Breaking News: Investigation launched into an “escape the end of the universe” scheme. Ticket purchasers arrive to settle into their compartments to find only pins in their rooms.
Karen Whiner says, “Where I am expected to sleep? How am I supposed to dine? Surely they don’t expect me to hold a plate in my lap!”
Ben Stickler was reviewing the contract when he said, “I am calling my lawyer about this. We will see this guy in court.”
Joe Blow, meandering the hallway, garbled, “The bar. The bar…they have a drink (hic) that will cure what hever ails ya buddy. Call it the Pincushion. One sip and your trou (hic) bles are over.”
Percy Wiseass declared, “This is serious. Very serious. When this ship jumps to speeds fast enough to escape eternal destruction, those pins will become airborne daggers. This just will not do.”
Repeated calls to the ship owner have gone unanswered. We left messages at multiple locations. One of our reporters suspects the ship is being guided by an AI bot trained by players from an obscure video game called No Man’s Sky? Did I quote that right? We will continue to update you on this story.
In other news, the world’s largest bomb is reportedly under construction ….
BTW, in the event of universe cessation, a Pincushion One (or two) is highly advisable. It makes an excellent muscle relaxant for existential crises.
Similar in effects to Douglas Adams’ Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster, we can recommend various voluntary organisations to help you recover from the experience of drinking a Pincushion One.
Since HG have (mostly) sorted out the toothache from the single-player experience, and drawing a veil over the multiplayer nonsense (I was never much of a multiplayer fan anyway), I think I’m now in love with Corvettes.
They’re incredibly satisfying to build, and to fly, and to modify. They answer all sorts of problems and niggles that have been around since day one.
There’s something quite majestic about drifting down into atmsphere in something so impossibly huge. In real life, your bow wave would fracture continents. It’s fun.
I’m still not bored with this update. I find myself always experimenting and trying different designs and layouts. I’ve made 6 corvettes and this one is my favorite. I’m just a lone explorer so it’s not a multi-crew corvette. This is the front view.
This is the room next to the cockpit and I’ve gone with the Titan theme. This room has a refiner and mission board. I’ve added a flaming barrel and construction research unit for decoration.
This is the final room at the end of the ship. It’s where I sleep and I have one storage container. There is a navigation archive for decoration and a save point for functionality.
That’s possibly one of the most nicest ones I’ve seen. Really captures the sci fi ‘feel’ I’ve been struggling to apply to my own. I’m afraid I may have to steal some styling elements… as parts availability permit.
Just the cockpit completed so far, but it’s a start. Actually, it’s the second step. The skeleton of hab units, and all the functional components like engines and such is in place.
I find the brute force method will work on one side but when flipped and/or rotated, it doesn’t want to work on the other side. Changing placement order can help.
Nice little overpowered bounty-hunter style gunship. Took advantage of offset building to hide about half a dozen tech-parts in the belly and wings. Kept the procedural name, although I did re-roll a couple times for something that sounded interesting. Not entirely sure what it means, maybe something to do with the ancient wisdom of “he who smelt it…”
I just had to test this, as this used to once be possible on freighters, but got taken away quite some time ago. I was already imagining how much cooler it would even be to do from a Corvette.
Finally done with the expedition. The first one that I finished in a loooong time. Though the “narrative” was somewhat overpromised, I did have fun building my corvette in this one. It turned out a lot better looking than I expected, too. Not that it’s a work of art or anything, but it doesn’t look like the hopelessly uncreative blocky child of bare-bones functionality that I usually produce in games like this:
