In other words, you'll spend more time performing routine functions and strategizing about unit movement than actually firing phasers and killing off your enemies. Changes to the basic gameplay mechanics include new resources to gather (metal and latinum), a new Y-axis similar to the one in Homeworld where ships can move up and down in space, and a new colonization requirement. Other missions keep you on your toes in ambushes and escort missions, but there's rarely the adrenalin rush of a more fast-paced space combat RTS. Instead, because it's the first mission, you can easily wipe them out in about 15 minutes. Why start the game with a mission against the impenetrable Borg, making one of the fiercest Federation enemies into hapless idiots? Usually, the Borg would deploy their gigantic Cubes and crush the Federation like ants. Somewhat of a letdown, the scripted sequences feel more like the design team was struggling for ideas. Armada II offers only three campaigns, including the Federation, Klingons, and Borg. Memorable sequences abounded, from the time you had to slither you're way through a nebula-infested blockade as Worf, or the ambush missions where stealth played a more important role than outright combat.
It's a strange twist that the single-player campaign is not nearly as interesting as the arcade-like gameplay of the original, released about two years ago.
Besides that, you'll also resolve a new Federation crisis with those nasty Borg, power more ships and command two new races, and compete against other Trek fans in a highly improved multiplayer environment. In the skirmish mode you can even blow their cargo ships off the face of the universe. Wham, see you in the next rerun, ya hairball!Īnd while this is not exactly the plot for the new Next Generation-era real-time strategy game, Star Trek: Armada II, you do encounter the annoying species occasionally. In fact, give me one day as a Federation Admiral and I'd photon torpedo them all back to their homeworld. Heck, I'd rather hob-knob with the Borg than associate with those furry excuses for a life form. Not only do they sound like nasally twelve-year old girls, but they look like rats on a bad hair day.
Who needs 'em? Stinking bottom-dwellers of the universe.
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