Andromeda Playtest pt 2

Second report on my Mothership module playtest. The crew:

@Volkovy, playing "Dog" Fairbanks, an ex-construction teamster.

@Burrbank playing Lana Zephyr, Marine. Top of their class but new to field work.

@Face_Fisted playing Dent, a vat-grown droid with strange eyes like Riddick. Sadly could not be present at this game so I played Dent as an NPC.

We start back up with Dog, Lana and Dent hiding out in Security, scanning nightmarish security footage of the Resort’s android staff hunting down strange blob-creatures. Lana notices that when the cam isn’t actually focused on a blob, though, they seem to look a lot more human-like, and in fact one of them in the resort lobby looks a lot like one of the gangsters they’re here to rescue. 

Heading out to go find their target, the crew carefully creep down a hallway out of the Staffing building. Along the way they notice a nearby commotion- an android, who looks more like an ordinary person than the other ones, attacking a group of android staff. Although they’re curious about what’s going on, they all decide to take advantage of the distraction to cover their escape. After leaving quietly, they decide to return to their ship and have the autopilot fly it to the Guest Landing pad to wait for them, since that’s closer to their target and they don’t want to backtrack.

They’ll have to cross the pool area to get into the lobby, and to even get there, they’ll have to reckon with a locked gate. Luckily, a trellis along the wall and palm trees providing cover allow the group to sneak in safely. The pool area has lots of suspicious bloodstains on the ground and weirdly bubbly pools- but there’s also a pool bar, to our heroes’ delight.

Dog peeks inside the little thatch-roof stall, sees some very fancy alcohol and exotic fruits, and jumps over the bar to start making himself a delicious drink. Unfortunately, when he leaps in, he lands right on top of a corpse (presumably that of the bartender) with its eyes torn out. Eeewwww. Not to be deterred, he mixes an extremely fancy piña colada.Downing it relieves some of the Stress he’s been racking up but also gets him a bit tipsier than he’d expected.

Lana decides to scavenge for materials with which to create molotov cocktails, but in doing so, knocks a bottle off the shelf- which smashes right on top of the corpse. Which groans, gets up, and begins clawing at Dog. Whoops.

After a brief scuffle in the cramped stall, Dog makes a plan. He and Lana run outside, Dent grabs a fancy fruit (gotta have some snacks for the road!), and before the shambling corpse can follow them, Dog fires a flare right into the bar. The alcohol ignites just as planned, engulfing the bar in flames. 

https://uncannyspheres.blogspot.com/

As the bar explodes, the flaming corpse comes stumbling out and lunges towards the crew… before flopping harmlessly onto the ground, burnt to a crisp. However, the explosion caught the attention of the security androids (which Lana confirms with a quick check of their HUD), so the crew figure they’d better hide for a bit until they can safely make it across the pool area and reach the main Resort lobby.

Looking around, they see a bandstand that could offer them some cover. They can hear low sobbing and the sound of jazz music from within, but lacking better options, they decide to make a break for it. Running at top speed, Dog slips and falls into one of the pools, finding it to be boiling hot, but luckily Lana hauls him out before he gets hurt too badly. The crew arrive at the bandstand just as androids begin to close in around them. Flipping through the security cameras, Lana realizes that the security androids see themself and Dog as weird blobby creatures as well (Dent just looks normal). 

Diving into the dark, shadowy bandshell, the crew discover the source of the music- an awful jumbled mass of limbs, faces, and musical instruments, playing some lovely bossa nova. It doesn’t seem to care that they’ve entered the bandshell, but the security androids give the place a wide berth, apparently unwilling to approach. Dog tosses his flashlight into the blob’s saxophone, making it look as though the crew are still moving around in there with the light, and the crew escape through the back.

An android lies face-down on the ground behind the bandshell, its memory cores apparently removed. The crew decide to ignore it and just get out of here, and they sneak into the lobby safely thanks to their effective decoy. 

Once there, they’re greeted by a grisly scene. With Lana guarding their hiding spot behind a spiral staircase, Dog climbs up to get a better vantage point. The place is swarming with more shambling, grotesque people, the target is nowhere to be found and the lobby looks like the scene of a fight, with sprays of blood along the walls leading to the Moonwalk Cocktail Bar (where the crew previously saw the corpses of a few of the Syndicate bosses).

Carefully making their way into the bar, the crew find the corpses they expected, but also a few more people. The bartender (who, upon closer examination, is definitely also a dead guy) is just standing behind the bar while an injured young man sits at the bar, drunkenly sobbing. Dog decides to sit down with the young man and see what his deal is. He decides to get another drink to avoid raising suspicion and orders the most touristy-looking drink available, a bright-green martini, but the bartender makes a gin fizz with blue curacao instead. It’s tasty and makes him feel at ease, which is good because Dog had been racking up the Stress lately.

Meanwhile, Lana scans the security cameras and manages to spot their target again. Now they’re fleeing down the hallway of the 2nd floor of the Resort’s rooms. Striking up a conversation with the young man, Dog realizes that he’s another Syndicate-affiliated target of theirs; however, the man refuses to come along with the crew, insistent that he’ll be killed once the Syndicate finds out what he’s done (the exact nature of his transgression is not apparent). Dog reassures him that they’ll bring him somewhere safe while making a ‘we’re getting paid’ gesture towards Lana behind his back. So with the young man in tow, the crew prepare to rescue their next target from horrors unknown….

EarthBound meets GLOG

GLOG classes and a sketch of a ruleset for an adventure that’s strange, funny, and heartrending.

A few differences from normal GLOG, and random notes, for this as-of-yet unnamed hack:

• PSI-using classes do not expand their spell lists upon levelling up. Instead, they learn new powers by adventuring in the world, visiting inspiring and beautiful locations, and learning new things from people. When a new psychic power, or PSI, is first acquired it is fairly weak but over time you can improve your spells, also through diegetic means. I might replace the standard stats with more thematic ones, but PSI will likely be cast with the WIS-equivalent stat.
• The ‘spell slot’/PSI slot system will likely be similar to this one from Archon’s Court
• Nobody in the party can die. However, if they would normally die, they instead break their leg or something like that and need to go rest in a hospital for a while, effectively removing them as a playable character for 2d6 months. Generally, defeated foes are knocked unconscious.
• Armor, usually in the form of a bulletproof vest, is expensive and optional, and always confers a flat +4 defense.
• The ‘rolling HP’ system will be incorporated somehow.
• There will be a d100 table for effects of the Psychic Kid praying.
• Characters start with d10 dollars.
• A party can only have one character of each class. Kids are generally preteens except for the Tough Cookie who is teenage. An adventuring party cannot include adult humans, only kids, animals and weird creatures.
• Strictly formal adventure goals (get the 8 melodies, pull 7 needles, beat this specific big bad guy, etc) but in a sandbox environment.

And now, some classes. 

Brave Kid

Start with a baseball cap, striped shirt, and 2 of these, rolled randomly: 1. baseball bat 2. yo-yo 3. doggy friend 4. walkie-talkies 5. RC car 6. cheap electric guitar 7. light-up sneakers 8. FM radio

When you have a meaningful experience, you may learn one new PSI, or advance a PSI you already have to its next rank.

1. +1 PSI slot, Nostalgic Spirit, Caring

2. +1 PSI slot, Adventurer

3. +1 PSI slot, Childhood Memories

4. +1 PSI slot, True Hero

Nostalgic Spirit- Your unique PSI, Spirit, draws on memories of your favorite thing. Cast a ray that hits everybody in front of you for 20 feet, for 1d6 base damage.

Caring- When an ally would take enough damage to remove them from the adventure, psychically shield them and take the damage yourself. 

Adventurer- For every meaningful experience you’ve had, Spirit’s damage increases by +1.

Childhood Memories- Spirit’s base damage increases to 1d10. In the presence of your favorite thing, you are immune to mental effects that involve fear and confusion.

