.  That was the targeting button.  Or was it the right trigger?  Hrm.

Battle concluded, a large Federation ship warped into the vicinity.  I think at this point another Klingon vessel had arrived too–something story-related that would have had more context had I actually read the dialogue.  But by this point I had become a chronic “A” button masher.

Anyway, this Federation ship wanted something.  I was given variations of the three options as before–increasing levels of taunting.  The Federation ship taunted back, which I found highly uncharacteristic of those Federation goody-goodies.  Then again, this might have been earlier in the timeline, before The Next Generation turned humanity into a band of socially-progressive niceguys, courtesy of 1980s feminism.  But the ship appeared to be a Galaxy-class, which wouldn’t fit the earlier timeline.  This made me really wonder when exactly in the canon this game fit.  Maybe it was an Excelsior-class ship instead?  That would have made more sense.  In any case, battle ensued, the ship was way stronger than the Bile Hurk, but two more Bird of Prey warped in and together we vanquished the large Federation ship for reasons unknown, because as I’ve mentioned before I wasn’t really paying attention to the story.  Oh, and I still didn’t know how to fire photon torpedoes.  There was a cloaking device though, rendered of limited use because game-balance prevents using it while in battle, so after I was required to use it to advance the tutorial, haven’t touched it since.

But, admittedly this is where the game shines.  Space battles.  Now, Kur’P Ud Wakk is a seasoned captain, and he managed it despite driving into two asteroid clouds, and all made possible with the mashing of button “A”.

–Simon

I enjoy the free Xbox Games With Gold system.  It allows me to game noncommittally, freed from an obligation had I actually purchased the game.  And, I get to dabble with game genres I wouldn’t normally touch, or experiment with a game that just didn’t look very interesting.

So it was that I found myself playing Star Trek Online, although not technically an Xbox Games With Gold freebie, since the developer/publisher had long-since released it under a “free to play” model.  Turns out it’s been free to play for over 5 years.  Technically, it’s an MMO, and again I’ll mention my general lack of interest for that genre, but it’s difficult to find a fun multiplayer cooperative story-mode game, so when my old college friend Joe (of our informal gaming clan Alpha Pwn) found the game, it sounded like cheap entertainment to accompany an evening of bourbon while Liz was out getting a massage.

Game downloaded, we began.  First, though: character creation, the nemesis of impatient gamers everywhere.  As I was not impressed with any aspects of the game by this point, and having imbibed a sufficient amount of bourbon as would befit a Friday evening, my normally pretentious gaming demeanor had given way to my Mr. Hyde side and I succumbed to vulgarities.  The already-irritating customization screen conjured forth adjectives.  Pudwhacker–more of a descriptive noun really–a word whose primary meaning had fallen into obscurity over its adapted use, like douchebag.  That would make a fitting name for a dumb character in a dumb game.  But, I had chosen to play as a Klingon, and that didn’t sound very Klingon-y.  Briefly consulting my memory of silver-screen Klingons, I remembered large violent and ugly humanoids, perpetually angry, constantly spouting loud and hard consonant-laden interjections of discontent, like “Kur-pla!” and “Kodak!”.  I therefore adapted Klingon language and mannerisms to Klingon-ize the name, and became Kur’P Ud Wakk!

I also had to name my ship.  Again I lapsed into thought, ultimately realizing that when Klingons speak, it sounds like they’re hacking up furballs.  As a continuation of this theme, I named my ship the Bile Hurk!  I shall be Kur’P Ud Wakk of the Bile Hurk!  So let it be written.

The theme for the game now having been set, Joe was obliged to follow suit, and so chose the name Hugh Janus.  Together, Kur’P Ud Wakk and Hugh Janus shall seek glorious battle!

But first–the agonizingly lengthy tutorial, which we each had to complete on our own.  Okay, so glorious team battle would have to wait.  Apparently this game had a story.

[SPOILERS]

I’m not sure how accurate these spoilers will be, since I’m writing them from memory, but there’s your courtesy warning.

I began as the second officer of the Bile Hurk, doing menial second officer things apparently, like activating a terminal so I can learn how to push “A”, then going to the holodeck for simulated battle, i.e. pushing the right trigger.  A few disruptor shots later and I was apparently very tired, because I was then told to go to sleep…on the cot in the middle of engineering?  Okay, sleepy time.

