Sid Meier's Pirates!

 Wii, Sid Meier's Pirates! (2010) game

The original on the Amiga somehow passed me by - I didn't like strategy games at first, your 'Settlers,' 'X-Com' or 'Dune II,' but after spending enough time with them I came to love these games as favourites of the machine (and in gaming generally), but for some reason, maybe a suspicion of too much disk-swapping, perhaps a perceived lack of variety, it could have been I didn't have my own copy, I don't know, I never actually played 'Pirates!' and as a result it both retained some vague draw, of the exotic and unknown category, and a seed of interest that eventually grew into getting a copy for the Wii thinking it would be a far more advanced version. As it turned out I was to be rather disappointed, and I'm sure they were going for a strong nostalgia factor for those who'd loved the original back in the 90s (or was it late-80s?), because this was almost an exact copy in gameplay terms. There is the obvious addition of motion sensitive gameplay (though this is few and far between, limited to the dancing and fighting minigames, most of the game controlled from the D-pad), and a fairly pointless collectable accoutrements section that allows you to dress your pirate up in all manner of clothing like a Ken doll (which may have been part of the original anyway), but it's pretty pointless other than for the joy of customisation and putting your mark on your character. In every other respect it's the same gameplay. Though I never played it I somehow gained the knowledge of what the game entailed, and also heard firsthand in the now from one who had played it, but even if I knew nothing about this version, it's archaic systems and rigid gameplay would have tipped me off that it hadn't moved on in the two decades since!

The graphics are far more detailed, 3D and lushly colourful, and I will say that playing it in a heatwave with a fan blowing at me and my wooden door creaking in the background of air pressure gave me an almost 4D-enhanced experience of sailing the high seas at times, but overwhelmingly my impression was one of trudging through thick mud to get to something shiny, then turning round and doing it all again. Over and over again. It may be that this was a realistic depiction of piratical life: slow, tiresome, punctuated by occasional moments of excitement, delight and success, but it really did feel as if I was at sea on long voyages the way travel was so laborious. It could be painfully slow, especially when you're going against the wind (yes, I know all about tacking), inching forward while days are passing in-game and your character is literally ageing in the meantime! And then whenever you do reach port half the time was spent waiting for loading screens to the extent I didn't know which was slower: the sailing or being a landlubber! It didn't help, nor put me in the best frame of the mind that the Wii booklet was so slim and uninformative, telling you to download the full manual online. Fine, but when I did download the manual for the Wii version it was the same as the paper copy! Admittedly much time has passed and there were other versions I could have used, but it put me off trying to search out the proper manual and consequently I had to work things out for myself.

All well and good, sometimes it's ideal to approach a game that way, and the loading screens were at least full of helpful hints for the gameplay. At the same time there were key points it took me a long while to work out, and one or two I never did (such as how to attack a port - I assume you have to be at war with that nation, presumably by attacking enough of their ships...), and I felt on the whole there was no reason to have made the game anything other than a series of menu screens (and the fact that every different screen is accompanied by loading times didn't inspire confidence), everything else was mere bonus trappings - if we're talking Amiga games one aspect made me think of a specific genre of that era in style and relevance: the Don Bluth titles, specifically 'Dragon's Lair' and 'Space Ace' which were amazingly like being in a cartoon at the time, but could only achieve such heretofore unattainable graphical prowess at the expense of actual gameplay where it was merely a case of timing button presses to advance, a memory and reaction game, basically. The duelling brought this to mind very strongly since it's all about timing and the fancy graphics (not all that fancy now), were mere window dressing. I couldn't get a handle on them at first (nor the dancing), yet another game affected detrimentally by Wii controls not precise enough for purpose, so you're left uncertain if it's your own timing at fault or the sensors themselves (then there's the issue of 'A' being so close to the D-pad it's easy to roll down onto it and select an option by mistake). As time drew on and I was able to collect items that improved my skill in such areas and gradually made my way up the ranks of each country, the game opened up and I started to enjoy it instead of bumbling around. For a time I even considered it a 3-star game, though even then I'd have felt generous awarding it that. As it turned out, one last sting in the tail dropped the experience back down to my initial impressions.

There was certainly plenty to do, searching for lost cities, romancing governor's daughters, collecting, trading, ship battles, hunting for your kidnapped relatives, tracking down treasure and dealing with the pirates that put it there... And once I understood the landscape of this 'World' map and where to go for this or that, it's quite satisfying ticking things off lists, achievements being a modern addition I assume, that at least gives you more reason to keep playing, but eventually pales as you find yourself having to run the length of the ocean to catch up with your nemesis (or nemeses' since there's more than one!). But it was in the final battle against Montalban, the man who stole away your childhood by taking your family, my negative impression was sealed. The 'story' such as it was, at first appeared to be something more than I was expecting, and I assumed this wouldn't have been part of the original game and would be a far more developed part of the experience than it turned out to be - it was in the original and there isn't really any story other than giving you more of an impetus to explore and goals to aim for. But back to that final sword fight: to get to it you have to blast his secret city base, an on-rails 'light gun' shooting section, fun the first few times, but when it takes a couple of minutes to get through and at the end of it Montalban chops you to pieces in a few hits then it's one of those most ancient gaming headaches of the kind found in so many platform games and the like which is more trial than challenge.

It took me hours of repetitive, trying attempts, and I seemed to make no progress: I might get a strike in on him, only for the favour to be returned immediately, and defence moves seemed no avail as he'd simply recover faster. I actually did feel like I was starting to get RSI from the repetition of the two sequences, aiming and shooting my ship's cannons, then sword-fighting, and I got to the stage where I contemplated the shame of potentially having to give it up - perhaps at 88 my man, Robeye The Worthy, was simply too old for the necessary reaction speed, but there was no way I was going to start at the beginning again to find out! I tried various tactics, each sword (the attacking one, the defending one, the one in the middle), then I started bringing in another remote in to play as the second player - it enables a parrot to fly in and attack if you make a successful hit, giving a slight advantage, though repeatedly mashing buttons with one hand while at the same time trying to have a sword fight with the other, was certainly a challenge of dexterity! After days of attempts I somehow got the right timing and won the fight, but it was a major low point of the game that sealed my opinion. It's not that it was a terrible game, and once you understand the values of the few goods you trade, reach the top rank with free repair work on your fleet of ships, get a fleet of ships, tick off the tasks, it could be quite fun - I even pulled some late shifts, even an all-nighter at one point so I was clearly sucked into the world, but there were just too many irritations, tasks that took too long, and a growing sense of simply repeating the same few tasks over and over.

I grant that there is something enjoyable about being able to play a game one-handed (it didn't use the Nunchuk attachment so you could have a cup of tea or a sandwich in one hand, while controlling your ship with the other!), and I once ate a meal while playing, something I don't think I could say about any other game. But the motion controls didn't add much to the experience and once again I think of annoyances: the fact that if you leave a port it pushes you fast out into the sea, and if there's a reef, or rocks in the way you'll run right over them causing all kinds of damage! It's realistic in that food is used up over time and your crew grow restless and eventually mutinous if you don't do enough plundering, yet at the same time the other ships in your fleet will follow you blindly, running over rocks instead of steering their ships sensibly. I'm sure the greatest difficulty in a pirate Captain's life would have been dealing with people, a commodity with their own mind and short tempers, so it adds some internal threat to your plans that the crew need to be kept, if not happy, then merely miserable instead of mutinously angry! Early on I found it so hard to recruit new crew and they seemed to mutiny so often or get killed in battle that it was very demoralising, though once I got the hang of hopping into a port with the hope the bad apples would desert and the ship would go back to normal operations, or I was successful enough with countries I could recruit more easily, it became a much better experience.

It was a very gradual, if addictive game, which had the feeling of climbing a hill to get somewhere or make money, but when you get near the top it became much more enjoyable. But once you've beaten all the pirates, have a solid fleet and have taken on the majority of the tasks there isn't much reason to keep playing, though you can. One other flaw was it was almost impossible to actually lose the game, maybe a concession to 'modern' gamers? If you lose your ship you're picked up by someone else, if you're marooned on a desert island someone will come along and make you their Captain. The graphics reminded me of 'Age of Empires III,' colourful, bright, detailed, but it also reminds you there are much better resource management games you could be playing so it's hard to justify starting again (though I applaud the idea that everything you need to collect is reset in a new game so you can replay without feeling you know where everything is). The bottom line is that it's very old-fashioned, and not in a good way, it didn't succeed in updating the format to give you a greater sense of control and options - 'mouse'-controlled strategy games could be ideal for the console, as shown by how great 'Star Trek Conquest' was, but Sid's 'Pirates!' didn't cut it, me hearties.

