Mission Blog: Chapter 1 - Hello, Worlds

I don't like to draw much attention to No Man's Sky's technical problems, undeniably present though they are, but I did find it sort of hilarious that after my initial attempt to boot the game up saw it crash, it turned out you begin the game having crash landed. It was a graceless, unintentionally brilliant moment, the software failure seemingly a prologue to the game's opening scene.

Still, once I truly got started, any memory of the game crashing was quickly dashed. I stood alone, stranded on a planet with an aggressively cold climate. My suit's readout told me it was more than 50 below, a temperature I'd not experienced since catching the icy glare of my GCSE maths teacher. The planet's surface was blanketed in alien snow, large rocks and spikes of heridium pockmarking the landscape. Even the sky seemed frigid, just as colourless and harsh as the land.

My tiny red starship was smoking from the impact, debris scattered and scorched. I approached a mysterious object glinting in the daylight. It was some sort of pulsating artefact, instructing me to follow the path of the Atlas. I said yes, but decided soon after that I'd probably ignore the Atlas, given that this is a journey to the centre, which is a frankly ridiculous distance away. No distractions.

Ooh, look! Aliens!

My very first batch of freakish fauna was wonderfully weird. The largest was a stripy, turquoise frog-bear-thing. They were happy to share their territory with others; I was able to catch a photo of a herd of the blue-silver creatures wandering about with some far smaller bipedal dino-lizards.

But enough of that. My thermal protection was dropping quickly, and life support wasn't far behind. Luckily, zinc flowers appeared to be everywhere, and there was no shortage of carbon or plutonium crystals, either. No need to panic.

As I trekked a little further afield, gathering iron for some carite sheets as I went, I came across the first of many knowledge stones. It became apparent upon activating it that I was in a Vy'keen system, a race of intelligent aliens I'd later come to learn are extremely proud warriors who seem to live for multi-tool upgrades. Probably best to stay on their good side.

Before I knew it, the sun had slipped below the horizon, and the sky transitioned to a beautiful emerald green. Though the planet's terrain didn't deviate too much, night time transformed the world into a vibrant green wonderland. It was like walking around inside a glow stick. At this point, having traipsed the land for some time soaking up the atmosphere and gathering up some bits and bobs, I realised I'd almost forgotten about the whole repairing my ship and leaving the planet thing. It was a bit chilly, yes, but I liked this planet. For one thing, resources were pretty much everywhere, including massive deposits of gold. You can bet I mined as much of it as possible. It was then that the name for the planet struck me: Coldmine.

I was about to turn around and head back to the crash site when I noticed a question mark appear on my HUD. It was only a minute or so away. I decided to check it out, and I was pleased I did. It was a small Vy'keen outpost, deserted, but full of goodies. I acquired a new blueprint for my multi-tool, as well as a bunch more plutonium and a fascination bead, whatever the heck that was. I need more room to carry stuff. If there's one thing this game has in spades, it's stuff to collect. Fortunately, most of my resources were actually for fixing up my ship, and it was high time I did so. Within a matter of minutes, my little red starship (which I decided to nickname Lil Red) was up and running. Time to get out to space, sell all this gold, and touch down on a whole new world.

It couldn't have been much different. Much closer to its sun, this planet was red hot, with rocky terrain and, aside from some bizarre flora, devoid of life. The sentinels were very relaxed, much like on Coldmine, so I was again free to harvest the planet's elements. I scanned my surroundings.

Nothing.

I hopped back in Lil Red to see if I could scout out an area with more to see and do. It didn't take long for question marks to pepper the landscape, so I headed for the nearest one. It was a drop pod! I could begin upgrading my suit and expanding its inventory, something much needed at this point. I flew on to another nearby question mark. Another drop pod – what luck! The extra room will really make a difference. Another point of interest laid just a few minutes away, and I decided to walk. It was another drop pod. This pattern continued for quite some time, and it didn't take long to get to almost 20 slots on my suit. I named the planet Podpod, because it seemed to be completely covered in the things.

I also managed to locate a crashed ship – another small red one, as it happened, but a little bit cooler and with an extra inventory slot. I decided to fix it, as I had no where near enough money to buy a new ship any time soon – especially after all those drop pods. Good thing I found all that gold on Coldmine. I spent the next hour or so gathering resources and fixing components. In my quest for heridium, I happened upon an outpost where I found the blueprint for a hyperdrive. Excellent – soon I'd be capable of interstellar travel, me and my new ship. She needed a name. Space Hopper seemed too good to not use.

I made my way to the space station to see if I could pick up a dynamic resonator for my hyperdrive, the last ingredient needed. I was able to get one, but it was super expensive, and I was back down to very little money. Still, at least my hyperdrive was built – all I needed to do now was fuel it. I flew back down to Podpod to try and find blueprints for suspension fluid and antimatter, so again, I was on the hunt for question marks. From this point on it was fairly smooth sailing. I darted back and forth between the planets, gathering things and seeking out alien outposts, and eventually I was able to craft a warp cell or two. This was it. I was ready to move on, and head towards the centre. Before I left, however, I had to name the star system. It seemed only polite to do so, seeing as it had provided me with such a good start. I looked around for inspiration. The first object I saw was a biscuit tin.

I named the star system Biscuit Tin.

This seemed like a good theme for naming systems; I would label them after the objects within my vicinity. Perfect! And what a way to start. Biscuit Tin, I salute you – but I must move on. I entered the galactic map, selected the next star, and made the jump.

I'd be at the centre in no time...