Star Tales

GM: "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away..."

Bob: "Hang on, I thought you said this was sci-fi!"

GM: "Look, it is, I just didn't want to have you lot whining about how something was 'unrealistic'. You know how Mike gets about that sort of thing."

Mike: "Hey!"

GM: "Anyway, I set it in a completely different time and place to stop any whining about realism, OK? Anyway, to continue, it is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire. During the battle, Rebel spies managed to steal secret plans to the Empire's ultimate weapon, the Death Star, an armored space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet."

Fred: "We are so stealing that!"

GM: "Guys! Just let me finish the damned intro! Pursued by the Empire's sinister agents, Princess Leia races home aboard her starship, custodian of the stolen plans that can save her people and restore freedom to the galaxy...".

Mike: "OK, so they've got interstellar travel but are still a monarchy. Fine, whatever, can we play now?"

GM: "In a minute. I'm just setting the scene. The awesome yellow planet of Tatooine emerges from a total eclipse, her two moons glowing against the darkness. A tiny silver spacecraft, a Rebel Blockade Runner firing lasers from the back of the ship, races through space. It is pursed by a giant Imperial Stardestroyer. Hundreds of deadly laserbolts streak from the Imperial Stardestroyer, causing the main solar fin of the Rebel craft to disintegrate."

Mike: "Solar fin?"

GM: "Mike, like I said at the beginning, it doesn't have to be accurate because it happened long ago and far away. If it makes you happier think of it as fantasy, not sci-fi".

Bob: "Actually, I'm not convinced that'll help. Remember when we went to see that movie last month?"

Fred: "The one with the heroine in that chainmail bikini?"

Bob: "That's the one. Mike spent hours afterwards going on about how the hero's sword should have broken when it hit the bad guys armour."

Mike "They said it wasn't a magic sword, so physics should apply to it! Anyway, just because something happened a long time ago far away doesn't mean the laws of physics have changed to accommodate ships with solar sails."

All: "Shut up, Mike."

GM: "As I was saying. An explosion rocks the ship as two robots, Artoo-Detoo and See-Threepio struggle to make their way through the shaking, bouncing passageway. Both robots are old and battered. Artoo is a short domed cylindrical robot. His face is a mass of computer lights surrounding a radar eye. Threepio, on the other hand, is a tall, slender robot of human proportions. He has a gleaming bronze-like metallic surface of an Art Deco design."

Fred: "George, seriously, I thought we talked this over and agreed you weren't going to inflict your attempts at writing novels or screen-plays on us. I'm only going to carry on proof-reading your work if you let us game without an hour and a half of introduction. Anyway, we might give you some ideas."

GM: "I don't think my sagas would benefit from all those moments when you heroically shoot the enemy in the back and steal their stuff, but alright, we'll skip ahead. Suffice to say the ship is captured and only one pod ejects and lands on the planet below. White-armoured Stormtroopers follow the pod down, but find it empty, with two sets of robotic tracks leading away into the desert. Right, Mike, you're up. Tell us a bit about yourself."

Mike: "My character's name is Luke Skywalker, and…"

Bob: "Wait a minute, you're character is seriously called Sky-Walker?"

Mike: "Yeah, I know. I wasn't feeling inspired, and since it's sci-fi or fantasy or whatever weird genre George has invented so he can ignore inconvenient bits of reality I didn't think the usual method of opening the phone book at random would really hold. I wanted something futuristic."

Fred: "Sounds more native American. Big chief Skywalker, the convoy comes, should we prepare our tomahawks?"

George: "Knock it off guys, I OKed the name with Mike and I think it grows on you. Anyway Bob, you can't really talk."

Mike: "Why, what did he go for?"

George: "You'll find out later, just get on with the description."

Mike: "Right, I'm about 20 or so, dressed in fairly homespun white-brown clothing. Medium tall with blond hair, and I'm, um, just what am I doing at the moment?"

George: "You've come out to meet the Jawas, a indigent race, to trade for anything they may have scavenged. Your Uncle is with you."

Mike: "Huh, Uncle? I told you that my father was a mighty space-warrior but that my entire family had been wiped out and left me an orphan."

Bob: "Ah, the traditional avenging-my-father ploy; no family members to worry about and a ready-made reason to join the adventure."

Fred: "Yeah, lucky it's not clichéd or anything."

George: "Mike, I agreed to that but you've been living on this farming planet for decades, you've had to have someone to bring you up. So I gave you an Uncle and Aunt you live with."

Mike: "What about my idea about having been raised by friendly animals?"

George: "Look, the entire planet is a desert that burns during the day and freezes at night. To add to that, the animal life that has evolved in these conditions is not what one would describe as hospitable. Just get on with the game."

Mike: "OK, I guess. Um, what have these Jawa dudes got in stock, then?"

George: "Er, there's loads of miscellaneous electronics, and your Uncle picks up a few space power converters for the hydrator units. What's more, they have a selection of Droids in various states of repair, and your Uncle is planning to pick up two, one to help about the house and to translate and one to work on the farm."

Fred: "I think I see where this is going. What have they got?"

George: "Well, most of them are in pretty poor condition. There is a tall humanoid one with a burnished gold finish…"

Bob: "And an art deco style?"

George: "Yeah, that too. There's a blue cylindrical one with a domed head and three little wheels that stands about a meter high, too. And various others that aren't in as good nick."

Mike: "Well, we want the gold one and one other. Is there a sturdy one except for the blue one?"

George: "I suppose, there's a red and white one a bit bigger that looks to be in roughly working order though it's dirty and looks frayed at the edges. But why don't you just take the blue one?"

Mike: "If we're looking for one to do farm work then I don't see why we'd want the blue one; if it's just a dome on wheels then what use is it going to be around the farm?"

George: "I dunno, it can interface with the computers or something."

Mike: "Then why do we need a droid? A better piece of computer software would probably be a lot cheaper and much more efficient. No, I think we'll take the gold and the red droids."

Bob: "Look, Mike…"

George: "No, it's OK. The red droid trundles forward a few metres and then there's a loud snapping noise. Smoke begins to pour from the top and it grinds to a halt."

Mike: "Well, can I fix it?."

To Be Continued

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