"Jetz, sensors detect a cloud of unknown composition dead ahead. Expect intercept in approximately 22 minutes." Charts Muciletti, ship's navigator, looked expectantly at Ensign Zura "Jetz" Williamson. Jetz looked up, an almost harried expression on his face, since his ship, the destroyer Waterloo, had been hampered by hardship almost since the moment it had left Starbase 37 for the Anorphisian planetary system. So far, the journey had been one space hazard after another, until the commander of the Waterloo began to think of outer space as being some grandiose continuum of evil forces striving, in concert, to keep him from performing his mission within the allotted time.

"Okay, Charts." The voice was grim, with an edge of exasperation. "Bear 60 degrees port." He leaned toward the intercom and whispered, "Full screens, Par-Sek. Another cloud."

"Aye-aye, sir," came the monotonic Tauran reply.

After ten minutes of anxious expectation, Charts looked up, alarm marking every facet of his expression. "The cloud has animated, sir. It's pursuing at warp seven."

Jetz took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and spoke once again. "Full combat alert, gentlemen. Here we go again."

As in all role playing games, Starships & Spacemen relies on the collective imagination of the Star Master and the players to gather realism and enjoyment. The intent of this particular game is to recreate the flavor of Star Trek for those enthusiasts who can't seem to get enough from television and books. Within these parameters, S&S is a definite success. Leonard H. Kanterman has developed a game system that is fairly smooth and easily adaptable to Trekkian doctrine.

Borrowing heavily from the game systems of D&D, et al., S&S supplies a relatively simple set of rules in 80 pages. Players begin on a star map, piloting their craft through space to one of several destinations according to the specific mission at hand, then descend from space into solar systems which the Star Master has programmed with individual planets. (Hereafter, the Star Master will be referred to as SM - after the first ten minutes of the encounter I ran, this came to stand for sado-masochist). As such, the game is rather similar to Traveler, yet its qualified difference is that it appeals to a quite specific audience. As a matter of fact , the best S&S expeditions are probably run by combining this game with a rich blend of Traveler for space encounters, and Metamorphosis Alpha for planetary encounters. These other games cover in more acceptable detail the things S&S suggests - this is not a slam, for S&S concentrates on other details which greatly enhance the Trek-like flow of play.

One strong point of S&S is the array of characters used in play: characters are divided into four distinct races: Terran, Rigel, Tauran, and Andromedan. Each of these has certain racial characteristics that give roleplay the same unique feel that occurs when lawful and chaotic characters combine on an expedition of D&D; one is never quite sure exactly what is going to happen. Terrans are native Earthmen, complete with all their idiosyncrasies -we all try hard, but we are all at least a little less than perfect (with the possible exception of Don Lowry). Rigel are distantly Earth-related galactic mercenaries who make up the strength of the fleet in terms of fighting ability. Taurans can be likened to Spock of Star Trek fame. They are highly logical creatures who can voluntarily put themselves into suspended animation, or use the notorious "nerve pinch" on demand. Furthermore, they undergo a delightful "rutting period" every two years, when the Tauran will attempt to find a mate at all costs. It is always nice to throw a rutting Tauran into an expedition: he only has a month to find a mate, and as the D-Day approaches, he becomes progressively more frenzied and difficult to control. Finally, the Andromedans are rather interesting trisexual creatures (male, female, and intersex) that must be kept separated so they will not mate. Andromedans are rich in psionic power, but can become a general pain when, as they molt every 120 days, they leave tufts of blue fur all over the starship, causing the cleanup crew untold busywork, and plugging up the ship's ventilation system.

Each of these characters, in turn, must accept some ship duty. Each race shows inclinations towards certain duties, classed as follows: Military, including the subclasses of command, security, and fire control; Scientific, including alien life and medical; and Technical, including communications, navigation, and engineering. Players acquire experience in different manners according to their specific subclass. The rules are quite explicit in this, so players are never really in competition with one another as they are in some games. The earned experience points allow an officer to progress in rank from Ensign to Admiral-in-Chief, a twelve step process. The higher the rank, the more specialized equipment a player may carry, and the better a starship command.