**

Natural Law (2)

 DVD, Voyager S7 (Natural Law) (2)

The final scene between Chakotay and Seven in the Cargo Bay is really like any final scene from the series: the two people who've just gone through an experience together reflect on it in some way, mutual understanding results. But it's the only mildest hint in the episode of the direction the pair were heading in, and that's probably the most surprising thing about the episode when you know how they end up at the conclusion of the series. You could say the shared experience, coupled with Seven's already seen interest in the Commander (to the audience), in 'Human Error,' as out of the blue as it was, is what jogged things along after this, but I was somehow heartened to see there was some kind of development rather than the impression of instant change in their affiliation that I tend to think of. That said, this is hardly the most important outcome of the episode, nor is it played up at all, it's most definitely a subtle alteration. The big issue is that of the treatment of primitive natives, and strangely it's left far too late to give it any really strong examination. I often think of this as one of the weaker instalments of the season, and the season as one of the weaker of the series, perhaps because there's very little development for the characters or addition to the lore when they should have been going out big, bringing back recurring characters, showing the community that was missing on screen (slightly mitigated by Carey popping up in the previous episode and the Bolian Chell getting a reference here), and increasing the connection with home that would become so crucial at the very end.

Instead, this could just as easily be a Season 1 story: a couple of characters trapped on an alien world with something of the Prime Directive issues at play, while the B-story features Tom Paris having to learn diplomacy when he makes a minor traffic violation in alien space and is forced to go through a pilot training scheme. As amusing as it is (and his friends clearly have a whale of a time ribbing him about it in one of the few scenes showing multiple characters on Voyager), it doesn't really have much bite to it, Paris is hardly going to become Mr. Humble, so the story doesn't go anywhere other than giving us the enjoyment and/or dismay of seeing him failing to navigate this crusty old test instructor. It's thrilling when he's called back to reality when Janeway orders him to beam out the 'invading' Ledosians from the Ventu safe haven, and pulls off some piloting excellence to do it, but it also undermines the lesson of his story, which would be that to comply with their own values Starfleet sometimes has to be humble and accept the rules imposed by alien cultures - instead, once it becomes inconvenient Paris is off the hook and can go back to boy racer in the cause of the greater good! Satisfying, but not entirely in keeping with the Starfleet ethos on display. At the same time the Ledosians didn't exactly give them much choice, turning hostile and attacking, so their rules were no longer the issue when they're behaving in a warlike manner.

The episode was far too much taken up with the minor adventures of Chakotay, and especially Seven, on the planet's surface - not in the sense that this wasn't of interest, but if you're going to introduce a strong moral component into the story, waiting for the last few minutes doesn't allow for much latitude of exploration! I enjoyed the pair of them together, it's a setup we didn't often see, and as the series wound down it makes you long for more of that kind of thing that they should have been doing throughout the series, but suffered when the series 'opened up' and tended more toward bigger action stories rather than the more intimate two or three character situations of the early seasons. In those days you needed such situations to explore these new characters and get to know them, but I don't feel they've been explored as much as they should have been across the entire series. Therefore it's a difficult quandary, as I want these kinds of stories, yet this one doesn't really go anywhere and so appears insubstantial as a result, being neither an in-depth character piece where we learn new things about our people, nor a serious social commentary, and suffers in both cases.

The real meat was the idea of an alien race forcing a segregation between a more advanced culture that was fighting a more primitive one. We never learn who these aliens were, though not advanced enough to defy the Borg as it's suggested they may have been assimilated (which is the reason Seven knows how she might deal with the unique forcefield preventing all entry and exit into Ventu territory), and it recalled a sci-fi book I once read about a tribal culture, Mayans or Inca, something like that, who were preserved on an asteroid. It's a fascinating idea, the preservation of a culture, but at the same time it throws up questions of whether it's right to 'protect' something at the expense of the people within it - for example, it may be that these Ventu were expert healers, but what of things they couldn't heal? If no one 'interfered' and helped them to develop in education and knowledge, they could die out. I suppose that would be considered acceptable as 'the natural order,' but while knowledge can (and often does), bring more trouble, even destruction, we have to remember that we're seeing this idea from within our own culture so we're no better to judge than the aliens who performed the segregation. I suppose Starfleet's general idea is to avoid getting involved because they could just as easily mess things up and make their lives worse, as better, and if they make it to warp level then fair enough (again, even that point of view is flawed when you realise warp travel isn't the final development that makes humans perfect, it's just an arbitrary cutoff point for convenience!).

Clearly in this case the Ledosians, while they gave the impression that they'd learned from the past and regretted what they'd done (and I'm sure it wasn't all one-sided, even then - no culture is immune from 'human' nature, after all), it was really only because they couldn't get into the territory and as soon as they have the slightest inkling of a chance they charge in and plan on carving it up or whatever, no doubt lucrative minerals, oil, or whatever resources are of value to them, could be in abundance, and even if it's unknown, the potential is there! So we see that high ideals don't necessarily last longer than the forceful implementation of them, which is maybe a more truthful moral of the story than the slightly vague idea of non-interference. But again, why leave it so late to approach the topic - there was even the obvious parallel of Chakotay's own culture's history on Earth. They could have tied in the Sky Spirits and how this alien species affected his ancestors, or at the very least shown his consideration of the parallels, but the closest we get to that is Janeway's oblique reference to Earth having it's own, similar problems. I will say that if there were two people most suited to being stranded with, it would be Chakotay and Seven. On his side, he's always been remarkably patient and adaptable to such situations - I think of 'Basics' or 'Resolutions.' Maybe he's too quick to accept the new reality, but it also shows he'll happily keep living, content wherever he is. Seven is the opposite, on her side intent on using every technological solution possible to extricate them from their prison, but slow to accept the natives.

Together then, they made an excellent team and I enjoyed their simple interactions. Perhaps drama was missing, ire and two different points of view contesting with each other, as in O'Brien and Bashir when they were trapped in 'Hippocratic Oath,' but it made for a gentler experience. I'm not quite sure how Chakotay sustained his serious leg injury unless part of the shuttle hit him just as they beamed away, but we didn't see that, he's just suddenly injured. I'm not sure it would have made all that much difference if he'd been in perfect health, except it adds a little more danger to Seven's position when she's forced to search for shuttle parts alone, in turn learning to depend on her young native friend, and of course they might never have come into contact with these natives in the first place. After a night out in the wilds Seven gradually becomes more and more dishevelled, eventually looking like her future self from 'Picard' - fortunately she doesn't talk or act like that unpleasant future version! It was actually quite nice to see them using one of the shuttlecraft since the Delta Flyer was so often the craft of choice in these latter seasons (but of course they had other plans for that and needed to shatter this vessel, too). You might think the natives being impressed by Chakotay's facial tattoo was surprising and wouldn't make much difference, but you have to remember it's a new symbol to them, and in such a simple culture would be a major dramatic difference in their lives.

Both Chakotay and Paris seemed to hark back to the early days, with the latter presenting a bit of a maverick attitude in the face of all these rules and regulations, while when the Impulse engines go offline above the planet, Chakotay orders Seven to go to warp, when surely you can't do that in a planetary atmosphere, so it seemed a bit of a Maquis course of action. But it was a good Starfleet trick to punch through the barrier with Phasers in order to beam through the hole as the shuttle exploded! They must have saved a packet on the actors as the Ventu never speak which presumably means they only get paid as extras despite having that interesting gestural language (although a couple of them were given titles). It means they can have a few other speaking guest stars, I suppose, including one of my favourite names: Ivar Brogger (he'd also appeared before as one of the former Borg drones in 'Unity'). Neil Vipond was also good as Tom's instructor, Kleg - he'd previously played Darok, the old manservant of Martok in 'Once More Unto The Breach,' a very memorable performance, so it's nice to see he had another Trek role in him. Ultimately the episode isn't bad, it has nice sets or location work (so good it was difficult to distinguish), but is almost a placeholder story, a slot that could have made better use of the impending closure of the series.

**

Friendship One (2)

 DVD, Voyager S7 (Friendship One) (2)

The ideal mix of a moral quandary, a tense situation, and character and general history provide a standout for Voyager's first official assignment in seven years. And it doesn't get any easier knowing they're doing this on behalf of Starfleet rather than their own survival. Of course the Carey in the room is bringing back an established recurring character only to kill him off so unceremoniously! It underlined the danger of the situation with this unstable alien leader who may or may not have been mentally affected by radiation, but who was most certainly emotionally affected by his and his people's situation to the point of complete distrust and expectation of betrayal. I was surprised to see Carey was only in a handful of Season 1 episodes (most famously having B'Elanna break his nose in almost an actual physical vying for the post of Chief Engineer - at least that didn't happen in his final appearance, though I'm sure he'd have wished he could have gotten off so lightly), then showed up once in each season from 5 to now 7. He was a casualty of the series' attempt to be different to 'DS9' when, in fact, dealing with regular faces on an ongoing basis would have made the most sense and provided a much stronger ship-wide community and continuity (I wonder if anyone's actually gone through the whole series and counted off every Starfleet extra and named crewman to see whether they were accurate in their supposed 200-odd crew roster!). They did that a fair amount in the first couple of seasons, but gradually got away from it, perhaps too much of a headache to juggle so many characters when they really wanted to make more sci-fi-focused stories than character-based.

