As someone who spends a not insignificant part of their life playing games, I often mention it as a hobby when getting to know someone, though I announce it hesitantly. This is because I always find the inevitable follow-up question awkward to answer. “Oh, so what have you been playing lately?”. I tend to alternate between being unable to even name one, or rattling off a few that fail to elicit a drop of recognition. I’m sure that in a hobby this deep and wide it must be a universal experience.
Worse still is when I’m asked to explain a particular title on the spot. I don’t exactly have the knack for describing the allure of what I enjoy. My succinct attempt to describe a recent infatuation of mine, Shape Shop’s Mars First Logistics, went as follows:
“You design and drive delivery trucks on mars”
Not untruthful. Nor interesting. I waffled on for a while after, but you get the point. I’d like to try again here, to do justice to this martian love affair of mine and hopefully to arouse some interest in yourself too.
Ode to the red planet
Mars is, in a word, vast. A colossal desert wrapping a sphere, dotted sparsely with half-built habitats and hopeful astronauts. Jagged cliffsides, icy ravines, and desolate plains all stand in defiance of man’s futile attempt to conquer it. There is a beauty to this lethal wasteland, despite its sharp edges. The sun sets and paints the sky to match the hopeless settlers’ own blues.
What do you get for the astronaut who has everything?
This is where you come in. Mars is an expanse much too wide and perilous for squishy humans to cross. You’re tasked with designing an unmanned rover, with whatever parts the company can afford, to complete a single specific task. What missions could be assigned to such a ground-breaking piece of technology as this space-age vehicle?
Well, the southern laboratory is in desperate need of a paint can for their upcoming renovations, but no mere mortal could survive thirty kilometres of this harsh terrain to deliver it! Not to mention the woeful soul at the ill-conceived cliffside resort who needs a two metre tall sprinkled donut to make the entirely vertical journey to its consumer.
These strange assignments are one of Mars First Logistics strongest assets. The items themselves are often silly and seemingly pointless. What does a researcher need with a giant novelty beach ball? Who requested a small crate of six apples for the other side of the planet?.
Inane or not, once you successfully complete your arduous journey, the world kicks into action as construction completes on yet another structure in this previously barren wasteland. An observatory is erected, a robot factory assembled, even a fast food restaurant with possibly the worst potential foot traffic in the universe.
I find it very humanising to think that the only thing holding back a site’s completion is the boredom or hunger of a lonely spaceman. It helps to convey this idea that your role in this world is needed but not lofty. You are the postal service. You’re not fancy or exciting, but the world stops turning without you.
A lot of this game’s unique feel comes from the distinct challenges that each new freight presents you with. There’s plenty which you’d expect. A cumbersome hay bale requiring an ungainly design, a dense anvil which necessitates some serious torque to lift, or a toolbox of loose wrenches which all need to be delivered together, yet no one thought to put a padlock on the latch.
But there’s many more novelties I never would have been able to predict. A giant magnet which fastens itself to your vehicle but ruins your centre of mass and makes driving a nightmare. A modern art sculpture which has no readily apparent points to grip it from. My personal hell was an item marked (from poor memory) “blob”. At the pickup destination awaited me a green puddle, which rejected my scooping endeavours. I resorted to essentially punting it across the planet with a giant boot with mild success.
Again and again you receive a task which is so unlike the ones prior to it that you’ll be constantly tweaking your favourite designs. Complacency and stagnation becomes impossible. But no one’s complaining, with a drawing board this nice there’s no distaste in going back to it.
Hand me that drainpipe, I’m going to space!
The part builder here is surprisingly intricate, and offers a lot that I often see missing in similar titles. Features like advanced part rotations, the ability to paint individual blocks, and even being able to switch between different player-assigned control schemes while driving.
The system is deceptively simple, allowing you to discover and deal with its quirks at your own pace. For example, the first servo you acquire is cylindrical, it attaches at one end, and spins at the other. It may sound unnoteworthy, but the lack of a connection point on the side of this cylinder led to a lot of my designs involving an awkward series of pipes and 45° turns.
Rather than being frustrating, it instead feels like another puzzle that needs to be considered when designing your makeshift masterpiece. There is a library in which you can save your designs and later recall them, often functioning as a quick recipe book for me, though mine looked equal parts like a grand prix pamphlet and a PVC pipe enthusiast magazine.
Machine parts make up one of the more interesting economies in this world. Parts are unlocked by completing missions, earning you a small cash reward and whatever else was promised. Frequently I would be collecting unexciting building blocks such as the Panel 5×2, or 30° Connector. But my interest was always piqued upon spotting a named piece in the potential rewards. Auxiliary Thruster. Gimbal. Antenna.