True Hero- 1/day, deliver a speech to your companions to inspire them to keep on going! Everybody heals 1d4 damage, regains one PSI slot, and any skill they have with a ‘1/day’ cooldown is usable again.

Psychic Kid

Start with 2 of these: 1. neatly-folded Sunday-best clothes 2. handkerchief for nosebleeds 3. book of etiquette 4. toy katana 5. teddy bear (can soak up damage instead of you, destroyed at 10 damage) 6. religious amulet 7. little fancy soap 8. cute backpack (1 extra inventory slot)

When you have a meaningful experience, you may learn two new PSI, or advance your PSI to their next ranks.

1. +1 PSI slot, Natural Psychic, Divine Gift

2. +1 PSI slot, Power of Friendship

3. +1 PSI slot, Super Psychic

4. +1 PSI slot, Psychic Intuition

Natural Psychic- You know 3 random first-rank PSI from the list.

Divine Gift- You can Pray. If you are within 50 feet of danger, you know it immediately.

Power of Friendship- Telepathically send (but not receive) a message to any other kid or ally within a mile’s radius.

Super Psychic- Learn three new PSI from the list, or advance PSI to their next ranks.

Psychic Intuition- Pass a wisdom test and you can do one of the following:

• Learn the general location (such as what town) of any one person or thing

• Gain an insight as to the nature of a mysterious or otherworldly force

• Determine the effect of one small action (ie ‘what would happen if I opened that door?’)

Tough Cookie

Start with 2 of these: 1. skateboard 2. grouchy pet iguana 3. learner’s permit 4. pack of cigarettes 5. treasured childhood memento 6. really cool sunglasses 7. fake ID to buy beer 8. razor comb

When you have a meaningful experience, you may learn one new PSI, or advance a PSI you already have to its next rank.

1. +1 PSI slot, Thunderstruck, Won’t Get Fooled Again

2. +1 PSI slot, We Will Rock You

3. +1 PSI slot, Leader of the Pack

4. +1 PSI slot, Seven Nation Army

Thunderstruck- Unarmed attack does 1d6 + STR mod damage.

Won’t Get Fooled Again- 1/day, negate a single PSI aimed at you.

We Will Rock You- When making a CHA test to intimidate somebody, subtract your STR mod from your roll.

Leader of the Pack- Your PSI negation can affect a PSI aimed at either an ally or yourself.

Seven Nation Army- When attacking somebody who is intimidated or afraid of you, all attacks are dealt as though you have rolled maximum damage.

Kid Genius

Start with 2 of these: 1. homework 2. stink bomb 3. water gun 4. thick glasses 5. laser pointer 6. fountain pen 7. inhaler 8. abacus

1. +1 Repair Die (d4), Study, Repair

2. +1 Repair Die (d4), Innovative

3. +1 Repair Die (d4), Right Tools for the Job

4. +1 Repair Die (d4), Quantum Mechanic

Study- As an action, learn somebody’s stats and a PSI weakness if they have one.

Repair- 1/day, fix a broken machine. Roll as many of your Repair Dice as you want, add, and consult the Repair Table. A die that rolls a 1 is instead treated as -1 against the total.

Innovative- In a skill test where your inventions aid you, subtract your INT mod.

Right Tools for the Job- After rolling Repair Dice, pay $10 x the number of dice you rolled to reroll a die. Pay again to reroll another die, as many times as you want. 

Quantum Mechanic- After rolling Repair Dice, pay $20 x the number of dice you rolled to change a die to any number. Pay the fee again to change multiple dice.

-4	Hostile Robot
-3	Explosion (3d6 dmg)	7	Shield Piercer
-2	Explosion (2d6 dmg)	8	Counter-PSI Unit
-1	Explosion (1d6 dmg)	9	Crushing Pincer
0	Nothing at all	10	Laser Beam
1	Sticky Armor	11	Gaia Gun
2	Stinkbomb Launcher	12	INT Booster
3	Zap Beam	13	Mecha-Armor
4	Slime Generator	14	Big Bad Laser
5	Forgery Engine	15	Robot
6	Bottle Rocket	16	Death Ray

A few more classes I plan to write include a Cub Scout, a Sneak, a Robot and a Young Alien.

