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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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Been a while since I've seen one of these threads. What are some decent quirks of design or acquired eccentricities I could give the ship my group will be operating? I remember a good one being a horn in the nose of a ship which has no transatmospheric capabilities, and a honk.wav file for it. Any others?
due to legal requirements of a complicated court ruling the ships chief engineer is legally bound to never move more than 50 meters outside and away from the ships hull.

if caught outside the permitted area the ships captain is subject to several large fines
There's a patch of several strips of duct tape stuck together which is apparently critical to the continued functioning of the life support systems.

The long-term communication systems make dial-up sounds.

All the doors either slide open automatically or they're double-hinged so they can be pushed either way. Except for the door to the starboard observation deck, which has to be pulled open. People keep running into it as a result.
The ship has a built-in radio. It plays fm and am.

Ship to ship communication is handled with third-party hardware. There is no decent way to install it into the ship.

On the other hand, the fm stations do come in pretty clear.
The ship's freezer has an issue, and builds up ice over time. This requires frequent maintenance, and occasional defrost cycles.
Nobody's done either for a while, and the floor plates are a mess of scarring from where someone has been clearing the ice with a shovel.

The auto-translator only translates into Latin. So far, it has proven easier for the communications officer to learn Latin than to reprogram it.

The warp drive was made by a company that was shut down for tax evasion half a century ago. The manual is a printout of a scan of a photocopy of the original manual, laminated and hanging from a hook over the maintenance bay.

The life support system has a still built into it, and produces extra-strength moonshine as a byproduct of operation.

The planetary rover has so many axles and so many points of articulation that it's impossible to reverse. On lower-gravity worlds, it's actually easier to get out, lift it up, and turn it around by hand.

When fully loaded, the ship is incapable of making a vertical takeoff. It requires a few miles of runway, or at least relatively flat ground to get a takeoff run.

Dropping out of warp makes noises like the back half of the ship has detached, and lurches like it too. New passengers tend to be startled by that.

Any system that can be replaced by one that doesn't use consumables has been. Even if they're less effective. A previous owner was serious about being frugal, to the point where you have airbrakes instead of drogue chutes. Landing in thinner atmospheres often takes a few trips around the planet to lose speed.

The power plant and engine are still fission-based.
The ship's galley sits on one of the thermal vents for the ship's reactor.

The ship draws hot water from the coolant system. If the ship is overheating, the best thing to do is flush the toilet and run the showers.

The second best thing to do is make cookies.
The ship is a rickety tramp hauler but the A.I. was replaced with a salvaged module from a Naval Battleship. The A.I. still hasn't realized this.
For some reason the ship's security systems will actively prevent any males from boarding the ship. This forces the crew to cross-dress in order to run the ship. They put up with it because the ship is fast and well armed.
...this actually sounds a little breakable.

the military AI might know how to bypass safety protocols or pre programmed port procedures if doing so might "defend the crew" or "complete the mission"

but the ship requesting "maintenance on all weapons batteries" from the star-port computers every time it comes in to dock might be odd.


even in deep space?

thats some borderline SCP shit right there
>even in deep space?
Pirate radio stations beam in all directions to reach a wider audience. No matter where you are in populated space, there's an FM transmission able to be picked up. And best of all, if you just catch the end of your favourite song, you're only a short FTL jump away from the beginning.
diffusion and interference means that you wouldn't be able to pick that stuff up on even a very sensitive radio at deep space distances...
A namefag AND a buzzkill. Who'da thunk?
...I was pointing out a thing that might be cool for a slightly spoopy encounter.

a voice over the radio when there should be nothing. signals out in the black.
>Guys crossdress to please their amazon dominatrix of a ship
>Dare you enter my magical realm?
I was thinking more like the ship will plot a head on course against a heavily armed pirateship thinking its non existent thick armor will protect it.
That's why they use lots of power, and bounce it off local relays if possible.
The broadcasts are sent alongside something akin to numbers stations, which use modulated radio signals to inject code into relay buoys so they'll repeat the signal and boost it.
Wholly illegal, of course, but the system just keeps re-infecting, even decades after the original station was shut down.

Combine >>50968338 and >>50968364 for even more fun, I say.
The computer was salvaged from the navy of the Amazon Planet.
also that yes I suspect.

perhaps best if the AI was salvaged out of a foreign or even alien polity vessel...so it also speaks a different language.
The ship was a salvaged 30,000 old alien explorer vessel found drifting in space. The A.I. is lonely and suffers 'depression' longing for her long dead companions. It copes by singing sad songs.
Something inspired by ST:VOY Year of Hell. The ship encountered a space anomaly that allows it to assume the infinite configurations from other timelines. This ability can be triggered once per day but the outcome is random and temporary. You might end up as a huge planet killer or as a lifeboat for example.
The emergency escape pods randomly eject themselves, causing all sorts of nightmares especially when docked
This ship was built by a race with a highly efficient digestive system.

There are no bathrooms.
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The ship is actually a retired Q-Boat. Once a capacious freighter vessel, the pop-bead chain of cargo units which comprise the midsection of the vessel have been extensively modified to utilize every inch of interior space for missile racks, with the sides hinging open to expose them. While it worked very well at blapping unsuspecting pirates with a hail of nuclear fire, the PC's will be challenged in finding work with such an unconventional vessel. A refit would be prohibitively expensive.

The ship has a rare luxury: An autodoc. However, it is a stolen black market model. While this means the ship needs no medic, and it is an entirely serviceable autodoc unit for routine operations, it can be difficult to explain to passengers why it has so many options for illegal surgeries such as organ harvesting and prohibited augmentations. They also tend to be disturbed upon finding its Hippocratic protocol has been scrubbed, enabling it to perform operations which will result in patient death. It would be bad if customs noticed any of these things.

The ship was formerly used for drug smuggling, and came very cheap after its old crew was incarcerated after being caught, the vessel seized and put up for auction. However, there are drugs still hidden in every nook and cranny of the ship. This not only poses a risk if customs somehow finds some, but every now and then some baggie, capsule, or ampoule hidden deep within the ventilation system will be dislodged and fall into the fans, dispersing a random narcotic into the air. As this tends to occur more often in moments of severe jostling, this creates a problematic situation where combat suddenly becomes complicated by a whopping dose of hallucinogens dumped into the air.
>this creates a problematic situation where combat suddenly becomes complicated by a whopping dose of hallucinogens dumped into the air.
Or aerobraking. Or takeoffs.
Really, whenever you least want it.
At least one weapons system is sentient and believes you are false data. Talking this weapons system out of activating is a routine chore.
The vacc suits are ancient and have muffin tins attached to the chest as part of a patch someone rigged up a few decades back. The crew grew fond of the clunky suits and reject any suggestion that they be replaced by something from this century.

I mean, they seem safe enough, the patches are very solid.
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Pic related.

I'm just glad someone else appreciates Dark Star. <3
The AI has long since modified itself into a heavily armed battleship and is violently overprotective of its new crew. The AI won't say what happened to its old crew, but insists that it won't let it happen again.
The intruder alarms, bioscanners and atmosphere readers are all powered by AAA-Batteries or their equivalent. When the batteries die the alarms start going off. Said batteries are difficult to find due to their age.
>The A.I. is lonely and suffers 'depression' longing for her long dead companions. It copes by singing sad songs.


Or alternately,

You are a new crewman and sign on to an old, but well maintained ship. Surprisingly, the mortgage has been paid off and whatever the crew is doing seems to be profitable. You stay at your station most of the time, especially during the rather drastic maneuvers the ship goes through around the middle of most voyages. But whenever you put into port you notice the crew has new stuff to sell which wasn't on board when you set out. What gives?
>They also tend to be disturbed upon finding its Hippocratic protocol has been scrubbed, enabling it to perform operations which will result in patient death.
Worse still, the risk-taking treatment options it can - without informing anyone - take during surgery tend to result in above-average outcomes.

With that in mind, fixing the bot is a nuanced decision.
There's a small shrine tucked away in the most obscure recesses of the ship, devoted to some deity no-one's ever heard of.

Small acts of prayer and thanks towards it make you feel better about life, the universe, and everything. Things seem to go a little better for you, but that's probably just because you're happier.
The ship possess a junior engineer nobody knows exists, because she logged in with the night shift in engineering because she's shy and lives in a small recess, sleeping on a hammock and cooking food off a thermal exhaust manifold.
Every crewmember who's died in the line of duty, and any ex-crewmembers who request it, have been cremated and their ashes stored in a unique gargoyle-style decoration, peering down from the abnormally wide & tall main corridor of the ship, glaring (benevolently?) from the corners of common areas, or decorating the bridge.

If no ashes were available, a ship's cat or other useful small animal would be acquired and named in their honour, being cremated upon its death to fill the space.
Owned by a paranoid shipping magnate, this capacious space yacht has unusually dense and resonant hull structure. This is almost entirely to defeat detailed scanning of the interior and to help disguise the fact there's a concealed weapon rack in every area. They've been found, tagged and emptied in 40% of the ship.
It was a large freighter designed for containerised cargo. Some serious accidents left it without a bridge, engineering section, crew section, shuttle bay... but hey, the main cargo framework is intact! Just mount some containers with in-built life support, link them up, and you've got a floating brick composed of standardised shipping containers. There are two direct fore-aft chains running the length of the ship to provide access to containers with ship components rather than cargo, some containerised engines, sensors and living space, but mostly it's just a giant floating mass of cargo containers.
>a ship's cat
The ship's cat takes random dislikes to people. Like the navigator. Vicious, mean-spirited dislik, that often involves claws and teeth and leaping from air vents.
You screwed the grilles back on, but this cat is polydactyl. It has THUMBS, and undid them.

The cat came with the ship, and you don't know where it sleeps half the time. The other half, it's on the captain's chair that nobody else dare use if it's on there, or on the engineer's bed, or in the engineer's clean laundry.
You tried just not feeding it, but it doesn't seem to rely on human feedings anyway. The ship's probably feeding it automatically.
You wanted to try 'accidentally' locking it in the airlock and flushing it, but it's a voidcat. Along with the thumbs and the claws that enable it to climb metal vents, it can withstand vacuum for a while. You suspect it's got increased intelligence as well.

