

Many modern board games incorporate card-based mechanics to introduce variety, surprise players, or offer small bonuses that can impact gameplay. Often, these cards give the impression of receiving something extra—an unexpected perk or tactical edge that breaks from the standard flow of the game. In Galactic Cruise, players draw and play cards throughout the game that offer benefits or minor effects. While this system adds another layer to the game’s structure, it’s worth questioning whether these cards meaningfully shape the experience or simply serve to make players feel rewarded. Since all players have access to the same types of cards over time, the sense of getting something special may be more psychological than strategic. This post examines how such mechanics can walk a fine line between enriching gameplay and adding perceived complexity, using Galactic Cruise as a primary example.

In Galactic Cruise, the cards—called “Agendas”—offer players two types of benefits. One is a basic utility: a card can be discarded to obtain a resource, such as fuel, oxygen, or food. The other is a more powerful effect, such as enhancing an action (e.g., drawing extra cards) or gaining an additional action during a turn. These cards can be highly impactful, but they sometimes feel thematically disconnected. In what real-world scenario can someone simply “draw a card” and suddenly take an extra vacation or earn a spontaneous workplace bonus? The cards in Galactic Cruise feel more like abstract perks or gifts than thematic rewards.
Galactic Cruise is a strategic board game where players take on the roles of executives within the same interstellar tourism company, all competing for the top position: CEO. Despite the rivalry, players work under a unified corporate structure, sharing access to company-owned resources and operating on a single shared business campus. This structure explains why players can draw from common supplies and interact with each other’s developments during the game.
Each round, players take two actions from a predefined list, including improving existing facilities, producing resources such as fuel, oxygen, or food, managing tourists, or building ships. Rather than building entirely new structures, players enhance existing parts of the company’s infrastructure, boosting efficiency or unlocking new capabilities. Workers are placed on spaces throughout the shared campus, and players can often benefit from each other’s upgrades, taking actions adjacent to or connected to facilities another player has enhanced.
Overlaying this tight, strategic system are the game’s Agenda cards. Their effects are not grounded in the game’s real-world theme, and their purpose seems more geared toward adding variability and momentum than reinforcing the core mechanics. While they do accelerate gameplay by making specific actions more impactful, they also feel somewhat optional—an extra layer that could be removed with little effect on the overall structure or strategic depth of the game.
Many tabletop board games use cards in ways that are integral to gameplay. In others, cards might be thematic but play a secondary role. Yet in some games, cards that grant temporary enhancements to a player’s abilities feel arbitrary and could be removed without any real impact on the game. And yet, like in Galactic Cruise, these cards do add excitement and variety. Should Galactic Cruise have been designed without the Agenda cards? Or was the game a bit dull without them? It’s an interesting question to ponder.