Crewmember Retirement and Roguelike Progression in Mothership

When the crew is in port, a player may decide to retire their current crewmember and start over at level 0. Here’s the rules:

• It has to be a friendly port. If everybody hates you, you can’t retire there.
• A retired crewmember is no longer playable, and instead becomes an NPC. Their money and Stress will affect the kind of life they lead as an NPC.
• Retirement does not necessarily mean ‘doing nothing for the rest of your life’, but instead adopting a safer, less risky lifestyle. For instance, a retired crewmember may settle down with a menial job and start a family.
• If the Warden brings back a retired crewmember you used to control as an NPC, you may discuss their role with the Warden to ensure they are acting in-character.
• If circumstances affecting a crewmember’s quality of life are not dealt with, they may cause a drastically less peaceful retirement. A crewmember being actively hunted down by foes would do well to deal with those foes before retiring, for example.
• A retired crewmember can come out of retirement at any time but they’ll be reset to level zero- they’ve gotten rusty.

A crewmember’s total amount of money upon retiring affects their lifestyle. If they have any outstanding debts, subtract them from their funds. If the crew holds their funds communally, a retiring crewmember must negotiate their percentage with the rest of the crew (or steal the money). Relevant storyline factors (very wealthy benefactors willing to help out, etc) can be included in the total money calculation at the Warden’s discretion.

• Negative 25+ mcr: Utterly wretched poverty, debtor’s prison, or even worse.
• Negative 10-24mcr: Poverty, or worse if the entity to whom they owe their debt is vindictive.
• 0 to negative 10mcr: Poor, but able to eke out an existence.
• 1cr to 999kcr: A comfortable life, if not a luxurious one.
• 1mcr to 499mcr: A comfortable life, able to afford an occasional extravagance.
• 500-999mcr: Able to afford a decadent lifestyle and finance large-scale personal projects of their choosing.
• Over 1000mcr: Filthy rich, enough to be considered a major, setting-wide power.

This being Mothership, it’s far easier to fall into poverty than to get rich.

A crewmember’s Stress upon retiring affects their overall state of mind during their retirement. It's totally fine to reduce Stress right before retiring, but large-scale Stress reduction can be expensive.

• 0: Optimistic and at peace with their lot in life. Things generally tend to work out well for them.
• 1-5: Well-adjusted and able to put the horrors they’ve faced behind them.
• 6-10: A bit jumpy, tends to be distrustful, but not so bad that it gets in the way of day-to-day life.
• 11-15: On the bad days, they can’t stop thinking of the things they’ve seen. On good days, they can put it out of their mind.
• 16-20: Haunted by the past. Never quite at ease. Probably keeps has a weapon close at hand at all times.
• Over 20: Completely traumatized. Difficulty reintegrating into civilian life. Constant nightmares, intense paranoia.

After retiring a crewmember, a player may take ONE of these boons when creating their new crewmember (some may require the player to have an in-story explanation):

• One unique piece of gear from the retired crewmember.
• One skill of any level that the retired crewmember had.
• One-quarter of the amount of funds the retired crewmember ended up with (this takes those funds away from the retired crewmember).
• One stat that the retired crewmember had, or reroll any one stat during character creation.

If the retired crewmember had negative funds or over 20 stress, the new crewmember doesn’t get a boon. If the retired crewmember had over 500mcr AND zero stress, the new crewmember may choose two boons.

EDIT:

I’ve decided to rework how the boons are assigned. Here are a few principles I’m keeping in mind while doing it:

1. The boons should reward a skilled player for retiring a character.
2. The boons should take into account a character’s funds, stress, and level upon retirement.
3. The system for assigning boons needs to be simple because actually retiring a character is rare- most die instead. A game system players rarely interact with should be lightweight.
4. You should roll a die at some point during the retirement process because rolling dice is fun.