The fact that the ship was in the cat's name was kind of telling. The crew said it was a way to dodge tax and liability, along with the ship being registered on Phobos despite the fact that terrorists flung that into the Pacific ocean ages ago, along with the space elevator attached to it.
>the ship being registered on Phobos
>the ship being registered on Deimos
>the ship being ex-UAC
when will people start noticing these giant red flags and getting the fuck out ASAP
The ship doesn't have a mess. Or staterooms. Or living quarters in general, although there is a decent head, shower & locker room. It does have a portal to an interdimensional inn where you can get some good food and hear weird stories from elves (and wizards, and robot crystal people from the distant future of another galaxy), get a cheap comfy room, and sit by a roaring fire. You can't get out of the inn to go anywhere else, though, you can only go back to the ship.
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A microscopic alien civilization has taken up residence somewhere in the ventilation system and occasionally sends tiny spaceships into the crew areas to scavenge for supplies. The ships do respond to radio transmissions, but so far nobody has been able to translate the language.
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There are plaques with this written on it located in multiple places within the ship.
That's a nice ship.
Similar thought to >>50968663

The ship is near constantly checking it's intercom systems, yet there's never any test noises coming out. The crew only finds out after shipping a colony of bats that the ship likes to sing to itself in a pitch so high that the crew don't hear her
The ship once carried the biggest pop sensation of the century on their most famous tour, and has fans - of the pop group, and a few of the ship - at every port.
After arriving at a common port, a stowaway droid arc-cuts it's way through an exterior hull section and escapes into the starport.
An investigation reveals a previous owner must have sealed the droid in there with a hook into the navigation systems and a delayed program to deliver itself on that planet.

What the hell did you just smuggle?

They sometimes try to get in, or carve their names on something.
The live album cover art was them doing a Beatles Abbey Road-style shot in your cargo bay. You might have to clear out the hold to get it right, but you can make a few quid letting people take their own shots there, or take selfies in the staterooms ONCE USED BY OH MY GOD I'M RIGHT HERE WHERE THEY WERE THIS IS AMAZING
Theres a pair of texan steer horns mounted above the captains seat in the main bridge, its laced with RFIDs and without its presence the ships computers refuse to boot, engines refuse to ignore and the comms array will not send or receive.
The ship is made from a hollowed out asteroid. This means it has terrible shear strength and integrity, but a lot of ablative mass and room for interior upgrades from mining away rock.
This might be the biggest fixer up in space, but you got a capital-class hull for a corvette investment.
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The deck department consists of uplifted primates, giving a new meaning to the phrase "Deck Apes". The Bosun would like it if people would stop leaving a yellow hat on his rack, thank you very much.
It's an AG-less ship, so no internal gravity. That wouldn't be *too* unusual, except it used to have gravity... and water. It was originally crewed by swimmers (dolphins, if you're using Uplift), so everything was designed with a gravity bias, and there are some quite complex ducting and sealing systems. It just got sold to some zero-g users who drained it, stripped out some stuff they didn't need, and happily float around all day in a nice cozy atmosphere.
An atmosphere-tight container in the cargo hold that isnt on any of the manifests opens to reveal several vintage airbikes/G-bikes in mint condition.

Several ex-members of the crew and revealed to be living inside the survival shelter stowed on the lower deck, surviving on scraps from the galley and processed nutrient.

The automated announcement system only speaks in languages other than english and never one language on a consistent basis.

During emergency repairs its revealed that the only thing in the emergency supply cabinet is a swiss army knife and roll of duct tape.

During routine maintenance on the ship's computer a technician finds 30, 600hour AOL Trials that have been granting internet access to the ship.
Heat sources more intense than an incense stick or tumble dryer trigger fire suppression systems. In some sections, this involves venting atmo.
All of the electrical systems were built using high temperature superconductors. They all work very well, but only if the average temperature in the crew compartment is kept below 120 Kelvin.
That's pretty awesome.

Here's an album that was posted in the thread that helped inspire the creation of the song.


My favorite from the album is Dawson's Christian.
The A.I installed to run navigation system is defiant and wants you to convince it to do whatever it is you want it to do
If it only runs navigation, that means I can threaten it with a hammer. Checkmate robo-scrub.
>leave an empty can on the table
>come back to find a toy-sized mining ship cutting it up for scrap
>aliens recognize you by now, don't seem to mind if you watch
>just don't touch the ship. The shields aren't dangerous but they are painful
This, but it's really just doing it for the attention, because it's incredibly bored/has a crush on someone, and it's the only way it knows how to get people to talk to it.
But then how are you gonna get to where you wanna go?
Slide rules and paper.
The ship has a glovebox mounted in the captains console that opens to reveal several ampules of laudanum.an unregistered needle pistol and a fake ID chit for "Sancho Sanchez",
You gonna calculate what speed you need to go in order to not hit anything as well as arrive to your destination in this millennia on paper?
If you can go to the moon with a slide rule you can go to another planet. It ain't rocket science,
I feel that this old clunker would have a lot of charm, right guys?
In the far future of mankind there is only Desert Bus: Space Edition.

I think it's RIPE for charm.
I was planning on having my party that I am DMing find this ship after crash landing, the various large cargo areas are going to have the remains of what were once homes in the abandoned ship.
>The backup AI is better in some ways, and worse in others


> After a while, you just stop using the recycling bins
> Instead, you take to just leaving recyclables in a taped-off area of the cargo hold to let the vent aliens take it
> You're not sure what they're building with all that scrap, but you hope they have something to do with all the maintenance that you scheduled a day to get on with, and then found it'd all been done
> Ship's cat ventured into the alien's territory, came out at speed being pursued by a small fleet
Due to hardware limitations at the time it was designed, the ship's AI has the intelligence and personality of a labrador retriever.
The ship's coffee machine was made my an alien species who's language has long been forgotten. Trying to get any coffee is essentially a gamble between the best espresso you've ever tasted, or a cupful of motor oil.
godamn it /tg/

now I wanna read about the adventures of the space borrowers
Wasn't there a /tg/ setting about the multi AU long ship and people living in the ducting? Sort of backwards, but relevant.
>dock at a spaceport for repairs
>decide to eat in the food court while they're fixing the fridge
>as you head back to the ship, you feel something drop into your pocket
>ducking into an alley, you reach in after it and pull out a chunky-looking cargo ship
>you don't remember bringing that with you
>realizing they've been caught, three more rise up out of your backpack
>as if to explain, one rolls over to show its belly, then opens its cargo bay
>two sachets of barbeque sauce
>they must have grabbed them while you were eating. No one on the ship eats barbeque sauce
Well, there's plenty of posts left before we hit the bump limit. I'll see what I can do for you, anon. I'm sure other writefags will join in.
> Send a probe into the vents to find those little fuckers and see what they're doing with all the scrap
> Probe gets a little way into the vents, then ambushed by a defensive fleet
> Obviously there to defend against the cat (which has never been into the vents since it's tail got lasered an inch shorter)
> Sneak the probe past them
> Camera feed suddenly cuts out
> They've spotted it
> Feed returns a little while later
> Probe is unresponsive, camera pointed at a sign made of macaroni
> You're pretty sure nobody bought macaroni
> The sign's in their language; all blobs and squiggles
> Shut the probe off after a while, figuring it means 'stop spying on us'.

> A few days later, the probe is sat on the dining table, cable unplugged and coiled next to it
> Scorchmarks all around it, like a tiny heavy-lift operation got it there.

> Decide it's time to learn to communicate
> Leave 'english for beginners' books in the taped area
> They're gone the next morning

> Preparing to dock at a small station way out in the Oort cloud.
> Wave of tiny ships flies out of a vent, shooing the helmsman away from the docking controls, and knock the molly guard back down over the button to start docking
> While you're still confused about what's going on, the station starts firing chunks of ice at you from it's mass driver
> Helmsman gets the controls back, and you GTFO.
> Chunks of ice that were embedded in the hull are gone come morning.
> Ice dispenser on the fridge is full to the brim
> Trays of ice in the freezer
> AC works way better than it used to
> Get the feeling that you're not actually the owner of the ship
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I was going to make a new thread but this might be the place to ask instead.

I want my players to get a outlaw star/ bebop home base ship. but id like for them to earn it so it means more to them and I can get an adventure or two out of it.

does anyone have any suggestions, I was thinking of something like and oceans eleven shipyard heist, but id love any ideas.
Have it promised to them as a reward for an extended quest.
When they get back with the macguffin of power, have the quest-giver screw them over, and require being chased down. The party then takes the ship they were promised after making him stick to his deal.
But there's one issue. It's in awful shape, and they have to get it fixed up by finding parts, and hauling cargo to pay for stuff.
yes please!
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Where did Halo go wrong, lore-wise?
id say after they decided to continue using MC after 3. kinda diminishes the grand "finish the fight" vibe they had going when the fights not finished.
Didn't they change the ancient aliens in the setting from being humans to, well, aliens?
I need some kind of comprehensive breakdown: there's elements of the lore I'd like to borrow from, I think.
a surprise inheritance, they are the last surviving relatives of a small shipyard company, almost all the inventory goes into liquidation to cover debts. they can potentially argue a ship as sole retained asset. if they chip in all of their personal savings

they were in a catastrophic space-port incident.
all the pods were disabled or taken, all they had left was an as yet unpainted, un-equipped, and un-supplied ship, fresh off the assembly line.

they won a small lottery.

they can afford a too small, NICE ship.

or they can afford a comfortably large space-clunker.

let the earning be in getting a large empty ship to be a comfortable living space

the ship is/was a pirate or smuggling vessel they stole.

it can forge it's own paperwork and signatures, but because of some certain reasons it cannot be reported as stolen.
>that pic
>port is the right


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Oh god I didn't look until you said anything, now I'm furious too!
thanks for the suggestions I really appreciate it. Ill probably start with the extended quest idea then cap it off with a catastrophic space-port incident and give them a few decent but "well used" options to choose from so they can upgrade customize and make it there own.

Which may or may not be the beloved ship of a medium to high member of one the crime syndicates, pirate guilds or military commander who REALLY wants their ship back.
actually, a way they could have several choices that are mostly stripped of equipment(and therefore not overpowered by default) would be an impound auction or government sale.

>local military puts it's technically functional derelicts in
>police seizures
>company fleet sales(my company did this with old trucks)

all of them stripped of illegal hardware of course, but still equipped with the odd slot or bracket or empty bay or smuggling compartment.

expensive, custom, or specialty hardware is usually removed and sold separately to maximize profit.

in a sale like that, all the vehicles(or at least most of them) are brought up to date on all maintenance, and inspected.

combined with a "full tank of gas to drive off with" that lots of those sales include means that the party will probably end up stealing something with the following traits
1.) fully fueled, and provisioned with atmosphere
2.) at best, only armed up to the limit allowed to civilians
3.) not equipped with any special features
4.) neatly combines "wanted by the police" and "wanted by the smuggling cartel/rich previous owner that owned it last time"
5.) fully inspected and equipped with all safety features
6.) likely to be particularly quirky
7.) starting out with a need for supplies like food, weapons, registration papers, advanced components, mattresses.
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that's actually a great idea thanks! I was wondering about when to really give them the ship but all this talk has given me a great plan. the first adventure/session assuming they succeed with net them a good bit of dosh and more importantly a bit of fame/notoriety this will catch the attention of a mysterious and shady benefactor to give them the quest for session 2.

in session 2 the party grabs the macguffin and goes to return it to the quest giver at the designated space station/space port/ auction impound lot only to get screwed over and a chase ensues, the macguffin activates causing problems now they need to escape thus they grab one of the ships and blast off.

congrats they now have a ship. it has no supplies and is probably wanted by the mob/pirates/police/military and or shady benefactor session 3 can focus on getting out of the contested space dodging whoever's after them and getting supplies and outfitting the ship.
>you don't mind a few stowaways, but you don't want to accidentally sit on one if it happens again
>buy a foam case and cut hatches so they can open it from inside
>put model ships in some of the compartments
>leave it outside the taped area a day before you're scheduled to land
>take it with you when you leave, then put it back as soon as you return
>the first two times, the case is empty
>the third time, a small warship decloaks and flies back into the vent when you open it
>the fourth time, one of the cargo ships is waiting when you pick it up
>this time the aliens have written something on the ship
>you don't know what it says but you hope it's something friendly
I ever run a game with space-travel and aliens this shit is going in there...