Yet they weren't above bringing back an old face once in a while, which only makes it odder that they weren't willing to build up the crew community. But I'll take it, if that's the only way we get someone like Carey back. I'm not sure if we knew he was married, nor is it clear from this episode if his wife was aboard, except that there'd have to be a scene where Janeway goes to tell her what's happened to her husband, so unless that's yet another example of not showing the community, it would be confirmation that as far as she'd been concerned for several years she'd lost Joe when Voyager was sucked into the Delta Quadrant. Painful that it's just now, near the end (even though the characters don't know it's the end, but they've reached some kind of end with regular contact with Starfleet), now is when Carey is lost. It wasn't even a great last role for him, he's just there, along for the ride. It could have been any of the engineering staff, but it's a little gift for longterm viewers to be rewarded, if a bit of a double-edged reward! Even the final scene, presumably in Carey's Quarters where he'd been working on a model Voyager in a bottle (would you really need to work on it inside the bottle in the age of Transporters - authenticity, I suppose, although didn't they usually have masts that folded down and would spring back up when the ship was pushed down the neck!), isn't so much about Carey as it is the Captain and Chakotay musing on the trouble caused, whether to a civilisation or an individual.

Still, I appreciated the sense of continuity and harking back to the series' past, and Carey was far from being the only example of that: the whole premise is about a probe that was launched in 2067, only four years after Zefram Cochrane's first warp flight which itself was an example of technology bringing about a new era of improvement to living conditions and first contact with the Vulcans, so you can completely understand the desire to reach out to other species as the Vulcans did to them, a spirit of eager cooperation and hopefulness that sadly backfired in the case of this particular race. It might be a little hard to believe that this probe would have survived in space for so long, and apparently they were still tracking it up till one hundred and thirty years ago, which would be the early part of the 23rd Century. And somehow they were tracking it in the Delta Quadrant when they wouldn't have been able to 'see' that far out, nor would they have coordinates since there'd be no frame of reference beyond known space, and if it had got that far, how would it be in the same area over a century later... As you can see there are a lot of problems with the entire premise, and yet that doesn't bother me when it's written so beautifully and is such a sharp reminder of Prime Directive issues, while also showing the goodness and rightness of our heroes. They continue to do right by these people despite the cold reception, hostility, even coldblooded murder - when they attempt to set the atmosphere right, even at this critical moment they're threatened with the unused missiles of this world, the leader happy to blast them out of the sky rather than trust what they're doing is for his people's good.

At the same time I can see his point of view: if you've lived with a terrible, devastating affliction that you believe was caused by outsiders, it would take a lot to get past that hate and distrust - even curing the baby and sending it back could be viewed as a trick to lure them into complacency so they can be completely destroyed. The key was that although Verin had kept them alive for so long, survival was no longer enough - he was like a wartime leader in a time when peace had come, in much the same way Winston Churchill so ably led the country in the crisis of World War II, yet after the war was ousted. Everything and everyone has their time and it's about recognising that, a fascinating side issue of the episode. Janeway, too, is really put through it, characteristically more than willing to help, despite the overt enmity of those she's dealing with, until their response of killing Carey hardens her towards them. It takes an impassioned plea from Tom and Neelix, as former eyes on the ground, to give these people one last chance - and they were there and saw Carey executed in front of their eyes. But they also saw the pain in the eyes of their captors, the squalid, hopeless existence they were forced to endure. As the Doctor and Seven (once again donating nanoprobes from her own bloodstream), gradually heal Otrin, the stowaway from the Flyer and we see his face lose the horrible mottled bumps of the radiation poisoning (reminding me of the Vidiians in its visual repulsiveness), so the rift between the two peoples is also healed, Tom and Neelix both trying to connect to their captors in different ways.

For Neelix it was a harsh reminder of his own traumatic past, recalling the destruction of his home planet by the Metreon Cascade, but of course Verin, while expressing a cold regret that he had to lose his family, still doesn't sympathise or empathise and warns him not to compare their lives. It's so good to be reminded of Neelix' past, not to mention him taking on his self-appointed role of Ambassador again. His roles have so often been whatever was needed at the time, he's always striven to fit in to whatever mould Voyager needed, but he's also learned a lot and his compassion always shines through so it was a pleasure to see that side of him again. Tom as Nurse is also something that tended to fall by the wayside for much of the series, so again, its good to get that aspect of his character again as he does what he can to save the alien baby - really good model of one, too! In fact, everything worked: the sets, whether the familiar caves or the snowstorm-whipped outdoors (somehow reminding me of the Skedar planet from 'Perfect Dark' - must have been all that black metal and snow!), the CGI enhancements, even the use of those great EVA suits, all gave the episode a quality and a reality that shows how far Trek's production values had come (and would only continue with the next series).

The best thing about it, though, was the decision to repay evil with good, a very Biblical response to what are essentially enemies - the crew had no real responsibility to these people, even as representatives of Starfleet: as they mentioned, the probe was launched pre-Starfleet (which I take retroactively as a nice reference to 'Enterprise' - I know that wasn't the intention, I doubt the episode's writers, Michael Taylor and Bryan Fuller, even knew what the next series would be, even though it would have been in development at that time!), and humans can't be held responsible for the actions of their ancestors, no matter what terrible things they may have done. I grant that it's expected these aliens would suspect and distrust the descendants of those they blame for devastating their planet, but it wasn't their fault and they had no obligations to them other than their own sense of fairness and justice. That Janeway does the good deed at risk to her own ship only shows the strong moral core of her character and the Starfleet she represents (far from the one depicted, for the most part, in modern Trek). Even before Carey's senseless murder she's clear that she wants to keep all options open as a good Captain would (there's even a tidy comparison by the Admiral at the beginning to James Kirk when he says she's made more first contacts than anyone since him, another nice little Trekference to add to the canvas of this episode's use of canon), negotiating, warning, and eventually making use of her great Tactical Officer, Mr. Tuvok, in a clever ruse to gain access to the caves - I thought it was out of character for the Vulcan to so easily be captured, but he was only 'caught' by the Doctor, as someone who could withstand the radiation. Clever! Except that there was no guarantee the Doctor would be the one sent to take him back, nor that he wasn't asked for some kind of code to gain entrance past the guards...

Once again intelligence is valued over force and only makes our characters more inspiring. Mind you, it was much-needed tactics or they'd have had three years of ferrying these aliens to the closest M-class planet, which would take us to Season 10 (aha, a way to extend the series!), though I don't imagine it would have necessarily made the best TV to have three seasons of that... I felt there were some other good messages in the episode, too, with B'Elanna adamant she wasn't going to be treated like an invalid during her pregnancy, while Tom brought her up short, reminding her of the toxic atmosphere down on the planet and that she's breathing for two. In other words her responsibility to herself and their child inside come first above any feelings of pride and the need to feel useful. And who knows, maybe she'd have been the one to be killed if she'd gone instead of Carey, a stark potential reality to think of. (There's an impression B'Elanna's changed by the fact Chakotay bets with Neelix that she'll get her way, obviously the Torres he knew, a nice touch to show Motherhood does alter perceptions and behaviour). Unfortunately Paris lets things down a bit by later saying something about Fatherhood tends to regress the male psyche by a few thousand years, but he meant well and really only meant they become over-protective.

There was also a little reminder that science, for all its uses (much like logic), shouldn't be the be-all and end-all when Otrin states he's a scientist so he believes what he sees when they're trying to convince him they aren't responsible for what happened to his world, nor was it the intention of their ancestors - and they're right. It may have been unwise to send out this information on antimatter, but it was still up to the aliens how they used it. It also shows that knowledge in itself isn't always empowering, sometimes it can be destructive, and wisdom is required. Saying that, I thought it a bit reckless for the Away Team to pick up the child's musical toy when it could just as easily have been a bomb or grenade (I know they scanned it with their Tricorders, but even so, you never know if something's shielded, as was the case with the life-signs), not to mention they later give it to the little girl, and as Verin said, it could be a weapon! There was also the implication from the aliens who originally encountered Friendship One that they didn't know what music was since they seemed not to understand what it was that was playing. If that was the case then how could they have any technology at all since they'd need to have mastered mathematics which in turn is extremely connected to music! It could simply be they were referring to the musical piece itself, or the general idea of this probe, but it stood out to me.

