ACADE ACTION CLOSE-UP
Little in life could ever be so predictable as the inevitable arrival of the Star Trek videogame. It was only a matter of time that the two forms met formally, shook hands, and put us all in Captain James T. Kirk's driver's seat. After all these years, it's both an honor and a challenge to be asked to fill those boots.
The CREEM Archive presents the magazine as originally created. Digital text has been scanned from its original print format and may contain formatting quirks and inconsistencies.
ACADE ACTION CLOSE-UP
Little in life could ever be so predictable as the inevitable arrival of the Star Trek videogame. It was only a matter of time that the two forms met formally, shook hands, and put us all in Captain James T. Kirk's driver's seat.
After all these years, it's both an honor and a challenge to be asked to fill those boots.
The big surprise is that none of the famous television characters appear on the screen of Sega's difficult and sophisticated game. No Kirk (We're supposed to be Kirk). No Scotty. No Uhura, or Sulu, or Dr. McCoy, or pointy-eared Mr. Spock. No dapper costumes. No "beam me up." Not even a Khan or a Tribble.
Star Trek is remarkably free of cute or multi-layered graphic composition; concentrated effort has been put into the design of game action itself, not in giving the player a visual show.
The U.S.S. Enterprise looks like a dime-sized dogtag floating in screen space, encountering Klingons of various colors and power. Once every sector, the screen is cleared to admit the deadly distributor of space mines, the Nomad. Mission: Destroy Nomad while avoiding Klingons and purple Anti-Matter Saucers.
Attempts to involve the player as the character stretch beyond the lack of any face on screen. The game is clearly designafed as a Strategic Operations Simulator, not a fantasy story enactment. The idea is that the player, as a would-be Kirk or Kirkian successor, must train himself in the fighting operation of the U.S.S. Enterprise.
Nothing so trivial as "points" are accumulated; the trainee earns -Strategy Training Units (STU's) for his victorious endeavors.
"Welcome aboard, Captain," Mr. Spock's electronically simulated voice welcomes us into every training session. At the drop of the quarter, the theme song also blares forth triumphantly.
The video screen is divided into three separate parts. The smallest rectangle, upper left, keeps inventory of the available shields, photons, warp time, and STU's accumulated (for one or two players). When all these weapons are depleted, the simulation is complete—the game ends.
Unlike most mere games, Star Trek captain trainees have only one ship to operate. When you lose the Enterprise, you hang up the controls. The series is canceled, so to speak.
Because shields automatically protect the Enterprise until they are depleted, some misunderstand the game and believe that two-person play is impossible. Not so. Play (excuse me, training) proceeds by sectors. When the Klingons or Nomad in one sector have been eliminated, training resumes for the second in command.
Sector 1.1 has three Klingons and one Starbase, each introduced in large scale before shrunk down to pinhead size for fighting. The battlefield in space takes place in the upper right third square of the screen, an overview of the Enterprise and everything around it. Most trainees observe this part of the screen during battle simulation, unlike Stargate and other multicontrol games in which the specific partial view gets the most attention.
The lower half of the screen provides a subjective viewpoint, looking out the Captain's window on the war. Distant stars pass by with every thrust of the ship. Klingons and Saucers come info disfanf view and loom large as fhey are approached. The Sfarbase, for docking, refueling, and repairs, welcomes the player aboard.
Although the graphics on the lower window screen are the best in the game, few can fight successfully by paying close attention to it. For one thing, you can't see what kinds of Klingons are readying to attack from the rear.
But learning to use the bottom screen for accurate aim, and to quickly dodge Klingon phaser fire, is a must. Double vision or acute peripheral ability comes in handy.
Sectors 1.2, 1 .3, 1 .4, 1 .5, and 1.6 increase the numbers and kinds of Klingons attacking the Enterprise and the Starbase docking stations. Sector 2.1 is the trainee's first encounter with the Nomad, a white speck which moves in a jagged fashion across space, leaving blue explosive flyspeck mines behind him. Shooting the Nomad without setting off a chain reaction of mines, which would in turn destroy the Enterprise if it fires from within close range, earns the trainee 30,000 STU's, and Sector 2.2 begins. Every new Sector is an encounter with a Nomad.
The player has four shields to begin. As Klingon fire scores against the Enterprise, the shields automatically engage until they are depleted. When all shields go, any hit incurs damage and getting to a Starbase is imperative. After shields go, then the powerful exploding photon bombs are depleted, and finally warp power is used up. When supplies are gone, the Enterprise dies.
Starbases increase in number with the Sectors, and docking adds to all supplies as well as allowing the Enterprise wounds to be patched. "Damage repaired, sir," Sulu's voice informs us. (Note: a representative from Sega swears the voice is Scotty, but it sounds like the wrong accent to me. I think it's Sulu talking.)