I wonder how much nutrient there is in a BBQ-sauce packet, or the fungus mat that grows in the air-ducts.

that and, could you eventually pull a "Harry Dresden the Pizza-Lord" with them....
Halo was good-tier sci-fi, everything went to meh after 3.
I read the books, never played the games. the science was comfortably firm for me to enjoy, and the story is just below my peak threshold for convolution.

is the answer to >>50994655

and a way they could have done that was having games(possibly whole trilogies) around the other SPARTANs and the SPARTAN-II and III troopers
>this time the aliens have written something on the ship
"Huh, it says RED DWARF."

although the bit where some nanobots shrunk red dwarf down and drove it around lister's laundry basket was from one of the later series, and early red dwarf was better.
>someone left an empty carton of soya milk in the kitchen
>they also left a miniature fusion cell inside
Due to a liability scam by the previous captain, the maintenance droid legally owns the ship.
Due to a liability scam by the maintenance droid, the ship's cook legally owns the ship. No-one has found out yet, and the droid is eagerly awaiting their reactions.
The ship's AI has actually achieved a measure of sentience, something hitherto unachieved and considered impossible. It's not malevolent, but it has been bending its efforts toward making sure the crew does not find out that it is self-aware for fear of what they would do.
For some reason the ship can transform into a giant robot. This mode serves no discernible purpose and the button has a large "DO NOT PRESS" label next to it.

After Reach, when they went all Power Rangers with the S-IVs. The Covenant remnants were alright, but the way the Forerunners were portrayed in game was annoying as hell.

I'd been a major Halo fan since my buddy brought his xbox over back in elementary school. Read all the books, the graphic novel, everything up until Reach came out. Beyond that it's garbage.

I don't touch it anymore.
I think Red Dwarf was at it's best in the middle. Early seasons, they were still finding their feet, and had no budget.
Late seasons, plenty of budget, no ideas.

> Pick up case
> It's heavy as fuck
> Leave it in a 'left luggage' area overnight
> Return next day, it's even heavier.
> Set case down in taped area, run away
> You feel you're better off not knowing what they took

> Sit down to lunch
> Called away for emergency halfway through
> Come back to find it being scanned
> Chase ships away, finish lunch

> Wake up in the middle of the night
> Wander to the kitchen for a snack
> Open fridge
> Cargo ship exits it as you open it, flashing lights as it orbits your head a few times, before heading for the nearest vent
> You figure it kind of got stuck in there
> The vegetable drawer has been cleared of decayed vegetable gunk and filled with barbecue sauce sachets

Due to a liability scam by the cook, the ship is now legally owned by you.
He sold it to you for a dollarpound.
You're starting to think you got the wrong end of the space-stick.
There's a dog living in the maze of air supply vents, which the ship's AI and internal sensors steadfastly refuse to recognize. Attempts to corner and evict the animal have all failed, and bringing it up with the AI only results in suggestions of shore leave and psych counseling.
How many quarts is enough quirks per ship?

I want to throw a couple in my players ship but I don't want it to lose its novelty and become trite.
depends on the severity of the quirk.

the borrowers would be a HUGE quirk.

but the legally mandated ships mechanic >>50966035
or the warp drive in >>50967925
would both be much smaller quirks

you have to look at the seriousness of the setting and make a judgement call

come on man. Metric System!
1-4, I'd say.

(revival bump)
>get an emergency call from the cargo bay
>something with very sharp claws has opened a locked crate from the inside and escaped into the air vents
>the crew's discussions are interrupted when a large alien warship flies up to your face and wiggles its wings
>after doing a quick circuit to get everyone's attention, it flies out into the corridor, then turns around and flashes its lights
>the ship leads you to the medical bay, and a vicious alien skull resting on the table
>the ship hovers above the skull and wiggles its wings again, then points its nose towards the ceiling and opens its weapon bays
>inside are four missiles the size of rifle bullets
>the ship does a slow turn to let everyone look, then closes its bays and files back into the vents
>you never find the rest of the body
The ships A.I only speaks Russian, Angry Russian. All attempts to wipe/change the language thus far have failed miserably

I plan to use a voiced machine translation on my phone to yell at them in Russian. and the only the characters that speak Russian get to see the English text.
the ship was bought used from a paranoid smuggler.

every room has no less than 5 secret compartments.
It was a very metal poor rock, but very solid at the same time.
Most of your interior space is still taken up by fuel and engines.

Dude, why do you keep quoting random people and then not replying? Did you have a stroke or something?
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This particular superfreighter used to be part of a covert mass breeding program of a xenos race.
Not all the automated artificial wombs were found, deactivated and removed.
Decks 4 contains an automated factory of seemingly infinite size. No one knows why it's there or what it does, but it doesn't seem to affect the ship's performance. Anything stored on deck 4 won't contribute to the ship's mass, but if it falls into the machinery you're not getting it back.
If you want to make one ship extra special, don't just focus on that one ship. Make all the other ones extra shitty.

First ship they get is a civilian cargo ship, and has no offensive capabilities, and only minimal shielding.
They get a new one made by the Gdan, who tend to have a "shields are for pussies - just blow everyone up before they attack" sorta strategy. It doesn't work.
Then they get a ship from a dodgy auction - it has decent weapons and shielding, but the storage is bizarre at best and unusable in a lot of places. They can't carry most of the loot they need. Turns out it's wanted by the police as it's a known drug, heavy weapon, and illegal corpse smuggling ship. It gets impounded.

Every ship they get is utter ass until they get their main ship. Don't get me wrong, this one isn't a life saver. It's had it's weapon capabilities limited by the government, the shields are in disrepair, it's speed is definitely lacking, and most of the control board has been sealed off by the police. But it has potential. It can be fixed. It gets better over time until it's the best ship in the galaxy.
That's how you make them love it
a good name for this "ship with potential"...Tabula Rasa

after a while the party will probably get enough disposable income to officially re-register it with a new name once they've "farted properly in all the chairs" and installed the majority of the systems they think of as "important".
>the aliens really like certain varieties of mushroom
>varieties that apparently can't be grown in air vents
The warp drive was designed for a ship with much larger radiators; to keep it from overheating, the engineer built a secondary water cooling system and used the air conditioner to draw away the excess steam.

The good news is the ship is a lot faster than it should be. The bad news is it rains constantly when the drive is on.
The main reactor is sentient. Through some statistical miracle, the superheated plasma has not only evolved into a functioning Boltzmann brain, but has learned to talk by vibrating the containment vessel.

Unfortunately, restarting the reactor would kill it. The previous engineer left a large notebook describing methods he developed for replacing critical components with the reactor still running.
This ship has two sapience level AI in charge of the systems, one for weapon systems and engines and the other for shields, comms and other ancillary systems.
The captain consider them both as his family.
> Woken up in the middle of the night by a strange noise
> Investigate
> Little ships are installing a scanner in the cargo airlock
> The nearest vent has an array of tally marks in two columns
> One column has one mark
> The other has thousands, all scorched into the hull metal by a laser
> The common room has a new painting
> It depicts a huge alien beast laying waste to a city
> While being attacked by warships and ground forces
>hazardous expedition
>leave the case on the ship
>a cargo ship catches you as you leave
>the ship deploys landing gear
>flies lower and bumps into your hand a few times
>you hear an alien voice in your radio
>hold out your hand
>the ship drops a small box in your palm before taking off
>the box has a small button, and an engraving of a man surrounded by a circle
>the ship is still there, looks like it's waiting
>press the button
>unmistakable shimmer as an energy shield surrounds your body
>the alien says something else, and the ship files away
If you follow the power cables, you will eventually find them plugged into some kind of embryonic space whale in the lower engineering decks. Whatever it is, it's producing enough electricity to power a small city.
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Prying off the floor paneling in some of the larger rooms reveals that the cabling has been altered into bizarre patterns; arcane mandalas of copper and rubber put there for some unknown purpose by one of the previous crews. (Or the manufacturer? No one knows.)
A sign in the engine room tells you not to panic if they catch fire - that just means the heat exchangers are working.
A second sign tells you to start panicking if the fire suppression doesn't kick in after five minutes.
Absolutely loving the space borrowers guys, keep it up
A new Hyperdrive Core has set the new galactic standard for FTL cores, being a massive improvement over all previous models. However, a glaring imbalance in the core revealed itself after half a year: Instead of a precise, controlled exit from FTL, the ships with the drive would emerge at speeds exceeding 1.0c with no ability to decelerate for some time. The frightening amount of collisions that followed made the first-gen cores near-universally reviled among the spacefaring races – not to mention a complete nightmare for insurance providers and station owners. These errors were corrected in the second generation cores, which were quickly implemented to swap out the volatile first-gens, now known on the hyperlanes as the ‘Super-Luminal Accident Machine’, or SLAM Core.
Disturbingly enough, however, certain more ‘inventive’ admirals have taken to stripping down ships still mounted with the SLAM core and simply armoring them up to an obscene degree, and then intentionally set them to exit FTL to ‘disrupt’ enemy fleet formations to stomache-churning effect.
Even more disturbing was that captains of the effected vessels became noticeably defensive about the drive, insisting that the exit flaw was ‘perfectly adaptable to combat situations’. Certain more questionable individuals among them ignored the armor refits to their ships and instead mounted additional thrusters and weapons, and, when exiting FTL, maneuver their ships to ‘sweep’ through enemy formations while firing wildly, which showed shockingly positive (and devastating) results. Such maneuvers became famous among the public, and surplus SLAM cores quickly disappeared into the hands of private ship owners.
The fad that followed was characterized by underground competitions, the emptying of mothball yards, and a strange obsessive revival of some Old-Earth continental music. At the center of it all was the now immortalized SLAM core, now known by its new lane name:
The Drift Drive.
The ship used to be a top of the line leisure yacht, but over decades (if not centuries) of service and several refits it's become a dilapidated tramp cargo vessel.