Basically, each character is randomly generated in the usual manner, using three 6-sided dice (in most cases) to determine four inborn abilities which cannot change: charisma, psionic potential, strength/hits, and loyalty; and certain acquired skills which are subject to change: marksmanship, intelligence, technical skill, and contact skill, this last being used when dealing with aliens. Further, certain modifications are made in each of these according to the race a character has chosen. The most interesting of these traits is psionic potential. Each player can spend his rolled points, as many as he has available, to acquire psionic abilities. These include empathy, ESP, telepathy, tele-empathy, telekinesis, tele-illusion, tele-friend - no, scratch that - hypnosis, molecular control, and tele-energesis. Since these abilities can easily sway a confrontation, they are invaluable to the course of the game, though they can hamper the flow of play if used in excess. For example, my adventurers almost all had telekinesis. When they encountered a war party made up of rather small warriors, members of the Waterloo used their psionic power to bounce the aliens like basketballs until they submitted ... experience was awarded for creative play, begrudgingly.

The spacemen themselves are nothing without their space vehicles and the vast array of weaponry and equipment that puts gadgetry back into Speculative Fiction.

The Galactic Confederacy Space Fleet Service (GCSFS for those who like to use the easily pronounceable acronym) employs four combat vessel types equipped with the usual laser banks, ion torpedoes, teleporter, shuttlecraft, and screens in varying units dependent upon the size of the ship and the amount of power available at a given moment. The destroyer is the weakest of the fleet, having only 50 Power factors available par day for a crew of 10 men. The cruiser is next with 20 sailors and 100 power, followed by the battle cruiser (50 and 200), and dominated by the dreadnought (100 and 500). Freighters and carriers are also briefly covered in the rules, but are played down presumably because they transcend the scope of Star Trek and move toward Star Wars. Since a ship has only so much power it can spend in a day, the destroyer is seriously inhibited in what it can accomplish. Our Waterloo held out fairly well until it met something, which was quite frequent, and then it seemed to take it in the shorts - pardon me, screens - with the kind of lightning rapidity that makes discretion the better part of valor. Unfortunately, the crew members did not know that old adage. Although the other ships have more power, I fear that using the battle cruiser and dreadnought would give too much to play with. The qualifier is that some functions cost more for the larger ships.

The most important varying-cost function is the use of screens. Ships have the option of working on no, half, or full screens for the course of the day. The lowly Waterloo paid 15 energy units for half-screens and 30 for full (which it in fact NEVER did, since that soaked up more than half the energy available for the entire day). The other ships use those factors as basal expenditures in multiples of two, so that the cruiser uses 30 for half-screens, the battle cruiser 60, and the dreadnought 120. Defensive screens are crucial in the space travel segment of play. A brief comparison shows just how much difference there is between the ships themselves, operating under full screen. The destroyer pays 30 units, leaving only 20 for movement, maneuver, life support, weaponry, and teleportation. The dreadnought on the other hand , expends 240 units for full screens, which leaves a fat 260 units to play around with for the rest of the day. I cannot foresee any ship using that much under normal circumstances.

Other energy cost expenditures do not actually vary according to what kind of ship is employed. Instead, ships have different capacities and can therefore channel more energy where it is needed. For example, teleporters cost 5 units per person per teleportation. The Waterloo had only a capacity of three, so it could spend a maximum of 15 units at any given time. A dreadnought, though, could teleport 10 individuals, with an expenditure of 50 units.

Generally, the whole idea of energy spending gives the game the tactical flavor of Lou Zocchi's Alien Space. Commanding the starship is a relatively simple mathematical problem that has been effectively plotted by my son, a second grader. S&S goes beyond the other game in that it allows players to "deficit spend" energy points if they find themselves in a hazardous position. Unfortunately, such spending can be catastrophic in the later stages of the game, since it limits the energy available per turn for the remainder of the game. For example, a cruiser, due to combat, has already expended all 100 units of its day's allotment. The enemy ship closes in for the kill, knowing its victim must just sit there and take it. The cruiser commander elects to deficit-spend and fires his laser banks five more times before the enemy ship is destroyed. The energy drain causes a 25 factor loss, which gives the cruiser 75 units per day from then on, or until they can return to a starbase. Our poor Waterloo was forced into a situation like this two days from SB37 and was almost blown away.. It limped home at warp one for six days to be refurbished, and almost failed the entire mission due to the delays. There is a good side to the power shortage - it serves to continue the Trekkian feel to play. After all, how often have we heard the illustrious Kirk make the following demand?: "Scotty, I must have more power!"