We have some interesting Trek names in the guest cast, for example a rare connection to one of the modern Trek films (can we still call them modern when it's a decade since the last one?), as Yun was played by Ashley Edner who had a role in 'Star Trek Beyond' (Natalia, whoever she was). I presume Yun was the little girl. We also have a previous guest star back from this series: Admiral Hendricks (whom I didn't think much of while watching, a bit too 'soft,' but I enjoy the connection now I know it), was played by Peter Dennis who'd had a more visible role as Sir Isaac Newton in 'Death Wish.' Then there were a couple of people who'd been in 'DS9,' with John Prosky as scientist Otrin, previously Brathaw in 'For The Cause' (don't recall the character - interestingly his episode was only two episodes away from 'The Quickening,' another episode about a race blighted by illness that our people get involved with fixing), and Bari Hochwald who played Bashir's rival, Dr. Elizabeth Lense in 'Explorers' (Brin must have been the alien woman who gave birth, not that you'd recognise Bari under all that ugly makeup - always remembered the actress' name as quite memorable!), and would go on to appear in 'Enterprise' ('Marauders'), while John Rosenfeld, here credited as 'Technician #1' (must have been the male scientist who discovers the probe at the start), would also go to 'Enterprise' ('Silent Enemy'), so a nice selection of Trek connections that only enhance my enjoyment of what is a pretty strong and affecting story all round that helps to round out the series' history and gives a taste of what the series may have been with the conventional Starfleet hierarchy in place.

***

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild

Switch, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild (2017) game

Like most games in the 'Zelda' series come review time, it's difficult to know where to start, even more so for this entry since it's the first truly revolutionary game since arguably 'Ocarina of Time,' the first one in 3D. And yet I do feel conflicted about the fact it is at the same time one of the greatest, yet also very different to the traditions of one of the greatest Nintendo dynasties ever made, nor does it come without its issues and problems. It is undeniable in my eyes that this is a great game - it's a new way to play and has so many breaks with those traditions that it could have been unrecognisable, and yet it also stays very true in many ways. A game series has to develop in new directions or it would remain too similar to past experiences, especially when those who love a series have played so many iterations of it, and that creates the danger that you'll merely be redoing the same game or story with updated graphics, something innovator Nintendo is loathe to do, although they've become a lot less stringent over the years. Most of the 3D 'Zelda' titles have aped 'Ocarina' to a great degree, unsurprising since that was such an incredible new direction for the series, bringing its style and adventure into a more realistic approach and displaying a scale that was unprecedented at the time when 3D games were only just becoming the norm, from the tiniest bugs scurrying in the dust, to great mountains you could scale and a world map that truly felt like a world. And yet there were still limitations...

'Breath of The Wild' casts off almost all limitations, that's the first thing you come to realise: from the expertly choreographed first view of the world outside the cave in which you awake, approaching the cave mouth to see the distant image of a volcano rising out of the horizon across a vast landscape stretching away, to the moment you glide off the Plateau into lands unknown with practically all the main abilities thrust upon you, it's an awe-inspiring cornucopia of options staggering in its breadth. For the first time in a game, certainly a fully-3D, immersive environment where you're down at ground level, I felt the true call of adventure and complete freedom to tackle the world as I saw fit. It really is staggering - you have this immense world, so big that it stretches into the distant beyond and you can go in any direction, do whatever you like. The natural rules of progression so ingrained in 'Zelda' where you have a little training, earn your sword and shield, complete a simple first dungeon, are rewarded with another item of some kind and then have a tempered freedom, let out into the wider world to find out where you're meant to head next, are cast aside in favour of giving you all the skills in the training area and then pushing you off a cliff, literally! There's still an advised direction to go, but do you head right off for the stable past the Duelling Peaks, keeping strictly to the paths that are the equivalent of roads in this world, or do you indulge your curiosity and begin to edge out a little, do a little exploring in one direction or another: the choice is yours.

As is traditional with the series you only start with three hearts so you're very weak. This is compounded by the rags of clothing you wear which have next to no defensive value at all, so you soon find your first encounter with monsters in the big, wide world teaches you a healthy sense of respect that would have been almost unheard of in past 'Zelda,' especially for a veteran of the series who instantly recognises the majority of creatures, knows how to defeat them and has no difficulty in doing so. Enemy AI is one of the major overhauls here: they no longer simply rush at you when you come within their sphere of detection, but seemingly have lives of their own, whether it's Moblins chasing after some of the local wildlife, or sleeping round their campfire leaving their weapons open for the cautious thief to pilfer, they are proper denizens of this world that turns a mere mowing through an area as it used to be, into a truly tactical battle, especially in the early part of the game when you have so little health or strength. Even one of these little Bokoblins can be a worthy opponent to your low-level state and that, compounded with the vast freedom and scale of the lands, gives you a much stronger sense of threat and reward than a simple monster fight has any right to! Then we come to the next in a line of discomfiting or strange new ways that litter this game: breakable weapons.

I don't think that's strange on its own, I believe as far back as 'Wind Waker' you could pick up enemy weapons, though I don't recall whether they broke up after use, you just couldn't store them in your inventory. Here, you can pick up just about anything lying around, be it a tree branch, a ladle, pitchfork, broom, or, more sensibly, actual weapons of war! They cause different levels of damage and naturally the better equipment is more hard to find than the average bat or mallet. But there's nothing to stop you from getting some of the best weaponry in the game early on if you're willing to sneak about and explore - nothing except your own extreme puniness. It can be quite irritating early on to find that something you've discovered, whether it was stuck in the ground or hidden in a treasure chest, will only last so long before it shatters, it really takes some getting used to after the old ways of gaining a great sword from the start and occasional other weaponry that marks the notches of progress. It's a real culture shock to find you don't get to keep what you pick up in that regard, be it hand weapons, shields or bows. And to begin with you're hampered by having few storage slots for these things so you're constantly worried about running out of fighting tools at the wrong moment. Eventually you come to see the world is stashed full of weaponry and you don't have to look far for one if you need it, plus you're never without some form of attack as even if you break everything in your armoury you have an inexhaustible supply of Ancient bombs at your disposal in both round and square varieties.

Even the shape of these two explosives is relevant and becomes key to dealing with certain puzzles or situations - at first you're restricted by the time it takes for your bomb stash to reset until you can chuck another, but this delay and level of power is one of many things that can be upgraded so there remain the shadows of 'Zeldas' past and that age-old upgrade path, it's just less of a focus than it used to be, nor is it essential. For example, you could, if wished, head straight to Hyrule Castle, without explanation or learning anything, and make it all the way to the final confrontation with Ganon. It would be punishingly difficult and painstaking to get through the grounds and past all the high-powered enemies surrounding the area, and you wouldn't be a jot of use if you did reach him, either, but the fact you could do that if you chose is another example of the astonishing structure of this new way to play 'Zelda.' You could also do the complete opposite and 'live' in that world, merely enjoying the thrill of exploration and almost boundless lands that are open to you. This true sense of adventure is the greatest I've ever felt in a game: a level of complete freedom insofar as you can survive, there are no physical barriers to progression, indeed there isn't a great deal of progression itself, that 'impediment' to freedom has been removed in favour of an open world mentality that is unparalleled in its freedoms.

 At the same time, removing a strong sense of progression is one of the negative marks against it. It's not that it's a bad decision, just a very different mindset, and while it's incredible to be able to simply exist in this fully realised world, bursting with delights, puzzles, flora and fauna of all description, there is something to be said for the satisfaction of seeing somewhere or something you can't yet reach and then earning the right to it, moving the story along. In that sense it's about as far from 'Zeldas' past as can be and I would say is one of the weakest elements, if it can be called weak when in reality it's simply a stylistic choice - would it have been fine for Nintendo to release yet another entry that apes 'Ocarina' with a few new items, maybe the odd new race, and shinier graphics? Yes, but they chose to be daring with one of their most important game series' and I strongly applaud their desire to innovate instead of sitting on past laurels. Open worlds aren't a new thing - perhaps the oldest fully-3D example I played was 'Spider-Man 2' on GameCube in which you had the entirety of New York as your playground, modelled from the ground up to the tallest skyscrapers, and within which you could take on any petty crime or challenge in any order whenever you wanted, or simply enjoy swinging and climbing, being Spider-Man. But the technical limitations of the machine meant as strong a concept as it was, it would become repetitive sooner or later and as in 'BOTW' the story could be progressed any time of choosing which had the disadvantage of making it less integral to the experience as a whole.