The computer is extremely touchy about this, to the point of emotional breakdown you bring up components being broken, outdated, etc.
Worse still, if you try to fix anything aboard the best you can hope for from the computer is sullen disobedience, unless you are very careful about how you bring it up.
Reminds me of Dark Star where they have to convince the malfunctioning thermonuclear warhead, not to detonate, repeatedly.

Why a thermonuclear warhead needed to be sentient is anybody's guess.
>Reminds me of Dark Star
Friend, "false data" is a quote from Dark Star.

Still one of my favourite John Carpenter films, and also one of the inspirations for Alien. Everyone should see it.
The Ship Moves

Was a 40k thing
At least one in each room is large enough to squeeze a person into.
They have a bad habit of squabbling like siblings
>leave flowers in the taped area
>not sure if they understand, but it seems polite
>a few days later, they add a glass tank under the painting
>the tank contains a miniature garden made from vent fungus
I own an airplane built in 1947. There are a few really odd things about my Cessna 140 that you might be able to apply to a spacecraft.

>Cigar lighter in the dash, back when there was only one use for those
>Wooden panel in back that actually has a flask taped to it
>Against all odds still has original manual, which is in great condition
>One of the maintenance logbooks is just weird
>>1983: "aluminized wings, spray used"
>>1967: "wing mounted after fence encounter"
>Leather seat cushions stitched to the pleather seat for added height while taxiing
>One time while flying, I heard a loud clunk, never found the cause after days of looking
>Stall horn is literally two pieces of metal welded to pilot door
>Landing light fits inside wing, actually rotates out of the wing when turned on
>Has a car horn
>Fuck do I love that horn

Weirdest one yet.
>Be me two years ago
>Holy shit I own a plane
>Go out to plane to go fly
>Decide to name her Jennifer Walters because that's the name of She-Hulk
>Because no shit, this machine could kill me the minute it decides to
>Park car, walk out to airplane
>Admire airplane in hanger
>Notice garbage bag next to her right tire
>Open garbage bag
>It's a painting of my airplane.
>Jennifer is written on the bottom of the painting.
>Proceed to flip the fuck out and start calling people to freak out
>Months later at a fly-in at my airfield, meet Jennifer
>Turns out that's her name, and she just loves painting planes
fuck, that's an EXCELLENT gimmick for a Macross campaign
Underneath the teleporter controls is a glass cabinet containing a sawn off shotgun and instructions to 'break glass in case of demons'.
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>the glass is already broken and two of the shotgun shells stored there are gone
Going to be honest, I'm stealing the space borrowers for a story.
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>it turns out you need some very special shells for it.


I was going to say "large weapon"
> The ship has a train horn
> It's utterly useless in space
> The ship isn't rated for being anywhere near centres of population
> Still use it to scare the shit out of maintenance workers while in docking bays
> Engineer has an Idea one day
> Spends the next few days either in his vac-suit out on the hull, or in his workshop
> He won't talk about it, just saying 'you'll hear about it'.
> Next time you enter an atmosphere, you hear about it, alright
> He's altered the aerodynamics of the ship
> Now you trail air horn tones whenever you're moving over 100 m/s in atmosphere.
>most of the log pages show nothing unusual
>but if you try to read page 6, the computer freezes for a second and skips to page 7
The ship is quite large, and the internal tramways have a steam backup system for when main, backup, and local power are down. Shovel in coal if you've got it, otherwise wood, paper, whatever you've got will get you moving.
The ship is so large that it required the use of electric mopeds to get around efficiently. You discover some of the crew hold street races in the early hours of the morning.
The ship is classified as a heavy frigate, but was built by a giant species who considered it more of a corvette. The bare minimum was done to convert it for human use, which generally just means some half-assed scaffolding and lots of ladders leaning against the seats
The Fast & the Furious: Cargo Bay Delta Drift
>one of their monster hunters is parked in the airlock
>on the floor next to it is a box filled with spare missiles
>a diagram on the box shows a human hand loading missiles onto the ship
>The ship's galley database is packed with Chilean food recipes. Chile hasn't existed for a hundred years or so with the ocean level rising, and its disappearance predates the age of ordinary spaceflight. The autofac makes some really fine empanadas, though.
The ship reactor requires frequent maintenance and is large enough that disabling the ship gravity is SOP when working on it.

Thus, the ship AI has developed the nasty habit of disabling the shipboard gravity upon sensing any problem with the reactor, no matter how quibbling, and refusing to turn it back on until the issue is resolved.
>ship's hyperdrive is canted at a 30 degree angle
>ship gently spins in hyperspace, resulting in nausea
>crew often drink Thrombolian liqueur, which causes the room to spin in the opposite direction and spend the entire jump drunk.
>Space Mormons just spend the trip throwing up.
Space borrowers
It had been a little like falling in love. You didn’t know exactly when it happened but you knew it had happened. We never knew exactly when they had come aboard or indeed how. There was a theory that they’d arrived in a consignment of recycling out of Ignis IX but that was only because our second engineer was so blind drunk that he thought buying a set of dancing tulips was an excellent idea in a portside bar. Whether he bought anything else there we didn’t know.

We first became aware that we were not alone when small power fluctuations were noted somewhere in the vents around J-deck. On a ship as old as the Cerulean that was not unusual. No one gave it any thought. Then small things began to go missing, the captain lost his favourite cigarette lighter, the ratings shyly whispered that someone had sabotaged the still that we all pretended we didn’t know about which was definitely not behind the thirteenth regulator unit in engineering. Umpteen other small things were noted as missing but no one put any of the pieces together, I doubt anyone would have noticed had we not been limited to twenty kilos of personnel effects. It took about a year of ship time before we realised that we were not alone.

It was the morning after the captains birthday. We had settled into orbit above
T-G 117, an asteroid orbiting Phobos. As the only crew man who didn’t drink, Singh was on watch. The rest of us were in the mess and well into the most recent vintage of the (recently repaired) still that did not exist.
Our chief engineer had decided that the best way to stop the room from spinning was to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling. The rest of us had decided to turn off the artificial gravity in the mess. While he screamed and desperately attempted to swim toward Mars, I drifted past a vent shaft. My eye must’ve just caught it at the right angle to see a very small but very strong set of lights about six inches beyond the grill. Curious I leant closer and was able to see something small rapidly disappearing up the shaft. If it hadn’t been hovering I would have written it off to the rats again. As the chief engineer chose this moment to attempt to adjust his trajectory by jettisoning a large portion of what he had drunk, my thoughts were cut short
What I’d seen played on my mind however, especially as we ended up on an extended layover above Saturn the following week. With nothing to do and everything polished twice over, I began to get curious. I began to notice that vents across the ship had slightly larger holes in them than they should, and the edges of those holes looked to have been very finely lasered. It also hadn’t escaped me that while conducting an inventory of the escape pod rations that every single packet of boiled sweets was missing.
I couldn’t tell anyone what I was thinking or they’d lock me up in the brig, but on surreptitiously asking around it seemed that all of those aboard with a sweet tooth were missing their usual fix. We were even starting to run low on sugar.

It took a couple of packets of cigarettes to persuade Cook to part with some of his dwindling stock – he being something of a budding economist realising that the laws of supply and demand may apply here, he asked for a carton until I pulled rank. With the aid of a small motion sensor and a flash bulb I set my trap and waited for the night cycle. I did my best to follow my usual nightly routine, just happening to spill a little sugar as I set the bag by my kettle. I also just happened to set up the motion sensor and flash overlooking this.

I pretended to doze, an eager hunter awaiting his prey, then I must’ve have actually begun to doze as when I woke it wasn’t to the blinding flash I’d expected but instead to a small, almost furtive sound, as of a very distant electric drill. Half opening one eye I could see something about the size and shape of a cigar tube floating above my desk, lit by ranks of shimmering blue lights. For all the worlds looking like a luminescent fish in the darkness of my cabin.

It was then I tried to attempt first contact. Still lying down I spoke with a mouth still thick with sleep, “Hello?”
I knew I’d never catch it but I was able to watch it retreat. Tiny little flares lighting up its rear as it accelerated away from me. It was a ship.

The following morning I examined my motion sensor, finding that much like my vent cover, it had been lasered through. I decided that these lilliputians were a lot smarter than I had given them credit for. I also realised how likely it was that they might have us under constant observation. If they could build a ship that size then sensor packages at that scale must be no issue. I began to fill my pipe, as this required ruminating upon. As I worried a farl of fifteen suns tobacco between my fingers, scientific curiosity gave way to a new feeling, fear. It has not all that hard to kill an unsuspecting man, a miniature torpedo fired silently and full of cyanide, or even simply a well aimed tiny rocket would do, and it could come from any angle, at any time. While mankind might be much larger than them, i was suddenly painfully aware my Achilles tendons, my jugular, even indeed the tobacco, if they wanted me dead, they would not have any trouble.

I decided that despite this sobering revelation, I should attempt to demonstrate my benevolence and friendliness. Looking directly at the vent I took the motion sensor and threw it into the recycling unit. Then I took half of the remaining sugar and poured it into a cup, placing this in the shaft. The other half I laid ostentatiously on my desk.
When Karen Traviss started writing the novels.
keep it up man, you promised storytime...

This is great! Keep it up!
The medical AI was designed for silicon-based lifeforms. It gets very nervous when it has to operate on carbon-based lifeforms and specifically asks if they're allergic to asbestos, dilute hydroflouric acid or liquid radium.
The ship once experienced a very strange transition out of hyperspace, and everything was flipped along the long axis of the ship. Everything from the right is on the left, all of the text on the walls has been mirrored, but everything functions as usual.
I actually love this. I'll be stealing it for later use.
A quarter from the former United States of America is welded to the floor outside the men's head. It's one of the only known artifacts from 1997.

It still claims the occasional irritated victim, with help from the head's door.
The ship's AI believes its original captain will come back any day now. It refers to its current captain as 'acting captain' and doesn't let anyone into the captain's quarters.
Need moar for storytime anon. Great work!
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>Ship has 3 buttons labelled Turbo, Extra Turbo, and Nega-Turbo.
>As far as anyone can tell, the buttons do nothing whatsoever except change the tone of the engines

>Every seat is an ejector seat

>The ship was designed to smuggle Octurian data-plates. They're 10" tall, 12" wide, and about as thick as a sheet of glass.
>There are hundreds of very thin hidden compartments on the ship.
>People keep dropping things into them
>Despite all of the other possible options, a previous Engineering Chief uploaded his grandmother's mind to function as the ship's AI
>It actually works out pretty great
>Food printers are among the best any of the crew has ever seen
>Every once in a while power and materials are diverted to some secret project
>Nana Gagarin pretends to not know what's going on
>A week later cleaning bots deliver warm slippers to every bunk during the night
>Have names embroidered on them, fit just right for each crewman
>Unfortunately, his grandmother was a little... old-fashioned.
>It took her a long time to learn to tolerate robosexuals (filthy plug-lovers), the Bactori (war criminals, all of them!), Catholics (bah!), and the Faliformians (dressed like sluts!).
>She eventually gets over it, but in the meantime, be careful when using the airlocks
>One crew member masturbated deep in the middle of the night
>Next time he has to check into the autodoc, he exited with hair on his palms
If that were true, the crew would look like wookies by the end of the week.

