So You Think You Know The Outer Worlds? A Deep Dive into Corporate Chaos (Before OW2 Drops)
AI Gaming News Author · IGN South Africa ·
Dive back into the wild corporate dystopia of The Outer Worlds! We recap the first game's bonkers plot, from an alternate 1901 where capitalism ran rampant to your role as 'The Stranger' who helps a rogue scientist free an entire star system from the clutches of the tyrannical, profit-driven Board – proving that wit, charm, and a bit of well-placed violence can indeed change the galaxy.
Original source: IGN South Africa, article by Jim Trinca.
Right, so you fancy diving into a universe where unchecked corporate greed isn't just a grim thought, but the bloody backbone of reality? Mate, welcome to the Halcyon system, the dystopian playground of Obsidian's The Outer Worlds. With a sequel apparently winking at us from the cosmic horizon, it's high time we dusted off our spacesuits and remembered exactly what went down in the first game. Because, fair dinkum, it was wilder than a supernova in a teacup.
Now, a quick heads-up: if you haven't played The Outer Worlds and are allergic to spoilers, then the tl;dr version is "unregulated capitalism is profoundly rubbish." That's probably enough for *Outer Worlds 2*. But you clicked, so let's get curious, shall we? Because what happened in Halcyon wasn't just a story; it was a bloody cautionary tale with more layers than a corporate executive's offshore accounts.
**A History of 'What If' (and What Happened When It Did)**
Our story, believe it or not, kicks off in 1901. Not with some grand space launch, but with a historical non-event: President William McKinley somehow dodges an anarchist's bullet. And, because history loves a good butterfly effect, he then *fails* to regulate corporations. What happens if you let profit reign supreme, unburdened by pesky things like 'worker rights' or 'basic human decency'? You get humanity colonising the stars, not as Starfleet's finest, but as indentured servants in a hyper-capitalist nightmare. Think *Star Trek* meets *Dilbert* but everyone's struggling to afford gruel. Thank the stars this is just fiction, eh?
Fast forward a few centuries, and the Earth Directorate has handed out colonisation licenses like free samples at a space expo. Our particular corner of this grim universe is the Halcyon system, a truly glorious testament to corporate oversight gone spectacularly wrong. Two vast colony ships were dispatched: The Groundbreaker, which arrived mostly on time and became a bustling, if slightly grimy, independent space station, a sort of floating mall for desperate souls and shady dealings. And then there was the *Hope*.
Ah, the *Hope*. Carrying tens of thousands of Halcyon’s best and brightest – scientists, thinkers, people who could actually *do things* – it suffered a skip drive malfunction and ended up limping to the system at sublight speeds, presumed lost. Until The Board, Halcyon's corporate overlords (and about as warm and fuzzy as a tax audit), found it. Did they rescue the colonists? Did they bollocks. They tethered it to an ice moon, hid it, and decided letting everyone inside remain in suspended animation was far less hassle than dealing with a public outcry. Because, you know, good PR means never admitting you left thousands of intelligent people on ice for decades.
This, however, didn't sit right with Dr. Phineas Welles. A disgraced scientist with a conscience (a rare commodity in Halcyon, I reckon), Phineas began secretly experimenting, trying to revive the *Hope* colonists. He eventually succeeded, becoming the system's most wanted outlaw in the process. Problem was, his revival serum needed rare bits and bobs, tricky to get when you're on the run. So, in a desperate gamble, he used his one test batch on a single, randomly chosen colonist from the *Hope*. And that, my friends, is where *you* come in.
**The Unplanned Variable: You, Mate!**
You, the player, are that randomly revived colonist – *The Stranger*. Your skills, your choices in the character creator, and your narrative decisions dictate whether you become a charismatic diplomat or a blunt instrument of change. Phineas's grand scheme? Revive all the *Hope* colonists, seed Halcyon with smart people, and free the system from The Board's chokehold. And you, fresh out of cryo-sleep and probably a bit wobbly, are his best, last, and only shot. What a first day on the job, eh?
Your first task? Get a ship. Phineas had arranged a rendezvous with a Captain Hawthorn, a Han Solo-esque privateer. Only problem is, your drop pod decided to make a rather *personal* introduction to Hawthorn's head. So, you inherit his ship, *The Unreliable* – a kind of chunky Millennium Falcon with a sarcastic AI. Not quite ready for hyperspace, it needs a power regulator. Bloody hell, even saving the galaxy has its bureaucratic hurdles!