There was a lot of talking to crew members too, presumably to establish the backstory.  It wasn’t riveting storytelling so I don’t remember much (also, bourbon).  But then, the Bile Hurk fell under attack!  Glory!  Fortunately, I had just completed that refresher battle training, so I was well-versed in looking at enemies and pressing the right trigger.  We were being boarded without a space battle because of some shenanigans on the captain’s part.

Boarding parties eliminated, I booted up the ship defenses or something, which involved me walking up to a terminal and pushing “A”.  Then I had to talk to the wounded crew, also by pushing “A”, because wounded Klingons need a little peptalk too.  Thankfully, that was the first training I had received on board the Bile Hurk–pushing “A” at that terminal to transfer crew orders.  In times of crisis, one should always fall back on their rigorous military education.

But then it was time to call out the captain for his traitorous actions.  I went to the bridge, and discovered that he had killed his first officer for some reason along the lines of “she did stuff I didn’t like”.  Sometimes I wish I could really be a Klingon.  Anyway, because the captain did stuff I didn’t like (namely, letting boarding parties beam aboard and attack us–something generally uncool), I challenged him to glorious single combat in the ancient right.  He accepted, and I immediately defeated him by…you guessed it…pressing the right trigger.  He dropped from a single disruptor blast, which in hindsight wasn’t very Klingon-y, but it was the weapon I had equipped at the time.  I’ll just tell everyone that he died honorably so his family won’t come after me.  You know: Klingon code and all.

Finally, I was captain and the master of my own fate, right?

–Simon

‘This is the 27th of Last Seed, year of Akatosh 433…’

How do I know this?  Why, because I’ve done this before…many times before.  And Patrick Stewart, once my beloved icon of humanity’s future that will never be (if you say Kirk was a better captain, I’ll stab you), is now the voice of Uriel Septim VII, emperor of Tamriel.

The human mind, while adaptable, remains fragile.  And through this combination, it copes with chronic negativity through distraction and self-delusion.  And alcohol, but that quickly hits a point of diminishing returns.

So it was during my adolescence, when I had failed to build meaningful friendships, and any social standing I had with my peer group was suddenly destroyed from a move cross-country, when we had first acquired broadband and internet downloads were more innocent, that I discovered in earnest the land of shareware–trial versions of software, and in a time before the synergy of computers and consoles, the place to find games.

Enter: Avernum.  It was unlike any game I had encountered before.  It was my first encounter with a sandbox RPG.  I could travel a fantasy land at will, unrestricted by plot objectives and invisible walls.  I could complete stories when I wanted, all the while exploring the landscape and intricate lore of its creators.  It was a livable book.  I was instantly hooked, and played this series well into college.

Then the XBOX 360 came out, and it’s flagship title, The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.  And while I couldn’t afford these, my roommate, spoiled by a lucrative major, Bio-engineering, and his summer internship at Pfizer Pharmaceuticals–he could.  He was also a whore to social popularity, so it didn’t take him long to acquire.  It became the immediate go-to game for our circle of friends, bickering over taking turns yet passing the controller in accordance with vaguely defined codes of honor.  And like Avernum, Oblivion quickly became my escape from worldly personal problems–job, girls, school, etc.

Over a decade later, my own deprecated XBOX 360 still remains wired to my entertainment center for one reason: Oblivion.  Other games have since taken center stage, but Oblivion remains eternal–at least until this old console breaks.  Through some odd form of emotional conditioning, whenever the stressors of life take their toll, out comes Oblivion.

So when I started cutting back on my drinking, I sought comfort elsewhere.  I booted up the XBOX 360, which now in comparison to contemporary hardware sounds like a vacuum cleaner.  And in short order, Patrick Stewart began his monologue:

‘I was born 87 years ago…’

From the other room, my wife announced her concern and asked me what was wrong.  Apparently she’s recognized this correlation too.

Soon enough, the winter will break and I’ll be occupied with a myriad of other far more productive projects.  The levity of spring will usher in another year of life and happy memories.  The weather is already changing and I can feel the winter depression and its associated vitamin D deficiency waning.  But for now, it’s cold and dark, and I really need to relight those dragonfires and banish Mehrunes Dagon.

–Simon