The same issue exists here where the narrative drive is severely lessened, relying mostly on little modular sections where you take on a mission to defeat and free a mechanical monstrosity in the form of a giant animal in the four corners of the land. There are forgotten memories to be recovered, of a century ago from whence you came, slumbering in peaceful ignorance until you awake at the start of the game. The sense of being tied to a time period many years before isn't as strong because of this lack of reliance on story to carry the game, you’re very much in the now, unlike the dual time periods of ‘Ocarina,’ so while it has the flavour of 'Zelda' it doesn't have the strength and power story gives. But it's not something to complain about when you're having so much fun simply roaming the land, I just noticed the absence of a strong driving narrative. Also, because the world is so huge, the little bits of story that do exist are largely lost in the overwhelming scale. It's as if they created the environment first and populated it with all kinds of creatures and tasks, then added a story afterwards. But there's always going to be some kind of criticism of a 'Zelda' game simply because they're so accomplished in sound, vision and immersion that any inconsistency will stand out and no game can be perfect. The previous title, 'Skyward Sword' on Wii, garnered much criticism for being shorter than expected, and having too little land mass as you flew from island to island in the sky - again, they were attempting to do something different and it was less successful (in terms of engagement, I don't know about financially), but with 'BOTW' you can tell they listened to the complaints and acted accordingly. In this case it’s less of a story, more of a living, breathing, immersive world.

You couldn't get a much vaster environment to explore, nor a more grounded, physical experience. I suspect you could probably fit every other game in the series within the land mass of this Hyrule, which is to say how truly huge the place is, impressively humongous. It would take literally hours to circumnavigate the entire world, travelling at the very edge and in terms of game hours there's never been a longer 'Zelda.' Simultaneously the biggest in the series, yet also the most bite-sized with 100+ mini dungeons rather than eight full-size ones. I wish it kept track of game time because I'd love to know how long I spent there: it took a good four months to reach a point where I felt I was ready to effectively end it by defeating Ganon, even though, as in past 'Zeldas' you can always go back and finish collecting the collectables. It was meant to be my Christmas game, though 'SSX3' overran through the festive period so I didn't give my full attention to this at first, which is an irony considering I could have started this on day one of my holiday, played it all day, every day, and it still would have lasted for many weeks after. As it was, I spent more time on this than any other pursuit in the months after, racking up many hours a week because it was simply so much fun to explore and there was so much to uncover and achieve. And yet, while being the vastest example of the series by some magnitude, it's also one of the most accessible since there is so little structure it’s easy to pop back in for a few minutes just to explore one little copse or climb this hill, do that mini dungeon, take on this enemy camp... Or you can settle in for the long haul and spend hours in one sitting.

There’s so much to do it can be overwhelming: you're given side quests by the inhabitants of populated areas which you can then tackle when convenient, they're added to a list you can peruse from your options screen, and typically for Nintendo, things are expertly laid out. Never before has it been so easy to keep track of so much: inventory, map, quests, even a compendium of things you've snapped with your Smartph... sorry, Ancient tablet. At first that's yet another overwhelming aspect of the whole experience and appears needlessly complicated: game, herbs, minerals, insects... it's all too much, gone are simpler times when all you needed to pick up were rupees, hearts and ammo. Now you have a whole subset of options with which to make potions and meals. Just the act of cooking often requires fire which you can make from striking a flint with a metal object... Then there's the temperature of your environment, the sound level you're making (that icon foxed me to begin with - it looked like a heart monitor!). Never before has a 'Zelda' game had such a level of complexity and it does take a mentality shift. Nintendo have come up trumps with presentation and key to everything is the world map (or maps now, since the environment is so massive you have to unlock each lengthy swathe separately!), with the great boon of being able to set markers and symbols to denote various things or simply highlight a location you want to visit way off in the distance: maybe you’ve spotted the smoke of a fire, the light of a mini dungeon's entrance, a place of habitation, ruins, who knows until you get there!

Then there's the greatest part of the game which is a true game-changer and which I haven't even mentioned yet: the simple ability to climb just about any surface. It's almost ridiculous to mention it, you wouldn't think rock-climbing would ever be likely to become an integral part of the 'Zelda' experience, yet it is. Right from the moment I first walked out of the cave and found myself sticking to the trunk of a tree or the wall of the cliff and discovered I could climb it was a huge revelation: in the past all you could ascend were vines or certain fences, put there for the intrepid to discover and explore, but now to be able to clamber any surface... It's truly liberating in the implications: 'Zelda' was all about preventing you from reaching certain areas until later on when you'd earned the right, you could come back and exercise this newfound freedom, but this game gives you that right off the bat which means an entirely new way of doing and being came into existence that's hard to grasp. It's not simply the size and scope of the land, it's how you can interact with it that changes everything and is the single greatest part of the game in my eyes. Sensibly, there have to be some restrictions, completely unbridled freedom isn't necessarily as enjoyable as when you want something but can't have it. In this case you're held back by your stamina meter which allows you a limited amount of energy to run or climb and when depleted will mean you drop like a stone or can barely walk. It's a good system because it cleverly allows you so much latitude while also (early on), meaning you have to be cunning and plan out what you want to do and where to climb.

 The other impediment is the weather itself which plays a significant part in this world - the rain is the killer and one of the most frustrating things of all because as soon as it starts pattering down you know you'll barely get your own height up before sliding back down. You can see what the weather's going to be for the next few minutes, but I still found it incredibly annoying to have my exploration curtailed by a change in the weather. But it does add to the realism, whether that be snowstorms in the wintry mountains or the oncoming lightning storm where your metallic weapons act like lightning rods. Wooden items can burst into flame if you're in a hot place so even the marshalling of your inventory becomes a tactical exercise, impressively. Back to the climbing: the only limit to this skill are the apparently ultra smooth surfaces of Ancient architecture that don't allow any grip whatsoever, but this niggle is essential to the puzzles encountered in the mini dungeons. What is less acceptable is that when you do end up at the far reaches of the continent, as they say, your way is sometimes barred by an invisible wall and a message that you can't go any further. This was a bit of a clanger as Nintendo are usually so good at ensuring a sense of fairness in their created worlds and this seemed like a technical issue where they couldn't come up with a better solution so simply slapped down an artificial barrier. Some areas are bordered by sheer drops into the void which somehow seems more acceptable and I can understand they needed to have some way of ending the land and don't know what solution would have been best, but it is a bit of a cop-out, more creativity needed.

It is only one little annoyance or discordant note in proceedings, but it's surprisingly not the only one. There are, shock horror, little technical issues that crop up: the worst is slow-down where you're fighting some of the larger enemies such as big Moblins, the game stuttering and juddering occasionally, a real surprise in a first-party title from such a perfectionist company using such a powerful console, if understandable considering what they were able to pull off with it. There's also noticeable pop-up of creatures and items as you get closer. Neither of these really affect enjoyment, but they did stand out as rare examples of problems within such an incredible achievement. Something else very surprising, not so much an issue as another choice that goes against every 'Zelda' ever: there isn't a single proper dungeon! It's almost inconceivable that you don't get a big, brain-busting puzzle and skills challenge, a standard component of the series, but again, can you simply do another forest-themed dungeon, or fire, or water, or whatever? It's the same issue the platform genre suffered from: you can't just keep churning out the same environments and yet it's tough to come up with a new theme that's as enjoyable to play as the well-worn natural ones. So they didn't bother and instead you have tens and tens of mini dungeons (they call Shrines), that either dot the landscape, are hidden away, or can be activated by doing certain things. It's yet another aspect that takes some adjustment to your mindset.

The closest we get to a traditional dungeon are the mechanical beasts that were once protectors of Hyrule but were turned by Ganon's evil machinations. Even these aren't anywhere near the size of proper dungeons of old, though they have those same kind of large environmental puzzles and a boss fight at the end, followed by an additional heart container as reward. No, the closest we get is Hyrule Castle itself, a maze-like collection of rooms and corridors on multiple levels, full of monsters to fight and Ganon waiting at the top. There are treasure chests, but no more maps and compasses to collect, no more finding the essential object of the dungeon, and the boss battles I found rather easy. Even Ganon himself was shockingly easy to defeat as long as you had plenty of food to replenish hearts with, I beat him on my first or second attempt. Weirdly, the actual 'low level' combats with single or groups of monsters in the game world were tougher, specifically the Lynels, half-zebra, half-lion beasts with hulking weaponry which took many attempts to defeat, by far the toughest thing in the game to take on. This only adds to the impression that the world itself was the main focus and the story and it's Big Bad were almost an afterthought, which is another very strange direction for the series. You could almost view it in two ways, as a 'Zelda' game and as a generic adventure game. It has all the lore and traditional trappings the series always had, yet it's almost more of a platformer in the sense that the joy of movement and physical freedom, and collecting, too, is paramount compared to story and character and I do wonder how much replay value it will have, especially with sequel ‘Tears of The Kingdom’ taking place in the same game world.

