Star Citizen in 2020 (Chapter 2) - Space Detective

The take-off was not as smooth as I had hoped, but I managed to guide the Aurora out of the letterbox-entrance of the hangar and we shot off towards the stars. The cave was located a fair distance around the planet, and I would have to leave the atmosphere in order to perform Star Citizen’s version of a warp/hyperspace/frame-shift jump. Reaching an altitude of over 12,000ft I spun the ship around, spooling up the drive with a single button press. The process involved me aligning the nose of the craft with the destination, which was not the cave itself, as I could only jump to locations where there was a beacon, meaning I would have to fly a portion of the journey.

Of all of the space simulation games I have played; I think Star Citizen’s jump mechanics are my favourite. They are complex enough to require learning, but simple enough to explain and understand, both inside and outside of the game lore. A deep sound rumbled all around my senses and the metal hull of the Aurora shuddered as it shot off towards its destination. The sound design also plays a huge part in games like this, and CIG have done a very solid job. There was a blast like a cannon and we exited quantum travel above a sea of white. Micro-Tech looked beautiful in the day-time, and even more so as we sped towards the surface. I marked the cave’s location on my HUD and rotated to fly in the correct direction.

My first mistake was underestimating the distance between the cave and my orbital drop point. On the planetary map it had looked like a fair journey but, as I opened up the throttle and whizzed over mountains and tree-tops, the kilometres counted down far slower than I thought they would. That, and a four digit value was a long way to travel by any means of transport. It wasn’t long before red warning text flashed up on Tem’s visor: ‘fuel at 75%’. I passed thick pine forests, barren ice fields and a vast frozen sea littered with enormous icebergs that were five or six times the size of my small spacecraft. ‘Fuel at 50%’ - another warning, but still no sign of life. The distance was ticking down, but doubt had already flooded my mind. Do I turn back? Is it worth the risk?

It would have been a pretty pathetic end to Detective Tem but, equally, so would turning back. Taking risks was something I would have to get used to, even if it was Tem in the firing line instead of me. Despite my lack of enthusiasm about the chance of the Aurora’s engines shutting off and dropping my character into a frozen lake to his dreadful demise, I re-aligned the Aurora’s drifting course and gritted my teeth. This was either going to be the slowest death in the history of the galaxy and the biggest waste of time I’d had all week, or an experience I would always remember Star Citizen by. Or both.

I peered around the glass arrowhead that housed my existence and tried to stave off the worry, rolling the thought over in my mind again and again. All it would take to escape this rapidly deteriorating situation would be to angle my ship vertical and spool the drive, and before I knew it, Tem would be stepping back into the safety of a warm terminal. As I watched the fuel counter drop slowly, calculating its correlation with the distance value, I tried to force the image of Tem holding a sandwich and looking happy out of my mind in favour of ogling at the scenery, and what I saw would have been enough to make the little test subject squeal with relief and anticipation, probably.

For the past ten minutes the landscape around me had been the same flat, boring ice lake but, on the horizon, a black peak. I had finally reached the opposite coast of the frozen sea, and there was no better time for it as the Aurora’s fuel gauge was looking more and more unhappy as the seconds passed. The objective marker on my HUD had previously been out of my line of sight due to the planet’s curvature, but now it was straight ahead. I wondered what the threshold was for the minimum amount of fuel I would need to exit the atmosphere because, whatever it was, drew closer as every nail-biting moment passed.

Clearing the mountains that marked the coast’s border, Tem and I were faced with a hilly forest, a snowy clearing and- a cave! Cutting the throttle, I realised I hadn’t taken into consideration whether there would be enemies at the site, which could mean more fuel if I had to land cautiously. But nothing popped up on my radar, and nothing popped up in my peripherals, so I hastily guided the small ship down to the cold ground. I checked that Tem still had his helmet on – as the atmosphere was not breathable – and pulled out his sidearm.

Boots crunched onto white and the doors hissed closed as Tem scanned the hills and trees for movement, but there was no sign of life. Not knowing whether we were even going to be able to leave the landing site, Tem flicked on his headlamps – or he would have done if I had realised I needed to purchase a helmet that came with them first, cursed, and walked cautiously towards the cave mouth.

‘Tense’ is not even an accurate enough word to describe how I felt as the floodlights that decorated the entrance dropped off on by one. Gun raised; I checked every movement as Tem clambered clumsily down towards the gloom. The inside of the cave was dark, but the walls were illuminated by portable lamps at intervals and this, combined with poor footing and the fear that a raider could jump around the corner at any moment, made the trek into the earth slow. There aren’t any aliens in this game yet…right? I took every corner prepared for a face-full of lead and laser.

The game’s sound occasionally glitched-out and my ears would be flooded by the sound of wind and snow, but when it was quiet it was quiet. Dust drifted from the roof and small rocks crumbled. Somewhere, a very faint mechanical sound uttered, but I wasn’t sure whether it was in the game or simply ambient sound effects. Either way, the atmosphere in the cave was terrifying and I loved it. Star Citizen’s movement mechanics really shined here, as I slowed to a walk and climbed on ledges, jump across gaps and leaned around rock formations. My only wish was that the movement speed while crouched was changeable, but I loved the vibe of the situation so much that I was willing to forgive a few errors and oversights, even as Tem’s leg got stuck in a few holes here and there and I worried on more than one occasion that we were going to get sucked into the floor.

I reached a fork in the tunnel, checked both ways and found nothing. In the back of my mind I was aware of the high chance that something in the game had gone wrong, my objective wouldn’t have spawned in and that this was all, yet again, a massive waste of time. I was intrigued by the adventure though, and tunnelled on, not giving into the quiet whispers of the earth and, keeping my wits about me as well as one can be expected in a dark, cramped environment, I journeyed deeper into the abyss.

To Be Continued in Chapter 3...