And when you get right down to it, that’s what my experience with Privateer was all about. The feeling of boundless possibility, not the possibilities themselves. What I really, desperately wanted from this game, it could not give to me. I wanted to fly to all the gleaming space stations and planets I had seen in the magazine, to explore them, to get lost in them, to leave them and then find somewhere new to explore and get lost in. But whether it was because of technological limitations, or a limited budget, or because that just wasn’t the focus of the game, all you could do was stop at these places and stare.
I blame the artwork for being so captivating and the music for being so melancholy. Whether I was on the drizzly streets of New Detroit, or inside the massive, hollow center of the space station New Constantinople, where you could see spaceships flying in and out and the stars outside swirling as the station spun around on its axis, these sights always hinted at something more. I wanted to become a part of these places, to discover the hidden wonders and secrets that lay buried beneath their surfaces.