So here’s what I’ve come up with:

Roll Xd10, where X is the retiring character’s level, and compare it to the Retirement table. Yes, this means that retiring a level-0 character is pointless. If the character’s total money is negative or their Stress is over 20, roll [-]. If their total money is over 500 mcr or their Stress is 0, roll [+].

1-5	No boons.
6-20	New character gets to choose between getting 1/8 of the retiring character’s funds, one piece of their gear, or one of their Trained skills.
21-45	Choose between getting ¼ of the retiring character’s funds, two pieces of their gear, or any one of their skills.
46-60	Choose two: getting ¼ of the retiring character’s funds, two pieces of their gear, or any one of their skills.

Mothership Space Station in an Hour and a Half

Today I decided to make a space station for my Mothership game, using the random tables in the published module A Pound of Flesh. This post has my stream-of-consciousness hour-and-a-half-long design process and a fully detailed space station at the end- feel free to use it in your own game! First I rolled up some basic info about my station, which took about five minutes….

"Out on the rim, near an uninhabitable desert planet, the Marut’s Sword station (call-sign Control-82) spins. It’s outwardly controlled by The Apostles Gate Church, though is subtly undermined by Armadyne Weapons, Inc., led by a renegade android. There’s a 20% chance the station is dealing with a refugee crisis, otherwise everything is fine and you can buy fuel as per normal, but they are currently only offering warp cores for sale and there’s a rumor going around that the station is in dire need of out-of-work scientists.

It’s a tower- a station with an angular or blocky design, like a skyscraper flung into space. It’s got low security, so there’s plenty of thieving and skullduggery and so forth.

The Marut’s Sword has eight significant locations:

1. Defensive Weaponry

2. Cellarium

3. School/Training Facilities

4. Ore Trade/refinery

5. Food Court

6. Ablution fountains

7. Massive statue

8. Weapons Fabrication"

IMO, I could stop here and run the rest off basic sci-fi tropes and a few details of my own setting, and still have a unique, memorable space station. But I like to put my own spin on things, so I’ll spend a little bit of time fleshing out the Marut’s Sword as a fully-fledged adventure site.

The First Mission to the Andromeda Luxury Resort and Spa

I’m working on a third-party Mothership pamphlet module and had a great playest last wekk; we’re going to continue the adventure with this group, and I also plan to playtest with another group as well.

The level-zero crew consisted of:

@Volkovy, playing "Dog" Fairbanks, an ex-construction teamster.

@Burrbank playing Lana Zephyr, Marine. Top of their class but new to field work.

@Face_Fisted playing Dent, a vat-grown droid with strange eyes like Riddick.

The introductory text I provided them with, in full:

“You're a group of guns-for-hire who’ve fallen in with a small organized crime group, the Rivo Alto Syndicate. The Syndicate’s bosses and their bodyguards were at the Andromeda Luxury Resort and Spa for some low-risk negotiations yesterday when all communications between the resort and the outside world ceased. 

Your job is to go to the Resort, find the Rivo Alto bosses, and get them to safety if necessary. The monetary reward offered by the remaining Syndicate leadership is substantial, and should you happen across any of the legendarily decadent Resort’s stores of wealth, they don’t mind if you grab a few souvenirs. They’ve provided you with a ship- a 55-hull version of the Hunter from the PSG- and fine clothes to blend in at the Resort in addition to your usual loadout gear.

According to your mission briefing, the Resort is the only settlement on a small tropical moon called Calle-8. Its atmosphere is toxic but the Resort is contained within a climate-controlled geode with breathable air. You’ve been given a map based on the Resort’s own promotional materials, and datafiles on the missing Syndicate members so you’ll be able to recognize them.

Randomly roll up your stats, trinket and patch, pick out a class, skills and loadout, and prepare for your arrival on Calle-8, where your mission awaits you….”

The map I gave the players.