Yet another weird aspect that stands out compared with previous 'Zelda' is the addition of the Ancient technology, a way of justifying and incorporating something more akin to sci-fi than fantasy. There's no reason why not and it certainly means you can do all kinds of things that would have been out of place before, at the same time it is strange for Link to be carrying around what amounts to an iPad, to face robot machines, yet also allows for a new aesthetic to proceedings. I wouldn't even say it's out of place, it's just very... different. Still, so much is the same or an enhancement of the same you can't be too put out. While it would have been more involving to have a new generation Water Temple that fries the brain, dealing with one or two mini-puzzles is fine. It's an odd juxtaposition to have such a gargantuan and complex world and yet the dungeoneering side of things be so relatively simplistic, but I suppose you can't have everything. It's also unsettling that you're not able to swim underwater (I was anticipating this being the special gift I’d earn defeating the Zora beast rather than a useful, if relatively disappointing, temporary heart recovery and extension upon death), and so frustrating you instantly drown if you fall into water when your stamina meter is empty, but you have to have some restrictions or there'd be no threat. Another missing piece is that there are no caves as 'Zelda' veterans know them: you might have a cleft in a rock or a small enclave hidden by breakable boulders, but there aren't any true underground sections where you venture down into the earth. Perhaps this was another stylistic choice (I know the sequel features the addition of an elaborate underground system), and they preferred players to be above ground taking in the sights and sounds of this living place.

It's hard to describe the sensation of having so much opportunity to interact. For example, ever since 'Ocarina' with its few straggled trees I imagined what it would be like to have actual forests of 3D trees rather than walled areas with texture-mapped faux-trees. 'Majora's Mask' took it a bit further, but only with this game do we have proper forests, woods and copses, trees, bushes, leaves, plants. A real environment you can use to your advantage: climb a tree and you might find a bird's nest with eggs to take, climb the tallest and you can perch at the top and take the time to look around, search the horizon, find your way. For many trees you can swing an axe and chop it down, scattering any bounty to the ground. Use a sword and you'll blunt it, but choose the right tool for the job and it'll last longer, there's a real sense of... sense. Smash the resultant fallen trunk and you'll get bundles of wood with which you can start a fire. A fire allows you to skip to a different time of day which will change the environment or the weather or who's about. It all has its purpose. You can see the giant's shoulders upon which this game is standing, such as the day-night system pioneered in 'Ocarina' or the cycle of daily life the denizens of the world live out as in 'Majora' - every good 'Zelda' has elements from past iterations and this is no different except it's not reliant of standing on those shoulders any more, it's charting its own unique path.

You can ride a horse, not only that, you can 'store' up to five of them at the stables ready to be recalled from any stable visited, which is useful, although I found my preferred method of travel was on foot since you could root out everything that way and there wasn't so much you could do from the back of a horse. I wanted to traverse the landscape in any direction I chose, so horses, as lovely as it was to hark back to the old days, in this case even naming them, were a little redundant and I mostly stuck to myself since you can quickly warp to any activated dungeon or map tower. This also highlights another very unique aspect of the game: a true sense of being out in a wild landscape, isolated from everything. You can stand on the brow of a hill watching the sunset, bathing the horizon in a golden glow. You can perch serenely on a clifftop and see the sparkling ocean stretch away into the distance as clouds roll over, and the sun or moon crosses the sky. You can hear the wind whistling through the trees or over barren hills giving you goosebumps as you just stop and listen in lonely, far-off places, a genuinely haunting and beautiful experience at times. This is why there isn't much actual music in the game. Music was one of the weaker parts, I'm used to strong themes for each area, but most of the time you are out in the wilds and unless you're riding a horse, you mostly hear natural sounds. This has the advantage of drawing you in even further, absorbing you into the environment, but it's also yet another aspect requiring adjustment from 'Zelda' preconceptions.

Even the title screen is devoid of that triumphal 'Zelda' theme and atmospheric intro sequence, which is a big omission as first impression. As is the lack of an instruction booklet, so often an anticipatory preamble to play, and an essential part of the buildup. There's not even a death counter to keep track of how many times you died. So many of these standard traditions are missing that it does take you out of it, at least at first, but you have a new learning to take on: what 'Zelda' can be. Those old games still exist and you can go back to them, but this is a different experience. My own path was unique as everyone's will be, that's the beauty of the game being so open. For me, once I'd completed the Plateau tasks I did follow the prescribed route up until I got to Kakariko Village, then I broke off and ended up heading round the coast for endless days discovering how to play the game, how I could play it, not needing to follow a specific direction, just relishing the exploration and immersion, never knowing what you’d find over the next hill. Eventually you realise it’s time to do something more constructive and maybe take on the odd side quest which soon mount up the more people you talk to. For me, things didn’t get going properly until I tackled a map tower and realised the ugly black world map with its blue lines wasn’t the finished article: reaching the top of these towers and activating them filled in your map of that area and that became my main impetus for some time giving me a clear focus to unlock every region of the map.

It wasn’t until I finally tackled my first mechanical beast, the Rito’s bird machine, that I really felt I was progressing, winning both my first heart container, increasing my meagre health by a third, along with the extremely useful ability to launch into the air on a column of thermal current which was a great boon for climbing. The reason it took so long for me to get a fourth heart was the fact you had to pray to idols in order to increase hearts or stamina which felt like a line I wasn’t comfortable crossing. It could be asked why I would be okay with killing in games, but not the seemingly innocuous exercise of prayer, but killing in a game isn’t like real life, no one dies, but in real life people do pray to idols which aren’t real, so you’re effectively doing the same in-game. I’m sure it doesn’t really matter all that much in the grand scheme of things, and there’s always been elements of the supernatural and magic in the series since these are a staple of the fantasy genre, so you’d always had witches and wizards, generally cartoonish versions of such, or the story of Hyrule’s creation by goddesses, but it turned a corner with ‘Skyward Sword’ where they had a demon living under the main town who’s really just a nice guy which I was also unhappy with, and this game took it the next step where it’s something you’re actually doing yourself, so my real issue is where it leads to - will they eventually have real occult practices involved? I would hope not, but Nintendo’s jealously guarded family image has been diluted in recent decades as they’ve sought wider appeal so I hope this isn’t a sign of the direction of travel, yet I can’t help but feel it is.

I didn’t take a definite stance on the practice of praying to these idols at first, in fact I wasn’t even sure that was how hearts and stamina were enhanced, though I guessed early on since that was the only thing I’d avoided. It did concern me to think this could be the first ‘Zelda’ I’d be denied from completing due to content, but I was enjoying the pleasure of exploration so much that even this didn’t deter me from getting as much as I could from the experience and though it made life tougher this in no way detracted from the experience - if anything it enhanced it for the caution needed to protect myself, increasing my involvement and investment in the game. And there were temporary fixes that could be applied through cooking which enabled more hearts or stamina, so I wasn’t completely devoid of assistance. The other hope came from one of the hints that popped up during the loading screen which told of a being known as the Granter of Boons who lived in the ‘far reaches of the continent’ and traded in just the heart containers and stamina vessels I needed, so I was always on the lookout for this guy, as you can imagine, assuming this meant the Hebra mountainous region as this was as far as you could go. But just the addition of that first new heart gave me a surprising boost having survived for so long on so little - it really did inject new heart! From there I gradually traversed all regions, gaining new clothing and items as I went.

The clothing side of the game was essential, while at first I’d assumed it was more of an aesthetic choice to give players more personal style in their attire (for example, you could go to a dye shop to change the colour), a bit like the tunics in ‘Ocarina,’ but they turned out to be more like the masks of ‘Majora’ which gave you new abilities. By far the most useful to me was the climbing gear, and towards the end of the game when I’d tracked down all three parts of the set which gave a boost to stamina I was given a new level of freedom, springing up sheer rock-faces like a monkey. The barbarian outfit was also useful for its enhanced attack in battle, and there were various other items of clothing or bonus wear that were fun to collect, but had less impact such as the monster masks which allowed you to waltz right by whatever type of monster’s face you were wearing. The glow-in-the-dark suit would have been useful for tackling one of the game’s little missions stumbled upon in my travels: an island of complete darkness in which you need to use fire to light your way (alas I found the glow suit after I’d already done this section!). These mini-adventures were among the best parts of the game, my favourite being the island where all your items are temporarily stripped away from you on alighting and you’re forced to survive like Robinson Crusoe, making do with anything you can scavenge. The time you’re supposed to scale the pinnacle of a hill in order to see a white bird is another memorable moment - I spent quite some time up there before I realised it wasn’t one of actual birds flying around that I was looking for, but a shape in the landscape…

And what about all that hunting? It adds a whole other level to your survival that you need to hunt animals for their meat and becomes like a mini-game in itself as you learn to creep up, improve your aim and accuracy, or try other tricks like swooping down from above, truly making you feel like an apex predator (until you meet a Lynel, of course… though I think the grizzly bear you stumble upon in some woods is quite a shock, too). Some animals will fight back when surprised which throws in a level of realism that impresses, and it’s the animal life that truly helps it feel like a real world. Not all creatures are conventional - sometimes you’ll find something downright weird, such as the blupees, glowing blue rabbity creatures that drop rupees whenever they’re shot (I couldn’t help thinking of Father Bloopy from ‘Maid Marian & Her Merry Men’ even though Prince John didn’t have much in common with a creature that gives money away…), or the Lord of The Mountain, a glowing blue horse that with enough stamina you can mount and tame, though you sadly can’t keep it as one of your horses - same with the Stalhorses that only come out at night. These are all freebies, you don’t buy them, but the money system is more in evidence despite the lack of rupees under every bush: most side quests or tasks earn you these rather than in the old days when it was all about heart pieces or special equipment. With seemingly no limit to how much you can earn (I hit 50,000 towards the end!), and easy money to be made by selling what you forage does mean there’s less care needed about how much you’ve got in the kitty, even if some items are expensive to buy. You guessed it: takes getting used to.

