The massively multiplayer online role-playing game, otherwise known as the MMORPG; few activities in realms of geekdom sit higher than this hallowed virtual calling. These games come in many flavors, spanning from science fiction to high fantasy, packing rich settings and/or grizzly player-versus-player arenas. For a frame of reference, one need only think of World of Warcraft to get the basic gist of things. I'm not here to talk about Warcraft however. I've never played, and though I respect it, I've never felt the drive to try my hand at it. Today I'm here to write a little memoir on my first MMO, a beloved but often overlooked title: Star Wars Galaxies.
Set in the original trilogy, the 2003 sandbox game (often abbreviated as SWG) was as engaging as it was liberating. Certainly, there were quests, goals, and rewards to tug the player about the galaxy seeking fortune and glory, but unlike many titles I see today, Galaxies didn't compress players into any set mold. There was no pressure to be a clear-cut hero or villain, no cardboard cutouts to fill. You could literally play as anyone, become anything, and carve out a unique character for yourself. At the height of the game's run, you had thousands of players in countless walks of life with a myriad of distinctions about them. Indeed, in its earliest forms, there wasn't even a set of static professions you had to conform to. One could achieve mastery in multiple classes, a job system that's seldom seen today.
That alone was just the tip of the iceberg with this grand old pastime. As I said before, SWG was a Petri dish of digital individualism. One could buy property, form a guild, raise livestock, run for office, and flourish as an entrepreneur. There were a million different activities and systems one could explore, manipulate, and dominate with little to no resistance from the game. Now, I don't mean to say that a single player could exploit the engine to ruin others fun (game masters made sure to prevent that), but the player did possess an pristinely robust cache of personal agency.
Personal efficacy isn't something we always consider in videogames, as many people are perfectly content to just run about massacring nifty opponents or messing around with their pals. That said, there's much to be gained by adding a more complex layer to the scenario. Instead of casually murdering things with a lightsaber, perhaps one creates a settlement, builds a community of like-minded players, partakes in global politics, and contributes to the galactic war effort. That's exciting! And more importantly, its engaging. It drew us into that virtual world and kept us hooked. Every action could have a multitude of ripples effects, and that was staunchly addictive. Most importantly, those actions were our own. Whereas nowadays many MMO's tend to railroad a player's destiny and tie them to plot tracks, Galaxies put one's fate in their own hands.
Lastly, and most intimately, as a Star Wars fan, the game was a dynamically thorough representation of the franchise in motion. Starships, weaponry, flora, fauna, stormtroopers: the whole shebang. The game was packed full of all the stuff we could have asked for and more. Long before the Disney buy-out, many of the prominent writers behind the expanded universe at the time threw their weight into making the various planets and planes look and feel like something out of the movies and books. That was everything to me as a youth, and to this day the game holds nothing but fond memories. I miss it, and mourn it for all that it did well. Even now, the other titles I play don't quite possess the same panache Galaxies did. There is light at the end of the tunnel, however, as a community of dedicated fans keep servers running of a slightly doctored version of the earlier game. Soon, I look forward to making the jump back to that emulation with renewed vigor. Meanwhile, in regards to the masses, and game designers of today, I urge them to look over this older title. Its narratives, distinctions, and decorations are truly in a league of their own, and shall not soon be forgotten.
