In which Future Gamer address the dynamics of interbeing and monological imperatives in Conflict: Freespace 2; how it can be construed as gaming art; that art is theft; and that what those who write academia-tinged standfirsts in an inspiration-free panic really need is a liberal application of a stick with nails in.
James Price

Conflict: Freespace 2, like its predecessor, is a heady mixture of admirable aesthetic accomplishment and solid, spacebourne combat. With enormously simplified yet dynamic, convincingly apt flight mechanics, its incredible visuals lend additional credence to what is, without doubt, an interstellar shoot 'em up par excellence. There's a scene right at the end of Blade Runner where Rutger Hauer's character, acknowledging his imminent death, relates cryptic, almost lyrical soundbites that allude to fantastical sights and experiences. Freespace 2 is those moments, given the gift of polygon flesh.

If you think the conclusion of the previous paragraph was little more than over-wordy crap that could, at best, be described as irrelevant, go watch the film. Then, and only then, play Conflict: Freespace 2. Can you see what we mean now? Exactly. Its forebear was typified by enormous capitol ships, some of which took literally minutes to fly by at top speed. Its explosions were lavish, with blast waves rumbling past your attack craft, and debris drifting off into the void. It had a pretty good plot, too.

Freespace 2 has all these attributes, but they're bigger and more spectacular. Some of the ships in this are absolutely huge. You find yourself spinning down towards them, desperately trying to shake a bandit off your six. You let off a stream of laser fire and, just as you bank away from an imminent collision, you note the tiny, desultory pockmarks you inflicted upon your larger foe. Few games offer a comparable sense of scale. Freespace 2's storyline is, in many respects, just as important as its actions sequences. It's not a script of Emmy-winning calibre, but it is markedly more immersive than the standard videogame fare. The mysterious aggressors of Freespace - the Shivans - are reintroduced, but in a manner that almost reproduces the desperate, do-or-die atmosphere that made the last episode so enjoyable. Thankfully, it rarely slips into the all-too-predictable trap of sci-fi cliches and wearying, cringe-inducing interpersonal pap.