 It’s not all perfection, however. Along with the issues already highlighted I found, of all things, the controls had their difficulties. The revolutionary auto-jump pioneered in ‘Ocarina’ is gone (another element that makes it feel much more in the platform genre than ever before), and not since the Game Boy games do I recall having a jump button (Roc’s Feather). I miss rolling into trees to knock things out of them, an example of the physical and environmental developments of the past. There could be real irritation at times, such as in those moments you’re forced to flee from the great Hinox cyclops beasts that will chase after you and bat entire trees away as they come - it’s easy to run into a tree or wall in confusion and you’ll automatically grip it and start to climb. Not helpful. On occasion I’d be trying to escape a monster and in the confusion accidentally press down the analogue stick which makes you crouch and waddle slowly along at the most inopportune moment. Worst of all, it wasn’t possible to use both an inverted view for the third-person camera and standard for your first-person bow view, you had to stick with one or the other whether in third-person or first unless you changed options every time you wanted to fire an arrow, which was criminal. I had to learn to make do with the inverted bow view moving left to turn right and vice versa because I prefer a third-person camera view be inverted as if I’m turning it around Link. It made shooting more of a challenge… I grant that part of it is getting used to a different controller (this being only the second Switch game I’d played), but I was using the Pro Controller, not the Mini-Cons which are really far too small for anyone other than a child! I’m not used to feeling clumsy, extra-specially in a Nintendo game, usually another source of perfection for them, so it was most disconcerting, and there are a lot of controls to remember (too many times I took a screenshot when trying to view the map), not to mention frequently having to jump into the inventory to eat something, select a weapon or change clothing (something that can happen a lot depending on where you are - in the desert you must switch between warm clothes at night and cool ones for the daytime), but you do get used to such constant chopping and changing eventually. Another adjustment.

 Like any game, once you’re bedded in and understand its mechanics the experience takes off, and those of this game are continually, satisfyingly compelling: unlocking the map, which in turn gives you a better grasp of the landscape and locations, searching out the Korok seeds with which you increase your weapons, bow and shield stashes, solving the mini dungeons, including the optional secondary puzzles of how to get to the treasure chests, and hoovering up all manner of flora and fauna, equipment and clothing, you’re constantly barraged with things to do to the extent you almost don’t know where to turn, and that’s what gives it an addictive quality that stands apart from previous iterations. In a way it’s hard to know when to bring it to a close. For me I did all the side quests and Shrine quests except for the ones that required the Master Sword, the key weapon that would have been a great asset as the only unbreakable weapon in the game (as far as I’m aware - it’s such a huge world there must be many secrets I never even got close to), but which required more hearts than I could garner from defeating mechanical beasts in order to pull it from the stone. Indeed, if I had found myself barred from completing the game due to my stance towards the goddess statues I’d definitely have marked it down a point despite its undeniable qualities as a gaming revolution. As it was, I never could find the Granter of Boons despite a painstaking search all along the boundary cliff edges dropping down into abysses, from East to West, suspecting a cave might be hidden just over the edge, but to no avail and I had to take the chance of facing Ganon without the mythical blade - it turned out to be a fairly comfortable end, so I will give it full marks, for all its problems are by far outweighed with delights and great satisfaction, one of the most absorbing, rewarding and detailed adventures I’ve had in a long while. Yes, Zelda is overly precocious and emotional compared with the regal character we know from past titles, but I suppose she is a teenager… And I did have the nagging impression the game overstays its welcome eventually once you’ve got the measure of it, to the extent I felt almost overly generous in my rating. But ultimately I could imagine going back to find a few more Korok seeds (I finished with 472 and 113 dungeons), or simply to run around in that world since playing almost became a way of life. But I think I’ll leave it a while before I tackle ‘Tears of The Kingdom’…

*****

Author, Author (2)

 DVD, Voyager S7 (Author, Author) (2)

A fun dance across genres, this was one of the last Doctor-centric stories of the series, so it's fitting that it has both comedic and dramatic elements worthy of such a standout character. They were realising at this point the end was nigh and there were certain plot threads to do with this disparate crew's personal circumstances on an individual level that pointed to the ramifications of their eventual destination at journey's end: some, such as the Maquis were no longer going to be an issue or Starfleet would have brought it up in their occasional communications with Voyager, but others had more pressing issues: the Doctor was merely an advanced hologram Starfleet's eyes, Seven's only connection to Earth was a lost childhood, and Neelix wasn't even from that region of space, and to a lesser or greater extent all these are explored here. It's always been difficult not to look at the series in the light of how 'DS9' finished out its run with a huge ten-part story to wrap up the many plots and arcs, and while some parts of that were questionable or didn't quite work (Dukat/Winn, Ezri/Worf, for examples), on the whole it did justice to what was the most complex and satisfying Trek series ever made. With 'Voyager' they tended to react to the shadow of 'DS9' by trying to do the opposite, and while I'm not going to get into the series finale here, it's nice to see they didn't entirely drop the ball on the story-lode of potential, even if perhaps they were introducing solid developments a little too late to be able to capitalise on them.

The major change for Trek's universe is quite clearly the idea that holograms could be classed as people in much the same way as Data drove forward the issue of whether he could be considered life and had personhood (a deep cut reference to 'The Measure of A Man' comes with the Doc's publisher saying he could be the next K'Ratak, a Klingon author first mentioned in that episode!). The situations aren't quite the same because although both androids and holograms were designed to be tools, something humans could use for their benefit, the former was designed with the plan of developing innate desires to become more like his creator, while the latter was a computer program. The line between recreational holograms and their status as sentient life had been blurred for some time thanks to the Doctor, but he was existing in a pocket of the universe and not having any effect on wider society, and though 'DS9' had also played with the issue thanks to Vic Fontaine, who knew his own limitations and had no wish to exceed them, there was no serious attempt to examine what the essence of holographic life was and they'd remained tools perhaps due to the ease of creation - you can make endless numbers of holograms, there isn't actual physical manufacturing involved, it's all much more ethereal and the use were mainly for fictional creations rather than beings that would learn and grow. Of course any hologram could have that potential, just as any mechanical device could be developed further, but the spark of life has to be more than mere data (no offence, Data!). The Doctor was unique because he'd been allowed so much latitude (eventually), had the benefit of technology from the far future, and the necessity to develop rapidly for the survival of the crew more than himself.

All this is just skirting the issue, I don't think holograms would have become generally sentient or why have them at all, there has to be a reason for their existence in the same way animals bred for food would have little purpose without that end goal. At the same time it did throw up all kinds of questions about the future of the 24th Century and what it would be like, one reason why I always hoped for more Trek post-'Voyager,' and had to make do with jumping back in the timeline for 'Enterprise' (as much as it was pleasing to have the 22nd Century fleshed out), and reboots/prequels the only successor until the coming of the questionable 'Picard,' which pretty much ignored any interesting in-universe plot threads and continued on with its galaxy-destroying serial of the year as pioneered by the weak 'Discovery.' I notice even 'Lower Decks,' set only a few years after 'Voyager,' almost never shows any holographic crew, I can't even remember an EMH aboard. Does this mean Starfleet pulled back from developing such useful tools due to the Doctor, or is it simply the case the writers didn't know what to do with the idea and decided to leave it alone? Thanks to 'DS9' and 'Voyager' you'd have expected holographic assistants to have become more prevalent as the technology improved, but there's not really much to be gained by looking for answers in modern Trek, for all its pretty effects it's often largely quite vacuous and the opposite of satisfying intellectual exploration of ideas.