The crew approach Calle-8 (somewhat amused along the way by the automated piloting software’s goofy graphics), noticing that oddly enough, no security scans sweep their ship as they enter the semi-permeable geodome around the Resort. From far above they spot patches of red on the white pool deck, and don’t see anybody outside on the ground.

Dent runs some scans, determining that the geodome’s security scanners are down and that the only lifeforms in the area are humans and androids- though in the middle of the resort there’s a tiny but unexplained amount of radiation, although not enough to be harmful. Meanwhile, Lana and Dog prep for their landing; they’ve decided to land at Staffing’s cargo dock in the hopes that they’ll be able to use tools from Security or Admin to track their bosses down.

They land, logged by an automated computer terminal, and Dog scans local comms channels as the crew leaves the ship. He finds two separate encrypted channels-one is Rivo Alto, the other isn't immediately identifiable. Also, it seems that no comms have been sent on any channel since yesterday. Dent fails to hack into the mystery channel and instead alerts its owners of the hacking attempt.

As they all step offboard, they hear a faint, metallic voice from inside a nearby shipping container, big enough to walk into. It calls for help and beeps out an SOS. Everyone’s SMGs at the ready, Dog aims his flashlight into the jumbled shipping container, seeing a humanoid figure behind crates of rare fruits. Asked to identify itself, the figure claims to have been scavenged for parts (having its memory cores taken and its leg disabled), so it has no memory and can’t move. The distrustful crew toss a roll of gauze into the shipping crate, shut it, and move on. civilians. Dent tells it they’ll return, though.

They go towards the Admin entrance to the main utility building but find a group of five tall, poised people wearing white caftans and holding guns standing around the door, not speaking or moving. Before getting close enough to alert them, the crew instead decide to enter Security through the main entrance so they can find their extraction target. 

Upon entrance, a side door leads to 'SECURITY' and a main hallway to 'DROID RECHARGE HABS'; Dent quickly scans and determines that the building is full of droids. Footsteps approach from the Security hallway- Lana gets into a diagonal firing position, Dent takes cover with his SMG and Dog hides behind the corner of the hallway with his vibechete ready.

Two more of those tall droids wearing white step out. Their expressions are blank. Lana tells them to put their hands up, although they appear unarmed; the one in front sneers and informs the crew that something called ‘Flagler’, which controls them to some extent and helps humans run the resort, sends its regards and hopes they are enjoying the resort. They claim to pose no threat, suggest Lana and Dog drop their weapons and go relax at the spa, and tell Dent to get back to work and stop hanging around humans.

An illustration of the encounter. Credit: https://uncannyspheres.blogspot.com/

Dent tells the droids that they’d better put their hands up like Lana said, they don’t, and one pulls out a transmitter. Dog jumps out and chops its arm off. Dent snatches the transmitter and finding that it’s already broadcasting its location to other transmitters all over the Resort, so he smashes it. The unharmed droid retreats down the Security hallway but the injured one starts spouting wellness jargon, suggesting that a back massage would be helpful for such violent, unsettled people. 

The crew hear backup approaching from the Habs, so they push past the injured droid towards Security. They come to a locked door with a keycard reader, and peer through the door’s window to see see a large room full of monitors with security feeds- oddly, they seem to be taken from moving cameras at eye-level.  As they watch, they see one of the cameras enter a luxurious hotel room. A mass of writhing tumors is inside, oozing blood all over the floor. 

Dent suggests that the problem at the Resort is more than just a lack of staff, and although Lana fails to kick the door down, they draw the attention of three armed droids in Security in the process, who open the door to confront the crew. Pressed up against the wall to hide, they manage to shoot one’s arm mostly off as the droids come through the door. 

In unison, the three of them say, "Flagler doesn't want it to have to come to this. Guests aren't allowed in this area." The droids ones prepare to attack, but acting fast, Dent shoots another one’s arm off. One hits Dent with a stun baton but he crits on his Body save to avoid paralysis, so instead, it revitalizes him and gives him [+] on his next roll. Continuing their tried-and-true strategy of blasting their arms off, the party manage to fend off the droids, who retreat 

further into Security.