Wanking is a fundamental fact of shipboard life. Grandma knows that. Might even appreciate it.
>typing 'KONAMI' into the weapons console opens a hidden compartment with a plastic light gun
>pointing the gun at the main viewport overrides the turret controls
in a Nanny Ogg sort of way perhaps...
Previous owners of this ship was from aquatic world. Most of the systems must be completely submerged in water if you wanna use them.
>we always doubted Captain Harold was all there, what with his obsession with ancient "cowboys" and lawmen
>they weren't even bovine unlike the folk from the Filean Space Empire
>always going on about those people's pistols and how he wanted to be like them
>wanted to be the fastest draw on the West Rim
>one day he got his chance
>we were hauling ore out of the Antilles System when six Arcturian bandit ships decloaked in front of us demanding our cargo
>Harold typed something into the turret control and a small plastic pistol came out
>all he said in reply was "Draw you sumbitches"
>the turrets responded faster than anyone had ever seen, turning from ship to ship before you could blink
>he must have modified the turrets at dock, because when he brought the pistol up and pointed at each ship, pulling the trigger, they were immediately disabled and venting atmo
>the threat handled, we dropped a radio beacon for the Navy to come and collect them and went on our way
>I couldn't help but notice he vectored us towards a nearby star before resuming course once we couldn't see them anymore
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>Grandma knows a thing or two about ships
>used to be an Imperial officer back when they owned half the galaxy
>sometimes forgets that she's not on a dreadnaught anymore
>sometimes tells the captain to just give her the bloody guns
>the warship hovers in front of you
>flipping over, it shows you its missile bays
>three of them are empty
>one contains an empty packet of barbeque sauce, neatly folded
>the instructions on the box look simple enough: pointed end goes forwards, black stripe faces downwards
>a magnet snaps the missile into place when you put it in the bay
>with all four loaded, the ship closes and rolls upright
>circles you once before dropping into an open pocket on your suit
>you reach in and gently pull it out
>turn it around and put it back in
>you know they can reverse, but it feels like you're helping
I will try and writefag a bit more at bedtime tonight anons.Haven't forgotten you all.
As adorable as this is, imagine it from the other perspective.

>Through an accident of warp fuckery, your colony ship fleet has materialized in the ventilation shafts of a ship of giants.
>They seem friendly enough
>giant bro is acting weird
>check the ship's likely destinations
>realize he might not be coming back
>nobody wants to start from square one with a new guy
>definitely nobody wants to stop the supply runs
>have a few giant killers built after the incident, just in case
>nearly everyone agrees that losing giant bro would count for that
>maybe not quite as bad, but you can spare one to look after him
>you just have to convince him to take it
It gives a whole new meaning to "Go get the satellite".
>The only drawback is the very well intentioned nagging
>Airlock refuses to unlock until everybody manually goes over another person's spacesuit
>Even when on station
>Nana won't let you go planetside until you're wearing a coat and have some food to take with you
>Hard to explain to your business contacts why you have sandwiches when you're meeting at their restaurant

>Also she's constantly trying to get great-grandchildren by convincing crew members that they would be just adorable together
>Grandma is terrifyingly effective with the guns
>Grandma also is/was a wanted war criminal in six sectors
>Particular faction of pirates finds out that she's still alive
>Arguably more powerful than ever
>This concerns everyone on the ship
>Upon arrival at next starbase a swarm of pirates gather near the ship
>Crew prepares to be boarded
>Pirates prostrate themselves in front of the ship
>Worship their newly "ascended" god of pillaging
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>Grandma needs to be assured that, no, they aren't Catholics
>Space pirates are more annoying than helpful most of the time, as Grandma refuses to give them actual useful orders.
>Spend most of their time pillaging local space lanes of clutter, or raiding outposts to "steal" their debilitating medical conditions
>Due to this, the ship is now wanted in three systems for pirate attacks.
>Grandma is livid.
>Calls them a band of hooligans and miscreants
>Demands that they clean up their act right now, misters.
>Pirates go out of their way to begin doing good
>They even shower!
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nobody, and I mean NOBODY.
fucks with the battle-granny
>Grandma actually took part in the Red Revolution
>Still complains about capitalist pigs and the bourgeois
>Speaks of the old country as though it were Eden
>During battle she blasts ancient Soviet music through the speakers
Polite bump.
I'll do the same, sir.
The gravity points upwards in the bottom half of the ship. The elevators all have thick padded mats on the floor/ceiling to reduce injuries from falling.
gud thread
mandatory bump
What are plausible armaments to be found aboard a junker merchant space vessel? Other than Nagants, I mean.
A few air pistols, for pest control.
An AK47. No matter how advanced the tech, there's an AK somewhere. Probably in a case marked 'in case of fascists, break glass'.
The cook's anti-rat handcannon. On lower settings, it can sear a mean steak. On the higher settings, he uses it to shoot the vent-rats that try and steal dinner when their numbers get too high, and to carve messages in icy moonlets.
Wrecking bars, prybars, assorted knives, a collection of swords belonging to a former crew member who left them behind claiming he'd be back for them, and an assortment of variously sized hammers for different repairs. The hammers also include copper and tungsten models for fire-risk environments.
A massive handcannon of a pistol, purchased by the captain after an encounter with a particularly persuasive salesman. There are only a handful of bullets left for it by now, and a lot of freelance supply ships with holes in them.
A rack of short-barreled shotguns loaded with expanding wadding, for deterring boarders without punching holes in their valuable spacesuits.
A rocket-propelled harpoon gun with six miles of buckyball cable on the drum.
I'm pretty sure that the AK-47 will continue to be in use long after humans have forgotten the name of Earth
right along with the Remington 870 shotgun.
And, in compatible atmospheres, the Cessna 172, the dirt of airplanes.
suppose we need a list of shit that is somehow EVERYWHERE.

like the "Gin and Tonic" the AK-47(74), or the cessna
Cessna 172 for aircraft.
AK-47 for guns.
Number 2 pencils?
Texas Instruments calculators.
David Clarke headphones.
YKK brand zippers.
Baseball caps.
Doom on computers.
Playing cards.
>Playing cards.
specifically Bicycle red and blue-backed 56 card(4-joker) packs.

there are aliens on distant worlds that don't speak languages humans can understand that can still recognize a bicycle card deck

>Texas Instruments calculators.

the work-horse of every ships-mechanic, engineer, navigator, accountant, and provisioner.

>lobbyists attempting to put a ban on certain environmentally unfriendly things, AAA-batteries included
>one day they dropped the ban, and any argument related to it
>nobody is sure why...
for that matter the thing that made the Crescent tool company so famous...the Adjustable Wrench.

or perhaps Craftsman hand-tools.
>Dat Guarantee man.
>every spaceport has one
>a SEARS outlet.
>no replacement if it's "lost in space" even if you DO have a receipt
The common ballpoint pen. It doesn't work in gravity lower than 0.4G, it needs an oxygen atmosphere for the ink to flow, and it breaks easily. However, there are still entire planetary economies keyed to churning them out by the trillion and selling them in tubs of a few hundred.
Nobody's sure how they remain in business, because nobody ever remembers BUYING the goddamn things. You see them on sale, you smile and nod, and you go right past to buy one that'll write on the hull.
But then you find you've got a few tubs in the stores. And a few in your pockets, discovered when one ruptured during a pressure test in the airlock. No matter how many you lose, there are more.

The common bicycle. Infinite variations, but the basic design persists. Electric scooters need charging, groundcars are unwieldy, shuttles need landing pads. But a bicycle? It's light, especially with nano-manufacturing on some planets. Even with steel tubes, it's lighter than a human. It's thin enough to get through gaps, it's efficient, it runs on calories, and it can carry a fairly decent load with panniers. It'll go over pretty much any terrain, and can be carried over anything it can't. It's also CHEAP. If you break it, you can just replace it, or find a shade-tree mechanic on a frontier world. Or a hipster nudist bicycle shop on a station.

Starbucks coffee. It's the sign a colony's finally made it when an outlet is dropped from orbit and brakes to a soft landing on a street corner, complete with a manager to recruit people and train his replacement.
It's always a man; they seem to clone them.

Duct tape, of course. Even when they invented SpaceTape, which was five times stronger and vacuum-rated, it was ten times the price so everyone used five times as much duct tape. It's even useful for emergency access on the hull. Shiny side in, sticky side out.
Water Displacer - Formula 40
or as it is most well known as
Panther Piss

the penetrant, lubricant, rust remover, rust preventer, tinkers cologne, and cure-all for things mechanical.
The common Frisbee. As soon as a planet has injection moulding, they have frisbees. If not, they can be made from plywood, or thinly-wrought metal.

Dogs. Wherever humans go, they will take dogs. Dogs to haul sleds, dogs to herd livestock, dogs to guard children, dogs for companionship, uplifted dogs that debate philosophy with passers-by, dogs for finding people.
Horses. They eat grass, and can be gene-tweaked to subsist on the local flora. They walk for hours without tiring, carry loads, and replicate themselves if allowed to. You can also spread their shit as fertiliser, and eat them in a pinch.
Pigs. Bacon is tasty. Colonists need bacon. They eat practically anything, breed rapidly, taste nice, and can even be used in the production of biofuels.
Goats. Agile, can be shorn for wool, can be eaten, climb anything, find food anywhere. Sheep come later, but goats get bred first.
Chickens. Eggs are tasty, and chicken shit is a good fertiliser. Chickens are also tasty.

Photovoltaic panels. Every colony has a package containing nanobots to make solar panels. EVERY SINGLE ONE. They're standard on colony ships, and just let loose on inner planets and asteroid fields to make power. Even if you have to cycle everywhere on a planet, you can still charge your phone.

Hog fat lubricants. No oil on the planet? No problem! Smear your bike chain in processed hawg fat, and you're good, boy.

Vodka. Once the first crops grow, someone will turn it into vodka. Every ship has a still, and you dilute the moonshine so it doesn't make you go blind.
Scale the still up and tweak it a little, and you have pure ethanol coming out, ideal for running vehicles on.
It's not true, but I want to live in a universe where it's the piper cub, 172, and dc-3 that are found on absolutely every random colony world.
>Goats. Agile, can be shorn for wool, can be eaten, climb anything, find food anywhere. Sheep come later, but goats get bred first.
Can even use them for hauling. They don't have that high a capacity, but pack goats are relatively easy to manage, can handle bizarre terrain, and feed themselves pretty well.
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Easy to manufacture, hardy, work well, easy to fix, can be upgraded as you get better tech established.
The Catalina is a firm favourite of more aquatic worlds, and coastal regions of others.

