N7 day came and went, clearing the air about the rumored Mass Effect Trilogy Remaster. Called the Mass Effect Legendary Edition, all three games are bundled and ready to let us put our own story together. For every brilliant moment the series has cemented into memory, there’s one thing that haunts many players: The Mako.

Listen, that clunky machine falls from orbit and only suffers a flat tire. I wish my old Grand Prix were this durable. This beast doesn’t care that you don’t enjoy the trek up mountains, fighting as it whips a donut to the right when you’re attempting to slow down and turn left. The front-facing canon that rotates will silence any nay-sayers about its excellence. I can’t say that its weak boosting system will allow it to escape the hilarious scrutiny we must employ. I’m sorry, Bioware.

The Mako was supposed to add convenience

Allow me to get serious now. To begin with, a game’s vehicle should offer reliable transportation if its world is massive. As a matter of fact, large maps and worlds crumble if there isn’t a quick traversal mechanic. Whether that is a vehicle or quick travel. Mass Effect sought to solve our traversal problems with the Mako. While not the worst handling, there’s a learning curve that makes the Mako an undesirable piece of in-game tech.

The Mako is one part of a system that is sorely missed in Mass Effect 2 and 3. Planetary exploration takes a backseat in the sequels. I miss climbing random mountains and driving along unforgiving terrain, even if each planet has a minute level of content. Some games use gimmicks to give the illusion of massive content, but often I am dissatisfied with the repetitiveness. The mechanic fits the space-faring game, though. I mean, who can forget witnessing their first Thresher Maw emerging from the ground as you’re driving by?

Each planet is mostly barren, but that’s an element that has always needed expansion. Instead of replacing exploration with sending out probes, planets need to be complex and large. Resource limitations may answer why Mass Effect 1 didn’t have striking visuals for each planet, but there is no excuse for the sequels. Or there’s so much disdain for the M35 Mako that the inclusion of planets outside the main narrative is a deliberate choice.

Conclusion

Our favorite vehicle to hate has charm, but after I finish the remaster, I won’t mind wiping my hands of it. After all, it is a small part of a handful of systems replaced for the sequels, and to say the Mako’s disappearance was a breath of fresh air is under-selling it.

Despite all I’ve said, I look forward to experiencing the imperfections of the first game. It’s a brilliant series and is ultimately the reason I jumped on the Xbox bandwagon. The Mako is part of the package, and I welcome it back.