Docking may be a priority when supplies are sinking, but it might be advantageous to kill the Klingons and get through some Sectors without using the privi ledge. For every Starbase still standing unused at the completion of a Sector decimal, 1000 STU's times the number of the round are added to the score. Only 250 STU's times the number are added for used Starbases and no bonus is awarded when Red Klingons have totally destroyed it by repeated fire. In other words, every Starbase standing unused in Sector 1.3 (or round three) adds 3000 points to the score, versus 750 for three used Starbases. Sector 2.2 counts as round 8.
Depending upon how your Simulator is rigged, bonus shields, photons, and warp time are added every 10,000 to 40,000 STU's. Average machines offer them at 30,000.
Although the storage inventory part of the screen only shows up to 4 shields, a total of 255 can be won. If anyone out there manages to do this, however, he's probably a Venusian.
So, you may be asking, what's the difficulty? You shoot the Klingons and bomb the Nomads, right?
Wrong. The playing board for Star Trek involves at least two hands, four fingers, and the aforementioned dual vision to operate successfully. For the left hand, a smooth spinning knob controls the direction of the Enterprise. It takes several turns (or whizzed spins) of the knob to make the ship maneuver in a 360 degree motion. On the right, an index finger button controls thrust, a middle or third finger button operates phaser fire. A little lower near the thumb, a photon bomb button waits for orders, and in the middle up for grabs is the warp mechanism button, which jets the Enterprise at a speed only deadly White Klingons can begin to approach.
It takes more than one training session to get the feel of the instruments at your disposal. A practiced player runs his hands over the instrument panel like Liberace playing "Humoresque.'' It's a sight to see.
The first Sectors are slow enough to allow you some time at bat. Red Klingons tend to ignore the Enterprise and attack Starbases. They are easier to kill from the rear. Purple Klingons come after the ship, sometimes from the rear. The Enterprise can only fire in a forward direction, whether shooting phaser fire or aiming longer distance photon bombs out to massacre any particluar cluster of Klingons.
Purple Klingons turn white after too much time is spent in any one Sector. They roll around in space, attack suicidally toward the Enterprise, and are real nasty in groups. If one hits you, you lose two shields. They mean trouble, and unless you are facing them, they'll ram you mercilessly. The best defense is to warp to a safe distance, turn and fire a Photon, and without waiting for detonation, spin out and away.
Actually, that tactic is useful throughout the game. Warp is one of the most useful toois in the game for positioning the ship to good advantage, even though it's hard to reach at first and means removing your finger from the fire button. Get used to using Warp, and you'll last much longer.
During Nomad rounds, steer clear of the mines, looking for wider pastures in space. Timing isn't as important; sometimes waiting pays off. The mines tend to explode after a time because of the pressure of no oxygen in outer space. The chain reaction, if conveniently at a distance, gives more maneuvering time and lets you wait until the Nomad zigs your way for a clean shot at it. But, it's best to obliterate it as soon as possible. That's the mission, after all. No STU's are awarded for the destruction of mines.
The Anti-Matter Saucer is a purple diamond which appears at random, moving through space in a confusing manner. It takes a photon to destroy, but if it attaches to the Enterprise, it drains all the warp out of it. Smashing it with a well placed photon earns 5000 STU's.
Every Klingon, regardless of color, dies to earn you STU's, increasing by 25 per round. Most games start giving 100 STU's per Klingon in round one.
Because STU's don't mean more ships, only shields, many players prefer to concentrate on docking on the Starbases for the replenishment of shields. But earning as many STU's as possible also adds to the length of the game. It's up to you to decide when it may be better to dock or to hope a round ends with an unused, more valuable Starbase.
Dodging with ease of maneuverability is really the name of the game in video Star Trek. Once you've mastered the aim and avoid capabilities that the bottom screen gives you, you'll find the simulation exercise to be an invigorating experience.
Sega's even taken care to duplicate the sounds of the phasers, the photons, and the warp, so that your turn as Captain is as authentic as possible.
Welcome aboard, Captain. As thousands attest, StarTrekisa way of life, and Sega's video game is an extension of that phenomenon.
JOUST - Hither and yon, the Silver Swift and Ordinary Red Buzzard Riders boast the continuing dare to "flap up and sit on my head sometime," one of the most unusual propositions ever devised for a video game. We could go into further Freudian possibilities by exploring the way the Fire Troll reaches out and grabs close-buzzers by the tail feathers, but let's leave it lie. Probably the most fun in Joust is swooping up the green egg wave ovals, and the best way fo do that before they hatch is by starting at the top. Run over the highest levels and snarf them up, letting your ostrich topple over the edge for the middle layer of floating rocks, and finally skidding across the bottom. Better not to panic or overflap, just slide it down and out. Ever try playing both players singlehandedly? It goes fast, and is ultimately impossible, but some interesting moves emerge. Get thee to a nuthouse.
