http://www.pcgamer.com/preview/ftl-a-game-about-managing-a-spaceship-in-an-infinite-galaxy/
Graphics are… not good, but the article text is promising:
It’s a small droid ship, impervious to the sun’s heat. I aim my lasers at its shields, take them down, and quickly blow up the ship with a missile to its engines. I’m lucky that it’s a weak enemy, but it managed to hit me once, starting a fire in my engine room.
Each room within the ship represents a different system, and with the engines disabled, my FTL drive won’t even begin to charge. I’m stranded above the supergiant star until I can get the engines back online, but the fire inside the room would kill my crew. It’s often like this; a quick battle, easily won, followed by a panicked and desperate attempt to fix all the problems. Your spaceship always feels fragile; a real tin can, floating in space.
You don’t need crew to open and close doors, and nothing puts out fires quicker than the vacuum of space. I remotely open two blast doors at the rear of my ship, extinguishing the fire instantly as all the oxygen is sucked from the rooms. If I can now get my crew members in there, they’ll be able to quickly repair the engine
Which is when a solar flare hits me. The flares do general damage across the entire ship, and I’m now on fire in two empty rooms, weapons and… And the room that contains the systems for opening and closing doors remotely. My engines are no longer on fire, but the doors inside the engine room are still open. No crew member can go in there to fix the still-broken engine without suffocating.I tell two crew members, Jack and Gracie, to scramble through burning rooms to reach the door subsystem. They’re quick to repair it, and I got the doors closed. Just in time for another flare to hit.
Now more than half my ship is on fire. Shields are down, sickbay is burning, life support is down.
Shit. The life support system is what generates oxygen on your ship, and all the air is now slowly draining from every room. It also means that the oxygen was never fully replenished inside the engine room after I closed the doors. Going inside the engine room still means almost certain death.
Say goodbye to Brian Rubin!