oxygen supply. A voice will warn you when
your O2 levels are low, but your paymasters
aren’t bothered about you dying; rather, it’s
that asphyxiation makes it less likely that
you’ll hit your salvage quota. Besides, cloning
you is expensive, and so you’ll only be saddling
your reconstituted self with a revival fee to pay
on top of everything else.
During your first few sessions you’ll
probably be tempted to play cautiously, then,
using the post-shift results screen to determine
the more lucrative parts before heading backand taking a different approach. Over time
you grow familiar with both the well-tuned
controls, and the layout of the ships you’re
asked to break into. We learn it’s unwise to get
too close to a junction box before tugging it
loose with one of our limited supply of
electromagnetic tethers, the electricity
interfering with our HUD and radio. We
mentally log the airlock routine, remembering
this time to activate the atmosphere regulator
as we enter the central part of the ship. And
yes, those seconds waiting for the airlocks
to cycle are a price worth paying given the
alternative. Slicing through the glass of
a pressurised cockpit isn’t, we discover, the
best idea, as something is immediately suckedout, thumping into our helmet’s visor at such
speed and force we’re unable to determine
what hit us. Later, we manage to get in the way
of a huge nanocarbon panel as a misplaced
tether drags it (and us) into the processor.Since your debt is so large that you can
only ever take tiny bites from it, at least in the
early game, taking chances to complete your
work within the allotted time doesn’t feel like
such a risk. Yet it’s arguably more satisfying
(and often more efficient) to use a scalpel
rather than the sledgehammer approach.
Targeting cut points with a spot laser and
watching huge panels suddenly come free is
disassembly at its most surgical. And while it’s
harder to be as precise with the Splitsaw’s hot,
scything beams, we’re reminded of Dead
Space’s plasma cutter, as we perform targeted
dismemberment of a very different kind.
Complete objectives beyond your shift quota
and you rank up, gaining access to higher-class
craft with more intricate designs – and bigger
rewards. You upgrade your kit, letting you cut
faster, tether heavier objects and stay out longer
without returning for more oxygen. Given the
cost of death and the learned knowledge you
apply on subsequent shifts, it begins to feel
almost like a Roguelike of sorts. Yet that would
suggest a tension that isn’t always present;
once you get good, this can be a calming, even
meditative experience. It’s exciting when
things are going badly, but Hardspace:
Shipbreaker is at its best when it offers the
simple satisfaction of a job well done. QThe Lynx
effect
Hardspace: Shipbreaker
imagines a future
where humanity has
industrialised the solar
system – even while
floating in zero gravity,
we’re under capitalism’s
boot. To sign up as
a shipbreaker you first
need to complete
a checklist confirming
you’ve never been part
of a union, and agree
to vote for a particular
candidate in the Pan-
American Senate
Election. Narrative
elements are fairly
light-touch after that,
but even after your
first few orientation
sessions you get
reminders of the kind
of world you live in,
not least with your
employer, Lynx
Corporation,
registering its
displeasure at any
mistakes. And in the
craft you’re taking
apart you’ll find stories
about the wider world,
from audio logs to
documents, and even
a jingle for corporate-
branded gear.The pressure’s off in Free
Play mode, since you don’t
have to constantly watch
the clock or worry about
resources. It’s a good way
to get some practice in
Given the cost of death, it
begins to feel almost like
a Roguelike of sorts