This review has already hinted at some of the weaponry and equipment available to the star travelers. In addition to that mentioned, tractor/pressor beams may be employed by each starship. But the real crux of gadgetry ties on the individual level. The weapons and equipment each player may carry is limited by his experience and rank, his race, and his chosen branch of service. Actual weaponry is rather traditional SF stuff: hand laser, electrostun gun, spring rifle, laser rifle, nerve disrupter. Each has certain advantages and disadvantages; for example, the spring rifle is a rather archaic weapon that fires three needles per turn to a range of 1000 meters, while the hand laser fires an energy beam for 100 meters; it may also be used to illuminate, direct heat, or as a grenade or bomb when set on overload. The nerve disrupter is a fun toy, characteristic of Andre Norton's "nerve needler" except that it is totally unselective. Players within 100 meters who fail to roll their constitutions go into immediate, nerve-wracking convulsions which last until the disrupter is turned off, and then recovery is not complete until the following day. Taurans automatically go into suspended animation. Great gag gift at a New Year's party; ask for one for Christmas.

The equipment available is also traditional in nature. Self-explanatory items are the radiation suit with oxygen tank, the jetpack, communicator, medikit, planetary radar tracking unit, energy screen, force field projector, sonar generator, metabolism stabilizer to put people into suspended animation, electronic interference devices, robotic and telepathic dogs, field armor , and a matter/anit-matter generator. I could say something about each of these, but the use is suggested by the name in most cases, and those of us with semi-active imaginations can easily determine possible uses. Other items do require some time, though, for elaboration, or for suggestions in running the game.

The first of these is the universal translator, which is used to communicate with aliens without the alien being aware that a foreigner is present. Used in conjunction with proper disguise, this becomes an asset in traveling undetected on alien ships or planets, but good luck to the poor soul who misses his roll to make the device work properly! The second is the auto-analyzer, which works in concert with the ship computer (more on this later) to analyze planetary phenomena. The analyzer can also be used as a burglar alarm of sorts, with a range of 100 meters, proving invaluable at eliminating surprise attacks for those on night watch in an alien environment. And the third is simply called the ABC, since it has three attack modes. The "A" mode is an atomic flame which fires 100 meters with three dice damage, pretty powerful, unless the user forgets to don his radiation suit. The "B" mode fires a pre-loaded epidemic spray. What zeal one can have when he nails the enemy with bubonic plague, scurvy, or venereal disease! The "C" mode is the ace-in-the-hole. Filled with poison gas, this one is as nasty as they come. In fact, the ABC is THE bag of dirty tricks for the entire game. Should I ever have the pleasure of being anything but an SM in this game, I definitely want to take the ABC with me, and if l roll a low loyalty score, heaven help my shipmates!

Kanterman augments his predictable starships, spacemen, and equipment, with the unpredictable extras that make S&S appear to have the frills necessary for a successful role playing game: space hazards, diseases, varied flora and fauna, alien artifacts, medals, shore leave, and miscellaneous creatures.

Space hazards consist of clouds, radiation storms, space mirrors, space warps, time warps, some weird thing called a space amoeba, space buoys, and the gravity well. The clouds come in four types: gas, dust, crystal, and foamy. Gas clouds scramble navigational apparatus and randomly reposition the ship. In essence (pardon the diction), the gas cloud is like a cosmic flatulent force that affects ship balance in the same manner its human counterpart would affect those on a crowded elevator. Dust clouds damage the ship's superstructure depending on the ship's speed and screen state at the time of entrance. Crystal clouds increase psionic potential, take charisma to 18, and reduce loyalty scores to zero, thus making the situation ripe for mutiny. Effects of this one can only be terminated by death or brainwashing (I recommend SMs read Orwell's 1984 to determine the best brainwashing techniques). Finally, foamy clouds pursue ships, affect all logical beings with anti-logic, cause the computer to lie incessantly, but are generally good to have if the ship sprouts cosmic hair and needs a shave.

Radiation storms can cause sickness or death according to how effective the ship's screens am and how lucky a character is with the dice. When death results, I suggest the player be given the option of rolling for mutation, according to the rules of Metamorphosis Alpha. Death is just too darned terminal - I like to keep people around for a while.

Space mirrors create a nifty superball effect when, without warning, a ship suddenly bounces off an unseen barrier and caroms off in another direction. A sadistic SM can have great fun with this if he programs a gauntlet of mirrors and clouds that will send his adventurers through the galaxy as if they were inside a cosmic pinball machine.

Starships & Spacemen, Part 2