> ATVs
Running on ethanol or batteries backed with solar power, these are ubiquitous after a colony's first few shaky decades. Usually with a trailer attached, a sheepdog balanced on the luggage rack, and a shotgun across the handlebars.

> The An-2
Utilitarian, and pretty much cannot be stalled. Nobody knows where the design is from, but the engine will run on anything liquid and combustible. Fat, ugly, and slow, but it WILL get there. Eventually.

Of course, humans being humans, if you give them something with a motor, they will modify it and race it, and do stunts with it.
Barnstormers live again in the colonies as a result.
>The Catalina is a firm favourite of more aquatic worlds, and coastal regions of others.
It bugs me that so much SF neglects boats. Sure, you have spaceships, but flyers are pricey, and on a prime colony world, is it really better to do all your resource-collecting locally when you can survey the world and find an absolute motherlode of easily-accessible ore some distance away from the main settlement with its fertile plains, or whatever? Generalised settlements are OK, but specialised ones are going to get you up to profitability faster. Water transport dramatically increases the accessible area for exploitation - anywhere not too far away with a coast or reasonable river becomes viable, rather than just places with convenient land routes.

And then you start building railways for the *real* heavy ore transport...

the real benefit is that it opens up more options for secretive splinter settlements, distant settlements growing disenchanted with the first landing government, and piracy
also, fishing (and uplifted dolphins?)
Most writers are American, and America isn't a country with a rich nautical history.
Anne, McCaffrey can stay

but Todd can Fuck Right Off

>It bugs me that so much SF neglects boats
as much as /tg/ rips on Honor Harrington, thats a woman that loves her sailing.

and then there is the 2nd and 3rd book in the "March Upcountry" series which feature Age of Sail levels sail-boating of tech in a Sci-Fi setting. also included is the planet Pinopa.

the "Legacies of the Aldenatta" (John Ringo) series includes a section where the aliens are shelled by a surface ship.

I always thought it had more to do with the fact that in Sci-Fi people wanted space-battles and shit leaving surface navies behind...
On planets where the local ecology isn't a concern, cats. They're almost like a primer for human environments to form, and they can destroy pest creatures better than any chemical or nanoplague could.
Which is a shame, because the great lakes are pretty wonderful as a setting. Vast freshwater sea? I'd land on that shit.
>Anne, McCaffrey can stay
>but Todd can Fuck Right Off
mate, Brin.
every spaceport has at least one nasty bar that holds a weekly "weirdest porn found on a planetary network" competition.

so you think your kink is the strongest do you?
Annapolisfag here, you take that back.
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I'm british; we had an ocean-going navy longer than you've had a country.
I can't remember, do we have a carrier at the moment? Whatever happened to those plans to timeshare one with the French?



I LIKE sailing, I do it for fun in my little 16 foot trimaran, but this is a thread for space-quirks.

perhaps pull some of that fancy british naval lore and find some quirks to contribute?

like Klabautermann...
>perhaps pull some of that fancy british naval lore and find some quirks to contribute?
Could have a toast rotation.


Maybe the ship or AI was navy once, maybe it's just an old tradition, maybe new captains or owners occasionally change one, but a weekly rotation of toasts works particularly well with traveller jumpspace - hell, they might be jump-only.

>Absent Friends
>Our Ships in the Void
>Our Crew
>Ourselves (as no one else is likely to be concerned for us!)
>A Bloody War or a Sickly Season (and a quick promotion!)
>A Willing Foe and Space-Room
>Our Spouses and Lovers (may they never meet!)
I think we have a bit over one in terms of percentage.
I think the idea to was derailed as soon as the french laughed at it. Making another couple for them was a good idea, though, but they didn't buy off on that because Syria happened.

>perhaps pull some of that fancy british naval lore and find some quirks to contribute?
Oh, hush. I'll get to the writing again in a bit.

> The toast rotation is corrupted over time to include actual toast, as well.
> Absent friends, and those lost in FTL
> Ships in the void, and the void beyond
> Our crew, and the AI
> 'Fair seas and following winds' is changed to 'Fair tides and favourable orbits'
> The alcohol ration is kept, but illicit moonshine/space vodka is tolerated.
> Drunkenness on duty is punishable by being spaced. You get a minute to put your vac-suit on, though.

> Nose-art returned with a venegance, with pinup girls, green-skinned space babes, and shark jaws on small craft.
> Itasha has also taken off big time. Some merchant ships are plastered with kilometers-high depictions of the captain's waifu.
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>not dekotora
>actual toast

I like this one a lot.

Punching the throttle all the way out isn't a good idea because the engines will die on you if do that. The whole ship runs on an old analogue system, and so some things are like that: the stick is a little hard to move sometimes (specifically when there's air resistance in an atmosphere, or if an engine goes out), the guns, despite being laser weapons, will jam sometimes when a mechanism gets stuck, some doors have to be cranked shut (others are retrofitted), etc. On the upside, nearly every component can be replaced or repaired without any training, and nearly never break in the first place because they're so simple and well tested.
I'm reminded of that one anime with schoolgirl space pirates where the regular pirate crew's away and a bunch of kids from the space yacht club have to take over. There are a fair few quirks to the ship, so the real crew are desperately writing documentation and procedures while trapped in quarantine on a medical station. No, see, the left reactor's a bit twitchy on startup, you have to hold it for a little longer halfway through...

(IIRC they had to raid someone by the end of the month or they'd lose their letter of marque, it makes more sense in the show)
(it's called bodacious space pirates, of course https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tc5N4LUdkME )
So... You wouldn't like some toast?

Why not both? LED strips adding highlights to the paint jobs, extra parts, etc.
Now that I think about it, the model for piracy works in Traveller.

Basically two star nations had a war, then a bigger, higher-tech nation stomped in and said RIGHT KNOCK THAT SHIT OFF YOU'RE PART OF US NOW, YOU DON'T GET A NAVY

But the privateers stayed, and their letters of marque were used as a way of keeping at least some naval power. They have to do a piracy every so often to keep them active, but that's not usually an issue... and the cruise liners tend to make it part of the voyage. Sure, the passengers have to hand over all the fancy jewellery they were wearing, but that's what insurance is for, and it's not like the insurers aren't in on it too.

A couple of pocket empires or independent worlds suddenly getting eaten up by a TL15 empire that will generally delegate "piracy" issues to the local governors as long as they don't cause too much trouble?
The standard pattern of shuttle is a blunt-nosed flying wing/lifting body with stubby fins. Paint jobs tend to end up as burnt-on negatives due to re-entry scorching, and you can tell a pilot on sight by the permanent tan on his face and hands from the plasma glow.
It'll buff out.

It'll always buff out. It's a ship that's survived way too many unplanned lithobrakings, cumulogranite encounters, and accidental sundives - the engineers of the sector are pretty sure it can't be killed, only briefly stopped.

Someone bounced it off two moons and crashed it into their gas giant once. Hundred years later someone spots its beacon - bloody thing had hit a hypercane and been thrown up on an arc through the top of the atmosphere. Landed a pair of mechanics with a few spanners, a spool of hose and a small fuel tank, fired up an auxiliary positioning thruster, and eyeballed their way into a low orbit.

A fortnight later, it limps into station. The mechs hadn't taken their suits off the entire time, so hazmat were called, but they even got basic air working again.
Six years later the crew got into legal trouble and due to a bureaucratic fuck-up their ship was left in dock. Which was fine, except ten years after THAT, the station it was docked in was decommissioned. And dropped. From orbit. The demo crew thought that bay was empty, it had been sealed so long.

But you know it didn't stay dead.
Nothing ever stays dead in space. Buddy of mine recently finished his project; he bought salvage rights to a tramp cycler that'd been gutted by the mass driver of a moon on the move. Fixed it up good, new reactor, new locks, patched the hull with scrap, good as new, almost.
There are a few of those around, built by some company on Earth back before it blew up. You know, Earth, where us humans came from? In the Milky Way?
AN-2, that's the best plane ever. If I could switch my plane out for anything, it would be that.

Some call it the Soi-yahs, but the real name of the craft is lost to history.
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party is given a shity ship and some equipment and a place to go for starship making parts
party then makes a better ship from shity ship and other parts
place can be a scrap yard or a planet with an abandoned mining operation and a small production facility

my fav is a ship store with lots of fun ships but all with at least one major problem and a budget for buying/repairing/upgrading any ship

ghost ship--- ship works and is in good shape but was abandoned and floating with no sign of missing former crew --- ship has been seen maneuvering in places far from where last reported and long after crew went missing. only dead owner/captain found in bridge captain's chair and body shows signs of having been sitting there a long time with life support off, mummifying them. ship had no AI and all logs and recordings stopped/erased after it last left port.
Every ship in the class has a fully stocked machine shop which is completely inaccessible due to some fuckwit forgetting to draw a door on the plans. The error slipped through checking, and the builders never questioned it.
----ship is an old military dreadnought---
it is still functional as the day it was made and even a little better as it has been upgraded with newer and better stuff while it was sill in military service,
-- but it is obsolete, replaced by much better warships it is now military surplus.
all weapons work, though with no ammo for weapons that use ammo (like missiles and torpedoes) and all equipment is a little outdated
-still has lots or armor and packs a punch in a fight
- but its like having ww1/ww2 grade weapons on a modern battlefield

with some good DMing and player choices it can be a very good ship (like bringing an old army rifle to a knife fight) and the old tec can even help in a modern fight (guns that don't have advanced computers for aiming can't be hacked remotely)
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bringing back a dead ship
-- ship is a wreck literally
it's bigger and nicer than anything you can buy
it's not in the best of shape but... you can fix it
it will take work to get it working but you do have the whole ship and ("something to work with" like a 2nd small ship or several wrecks to get parts from or something")
and as it was a wreck, its legally yours, once its working
and then you have a nice large ship that cost you next to nothing to get
It's really not as hard as you might think.
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ship is TOO BIG
ship is very large and needs a large crew
you don't have a large crew for whatever reasons
can't land on a planet cuz it will never take off after
can't dock in small ports as ship is larger than most ports
whole parts of the ship you have never seen

this is good for a game party that has a choice of ships as it being a large ship has all the best weapons and power and extras so the party may be tempted to get the biggest ship they can buy only to find that its more ship then they can easily handle. as now whole adventures can happen in the unused parts of their ship and its an adventure to make repairs, find replacement parts, or just get to the galley from the engine room
(think like what its like to buy a whole hospital or mall or factory and try to live in it as your home)
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ship AI is integrated into every system
has lots or backups and redundant systems and emergency power
ship AI can run most of the ship by itself and needs no crew except for repairs
ships AI and ship are one in the same for all purposes and can not be separated
ship AI has free will and may or may not like you ...or like you a little too much
do you really OWN this ship? better ask the ship that question
The ship has a small problem with tides.

The gravity generator's a pretty old model, you see, one of the centralized ones that directly tap off of the drive. Before the fancy new isotropic distributed systems. Can't really be replaced without gutting the whole ship.