Q*BERT - Supreme Nosers know Q*bert is both mathematical and visionary, much more than a Rubik's cube that moves. Cut. Quick. Quirky. Quazy. Queer. Sine Qua Non. Quack. I have seen top Q*Bert players commit suicide (on screen) rather than let old Coily leap upon them in the bottom corners. Be careful not to trap yourself there; on the other hand, in the higher levels, suicide may be a shrewd move (OOOOoooooooh!) because it puts the leaping nostril back at the top of the pyramid. If there's where the wrong colors lie, you might want to end it all to get to the top without smearing up your tracks. And that cool green beatnik gets to be a pretty miserable monster after level four, as his happy-go-lucky stomping takes all your best efforts back to the drawing (or should we say coloring) board. Or am I being querulous? I quit.
JUNGLE HUNT —Is the King slipping from sight? Even without his noble yodel, the monotonous limitations of sliding, swimming, and the chomping on organic fruits can make any jungle paradise less than it's cracked up to be. Maybe the Untarzan really wants to give up his berries and pin in the cannibal feast but is too shy. I'm not one to wager, but if the swinger is still on the vine by next issue, I'll eat my coconut shell. Without his mating call or sexy loincloth, what's he doing in this country, anyway?
MOON PATROL -Those unprepared for the dizzying subjective viewing and driving experience of a Pole Position or Turbo might find the weightlessness and distanced side view control of Moon Patrol more down their alley. The music doesn't attack, challenge, or threaten, but dances ethnically along the lourney, past the Turkish temples and the cratered landscape. Even a bad driver with plenty of cash can get a chance to reach the championship level, since a fresh quarter starts another game at the travel point where the last game ended. Look out for those shadowing fighter ships following behind you: they suddenly attack from the rear and only a well-timed jump can avoid them.
TIME PILOT—The pilot on the preview boards of Time Pilot always wins! He eliminates all aggressors swarming around him, punches out the Mother Ships, and heads on to another dimension of time and space. For the player, it's not so easy. From 1940, where prop planes buzz through the clouds, to 1970's helicopter fleet, through the jet speed of 1983, and finally within the space ships and asteroids belts of 2001, Time Pilot employs a vertigo sensation of flying upside down in a boundless sky. Your up-to-date plane makes circular loops in the sky while firing white hot bullets at the era's strongest aggressors. Actually, it's an illusion. Your plane stays dead center on the screen while the joystick controls the clouds and enemies. The background is moving, not your own ship. Try not to think about it. The only thing Time Pilot needs is a bit more speed capability (or maybe a hyperspace/jet option in the future years), which would eliminate the sluggish feeling of claustrophobia in the atmosphere. No doubt that's in line for
FRONT LINE—A snare drum welcomes us to battle training simulation...for future Vietnams perhaps? If you can handle the heavy clickknob aiming and firing your soldier's raf-a-tat-tatting rifle, you may advance to General. The nationalities of the enemy might be generic Asiatic, or perhaps Latin American; they are deliberately indistinct. They're just the enemy. With grenades and tanks at your disposal, you can aim and fire while maneuvering your man through the bushes and around the foxholes. Like most recruitment office promises, fhe first board looks deceptively like a stroll down the Champs Elysees. Soon following are some heavier mazes: mine fields on pink sand, and foxholes with brick barriers. When you reach the enemy fort and find yourself cornered by the brick wall, hold out in your tank for as long as you can, shooting as many of the enemy as possible. When you lose the tank, jump, run, and bomb the fort until you see the white flag of surrender. The body count adds up on the score, and the game can be prolonged by holding out in this way. Remember, since Uncle Sam doesn't have to worry about the budget on this battle, you have unlimited grenades, which are harder to aim but save your skin quicker than mere
BABY PAC-MAN—Pacifier in mouth, bobbing in and out, yo-yo in hand, jerking up and down, the legimate kid usurps the oldster right off the throne. Amazing, isn't it, how the younger generation rudely bumps superstars Mr. and Ms. Pac-Man right off the list? The special genetic attributes of this offspring are that when you enter a tunnel on the tiny screen, the half-pint pinball game underneath begins to play. You've got to flipper in order to WIN energy dots onto the video board, they're not given away. Also, "you have won an extra baby" will flash on the screen if you play your balls right. Also during the pinball section: dancing fruits, a Pac-scalator, tunnel speed Pac information, etc. When you lose the ball, it's back to the maze. The ghosts aren't as easy to elude as they are in other Pac-Man games. What's next? Pac-Man Fetus?
SUPER PAC-MAN—The Super Smorgasboard has 16 courses to gobble up: apples, bananas, donuts, burgers, fried eggs, ears of corn, tennis shoes, pies, turnips, artichokes, tea cups, mushrooms, bells, four leaf clovers, candies on a stick, giftwrapped boxes, and back again to the apple by level 17. Now, most of those things can be eaten, but I can't really recommend the clover. And only die-hard Andy Warhol groupies still suck on tennies. If you get that far, you'll probably be holding on to your stomach, anyway. So what is the secret pattern, you may well ask? One seasoned player advances to level 21 by systematically running clock-wise around the edge of the board, starting at the lower right hand corner. He goes after the door opening keys first, and worries about energy dots, bonus stars, the dizzying Super Speed button, and, least of all, ghosts. Only after they appear in his laidback Super Cycle, gobbling at the speed of video light.