Half the time I wasn’t even sure what they would do, but they always became my priority. After unlocking a part, you receive a single complimentary instance of it. Any further copies need to be purchased with the money which you earn from deliveries, with a price relevant to the complexity and usefulness of the piece.
The standard connector hub for example is a pittance barely worth mentioning, where a full set of all-terrain wheels is a savings goal. Slowly an addiction overtakes you. You feel a compulsion to run one more delivery just so you can afford spares of your newest exciting part, while inadvertently discovering an even more enticing component.
You’re listening to MFL Radio, don’t touch that dial
Speaking of financially ruinous activities, while your unmanned machine is out lugging packages, it can only go as far as the signal range sent out from radio towers. Handily, building these towers is a power which you command, and they can be placed wherever you wish. You can simply pick a direction and dot your trail with new towers while you explore… until your wallet runs dry. This is because unfortunately someone has to pay for the construction, and that someone happens to be you. Your power, your payment.
This leads to an interesting push and pull when you’re perusing the available missions and realise that a valuable quest is outside of your currently available range. How much are you willing to spend to try and make more?
Plan first, fail at execution later
The most crucial part of preparing for your deliveries is always the planning, with you often performing the roles of both logistical engineer and geographic surveyor. Routes should be scouted in advance and marked on your beautiful topographical map, with attention given to the nastier inclines or stone-spired fields along your path.
There’s a thick tension on the trail while watching cargo wobble and drag behind you, in trying to manipulate your centre of mass to better your odds at surmounting a hill. Far too many of my own deliveries were self-sabotaged by trying to navigate a supposed shortcut through a gorge I lovingly nicknamed Pothole City.
At first I adored this sluggish methodical pace, white knuckles on the controls and a light sweat on my brow. It reminded me of the film Sorceror. Usually this tension would turn sour when held too long, yet it was never an issue here. This was due to the drip feed of new parts, which at times could be simply game-breakng (in the best kind of way). Struggling up a steep incline can be a difficult and engaging task, but nothing beats the catharsis of soaring past these old challenges on shiny new thrusters.
Plan all you want, but when you’ve got a loose claw grip on a restless sandworm being dragged through a jagged ravine, you’ll become more like a monkey with a screwdriver than a scientist. There’s a time for planning, and there’s a time for wild and arbitrary rocket thrusting and servo jiggling.
Trust me, and discover the rest for yourself
There’s honestly so much more I could say, I’ve not even mentioned the multiplayer aspects, or the gorgeous art style and thumping soundtrack which make this space-trucker experience one of the best. But looking back on these paragraphs I’m a touch embarrassed by how many words I’ve already spewed. It’s for the best, as my favourite games have always been those which continually surprise and entertain. Like shield-surfing in the newest Zelda games, some features aren’t necessarily worth discussion but are damn good to discover on your own.
I hope that I’ve managed to convince some of you to give Mars First Logistics a go, it’s got so much more to explore, and I’m yet to find a more satisfying engineering experience.
Trying something new
Hi, beeem here! I’ve been thinking for a while that I would love to have some lil snappy plate for you guys to look at that might better sum up the recommendation aspect of what you just read. I’m still getting the hang of exactly what I want to express to you in the section above, but I think generally I want to describe the fun of a game to you, while also giving you something enjoyable to read.
Everything I talk about on this site is a recommendation, especially these larger singular posts. That puts forward a conundrum for me, if everything I talk about is implicitly a recommendation, how do I express the games that feel more special to me than others? So to answer that, I’ve come up with this card. What sort of person would enjoy it? How much does it relate to my particular tastes? What feeling does it aim for? What is the caveat that I haven’t mentioned in the above article? I hope that answers to these will help specify who in particular it is for.
Thanks as always for reading, I hope Mars First Logistics has caught your interest today. If it does, I would love if you were to send me a picture of your weirdest contraption! Or better yet, help me finally assess the multiplayer aspects of this gorgeous game. Peace.
Who’s it for?
Engineering enthusiasts who don’t want a degree, Space truckers who enjoy relaxing manual labour
Is it for beeem?
A match made in heaven. Like assembling IKEA to a techno soundtrack, this tickles me the right way.
What feeling does it evoke?
You manage to feel clever despite incredibly stupid plans, “There’s no way this works”, followed by “Hah, I told you it’d work”
What’s the caveat?
Building structures felt limited to monorails and radio towers for too long, and not being able to design them was a missed opportunity.
New parts that make traversal quicker or more interesting are great, but components that supersede previous ones often added more power but took away complexity.
BEEEMEM'S HIVE 
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