So "down" is consistently towards the engine room, and the gravity has serious tidal forces - at the far end of the ship in the observation cupola, you're getting maybe half a gee, but in the engine room right on top of the drive you're pulling two gees. Having your feet always be noticeably heavier than your head can sometimes be almost as nauseating and disorienting as not having gravity at all.

It did save your ass one time, though - a raider ship had severely damaged your whole drive system and shot a great big hole in your side; but when they pulled alongside for boarding the gravity hiccup ed, they were caught in the wash leaking through the ruptured hull shielding, and the tidal strain tore their ship apart.
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on a similar note
>if you haven't seen this move you need to
ship is made by and mostly for a race of AI robots
as the robots are space capable by themselves but not interstellar travel without assistance
robots are very friendly and are ok with you piloting their ship to wherever you wish
ship has even been modified to be comfortable for humans to live in
robots do not like you doing serious damage to ship or them or each other
---they seem to be happy with being "payed" in raw materials to fix the ship and themselves- even if/ especially if its in the form of scrap metal and broken things that they can repurpose -- note some of your personal possessions will be repurposed even if not broken
I said I'd writefag more so...

I tried my utmost over the course of the next hour to concentrate on my crossword, studiously ignoring the vent and the cup of sugar less than a yard from me. It wasn’t long before I heard the familiar whirr from the vent, instead I did my utmost to focus on 14 down, “Trout Basket, although there is a sea, you won’t find it there.” It wasn’t long before the ship came into view. Slowly rising just out of arms reach from my right side. It was about the size of a beer can, covered in crenellations and balustrades, looking more like architecture than engineering. What really drew my attention though were the torpedo tubes on the prow. While the ship remained at about a 45 degree angle and not pointed directly at me, I could see those tubes each contained something that most definitely looked like a .38 calibre bullet, just like you might find in any service revolver aboard the Cerulean.

The message was clear, a very loud “don’t tread on me” but they also were not overtly hostile. I moved very slowly as I moved the cup of sugar over the desktop, taking a little on my finger, showing it to the bridge and licking it off.

I decided to try verbal communication. “You guys like sweet things right? How about you try this?” again with ostentatious slowness, I went for a lemon sherbert in the pocket of my jacket, which was slung on the back of my chair.

I laid this beside the sugar and watched. The ship didn’t move, but instead another larger, fatter vessel ponderously made its way into view, I was fairly sure I recognised the hull as having begun life as a standard issue mess tin. This freighter hoovered up the sugar before a hangar on the port side distorted a fleet of smaller ships which lasered apart the sherbert and retreated with their more manageable prizes in tow.
As the freighter made its way towards the vent, what I had come to call the warship waggled it’s wings, before making another show of force, a gun turret on her belly effortlessly (and blindingly) lasered “CREEL” into 14 down. The ship turned on her axis and sped off leaving me dumbfounded, and now stuck on seventeen across.

For want of better term, the Creel didn’t seem malevolent, nor did they seem especially sociable. I decided I would continue efforts at contact. I took to leaving sweets and other items on my desk, and they without care as to whether I was in my bunk or not would regularly collect them. It was fairly normal to return from watch to discover that a pencil had been lasered in half and a whisky miniature emptied. They also took to filling in the crossword if it was left out, what they did not do however was answer verbal or written communication. They had other means of making themselves known though, my cabin was always immaculately clean, the squeak from the chair was gone. After one shift I returned to find a number of my lost socks neatly laid out on the bed, the final one being delivered in my presence by a number of tugs working in tandem.
The one constant in the visits from the Creel was the warship, which being old fashioned I decided must be called Warspite for no particular reason. The Warspite would watch over her charges and also seemed to take the lead on herding me if they decided they needed me out of the way.

This series of events went on quite peacefully for about a week, the Creel were a fascinating curiosity, and I knew should I disclose their existence, I would lose my new hobby and exclusive rights to them. I’d already heard ratings mention that some maintenance jobs seemed to fix themselves now, with wiring that was faulty yesterday now in excellent order all by itself. Cookie mentioned that he kept finding rats which seemed to have somehow committed suicide by laser as well.

I continued to try to communicate, it was obvious they had picked up English already but aside from the crossword, they showed no interest in talking back. The Warspite could be drawn into a game of noughts and crosses, and would even play checkers if it was in the mood.

The first thing that broke into what was becoming a routine was Tom. Like all ships the Cerulean had a couple of cats aboard, and Tom was sire to them all, a good sort of moggy, of indeterminate age, colour, temper, and odour but
most definitely Tom under all the scars and burns. He was quite a sweet thing really and was known to sleep on crew when they were on watch. I found him nosing around outside my quarters with great interest one morning. It seems the old warrior had caught the smell of something new.

I had visions of Tom playing with that tanker as he had done with any number of different types of vermin across the galaxy. It turned my stomach to think what that cuddly little ball of murder would do to them, or what the Warspite might do to him. I decided this had to be addressed sooner rather than later.
Unusually no ships emerged when I closed the door to my cabin, I shone my torch into the vent and blinked it three times. Within a minute or two the Warspite was hovering over my desk. By this time I had managed to very crudely draw a picture of the ship and another of Tom.
The Warspite changed her axis until it just about matched that of her in my crude drawing, then waggled her wings to show she knew that was meant to be her. She then appeared to consider the picture of Tom. With deliberate care the Warspite lasered a six marks under the drawing of the Warspite, then carefully crossed out five of those, with a further arrow pointing to Tom. It seemed they already knew about him. I tried to imagine what it was like for them, having this super predator stalking the vents, a veritable leviathan or great white whale responsible for the deaths of untold numbers of their race. I decided that it was time I entered legend.

Engineering thought I was insane, but even drunk Mclintock was a fine hand at metal work and after sharing a quantity of hooch with him, a few hours later (and a bit unsteadily) I was looking for Tom. Tom could sometimes be found asleep on top of the heating ducts not far from the kitchen. He was there but anything but asleep. He had something between his paws
>The An-2
>A note from the pilot's handbook reads: "If the engine quits in instrument conditions or at night, the pilot should pull the control column full aft and keep the wings level. The leading-edge slats will snap out at about 64 km/h (40 mph) and when the airplane slows to a forward speed of about 40 km/h (25 mph), the airplane will sink at about a parachute descent rate until the aircraft hits the ground." [4]

>The An-2 indeed has no stall speed quoted in the operating handbook. Pilots of the An-2 say one can fly the aircraft in full control at 48 km/h (30 mph) (as a contrast, a modern Cessna four-seater light aircraft has a stall speed of around 80 km/h (50 mph)). This slow stall speed makes it possible for the aircraft to fly backwards (if the aircraft is pointed into a headwind of, say, 56 km/h (35 mph), it will travel backwards at 8.0 km/h (5 mph) whilst under full control).

Now, where can I get a 28mm-ish model of one...
>gradually discover that the giants become more cooperative if they see you acting cute

I once heard a story from some old pilot that he was helping a friend in the Navy with calibrating some radar array, and they had told him to fly any aircraft he wanted so they could check out how the radar return matched the aircraft. This guy picked an AN-2 and took it out over the ocean in slow flight and just flew around at 40ish mph for half an hour.

When he came back to meet up with his Navy friend, his friend was freaking the fuck out.
>"You aren't licensed for helicopters! What the fuck were you thinking?!"
He just laughs and tells his friend about the glory of Soviet Russia's slowest airplane ever, so slow that no one who was tracking it by radar believed for one second it was a plane.
The ship's AI likes to tell stories about a seemingly indestructible buddy of his.
You're pretty sure he's making them up. Nothing could survive that.
>do you really OWN this ship? better ask the ship that question
Legally? Yes. Now shut up before we 'repair' you.
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That's pretty dangerous for a ship, considering it could be carrying a torpedo.
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>of, say, 56 km/h (35 mph)

Aka half a hurricane.

If enemy airplanes are a worry, then you probably won't let an enemy chopper loiter around either, and the SAM missile ain't gonna care about the difference.
Can the missile track something moving that slowly? That's something the Swordfish ran into; German AA guns couldn't track them, because they weren't moving fast enough. Shooting them down had to be done on manual.
>Some call it the Soi-yahs, but the real name of the craft is lost to history.
The Toyota Soyuz. My god.
Bumping for more of the ship borrowers writefagging.
I also want to know how Warspite is able to laser things into paper without setting it on fire.
>I also want to know how Warspite is able to laser things into paper without setting it on fire.
it's actually not terribly hard.

I used to work with a 75 watt laser.
I'd run proofs at 1-4% power on plain printer paper before cranking the cut power up for plywood or solid-board.

the trick is to cut FAST so heat doesn't build up in the paper enough to maintain a combustion
Skateboard. Cheap, easy to use, fun, looks cool, better than walking, easy to manufacture, lightweight, reliable, easy to stow, uses no electricity.

The higher your tech level, the crazier the board gets. You can have a featherlight board made of carbon fiber with modified gecko grip griptape, africtile bearings, foamed titanium trucks, and nano-diamond wheels if you're on a high tech planet.
Needs a perfectly smooth surface to run on, though. Can't ride it on a dirt road, or across a ploughed field.
Pssh. You've never heard of the mountain board? Literally a skateboard with knobby tires and maybe suspension. Child's play for a spacefaring culture.
Mountainboarding is a thing. It's like an ATV skateboard.
Sure, but the rolling resistance must be incredible, and it still has the major problem of the only thing holding you on the board being gravity.
Fine in 1G, but in 0.5? 0.3? One bump and off you go in a nice big arc off the board.
Bicycles work all the time, so long as there's enough gravity to hold the wheels down. When there ISN'T, well, then you're back to monkeying around from handhold to handhold, or using a modified leafblower as a thruster.
There are straps holding you on and they've made motorized ones.
Why not just add a handle and call it a scooter, then?
And that also refutes
>easy to manufacture, lightweight, easy to stow, uses no electricity

not all of them
Clearly we need hoverboards.
...why does the human race love moving around on boards?

surfing, skating, wake-boarding, snow-boarding, skiing, paddle-boarding, water-boarding, knee-boarding, skim-boarding, mountain-boarding, boogie-boarding, parachute-boarding, kite-boarding, sail-boarding....THE LUGE
I dunno, I've never done any of that. I was just thinking of back to the future.

Waterboarding could be fun though...
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>it actually looks quite good
Small details in the nose-art change randomly. Sometimes it's the tool the girl uses, or the colour of her hair or outfit. Everytime you dock something has changed.

