#Faster than light game series#
This would make for a terrible experience if FTL never allowed a chance to improve yourself, but its design encourages learning from each playthrough, and a series of unlockable ships with specializations make the punishment a bit more bearable. It’s a design that colors almost every victory with a hint of fear you’ll cheer that you made it out of the latest ordeal alive but fret once you see your battered hull integrity, your dead crew members, your ever-dwindling supply of fuel, and then realize that you’re only halfway home according to the map. They’re also frequent while you’re still learning (and even when you’re a veteran), and particularly infuriating if you’re on an unlucky playthrough which tosses you nothing but difficult adversaries. Deaths like these are permanent, so you’ll have to start your journey across the galaxy again from scratch if you want a second chance. FTL thrives on scenarios like these, and the constant demand of strategic thought is alleviated only by the ability to pause and give several orders at once. Barely 30 minutes in, and already I’d experienced my own Kobayashi Maru. I tried to open the maze of bay doors to put out the fire but sacrificed too much of my oxygen in the process, and other calamities caused my remaining crew members to perish and my hull integrity to deplete to zero. I attempted to knock out the enemy’s missiles by clicking on his weapon room, but one of their missiles hit me first, which knocked out my own weapons and started a fire in my weapon room. Around six jumps into my first playthrough, for instance, I found myself opposite some godly ship that teleported an enemy saboteur into my engine room, and I had to send one of my crew members into fight him. It’s also frustrating at times, because the randomly generated nature of FTL means an otherwise uneventful journey can devolve into tragic chaos within seconds even on the easy mode.
It's tough at first, particularly because you only have three crewmembers to man the four mannable stations scattered throughout your ship, and the ship itself starts out with what seems like the weakest weapons and shields the Federation could spare for this supposedly important mission.
The enemy has the same systems for targets, and it’s your job to damage theirs while protecting your own. FTL is a micromanager’s dream come true, and the 2D projection of the ship’s rooms makes juggling the maintenance of your own ship while combating another refreshingly intuitive. These real-time ship-on-ship battles are the heart of Faster Than Light’s gameplay, and in their best moments, they pile on the tension by forcing you to make split second decisions at every turn. Play And, of course, you’ll have plenty of run-ins with the rebels. These jumps also yield what little narrative FTL has, as text-based pop-ups force you to make risky decisions such as aiding besieged space stations for the chance of loot or carrying on safely with your systems intact. Sometimes you might find yourself in an asteroid field, and worse yet, sometimes you might find you’ve jumped into a deadly ion storm that eats at your reactor’s power while you wait for the jump drive to recharge. Still, it’s a treacherous journey, particularly because travel centers on faster-than-light “jumps” that boost you to another node in the galaxy with little understanding of what awaits you. Unfortunately, that focus on simplicity also renders the galaxy into a dull place, since the same backdrops of asteroid fields, nebulae, or populated planets pop behind the map of your ship regardless of your progression. Your vessel is a Federation ship carrying important data, and its sole mission is to outrun and outmaneuver the rebel fleet that’s always out to get you.
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