Being a ruthless, oligarchical, all conquering space emperor would be marvellous wouldn’t it?
Imagine it. Getting up when you want, ordering your personally made robot slave which sounds like Richard Gere for a cup of earl grey (hot), before putting on your cape that trails 12 feet behind you (and has the lyrics to the theme from Shaft embroidered on it) and sauntering into the command deck, glowering at your underlings and reeling off a list of planets you want to see conquered, explored or obliterated. It should be the best thing ever. You should feel like Ming the Merciless, Darth Vader, or maybe even Skeletor …
So why does Armada 2526 make you feel like you’re Tim from The Office?
Armada 2526 is fine and dandy for a certain type of gamer, the type with an attention span, tolerance for Windows 95 era graphics and a Napoleon Complex. But for everyone else that’s been given ADHD by spending too many hours sat playing Sonic in their underpants, chugging Tizer like an elephant, it’s borderline coma inducing. It’s just so incredibly hard to really give a toss about it, which is rather at odds with its intent seeing as it sets out to be a giant epic space opera.
The potentially empowering acts of negotiating treaties with alien races, founding colonies and engaging in large scale space battles are given all the impetus and drama of the little paperclip with a face from Microsoft Word.
On the plus side it’s cheap.