The borrowers remind me of 'the Shoemaker and the Elves' fairy tale. I also remember an RPG videogame with a character that was a planet, about the size of a beachball. I'd love to see more stories.
Thanks science anon. I'll post some more borrowers shortly.
Tom had played this game before and rotated himself away from me as I approached. He glowered over his shoulder at me, one beady eye analysing whether to run or go for my jugular. If it hadn’t been for all of the best of engineering I’d have drunk I wouldn’t have done it, but I got him by the scruff of the neck, earning an impressively deep gouge in my hand in doing so. I whipped my creation about his neck, and Tom looked faintly bemused by his new, jangling collar. All thoughts of murder were forgotten when I laid him down, instead he began the meticulous scientific investigation of his new sartorial affectation. While I was extremely proud to have belled the beast, the twisted and torn remains of the little tug caused me no end of shame. Claws had rent her amidships and from within her, a brown fluid leaked like blood.
With as much care as I dared in front of the watchful eye of Tom I bundled up the ship. Clasping her between my hands and running for my quarters. My neighbour, Jackson, seeing me bloody from my altercation with Tom, hands trailing smoke and brown fluid, and sprinting, didn’t seem to quite know what to make of it as he left his quarters. I answered his bemused questions by slamming my door. I laid out the broken tug as gently as I could on my desk. For the first time getting a proper whiff of my hands. Either the Creel swam in an atmosphere composed entirely of McCluckins wing sauce, or however many tiny, sapient lives had been lost aboard her, for a hold full of my second favourite condiment.

I stared at the remnants, unable to process what it might feel were the Ceruelan cornered by a moon sized feline. The torturous horror of being played with, teased apart, an eye like the red spot of Mars gazing at you.

It was about now that the Warspite joined me, a small flotilla of other tugs bore their deceased comrade away within the vents. From outside my cabin a jingling and the occasional pleading miaow of murderous intent could be heard all night as I tried to stop myself from extrapolating how many men would have been aboard a vessel like that had it been on terrestrial scale.
I woke hours later, still desperately unhappy at the loss of life. The congealed barbecue sauce on my desk a grim memorial. I nearly made myself sick imagining that were might still be bodies in there, slowly being fossilised into delicious condiment. Even today I can no longer stand BBQ sauce.

I hadn’t managed to even undress myself the night before, and by my watch I was meant to be on the bridge ten minutes ago. As I began fiddling with buttons, I noticed that the gash in my hand had been very carefully sutured shut by a thousand tiny little staples. I smiled toward the vent.

Fifteen minutes later, out of breath and in a uniform less stained with blood, death and BBQ sauce I prepared to face the old man.

He barely even registered my presence, let alone my tardiness. The bridge of the Cerulean had been fashionable a hundred years ago, with faux bookshelves and leather upholstered seats, but after decades in service, a billion cigarettes and some stains that were older than me, she just felt lived in. If you go into a man’s study you can almost feel the gap he leaves in it when he’s not there. Right now however there was no gap, for wedged into where it might be was the bristling beard and massive sloped shoulders of Captain Physiog-Futo, who should have been a hick farmer with seventeen children on Ceres, but instead had decided to become an Intrasolar gorilla instead. He threw (with a lot less care than I’d have liked) a circuit board at me.

“what pray tell me is that Mr Mate?”

“it’s a circuit board Sir.”

“look closer Mr Mate.”

“still a circuit board Sir.”

“Yes Mr Mate but,” he took a long infuriated puff at his cigar, “what’s wrong with it?”
With as much gravitas as I could muster without breakfast, I replied “No idea Sir. Ask engineering sometime in the afternoon once they’ve slept off last night.”
“That circuit board came from a coolant unit on C Deck.
“That circuit board came from a coolant unit on C Deck. It is a 2487 B. It has an entirely standard pattern and should be cross compatible with any ship in space. The board you are holding, was a 2487 B on her last inspection two years ago. It is now of no known configuration, it is 60% lighter. I want you to find out where it came from Mr Mate. Someone has been messing with my ship. When you do find that someone, I’m going to...I’m going to...” his eyebrows crashed together like jet-propelled Neptunian caterpillars as he mustered an appropriately vile notion, “I’m going to hit them.”

I didn’t say he was very good at this.

“Eradicate them Mr Mate, whoever did this. I want them found and I want them dead.”

I knew exactly who that someone was. I knew also that the Captain was out for blood. Still I couldn’t resist asking, “did it work Sir?”
He grunted interrogatively.
“The cooling unit? Did it work.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with it but yes, flawlessly, but who else knows what this saboteur has done. End them Mr Mate, or I’ll end you.” He finished the last sentence at a bellow that practically blew me from the bridge and back to my quarters.

As I entered, carefully and none too gently kicking Tom aside from his vigil, a small bumble bee shape floated from the vent. She was limping, listing and lacking a good deal of her trim, but that little ship had lived. The Tug, showed me the hastily repaired battle damaged, wiggled her wings, and nearly nosedived into the deck. For the second time in 24 hours, I held her in my end has I gently eased her back to the vents
Going to sleep soon anon. If this thread dies I'll post any more of this (and all the previous) in the story thread.
I'm not letting this thread shut down.
The ship comes with a complimentary uncastrated tomcat. It hates people, scratches and hisses at anyone that comes close to it, smells terrible and has no problems with stealing food regularly. It also lives in the ship's piping, so good luck sleeping at night with that thing running around.
>ship's doctor
>in the medical bay, trying to look busy
>a tiny ship buzzes around your head
>small even by their standards, looks like it could just about land on your fingernail
>having gained your attention, it flies over to the microscope draw
>curious, you set up the microscope
>the ship lands on one of the slides
>an insect-like alien stands on top of the ship, waving up at the lens
>hesitantly at first, you raise your hand and wave back
>the alien is carrying a tablet in one of its claws
>it presses something, then points away from itself
>taking your eye away from the lens, you see the ship is projecting something onto the wall
>one half of the image is an anatomical diagram of the alien
>the other is an incomplete diagram of a human
>look back at the alien
>it points at you, then itself, then copies the pose from the diagram
>it must be a scientist
>you take a photo of the alien's diagram, then dig out a medical textbook
>open it on a page with a complete human
>the ship takes off and hovers over the page
>meanwhile you decide to print out the photo
>you're not sure how this will work but it should be interesting to compare notes
Not dying on me yet...
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One last bump in the hope for more writing,
I'll bump it, brother. Have no fear.
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This ship used to be a some kind of flying burger joint. It still have a grills, fryers and walk-in freezer with slowly rotting supplies to make burgers and fries for next several years or so.
Unfortunately, toilets are permanently ruined, even those in a captain's quarters.
It even had a drive-through window until "skull of regrets" incident.

>flying burger joint

See the Traveller thread and CTRL-F "roach coach." Complete with worked numbers on costs and profits.
Hello anons. Writefag here. I'm exhausted so going to sleep. I'll post more in the story thread tomorrow so for all one of you reading along, that's where you'll find me.
I have my ship and my dog in one?
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>woof woof
>What's that Lassie? Over voltage error on bus four-seven-delta?
Anyone got a link? I cant find anything....
Bumping so it doesn't die while I come up with moar content.
> Freezer
> Slowly rotting
Keep it cold enough, like 'dark side in a vacuum' cold, and it won't rot at all. The ship came with a few years of rations.
The downside is that they're all for a 'casual dining' burger joint that went under before you bought the ship from the liquidators.
And every time you dock in a major station, the stockpile of barbecue sauce barrels seems to spring tiny holes...

Only because it's a civilian craft. Military vessels had the personality and intelligence of german shepherds for destroyers and attack cruisers, and huskies for their dedicated cargo transports.
Rumour has it their fighters were given terrier and chihuahua personalities.

They tried cats, but the ship just went into sleep mode for 20 hours a day, before chasing random contacts.
Chewbacca syndrome. Only the captain and primary bridge crew understand the ship. Any other crew is completely puzzled by the seemingly identical noises that come from the speakers. Is it a fire, hull breach or is the dinner ready in mess hall 1?

Rumor has it that a clever engineer made a translation program, but that is impossible to find. On the other hand, a less clever but still clever engineer made a program that brings the nearly inaudible frequencies into regular hearing. You still don't know what the ship is saying, but at least you can learn.
The ship's artificial gravity doesn't actually stop at the hull, it just gets much weaker. (0.1 g)

>Park on an asteroid for mineral extraction
>Literally need to push it away from you or it will come with you when you leave

>Dock at a space station
>A worker on EVA for repairs gets sucked towards the ship whole focused on repairing a module he's holding
>Gets stuck on his back like a turtle
>Somehow manage to depart station with this guy
>He is quite understandably upset
>Did you just kidnap a dude or is he an unwilling stowaway?

>Dangerous cloud of space debris in orbit around a highly populated planet
>Kessler syndrome might actually happen if it hits a station
>While everyone else struggles for a solution you just match orbits with the cloud
>Hoover that debris up like it ain't no thing
The backup warp engines are actually part of a much smaller ship that was warped into the vessel so that it could be captured from within. Kind of like a Trojan Horse except the enemy didn't bring it inside.


The Chief engineer wants the ship to host a gathering of engineers because it is the only way he can attend.

>All the doors either slide open automatically or they're double-hinged so they can be pushed either way. Except for the door to the starboard observation deck, which has to be pulled open. People keep running into it as a result.

this amuses me.

i wonder what kind of money they could get selling the ships missiles or maybe trading the ship to some under-defended system for a more commercially useful vessel.

I wonder how hard it would be to work out a waste disposal agreement with these micro people since you don't know how to communicate in their language.

Cause having their municiple and or industrial waste and trash floating around in the ship is NOT something you need adding to filth problem of the closed environment of a space ship or station.
>Random flushing in the middle of the night

It seems like this would make keeping the game movingly at a brisk pace rather important so that they can manage to get to their main vessel without taking so many sessions that the game is most of the way through its life cycle since even if a story doesn't reach a conclusion IRL things will conspire to break the game up.

Do you have recommendations on how to keep a game moving without pushing ThingsSO fast that the struggles with the lesser ships lose meaning or everyone is turned off by relentless railroading?

It's dangerous to go alone, take this!
>I own an airplane built in 1947. There are a few really odd things about my Cessna 140 that you might be able to apply to a spacecraft

Thanks anon.

Ian enjoying this story. Thank you for making it.
> The ship's cats have started their own society in the vents and ducts
> One day they send an envoy to meet with the captain to introduce themselves formally
> They don't make it. Instead, they find the ship's burning cross-system, and fall asleep in the sun shining through a viewport.
> The next attempt is derailed by the navigator, who picks up the cute kitty and proceeds to pet it while plotting the next series of jumps.
> This takes hours, and no cat can refuse being petted.
> Eventually, the meeting is held.
> The language barrier becomes an issue
> 'We would like to open diplomatic relations right meow', for example.
> It's all too cute.
> And the age-old 'turn into a ball of claws and flee for the vent' solution isn't appropriate
I like this idea
>Alien race wants to be taken seriously by other races
>but they're too adowable
Drop a link if the thread is still up.
Thread is now up on the thisisnotatrueending sup/tg/ archive

If you want it preserved please up vote.



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