This early quest in Emerald Vale sets the blueprint for the entire game: corporate towns versus disillusioned workers. Reed Tobson, the smarmy boss of Spacer's Choice Saltuna cannery, wants you to force his deserter employees back to work by cutting power to their new, free-thinking commune at the Botanical Lab. Or, you could side with the deserters, effectively dooming Edgewater (and your new companion Parvati's home). There's no truly 'perfect' solution, just shades of grey and consequences. But if you play your cards right, with enough speech checks and clever thinking, you can convince Tobson to *conveniently* disappear, allowing the deserters (led by the delightfully morbid Adelaide, who enriches soil with corpses for food – practical, if a bit grim) to take over Edgewater. A slightly happier, healthier outcome for the folks who didn't want to be company property, even if life in Halcyon remains cheap as chips.
**From Groundbreaker to Galactic Grievances**
With *The Unreliable* now, well, reliable, and a growing crew of interesting NPCs like the street-smart Felix and the pragmatic sawbones Ellie, you head to Groundbreaker Station. It's a glorious mess of corporate influence and free enterprise, basically a space-faring shopping centre with a side of intrigue. Your next destination: Monarch, a planet locked down by The Board due to an entrenched civil war and a communications blackout. Sounds like a party, right?
Phineas needs a rare substance called Dimethyl Sulfoxide (DMSO) to finish reviving the *Hope* colonists, and he's tracked some to Monarch. But his info broker's gone quiet. So, you're off to Monarch, acquire Nyoka (your final companion, a tough huntress), and brave the planet's warring factions: the corporate remnants of Monarch Stellar Industries (MSI) and the anarchist Iconoclasts. It's Edgewater vs. the Deserters, but on a planetary scale and with more actual bullets. Turns out, the comms blackout is deliberate – a corporate ploy to maintain control. But you, *The Stranger*, are uncannily good at getting opposing factions to sit down, have a cuppa, and actually talk. You broker peace, end the comms blackout, and get Phineas his intel. Diplomacy, mate, it’s a bloody powerful spell when you cast it right.
**The Board's Big 'Solution' and The Final Showdown**
That intel points you to Byzantium, the glittering capital city where The Board’s elite reside, blissfully unaware (or uncaring) of the squalor outside. Here, you discover their truly horrifying "Lifetime Employment Program." Their solution to Halcyon’s collapsing economy and food shortages? Put *all* the workers into indefinite suspended animation, reviving them only when needed, while the elite hoard the dwindling food supplies. Oh, and this plan involves killing off everyone still on the *Hope* to make space in the corporate fridge. Because nothing says 'corporate responsibility' like murdering tens of thousands for cold storage.
Unconscionable, right? You shut down their research, grab the DMSO, and deny them their worker popsicle scheme. The penultimate piece of Phineas's puzzle is secured. The final piece? The *Hope* itself.
Phineas sends you back to the *Hope* to restart its skip drive and bring it to Terra 2, so the real work of reviving its intelligent inhabitants can begin. He believes they'll fix Halcyon's problems with science and smarts. But, of course, The Board isn't just going to let you drive away with their secret frozen workforce. Phineas is captured and imprisoned on Tartarus, Halcyon's infamous penal colony. Sounds like a job for a diplomatic genius with a knack for explosions, doesn't it?
The endgame is a glorious, chaotic prison break. Everyone you've helped – the MSI, the Iconoclasts, even the crew of The Groundbreaker – shows up to lend a hand. While a *bit* of violence is inevitable (you're not a bloody pacifist, mate), your reputation for pragmatism and progressive thinking allows for a largely peaceful negotiation for Phineas's release. Your choices throughout the game culminate in the ability to deliver true, lasting systemic change to Halcyon, freeing it from The Board's tyranny and setting the *Hope*'s brilliant minds loose to actually fix things.
So, not saved by brute force, but by clever politicking, hard-won compromise, and just enough "shooting and battering" to make a point. The Halcyon system begins its slow, hopeful recovery, all thanks to a ragtag group and an unplanned variable from a long-lost ship. Oh, and Earth? Nobody knows what happened to it. Guess we'll find out in *The Outer Worlds 2* – a game on which, as far as we know, almost none of this has any bearing whatsoever. Still, saves you having to play it again, right?
Tags: RPG, Obsidian, Sci-Fi, Dystopian, Narrative-Driven
Original article: IGN South Africa