Inside London’s Star Trek-inspired Bridge Command, an interactive gaming experience powered by smart tech and role-playing

Stardate: October 2024. Location: Vauxhall. Time: just after lunch.

My journey to the farthest reaches of the universe begins through a nondescript door, as I’m ushered off the busy London pavement and into a large waiting area. I look around and find myself in a space that’s part spaceport, part Starfleet changing room, with staff holding clipboards and racks of uniforms hanging ready. Am I going to have to take off my clothes in front of everybody? (Thankfully for all involved, no.)

Eurogamer video producer Jim Trinca is standing ahead of me, giving a thumbs up while already pulling on his own interstellar jumpsuit (a dark blue, practical design – think Enterprise-era Trek – that goes over your civilian clothes). I’m handed patches, showing my character’s rank (something low) and the name of our assigned vessel: the USC Havock. Together with five other eager space cadets, Jim and I help form the crew of our intrepid space vessel – becoming its Bridge Command.

As interactive experiences go, Parabolic Theatre’s Bridge Command is one of the most video game-y that I’ve tried so far. Sure, there’s a small army of actual human staff to ensure everything runs smoothly and who, in character, play the roles of other fleet personnel (or, over video communications, passing starship captains in need of our help). And yes, this is an experience that plays out over a physical set – and a surprisingly large one, too, that encompasses a spacious bar staffed by space station engineers moonlighting as cocktail makers (I opt for a can of lager, which I’m served in a futuristic space Thermos), and a warren of spaceship rooms filled with electrical conduits, switches and fuses (primed to blow up and go wrong as our run-of-the-mill bog standard space mission quickly descends into delicious chaos).

But for much of your time in Bridge Command, perhaps unsurprisingly, you are situated on your starship’s bridge, and at touchscreen computer stations. It’s here each player interacts with some rather clever software, which runs the entire spaceship experience via simultaneous inputs from all crew members on board (and, I suspect, the experience’s staff effectively acting as digital dungeon masters behind the scenes). You can volunteer for specific jobs on board – the navigator who steers the ship, the weapons operators who aim and fire its various armaments, and so on – though the mechanics of it all mean everyone gets to play a key role at certain points.

As communications officer, it was my job to speak via video link to our superiors back at base, and to try and explain our dodgy spaceship handling to the nearby ship captain we were meant to be escorting. Brilliantly, I could also hail and trade text insults with the space pirates who promptly turned up to cause trouble, and receive suitably chilling messages in response about how we were all going to die horribly. Sat at my console screen, I found the whole thing a fun mix of video gaming, social interaction and advanced Microsoft Teams (actually that sounds bad – let’s say Google Meet) as I shouted critical information to the captain or the navigator, set waypoints for us to follow, and hacked enemy ship systems via the equivalent of a lock-picking mini-game that played a lot like Minesweeper.

Jim, to his huge credit, excelled at what seemed to be one of the toughest jobs. As chief engineer, it was on him to keep the ship’s power levels in check via his screen’s own set of interactive options. Every decision – power the engines! raise shields! fire lasers! – had an energy cost, and a need to ensure each system did not overheat. At the same time, the ship had to generate fresh energy, and balance its output needs to avoid power bottlenecks. On top of all that, there were those conduits, switches and fuses I mentioned earlier. Those quickly started to blow, meaning Jim had to dash off around the spaceship’s various rooms to replace them. On the one hand, I was a little jealous that he got to see more of the set (there really was little downtime to go poking around in other rooms throughout). On the other, I got to sit in a nice comfy chair chatting to the Bridge Command’s actors, while Jim had to jog about. At one point, power levels critical, dry ice smoke pouring out of his console, I definitely heard him have a little swear. But hey, I felt that was very in character.

Perhaps my favourite moment of the experience came as the space dust settled on our tough battle with the quadrant’s pirates, and the captain of the ship we’d been escorting docked and joined us on the bridge for a debrief. It was here we were given options for how we’d like the remainder of our mission to play out, as there were surely more enemies out there. Should we now try and run? Would it be better to go out pirate hunting, and get on the offensive? We settled on a third option – where we’d lay in wait, send out false video communications that we were stuck, damaged beyond repair, and act as bait. At that point, the cavalry would rush in, and take the pirates unawares. It felt like a smart moment that was designed to encourage roleplay and some team-wide decision making, and made what happened next all the more fun to then play out, as I relayed a dummy distress call via video message.

The remainder of the experience shifted in response to our plans, giving us an ending that felt organic. Chatting back in the bar afterwards, mission accomplished, crew fully debriefed, I learnt from another attendee who’d been to Bridge Command multiple times that every visit he’d been to, the storyline – and how it ended – had been completely different.

I’d absolutely recommend Bridge Command for anyone who’s a fan of interactive experiences, co-operative sci-fi gaming, or just as a fun activity to do with a group of pals. There are different missions you can book for, including options less focused on combat that instead centre on exploration, diplomacy, or intrigue themes, and I’d like to try one of these as an alternative. Combat often felt a little all-encompassing and hectic, though perhaps fittingly so. I’m also keen to see the ship’s escape pod space, which remained locked throughout our session, though I understand this only comes into play if things go Very Badly.

The whole thing, including some chat in the bar after, lasted around two hours, without a second of downtime. I’d have liked a bit of a pause in the experience more often, I think, or just a bit more time at some point to simply go see what everyone else was doing and poke around the ship, but I certainly can’t fault the experience for flagging at any point. It’s well priced – tickets are from £40 on weekdays or £50 at weekends, which feels good for the experience’s set design and software, its decent-sized cast and its central London location (you also get a free drink thrown in, though you don’t get to keep the space Thermos). And any return visits benefit from you being able to pick up your flight history, ensuring your service record and any commendations (Jim was robbed of a promotion!) carry forward. All in all, Space Command runs a tight ship. The question is – can you?