As a bite-sized roguelite, Space Crew is as compact and well tuned as a new captain's console stuffed with top-of-the-line navigation instruments. After a short few drilling exercises, even rookie cadets will know the difference between their plasma cannons and their shield generators, medical bays and escape pods. Salty space admirals looking to test their strategic mettle, however, might find Space Crew's charming-but-limited gameplay loop a few crates short of a cargo hold.
I named my first ship The Big Dick Enterprise. Juvenile? Probably, but never let it be said that I shy away from the Freudian implications of hurtling through space in a giant metal oblong. Space Crew's cosmos is populated by an aggressive, Grey-like alien species called phasmids. They would eventually destroy the BDE, but I took some satisfaction knowing that their first encounter with Terran diplomacy was getting shot at by a cruiser with a dick joke embossed on the side in bold lettering.
The phasmids are your main source of grief in Space Crew. You'll kick off a mission to deliver cargo, or rescue a stranded astronaut from a doomed station, and eventually be rudely interrupted by some phasmids trying to blast your ship into tiny particles.