Dog watches the screens some more to look for the bosses. He sees that a corpse resembling one of them is slumped over in the Bar but gets stressed out by seeing all those awful tumorous lumps. 

Lana decides to hack in and sync the security feeds to their HUD so they can view them at any time. They notice a feed where one of the cameras exits a normal, elegant elevator, and steps out into a glitchy void. Lana looks closer into the security footage and notices that each individual viewpoint is labeled from an origin following the template 'EMPLOYEE #XXX'. They continue flipping through the nightmarish feeds, trying to find the guy in the shipping crate. Meanwhile, Dent searches the records and finds a digital log of guest IDs and their room numbers, but no info as to who each ID refers to. And Dog wants to get back to the ship, fire off a flare to alert any surviving Rivo Alto bosses to get over there quickly, and get out of this creepy place.

And with that, our session ended. We’re going to continue soon. I’ve already learned a lot from this first playtest session that I’ll use to refine my adventure further.

Failed Careers for Mothership

Recently over in the Mothership discord I shared a pdf that details some interesting spects of my Mothership campaign setting, as well as my d100 failed careers table. 

Roll 1d100 during character creation for a failed career, most of which are affiliated with various galaxy-wide factions. When leveraging expertise from this career to aid a skill check, a crewmember may add +5% to their roll. This is enough to make the player feel that the background is meaningful, but not enough that it is actually very helpful (these are failed careers, they can’t have been very good at them). The careers failed so catastrophically that a crewmember would be unable to return to that line of work and retains no friendly contacts or resources from it; in fact they may have enemies.

I use these debt rules and start my players off with nothing but their ship, trinkets and starting loadouts; adjust accordingly based on the starting circumstances for your own players.

Upon starting the game, the crew are in a terrible situation. They have a used starship that’s ready to fall apart, but otherwise they’re flat broke. The crew have a Debt rating equal to the ship’s hull, owed to an agent of one of the following factions:

The Interplanetary League. Official, chrome-and-gray, repressive. Ideals are Law & Order, Peace Via Surveillance and Good Old-Fashioned Values. All-powerful in the hubward systems, nearly nonexistent in the furthest rimward reaches. Rife with corruption, bends to the will of Imperial-Class Corporate Interests but does not tolerate outright threats. Publicly wants to eliminate Organized Crime Syndicates but too deeply blackmailed to try anything. Bankrolls Jumpgate Hyperspace Cults but also keeps tabs on them to prevent insurrection.

Imperial-Class Corporate Interests. Corporations so old and established that they have become the empires of the future; beautiful androids carry CEOs on palanquins and directorial boards act as a royal court aboard palatial space stations. Quietly in control of the Interplanetary League. Unbearable bloodlust towards Organized Crime Syndicates. Want to infiltrate and take control of the Jumpgate Hyperspace Cults.

Organized Crime Syndicates. Mobsters, gangs, cartels. The expansion of humanity to beyond the stars has provided a ‘shadow government’ of loosely-defined organized crime groups to seize power in the galaxy’s rimward systems. Constant infighting and regime changes but most rule fairly to prevent population uprisings. Reams of blackmail on the Interplanetary League, quiet alliance with Jumpgate Hyperspace Cults, total warfare against Imperial-Class Corporate Interests.

Jumpgate Hyperspace Cults. Thruster-based space travel is slow and jump drives are unpredictable and finicky. Jumpgates, massive spaceborne docks that allow for transportation from one gate to another, are near-instantaneous and reliable, but acquiring a license to travel through them from the Interplanetary League is incredibly expensive. They are constructed through proprietary methods and maintained by star-touched cultists whose prophets induce madness by entering jumpgates without cryostasis, though for practical purposes the cults employ many nonbelievers. Protected and bankrolled by the Interplanetary League, under constant threat of replacement by Imperial-Class Corporate Interests, often offered under-the-table protection in exchange for forged licenses by Organized Crime Syndicates.

The crew may choose which faction they owe their debt to; all are equally ruthless in ensuring payment.