I couldn't help but think of the state of Trek then and now in the Doctor's line about how his holoprogram exploring the life of a hologram aboard a starship was a serious attempt at social commentary, while Paris' parody of his work was an 'insulting farce,' because that really does sum up the situation very well! But enough about Trek as it is (despite the Doctor being the last old-Trek regular to join a modern series in 'Starfleet Academy'), let's enjoy what it was and should have continued being! It is a delight to see the Doc back to his insensitive ways as he always used to be, and it makes another pertinent point that resonates with today: not just the rise of artificial intelligence and what that might mean for humanity, but the victim culture we're all encouraged to subscribe to. In this case the Doctor expresses feelings of being hard done by through his literary outlet, whether it be the limitations of his life or dismissing the great gift that he should never have had for its damage to the timeline in the mobile emitter (think of how much he's done thanks to that - how could he possibly not have altered the timeline since it wasn't supposed to be invented until the 29th Century!), a boon he's presenting as a burden, the constant reminder of being different - it's all a matter of perspective, and in our modern culture where we have so much that we're constantly ungrateful for, as opposed to poorer parts of the world where people appreciate the little they have, it really shows where modern society has gone, the example of the Doctor's ingratitude only increasing.

Rather than celebrating the fact he exists at all, and that he was allowed to progress into sentience when at the start he was merely an emergency addition, he chooses to focus on the negative side of things, and that's not usually the Trek way, perhaps a hint of the darker path it was to tread in the 21st Century productions (I know, technically it's already being made in the 21st Century, but I'll always think of the series as being of the 90s). You can see they're trying to draw parallels with slavery and oppression, but it's not wise to be putting your idealistic futuristic heroes in the shade unless you really are making the point that even 24th Century humans aren't actually the 'evolved' beings Roddenberry wanted them to be, and accepting that even in fiction we can't really paint humanity as being Good. In one sense I'm fine with that, because I believe we're fallen beings, not an ever-improving group of animals that have somehow got to the level of 'civilised' and are only going to get better. Human nature doesn't change. The difference is that I view Trek as escapist drama, not that I believe in its reality as a signpost of our actual future (for the best in some ways: World War III is due this century...), so while I'm open to seeing individuals grow and change, overcoming prejudices or whatever, I wouldn't want the world to be considered inherently wrong in itself, as it would if holograms really were slaves. The stark difference is that humans were there already, while holograms were designed to be an addition.

There might be a case to answer for the humaneness of allowing holograms to develop as Doc and Vic had, but then they were special cases rather than what all holograms were designed to be. The shot at the end with all the Mark I EMHs (Emerging Menial Holograms?), breaking rocks like they're in some kind of penal colony, doesn't seem quite realistic to me - if they'd given it some context, like they're in an important Dilithium mine to keep Starfleet's ships running, then it might have seemed likely, but just using them for the sake of it smacks of writers trying to make a point. There's the impression there could be some kind of holo-revolution brewing as they tell each other of the Doc's holonovel, and that could have been a direction to explore had Trek continued in this era. Otherwise it leaves too much hanging and uncertain, and we already know the Mark I's were meant for short term medical assistance, so what would they be doing as miners? It doesn't make much sense so there is that slight irritation of a thread that was going to go nowhere. The issues at hand are as much about free speech and the value of reputation, and the defamation of such: whether it's fine to write a thinly veiled social commentary on those you work with on a day-to-day basis that will give readers (or viewers, or participators, however you describe a holonovel user!), a skewed idea of reality.

A far bigger question once again goes to the use of personal image! The crew really don't seem all that bothered about their bodies being co-opted for a holoprogram that anyone can see, it's more about the inconsistencies. On one hand I can understand they're much more relaxed about such things in the future (at least in Starfleet and in reasonable circumstances - Kira was furious to be the object of Quark's nefarious holoprogram back in 'DS9'), because they don't think cynically as a rule, but at the same time your face is yours and it's just always seemed wrong and an invasion of privacy when Holodecks recreate a living person, as far back as Reg Barclay in 'Hollow Pursuits.' They missed a trick here, since Reg is actually in this episode, but never has any scenes with the Doc where he might have reminded him of that time and how it didn't help endear him to his crewmates (although there are plenty of other good references to past Trek, such as the Doc's publisher also doing the Dixon Hill series that goes back to Season 1 'TNG'). In fact, other than the idea that Reg is behind the now regular communication with the ship, he was redundant, which is a waste of Dwight Schultz's talents in his penultimate appearance, as much as I like to see the little gang back home, though this time it's only he and Admiral Paris. I wish they'd developed the Starfleet HQ side of the series more, giving them their own stories that integrated with Voyager - to be fair they usually did that with Barclay, but not so this time.

Forgetting the personal problems the crew have with seeing doubles, it's great fun for us viewers when we get alternative versions of our familiar characters: 'Mr. Marseilles' with his ridiculous moustache (they never look good!), Chakotay as the Bajoran Katanay (which sounds right for the race), sporting a different large facial tattoo, B'Elanna gets to be human Torrey for the first time since Season 1's 'Faces,' I believe, and Harry is 'Kymble,' more like the evil Voyager crew as seen in 'Living Witness,' only this is a reverse of what happened there because the EMH was the one defending his crew's reputation rather than playing with it! Even Seven, in the guise of Three of Eight has blinky Borg lights that are deliberately excessive, and of course Tuvok is Tulak and gets to wear the evil goatee beard of the Mirror Universe, which probably explains why I'm always surprised when the actual Mirror Tuvok was beardless in his one appearance on 'DS9'! At the least, the issue of personal privacy and image is addressed, since the Doc claims the physical parameters were merely a starting point. Perhaps we can accept them as placeholders? The weird thing is that the episode skirts with parodying real life since here both the Doctor and Neelix are interested in writing, and in real life both actors did release a book based on their character, though I don't remember if that was before or after the series for either the Hologram's Handbook or Neelix' cookbook.

Neelix is, as generally the case, one who doesn't have much to do, but what he did made an impact - he's so diplomatic, giving up his precious comms chip where each person is allowed three minutes a day to contact someone on Earth, based on a queue of the higher number being closer to the front. On reflection, Neelix wouldn't have anyone to contact so it makes sense for him to give it up, but at the same time, neither did the Doctor until he got in touch with the Bolian publisher (another episode, another Bolian in a suit!), and it would have been interesting to hear whom he may have got in touch with - someone from Starfleet asking to support him in entering the Academy? Permission to live on Earth? Who knows, he certainly didn't expect to leave the ship, but the dissolution of Voyager's crew would have been one more fascinating aspect of returning home that would have given ample drama to mine. Another generous character is Seven. In her case she's somewhat afraid to make contact with her Aunt Irene, but when Harry graciously refuses to take her chip when offered she boldly takes the Borg by the horns and is delightfully apologetic to this long-lost family member (once again, a far cry from the embittered, hard-drinking misery of 'Picard' - touchingly, Irene calls her by the name Annika, an identity she rejects in the stupid later series, full of its cynical, negative destruction of characters). Torres, too, has a moment of healing with her Father (or at least the promising groundwork for it), a brilliant touch to get him back again after he'd appeared only a few episodes ago in flashback. Not forgetting Kim's parents (his Mum wants to know when he's going to be promoted and he makes a good point that it's a small ship and there's only so many posts aboard), whom we'd heard about from day one - it's all such pure delight that it makes you realise how much the series has been missing by being stranded so far from home.

The live image of Earth Admiral Paris sends Voyager was surprisingly moving since it's the first time they've seen Earth where it's not an alternate timeline or the past, but the genuine, real, contemporary Earth, many of the crew's home planet and the base of operations for the Federation and Starfleet, and it's momentous for them to finally be within 'touching distance,' almost. That's the quality of the episode, that it can jump from poignancy to comedy to commentary and has fun along the way. By the end we've had broad comedy, sensitive drama and finish up with practically a trial episode, so they crammed a lot in and my only complaint would be that it seems to rush by far too quickly. The characters are used well, Tuvok, for example getting his usual role of impeccable legal defence of a crewmate, and quite the gall of the Arbitrator (Joseph Campanella who died in his 90s in 2018), to tell a Vulcan his logic was flawed! But the right result came through in the end, both allowing the Doctor the value of an artist, while also leaving his personhood to be determined in future, a touch of what life would have been like for him had we been afforded time to sit with the characters back in the Alpha Quadrant. A mere taster, you could say, but what was there was very tasty indeed. There are some great links back to other guest roles: Barry Gordon (Broht), had been a Ferengi in 'DS9' (Season 1's 'The Nagus'), and Kim's parents had both appeared before, Robert Ito as another character, again way back in a first season, this time 'TNG' ('Coming of Age'), while Irene Tsu had previously played his Mother in Season 3's 'Favourite Son,' so a very nice touch they had her return. Just a shame they couldn't get the actor who played Dr. Zimmerman to reprise his role!

****